6 PM.
Just dinner time.
Santos sat punctually at the dining table holding his bowl, quietly waiting for "Guadalupe Island Current Events News" to air.
This was a recently launched program.
Mainly to convey Guadalupe Island current affairs and Mr. Victor's "important instructions."
"Island Lord" Victor.
"Now broadcasting news from the police station."
The bespectacled male host read from his script.
"Guadalupe Island will conduct a major sweep of drug remnants. No personnel may participate in manufacturing, hiding, or selling drugs. Violators will face the death penalty! Drug users can be sent to rehabilitation centers for mandatory detox."
"Island residents may not illegally possess firearms and ammunition. Must surrender within three days or forcible measures will be taken."
"December 27th will be designated as Guadalupe Island's 'Freedom Day,' celebrating successful drug elimination."
"Police station spokesman Officer Casare stated: Guadalupe Island will open 2 large processing plants capable of employing 2,000 people. To improve residents' employment chances and work income, 'handicraft piecework' will be implemented island-wide, with hourly wages no less than 1 peso. Those interested can register at the police station."
Santos heard cheers from upstairs, downstairs, and neighboring houses.
Nothing else mattered to them - this was real "livelihood engineering." And with hourly wages no less than 1 peso, even working 18 hours a day would be high income in Mexico.
Nearly $200+ monthly.
Valentina patted his shoulder, indicating he should eat. Santos nodded, and just as he was about to bite his corn tortilla, he heard more from the TV.
"Police chief Mr. Victor announced that a 3-year police academy will be established on Guadalupe Island, focusing on training special talents suited to Mexican conditions. Recruiting ages 14-19, the school will charge no fees and provide monthly living allowances. Outstanding performers will intern at the police station."
Santos suddenly looked up, food still hanging from his mouth, listening to the broadcast with shining eyes.
"Mama, I want to join this!"
Valentina frowned at the TV. What Mexican parent wanted their child to become police?
Being a bandit in Mexico had better prospects.
Perhaps sensing Valentina's hesitation, Santos jumped down from his chair and hugged her, "I want to be as brave as father."
Valentina touched his head, "But it will be very hard."
"What's wrong with hardship? I'm a man. I should fear standing still, not moving forward courageously."
Santos was actually 14, but his body seemed to develop slowly, looking at least a head shorter than peers. Yet his words were so resounding.
"Mama, Mr. Victor said!"
"¡El éxito no tiene que estar en mí! ¡El éxito debe estar en mí!! (Success need not be mine! Success must include me!)"
Santos's eyes shot out a kind of light.
"Mexico's history is destined to include my name."
Valentina was also shocked by Santos's words. That a child could have such thoughts - what parents most hoped for was their children growing up. She covered her mouth, remembering years of raising the child alone, and couldn't help hugging Santos and crying.
"Mama, don't worry. I'll protect you, I'll protect Mr. Victor, and I'll protect all of Mexico!"
Suddenly he felt the glass trembling, hearing engine vibrations. Santos found this sound familiar.
"Helicopter! It's a helicopter!" He ran excitedly to the window, sticking his head out to look around. Sure enough, he saw a helicopter flying low.
He waved excitedly.
But something seemed wrong - why didn't he recognize this aircraft?
Buzz buzz buzz~
Engine sounds came from the beach.
A red transport truck drove over, its cargo covered by rain tarps, but from protruding parts it looked like gun barrels.
All unauthorized personnel were cleared from the dock.
The transport truck parked steadily, followed by a crane. Several officers jumped onto the truck and pulled off the tarps, revealing the big guy inside.
Introducing the new member: AK-630M 30mm 6-barrel naval gun!
Caliber: 30mm, Total weight: 1,918kg, Overall length: 1,629mm, Maximum range: 8,100m, Muzzle velocity: 900m/s.
Originally planned to get coastal artillery, but the dock could only accommodate vessels under 1,000 tons - no need to fear large ship landings. The main concern should be small yachts or hovercraft. Naval guns were perfect for this.
Who said naval guns had to be on ships? I'll put it on land!
Officers on the ground heard rotor sounds and looked up puzzledly, also seeing this helicopter. The sharp-minded police sergeant thought, "Wrong! This isn't our aircraft!"
"Quick! Call headquarters!"
The accompanying officer quickly grabbed his attached communication system, shouting into it, "Unknown helicopter has invaded Guadalupe Island! Repeat, unknown helicopter has invaded Guadalupe Island!"
