"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.
Joseph Foucher frowned deeply, pondering. "Get me in touch with General Rommel."
He decided to seek help from the military.
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.
"Commander, what's in there?" the deputy commander asked Felix, Casare's younger brother, who was now serving as the battalion commander, a lieutenant colonel under 20 years old...
General Rommel understood Felix's connections and arranged for him to gain some accomplishments, allowing his battalion to handle the operation.
Such things were common in Mexico.
Humans are inherently social creatures.
"How would I know? Surround the place. If there's resistance, open fire!" Felix said in a low voice.
The deputy commander nodded, waved, and the soldiers began descending from the slopes.
One of the soldiers at the front didn't notice a red dot beneath his feet and stepped on it. Suddenly, the urgent screeching of alarms echoed throughout the airport?!
"Charge! Get inside!" Felix's face turned grim. There was definitely something amiss. Why would an abandoned airport have infrared alarms?
Upon receiving the order, the entire battalion launched an all-out assault, while shadows darted within the airport, followed by an explosion of gunfire.
After all, this was a battalion—nearly 600 men!
And they were firing downward from surrounding mountain slopes. Ever heard of "shooting down kills the dogs"?
The fight ended quickly, lasting just over ten minutes.
They captured two prisoners...
Walking into the airport, Felix was met with an overpowering stench filling the air…
He wrinkled his nose, sniffing like a dog, eyeing the towering hangar before him. It stood over ten meters tall, corroded with rust, and yet an unsettling feeling weighed on his mind.
The faces of the two prisoners instantly changed as they struggled, but a swift rifle butt silenced them.
Seven or eight soldiers went up and twisted the rusty handle.
The door let out a creak, followed by a gust of putrid air rushing out, almost overwhelming everyone.
The soldiers around Felix couldn't help but vomit—the stench was simply unbearable.
He stayed still, but when his eyes fell upon the sight before him, his pupils constricted violently...
Have you ever seen a mound of corpses?
Corpses piled into a small mountain. All of them were naked. They had been leaning against the door, and the moment it was opened, they slid down like a landslide. One of the bodies—a roughly 1-meter-tall corpse—landed smoothly at Felix's feet.
Even he couldn't hold back and vomited.
It was like a fountain, ejecting everything from last night's dinner.
He abruptly looked at the other three hangars, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Report it! No—I'll call my brother instead."
The phone suddenly rang. A hand groped through the darkness for the light switch. Casare emerged from under the blanket, yawning. His girlfriend lay asleep beside him.
Casare smiled upon hearing his younger brother's voice. "Oh, Felix, huh? Why are you calling at this hour?"
"Brother, something's happened."
Felix recounted the events in vivid detail.
Casare's body stiffened abruptly.
"How... how many corpses?"
"Send people here immediately, this could turn into a massive ordeal."
Casare slammed the phone down, didn't even bother to put on underwear, threw on clothes, and bolted out the door.
His girlfriend Hayler groggily lifted her head, "What's going on?"
But Fat Casare didn't have time to respond—he was already sprinting out the door.
Mexico was about to make headlines again.