Those who have been to war would know.
What kind of terrain is the hardest to deal with.
Desert, rainforest, or plateau?
None of the above!
It's isolated islands!
In the Arlington National Cemetery of Washington D.C., there stands a statue depicting six U.S. soldiers raising the American flag into the ground.
This statue is based on a famous photograph titled "Flag Raising on Iwo Jima," which later became a symbol of the American spirit. And what this photo captured was the Battle of Sulphur Island.
A mere 20-square-kilometer solitary island turned into a bloody meat grinder on the Pacific battlefront.
Back then, the U.S. military had to rely on aircraft and artillery, and then pay a heavy price to successfully land on the island.
What about drug traffickers?
What could they rely on?
Kayaks?
Of course, while looking down on drug traffickers in his heart, Victor still had to prepare.
A number of residents discovered that many covered things had appeared on the docks. Some wanted to sneak a peek but were stopped and scolded by the guarding officers.
This led some sensitive residents to feel a trace of nervousness in the air.
Santos had just returned from school that day, with Stephanie following behind, both holding snacks, when they suddenly saw a convoy driving past, surrounded by crowds.
"Six, seven, eight..." a boy full of freckles was counting, when suddenly someone patted his shoulder, "Campos."
The rhythm of the boy's counting was disrupted, and he counted wrong. Annoyed, he turned around, but when he saw Santos and his companion, his expression relaxed. He was obviously on good terms with the latter and hooked his arm around Santos's neck. "Hey, you're out with your girl, huh?"
"Don't talk nonsense, she's my sister!"
Campos pursed his lips, pointing at the convoy, "A bunch of trucks just passed by, one after another, with 'Police Station' written on them. I bet they're carrying weapons; if only we could take a look underneath."
As if his mouth was blessed, the island was already windy, and just after he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew over, lifting the tarp on the back of a truck – the ropes clearly hadn't been tied down properly.
They could see a row of racks on the truck.
But, influenced by war films, Santos immediately knew what it was.
"BM-13 rocket launchers!!" He exclaimed in surprise, but quickly covered his mouth and pulled Campos and Stephanie away.
"What's the matter? What happened?" Campos asked curiously.
"Nothing, nothing, just don't go out if you don't have to in the next few days." And with that, Santos ran straight home.
Seeing Stephanie lagging behind, he squatted down, "Come on, get on, I'll carry you."
She nodded and climbed onto his back.
Though Santos was thin, he had good stamina, and he ran all the way home with Stephanie on his back, just in time to see Valentina cooking.
Stephanie's father Dexter feared plain rice and was working at the construction site.
"What happened? You look so tired," Valentina asked curiously.
"We're going to have a war!" Santos swallowed hard.
This puzzled Valentina. Where would there be a war? Guadalupe Island?
Thus, he planted landmines on the more accessible parts of the sand beach!
About 60 M14 mines were buried across just 300 square meters of sandy beach.
Fucking hell...
With that density, Victor was simply inhumane.
After all, those things were cheap, 110 points apiece, easy to make.
And 500 meters behind the beach, a trench had been dug, manned with 4 NSV machine guns, and another 30 meters away were 4 Type 64 120mm mortars.
Thirty men in that place should be enough to hold it, right?
Just the M14 mines would take out a bunch, with their blast radius, even athletes would be blown to pieces.
Even if the athletes survived the mines, what about the machine guns, the mortars?
If they got past that, then Victor deserved to lose.
Casare watched the EDM officers laying mines, his scalp tingling, and he couldn't help scratching his head, "Boss, this... this is a bit brutal."
Victor, with a cigarette in his mouth, replied, "If we're not brutal, why the hell would I fight drug traffickers?"
"You have to be brutal with drug traffickers!"
"If we get through this, Baja California will basically belong to us. The Tijuana Cartel will have no power to stand against us."
That was indeed true; according to the informants' reports, Tijuana Benjamin was personally leading a vendetta.
We must kill him!
When the whole family's together, it should be a time of reunion.
"Keep an eye on the island's security too, if anyone tries to loot amidst the chaos, shoot them all!" Victor's tone was filled with murderous intent.
Casare was also nervous; ever since he'd heard the news, he hadn't slept well. With his plump body, he heard that drug traffickers loved to steam overweight people until their fat rendered.
Just thinking about it made him shudder.
"Are you scared?" Victor suddenly asked.
Casare looked at him, hesitated, then nodded with a bitter smile, "Nervous, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. Aren't you afraid?"
"Afraid?"
Victor laughed and pointed to the landmines ahead, "If those drug traffickers could scare me, I would have left Mexico long ago. Who do you think is more brutal, them or me?"
The question caught Casare off guard.
Because, the way Victor treated drug traffickers was simply...
"Boss, you call that upholding justice! They're committing crimes, how can that be the same?"
The flattery had to flow.
Victor glanced at him, "If you're more brutal than anyone else, naturally your fear of them vanishes instantly."
"I'll kill them all!"
"And then, I'll hang all the drug traffickers in my hall of honor!"
"All of them!"
...