This abandoned stone quarry isn't very large, and there isn't much cover. Both sides are heavily armed, and with the close proximity, the firefight resulted in numerous casualties within a few minutes.
Unlike military or police forces, the gang members weren't prepared for such heavy casualties, and they were on the verge of collapse.
Ronan shouted loudly, "There's no way back. If we don't break through, we'll all die here!"
From the other end of the tunnel, three Mexican men were flanking them.
Book was hit in the left arm by a stray bullet, and in this life-or-death situation, he shouted, "If you want to survive, fight your way out! Once they attack, they won't leave anyone alive!"
Even though the gang members lacked formal training, they understood this simple logic. Encouraged, they mustered their courage and engaged in a shootout with the Mexican traffickers.
Ronan turned his gun towards the tunnel entrance, fired three rounds in rapid succession, and the dark-skinned Mexican men screamed and fell to the ground.
The one holding an AK-47 was about to turn and retaliate, but Ronan's three bullets hit him in the chest and abdomen, killing him instantly.
The person with the old-style shotgun turned and retreated back into the shack.
Together with the two other traffickers guarding the tunnel, they utilized the advantageous position to defend with heavy firepower, leaving the Carter gang momentarily trapped without a clear escape route.
During a brief lull in the gunfire, Ronan took the opportunity to change position to the blind spot in the rear and continued shooting, taking down two more Mexican men.
The head figure stationed here by the Jose cartel realized the danger posed by Ronan, the deadly marksman. He shouted commands to his men, and at least six AK-47s turned their barrels towards Ronan. The intense barrage of bullets made it impossible for him to expose himself.
At such a close range, facing the power of assault rifles, even if he survived a direct hit, he would be severely wounded.
No one dared to underestimate the might of modern firearms!
With heavy casualties on both sides and the gunfire thinning out, Ronan took the opportunity to roll and jump, leaping over a pile of rocks to find cover for a counterattack.
Unexpectedly, in his haste, he failed to notice that the seemingly solid ground was actually a pit covered by a cleverly disguised canvas.
The piles of stones were meant to weigh down the canvas.
As he jumped, only a small corner of the canvas collapsed.
At the bottom of the pit, there were some packages.
Ronan glanced and saw that it was all goods!
Is this the place where the Mexicans hide their goods? No one is guarding it; the Mexicans didn't expect a battle...
Around the pit, bullets were flying, and just like before, Ronan wanted to escape but couldn't.
Puff, puff...
Gunshots from an M4 with a silencer rang out, and the remaining black and Mexican men screamed in succession.
Ronan always felt something was off. Even if the drug enforcement team arrived, they wouldn't rashly come out. Listening to the gunfire, it seemed far away. He quietly set up the disguised canvas.
First, he needed to assess the situation.
Crouching on top of the package, he raised his head slightly and looked through the gaps between the stones. Bullets were still flying all around.
Ronan noticed combatants wearing helmets, desert camouflage, and bulletproof vests appearing around the quarry. They were accurately shooting the untrained gangsters.
After this intense firefight, both the Carter gang and the Jose cartel suffered heavy casualties. There were not many people on either side who understood the concept of proper ammunition usage. Many of them ran out of bullets for their AKs.
The mercenary team cleared the area swiftly, and Ian, the CIA operative, had shooting accuracy that surpassed even the elite mercenaries.
When Ian's gun fired, it never missed, and at most, two bullets were enough to end a life.
The leader of the mercenary team, John, asked through the radio, "Ian, I heard you underwent long-term training with the CIA, FBI, and Pentagon joint organization. What was the training about? Your skills have improved too quickly."
Ian shot and killed two Mexican men in succession and replied, "I'd be in a sorry state if I violated confidentiality."
This one-sided battle was like a hunt for the nine-man mercenary team and the two highly skilled CIA operatives. Ian gave the order, "Advance and clear the area!"
A Mexican man with an explosive hairstyle gestured towards Eric.
Ian raised his hand and a single shot blew the man's head apart!
Was he the first one to shoot? Ronan became even more uneasy.
He couldn't go out first!
Eleven elite soldiers, including one extraordinary marksman, were closing in from all sides.
Anyone who dared to expose themselves would either get shot in the chest or have their head blown apart.
"I surrender! I surrender!" Book's mentality collapsed, and with one arm bleeding, he opened a suitcase, revealing the dollars inside, and pushed it out forcefully. "Take the money! Take it all!"
"Whether you want to know the Carter gang's secrets or need my testimony, I'll cooperate with whatever you want!" He pushed out another suitcase.
He pushed a bit too hard, and his head emerged slightly.
Bang!
Ian raised his hand, and a single shot exploded Book's head, and his body fell to the ground.
Then, two consecutive shots blew apart the heads of two injured black men.
Ronan couldn't help feeling inferior in his marksmanship compared to this man.
Gunshots resumed one after another, and a mercenary shouted, "Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
Eric held his rifle and casually asked Ian in Japanese, "Have you seen Ronan?"
Ian responded in Japanese, "No, he might be dead. If he's alive, take him down!"
The gunfire had stopped, and the wilderness fell silent. Ronan listened attentively and could understand perfectly; he comprehended the Japanese language through soul absorption during the ambush of the Morales gang.
Holding the gun, Ronan controlled his fluctuating emotions, quickly stabilizing himself.
