"I know you don't believe me. Fine, I'll give you an address—an abandoned private airport in Petras City, Coahuila State. Bring more men."
"Hurry! I don't have much time."
Joseph Foucher thought this was absurd, but the other guy sounded so certain. "Got it. How do I contact you afterward?"
"Dial this number, let it ring three times, then hang up. I'll call you back."
After saying this, Steve hung up the phone, slumped onto the chair inside the tent, trembling as he tried to light a cigarette multiple times but failed.
Damn!
Joseph Foucher frowned deeply, pondering. "Get me in touch with General Rommel."
He decided to seek help from the military.
00:22 a.m.
A battalion from the Marine Fourth Army surrounded the airport under the cover of darkness.
The location was hidden within a small canyon...
Surrounded by mountains—not tall, but quite steep.
