Specter

"Movement in the compound, crew." The TV operator said, tracking the movements of each of the personnel rushing around the compound.

"Shadow-1, troops in contact!" Astolfo shouted.

The cartel had flanked them, and were attacking from the left, firing an RPG.

"RPG!" Alejandro shouted.

"Move left, now!" N harshly shouted.

"Enemy personnel movin' in fast." The NAV officer noted, dropping down 3 40mm rounds. That seemed to have done it, as now the flank was nothing but red mist.

"Ghost, no movement detected; what's your status?" Graves asked.

"Proper air-support, mate." Ghost said.

"Roger that, 0-7. Be advised you're clear up to the compound, but the gate is blocked at this time." Graves informed.

"Give us a way in, yeah?" Astolfo said.

"Say no more." The TV operator said, firing an LTM rocket.

"Boom." Graves said, right as it hit the gate, blasting it to ashes.

"Door's open, get going; boys and girls." Graves said.

Playing: Push it To The Limit by Paul Engemann

The air crackled with tension as the team surged forward, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Gunfire echoed in the compound, a chaotic symphony of shots and explosions.

Astolfo's rifle spat fire as he targeted cartel members, each shot precise. Alejandro's rifle roared, mowing down any opposition in its path. N's swordsmanship, precise shooting, and J's efficiency only amplified the chaos.

A sudden explosion rocked the ground as an RPG collided with a nearby structure, sending debris flying. The team, undeterred, pressed on, navigating through the chaos with practiced efficiency. The acrid scent of gunpowder mingled with the metallic tang of blood in the air.

The TV operator, with a cool demeanor, continued to rain down grenades, creating controlled chaos among the enemy ranks. The once-formidable flank now lay in disarray, a testament to the team's strategic prowess..

As they reached the entrance, the team faced a fierce resistance. Close-quarters combat ensued, bullets flying in a deadly ballet. The compound echoed with the sounds of gunfire, shouts, and the occasional explosion.

The team pushed forward, relentless in their assault. Smoke and dust filled the air, creating an otherworldly atmosphere as they fought their way through the compound. The gate, now reduced to ruins, served as a grim reminder of the intensity of the battle.

With sheer determination, the team cleared the entrance, leaving a scene of carnage in their wake. Blood-stained walls and fallen adversaries marked their path as they prepared for the next phase of their mission, the distant rumble of the approaching convoy serving as a reminder that time was of the essence.

"Ghost, no movement detected." Graves said.

"Copy, pushin' to the entrance now." Ghost said, making his way towards the entrance with the others.

"Roger, we see ya. Be advised, the convoy is 3 klicks out, ya'll need to haul ass." Graves informed.

"Solid copy." Ghost replied.

"Alejandro, where's that exfil?" J questioned.

"5 minutes out." Alejandro responded, chambering another round, the spent casing tumbling to the ground with a clink.

"It's gonna be close." Soap murmured.

"Let's do this then." Ghost said.

"Breaching..." J's voice cut through the tension, and on the TV operator's screen, a billowing cloud of smoke engulfed the view.

The chaotic symphony of gunfire erupted as the team stormed in. Cartel members, caught off guard, unleashed a barrage of bullets in a desperate attempt to fend off the intruders.

"[They're here!]" A panicked shout echoed through the smoke, punctuated by the staccato rhythm of automatic gunfire.

"[Get the major upstairs!]" Another voice bellowed, the urgency in their tone revealing the gravity of the situation. The team pressed forward through the haze, their silhouettes flickering like ghosts in the swirling smoke.

Bullets whizzed past, the air filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder. Astolfo and Alejandro laid down suppressing fire, pinning down the cartel forces. N, with tactical precision, directed the team's movements, orchestrating their advance through the chaotic battlefield.

"Shadow-1, positive ID on Hassan!" Astolfo shouted over the chaos.

"He's movin' upstairs, second floor, northwest side!" N relayed.

"Keep pushing! Upstairs, now!" J's command sliced through the chaos, the team rallying to the call. The cartel's resistance intensified as they fought to protect their high-value target.

The battle raged on, a relentless dance of bullets and bodies. Each step forward was met with fierce opposition. The smoke began to dissipate, revealing a scene of mayhem—bullet-riddled walls, fallen adversaries, and the relentless advance of the operatives.

On the exterior, the TV operator's keen eyes locked onto Hassan and his companion as they bolted through the second-floor door, sprinting desperately across the bridge to another section of the compound.

"Yep, that's Hassan alright," Graves affirmed, his eyes fixed on the screen as J and Astolfo emerged from the same second-floor door, hot on the terrorist's trail.

"Shadow-1, PID confirmed on Hassan, closing in now!" J declared, slashing 8 large gashes in another cartel member's body.

"He's gone inside!" Astolfo's urgent shout echoed.

"Clear the path; we've got your backs," Graves reassured.

"Target's now moving internal, Southwest building, second floor," the NAV officer relayed, unleashing a 40mm round that turned the two cartel members outside into a haze of red mist.

"Our team can handle the inside. Keep them covered," Graves instructed.

"Do not engage the buildings."

As the team breached the building, the air inside crackled with tension. The narrow corridors and dimly lit rooms became a battleground as cartel members, caught off guard, scrambled to defend their turf. Gunfire erupted, echoing through the enclosed spaces, and the distinct sound of boots pounding against the floor reverberated.

J and Astolfo led the charge, swiftly clearing rooms and neutralizing threats. N's commands echoed through the team's earpieces, guiding their movements with precision. The building became a labyrinth of danger, each turn hiding a potential enemy. Not that said enemy would get a shot in before being turned into Swiss cheese.

"Watch your six! Tango down!" Astolfo's voice cut through the chaos as they methodically advanced, leaving fallen enemies in their wake. The scent of gun smoke and the metallic tang of blood and steel hung in the air.

Eventually, the team cornered Hassan on the second floor.

"Who the fuck are you?" Hassan asked desperately.

The sounds of someone being pistol whipped filled the comms channel.

"Mexican Special Forces. Your ass is coming with us." Alejandro snarled, picking Hassan up by the collar.

"Shadow-1, Specter 9-7, jackpot. Target is secure, I say again; target is secure." Astolfo relayed, surveying the chaos. The bodies, the bullet holes, the blood.

"9-7, solid copy. Ghost, what's the status of your exfil?" Graves questioned.

"This is Victor 1-1, exfil is 2 minutes out." Alejandro responded.

"Alejandro, what's the call?" Ghost asked.

"They're with the cartel, free to engage." Alejandro responded.

"Shadow-1, how copy?" Ghost asked.

"Solid, All Shadows, Mex-Army is considered hostile at this time." Graves answered.

"TV you are cleared hot to engage the convoy."