A steady heart leads to steady hands!
Steady hands result in a steady gun!
Eleven elites, including one extraordinary marksman...
"Hey, guys, come take a look!"
A mercenary walked toward the suitcases and exclaimed with excitement, "Dollars! Two full suitcases of dollars! We're getting rich!"
These mercenaries were accustomed to violence and sold their loyalty to the CIA for the sake of money.
During combat, they still maintained discipline, but once the battle was over, with millions of dollars in front of them, it was hard for these money-driven individuals to resist temptation.
Seven or eight people rushed towards the money.
Ronan changed his mind and activated his spirit vision. His left hand concealed itself behind the gaps between stones, and he immediately harvested a large number of soul fragments around the visible red auras! He summoned the Book of Dominion, quickly opened a corner of the canvas, leaving five soul fragments for future use, and threw the rest outside.
The money box was not too far away, and Ronan had received training. Using dozens of soul fragments, he scattered them around the money box like a celestial flower.
The people heading towards the money box remained oblivious.
Without spirit vision, they couldn't see the soul fragments.
Ian felt something and searched around but found nothing. He pressed the mic button and said, "Clay, Wes, Hunter, be on alert!"
The three mercenaries, carrying backpacks, also wanted to see the money, but they remembered that they were employed by the CIA. They stopped and kept watch around.
John arrived at the money box, picked up a stack of US dollars, put it in front of him, and sniffed it enthusiastically. The scent was so delightful!
Who would willingly trade their lives for this dangerous job except for those who really needed money!
He grabbed another stack and tossed it to Eric, who followed behind, saying, "I don't know your daughter's name, but send her my regards!"
Ian stood at a distance, stopped, squatted down, and picked up a miniature transmitter.
What about Ronan?
Seeing most of the mercenaries gathered near the money box, Ronan concentrated, silently chanting the Soul Flame!
Whoosh!
Several dozen piles of red flames suddenly surged around the money box. The six mercenaries, including Eric, who were close to the money box, were immediately engulfed in flames!
Shrill screams filled the air as the seven people found no way to escape, turning into human torches!
"Eric!" Even with his strong mental composure, Ian was devastated by the agonizing screams of his longtime partner. He stared at the horrifying scene, his heart torn apart. "Eric!"
The other three mercenaries had no idea what had happened but immediately ran towards them, attempting to rescue their comrades.
Ronan's gun was already extended, aimed at Ian, whose attention was focused on the bonfire. He fired three shots in rapid succession!
For those who wanted to kill him, he wouldn't show mercy!
But Ian reacted extremely quickly. Just as Ronan's gun shifted towards him, the training he received from the joint special forces came into play, and he instinctively threw himself to the side.
His rifle fell to the ground, and his lower leg took a bullet. Ignoring the injury, Ian drew the M9 pistol from his waist.
After Ronan's three shots, he immediately shifted his aim towards the mercenary who was preparing to take cover behind his backpack and fired single shots at each of them.
Compared to Ian, their marksmanship was far inferior.
Two of them were hit in the chest and abdomen, and one had his shoulder shredded.
Ronan's mind trembled, and he quickly hunkered down. Ian's retaliatory bullets flew just above his head, and the heat from the bullets singed a large chunk of his hair.
Crouching, Ronan moved to the other side of the pit. He was about to raise his gun for another round of shooting when his mind trembled again, warning him to stop his body.
Bang! Bang!
Two bullets hit the spot where he was about to pop his head out.
This person was an expert marksman!
At a distance of over thirty meters, his pistol had such precision!
The screams of the human torches ceased, leaving behind charred remnants on the ground.
Grieving the loss of his friend, Ian angrily shouted while firing, "You are Ronan!"
He aimed at the sudden appearance of the pit, ready to blow the person's head off if they dared to show themselves!
"You dare to shoot at us!" Ian seethed with anger. "Do you know the consequences?"
Ronan peered through the gaps between the stones, keeping an eye on Ian, prepared for a sudden attack, and retorted, "You can kill me, but I can't defend myself?"
Ian, not sure where things went wrong, caught a glimpse of his fallen comrade's remains. "You, with your miserable life, dare to compare yourself to us?"
Ronan changed magazines and replied, "The Mexican man with the explosive hair is just like me, isn't he?"
The blood flowing from his lower leg had soaked his pants and military boots. If he dragged this out, he would be the one who ended up dead. Ian wanted to provoke Ronan to come out, "You're smart! But also foolish! You killed my partner, a father with two kids to take care of! Today, you must die!"
He had undergone rigorous training just to become a soldier, and he couldn't die here. Eric's two children needed someone to care for them. "When you contacted me, your fate was sealed! Do you know that Churchill deceived you? He introduced me and Eric to your father, and you thought he was a good man, but he was playing you!"
Seeing that Ronan didn't react, Ian fabricated more lies, "Your father's death was orchestrated by me and Churchill, carried out by the Morales gang!"
Ian believed that revealing this information about Ronan's quest for vengeance for his father would elicit a different reaction.
However, Ronan's inner self had already changed.
While Ian was speaking, Ronan took off his coat and draped it over the Mexican's backpack.
"F@@K!" Ronan burst into a string of expletives, looking like an enraged beast. "Bastard, I'm going to kill you! Kill you!"
He swung his arm, and with the coat-wrapped backpack, he ascended the pile of stones.
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