Juárez City, Somewhere
On the rooftop of a commercial office building, Ghost, Bryan, and Owen secured their harnesses and checked their watches, waiting for Sam's signal.
After a night of brutal interrogation, Guzmán had spilled everything he knew. Under the CIA's relentless torture methods, few could resist for long.
The target was a floor owned entirely by Mario on the 20th level of this commercial building. Like Guzmán, Mario had taken extreme precautions ever since his capture by the Americans. His security detail had doubled, and he rarely went out unless absolutely necessary. This made capturing him significantly more difficult.
Killing him wouldn't have been hard. The challenge was that Owen's team had to take Mario alive. The real boss of the Sánchez Group—Mario's father, Laeta Sánchez—had completely disappeared. No one knew where he was hiding.
For a cartel kingpin, such vigilance was necessary. Without it, rivals would've taken him out long ago, not to mention Owen.
Ela had said the DEA's undercover operatives had been trying to locate Laeta for a long time, but all efforts had failed—and at great cost.
The only option left was to get to him through those closest: his son Mario and his brother Dorok.
Compared to Dorok, who had numerous well-trained men and military capability, Mario was the more accessible target.
Across from the building, Sam—codenamed "Face"—stood in a room, watching through binoculars. His line of sight was aimed directly at Mario's 20th floor. But the building's reflective, tempered glass made it hard to see inside.
Suddenly, a figure flickered behind the glass. The glimpse was brief, but Sam was certain—that was Mario Sánchez.
"Target confirmed. Operation starts in 10 seconds. Beginning countdown... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."
Sam's calm voice came through the earpieces. At the final second, the three operatives leapt from the rooftop, feet running down the building's glass facade.
From above, the tension devices on their harnesses kept their descent controlled.
As they ran downward, floor by floor flashing past, Sam gave the next update in their ears:
"Three seconds to target level. Prepare to breach... 3... 2... 1..."
As he spoke, the three operatives simultaneously launched off the wall, swung toward the glass using the harnesses, twisted midair, and opened fire. Their bullets shattered the window in a spiderweb pattern.
With a crash of breaking glass, the three burst into the room.
Inside, Mario was lounging on the couch watching TV. War had broken out in the city, and as a high-ranking member of the Sánchez Group, he had to remain in hiding. Still, he figured the fighting would end soon—if they kept going, they'd just be paving the way for their competitors. Negotiations would likely begin in a day or two.
His personal security team consisted entirely of Dorok's elite fighters. Many of them were ex-military or ex-police from various countries, including former special forces from minor nations.
Earlier that morning, he'd heard about Guzmán's death. Like everyone else, he assumed Lofta's group was behind it—though he found it odd that their mercs had become so skilled all of a sudden.
The busty women on TV were gyrating seductively. Mario switched the channel out of boredom—just as the light outside his window darkened. Then the glass shattered and three heavily armed figures descended from above.
The moment he landed, Owen triggered bullet time. His HK416 darted from target to target, each flash of the muzzle followed by a corpse hitting the floor. Ghost mirrored him—both men had been chosen for this mission due to their unmatched rapid-fire skills.
While Owen and Ghost swept the room in deadly arcs, Bryan tossed flashbangs across the space. He was using M84 stun grenades—each with twelve ports to unleash blinding flashes (up to one million candelas) and deafening 180-decibel blasts.
Gunfire, flashbang detonations, and screams exploded in the room.
The trio operated in perfect coordination. Bryan's flashbangs disabled the enemies' vision and hearing—even closed eyes wouldn't help. The intense noise also ruined balance and orientation. Owen and Ghost then eliminated all threats that could interfere with the capture.
Chaos reigned. Dazed enemies stumbled blindly, staggering before being dropped like rag dolls by precise shots.
It was over in seconds. Every movement had been rehearsed; even with bullet time, Owen wasn't taking chances—he wore heavy ceramic-plated armor and a welding helmet-style visor.
Good thing, too—a burst of four bullets struck his chest. The impact caused him to stumble but didn't penetrate. The shooter didn't survive to fire again.
After clearing the room, Bryan located Mario—still disoriented, deaf and blind from the flashbangs. Bryan dragged him to his feet, strapped a harness onto him, and shoved him out the broken window.
Mario screamed like a stuck pig as he plummeted, panicked and flailing. With the target secured, Owen and Ghost moved to extract. Though they'd cleared the room, reinforcements were arriving from outside.
Both leapt from the window and sprinted down the building's glass exterior. Bryan lobbed several smoke grenades to obscure their retreat. The room filled with choking fog, and the arriving guards hesitated. They didn't dare charge into the unknown.
Across the way, Sam and Mohawk opened fire. Bullets shattered glass and dropped two enemies who tried to pursue through the fog. A rain of lead hammered the windows—too much of a threat for anyone inside to risk it.
On the ground, Howler and Swagg had already received the plummeting Mario. Swagg and Bayev covered the upper levels with rifles, while Howler cuffed Mario and threw him into the vehicle. Moments later, Owen and the others landed one by one.
Meanwhile, Sam and Mohawk unleashed a final hail of bullets before clipping into their harnesses and sprinting down the opposite wall.
A figure appeared in a window across the way, but Swagg's rapid shots forced them back.
Sam and Mohawk hit the ground. Everyone piled into the getaway vehicle—and peeled out fast.
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