"Received." A calm voice came from the other end.
Inside the police station, piercing air raid sirens immediately sounded.
Quick-reacting EDM officers rapidly put on equipment while other group members took positions as planned.
Fire support group members ran to the garage, driving out a modified troop transport.
Welded on top was a Swiss-made Oerlikon GDF-005 anti-aircraft gun!
Absolutely perfect for low-flying aircraft.
Victor, under protection from Casare and a few officers, climbed to the police station's high platform, using binoculars to observe the helicopter.
A Bell 212 helicopter!
He discovered the aircraft boldly had "Kaibil" written on its fuselage!!
"Guatemalan Special Forces?!" Victor frowned.
This unit was too familiar. On December 5, 1974, Guatemala's military government created the Commando School (Escuela de Comandos).
Three months later, on March 5, 1975, it was renamed the Kaibil Training and Special Operations Center.
Though this unit belonged to Guatemala's military, it was notorious for being unruly. Most importantly, they killed civilians - most famously the 1982 December massacre of ordinary people in Las Dos Erres.
There were even rapes and murders.
This was also heard about in Mexico at the time.
But damn, Guatemala was over 900 kilometers away - you're telling me your helicopter flew here?
You don't use fuel but chicken feathers?
"Boss, they're coming!" Casare exclaimed beside him.
"Shoot them down!"
Victor decisively gave the order.
Whether Guatemala or some other neighbor, coming in without notice?
Victor wouldn't indulge you!
...
Álvaro Colom gripped the handle tightly, looking down below, seeing many people waving at their helicopter. A crazy expression appeared on his gaunt face!
"Kill them!" He pointed below, telling the gunner.
As commander of Guatemala's special forces "Kaibil," he was famous in military circles for brutality, cold-bloodedness, and ruthlessness, having committed numerous crimes domestically.
He'd originally brought his team to participate in joint exercises with Mexican forces in Baja California, but hearing Gulf Group offered a $5 million bounty just for a police chief's head?
This excited the naturally bold man extremely. During exercise intervals, he brought squad members directly to Guadalupe Island!
This was fucking...
Unheard of happening elsewhere.
But in the fantastical Latin American region, while not exactly everyday occurrence, it had happened before.
In 1968, a Honduran farmer's sheep wandered into El Salvador territory, causing conflict with locals who fought back.
Then Honduran patrol soldiers charged into the other's territory and killed 7 people, including a local chief. The war that broke out the following year was reportedly related to this.
Hearing Álvaro's order, the gunner opened the GAU-16 12.7×99mm (.50 BMG) heavy machine gun, strafing the crowd below.
This sudden scene left at least ten people below unable to escape, directly shot and falling. Survivors screamed while wounded cried out.
Álvaro laughed loudly - he loved this mental stimulation. He'd done this domestically too, tying captured government resisters to stones then throwing them into the sea, enjoying their screams.
But suddenly, he saw the pilot's body shake as if startled, pulling the control stick trying to fly up as if avoiding something?
The next second...
Alarms sounded inside the aircraft, very piercing.
This made Álvaro's heart tremble.
"What's happening!" He quickly gripped the handle and shouted.
"Tu madre! (Damn!), we're hit." The pilot roared, the helicopter spinning and falling directly from mid-air. The nose scraped the ground creating sparks, dragging a long black trail!
It crashed into a wall before stopping.
The fuselage smoked heavily.
EDM squads prepared inside the police station drove vehicles charging toward the target.
Álvaro didn't die. He and several team members struggled out of the helicopter. Just as they crawled out, guns were pointed at their heads.
He very straightforwardly raised his hands, even wearing a nonchalant smile, "I surrender!"
"I'm Lieutenant Álvaro Colom of Guatemala Special Forces. I demand you treat prisoners well!"
Victor, arriving in the second wave, jumped from his vehicle. Hearing this, he also smiled.
"What fell from the sky were criminals, not prisoners!"
Victor stood before him, looking down from above with narrowed eyes, beckoning Kennedy. When the other approached, he pulled out Kennedy's knife, grabbed Álvaro's teammate, and stabbed it into the side of his neck!
The other struggled desperately, looking pleadingly at his captain, hoping for rescue.
"Don't worry. After I've had enough fun with him, I'll send him to see you!" Victor whispered slowly in his ear.
(End of Chapter)
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