Daily life of an American TV drama agent

"I think that to deal with a small local warlord, the resistance guerrillas are enough. Don't underestimate the guerrillas. They have very rich combat experience. Plus what I taught... uh... I have heard that they are very powerful. Using guerrilla tactics, it is not easy to subdue the little warlord on that island."

Ron thought to himself that it was so dangerous and he almost let it slip.

"This is different, Ron. The one on that island is not a simple little warlord. He is actually a transit point for the CIA to traffic drugs from Brazil to the United States. People from the CIA control it, so I need some other help. ." Sophia bit her lip and begged.

The whole story has gone full circle, and now it’s about the CIA again? Ron found it a bit funny. The CIA really did anything to make money.

Of course, it may be that the demand for drugs in the United States is too great, and it is no longer enough to rely on Mexico and Colombia alone, so the idea of ​​​​Brazilian drugs has begun. As we all know, the United States is the largest drug market in the world today.

How big is this market? In 2017, someone conducted a survey and found that 5% of the world's population in the United States consumed 80% of the world's opioids! It’s really a big country that takes drugs.

"This doesn't sound like an easy job." As he spoke, Ron found the small island Sofia was talking about on the map. The location of this small island is very interesting. It is the northernmost island in Brazil and is further away from French Guiana than from the mainland of Brazil. It is very close, so it would be perfect if it is used as a cargo transfer station.

"Please, Ron, for the sake of the 6,000 civilians on that island, for the sake of the countless Brazilians controlled by the gangs, I heard from the rebels that you are a saint, and only you can Get rid of the CIA puppets."

"It's better for the saint to forget it, but that's right. No one except the CIA would support such a tasteless little warlord to be his agent. Well, I'll take over this job."

Anyway, idle time is idle, and it would be nice to add some trouble to the CIA.

"Thank you, Ron."

After hanging up the phone, Ron looked up at his subordinates: "I need a few volunteers to join a near-death operation. I declare in advance that there will be no benefits except giving you an extra month's salary as a bonus. After all, This is a humanitarian rescue operation to save a group of civilians oppressed by warlords."

It was probably the memory sleeping in his blood that made Guan Yuming feel the same. He was the first to raise his hand, followed by Hank, Arthur and others, especially Carl, who raised his hand high.

Ron said with a black line: "Put your hand down. High school students should go to school properly and don't just want to make big news all day long. I have decided that this time Chris and Arthur will come with me."

"Okay, when?" Chris smiled casually and answered as concisely as ever.

"Now go back and pack your things. In two hours, we will gather at the private airport. Remember to bring your best weapons. We will set off in two hours. In the name of vacation. In addition, Andy, help me notify the rebels to arrange a fishing boat to pick us up. Go to the island.”

"OK, no problem." Andy nodded.

After the meeting, Ron immediately went to buy a vacation outfit, and then wandered to the airport. The other two had been waiting here for a long time. After the plane landed in Miami, it changed colors and took off again, and then again After landing in French Guiana, the whole trip was extremely smooth.

, the only trouble was that when Ron opened the airplane cargo hold and was about to take away his luggage, he discovered that Carl had stuffed himself into the suitcase and followed him.

"What the hell! Why can't you just go on a date and party like other kids your age, then drink in fear at the party, and then try your best to cover up the smell of alcohol when you go home?"

Ron said helplessly. At this moment, Luke and Manny, who are as old as Carl, are probably doing what Ron said above and enjoying their youth.

"Please, I'm not one of those childish guys, boss," Karl curled his lips disdainfully: "I got tired of drinking when I was ten years old. It's more interesting to go on missions with you. Please, boss, don't do it. I'll push you back."

"Okay, from now on, follow me closely. If I find you doing anything, I will kick you back to the plane immediately!"

We've already come, and if we let Karl go back, who knows, this kid will do it again on the road.

Ron didn't believe that he would be obedient if something went wrong, so he might as well keep him with him.

"Yes, boss!" Carl excitedly gave Ron a military salute.

The resistance guide who came to pick up Ron and his group was a Caucasian who spoke like RAP. As soon as they met, he expressed his admiration to Ron:

"Dear mentor, I finally meet you. You don't know how fierce the competition is for the opportunity to be your guide. You are as dazzling as the sun in the dark night. I am so lucky to get the opportunity..."

"Stop! Stop!" Ron interrupted the guide's gushing praises and pointed to the scorched blackness on the island's dock in confusion: "What's going on? Is there a fire here?"

"Oh, that? That was caused by a seaplane the day before yesterday. It seems that two zoologists offended Garza. I heard they molested his daughter, and then Garza sent someone to kill them.

Who knew that these two zoologists were actually ruthless men? They fired at Garza’s soldiers with machine guns from their hydroplanes, then sprayed white phosphorus on the dock and set it on fire with flare guns. I heard that they killed 30 Garza soldiers in one go. A soldier. "

The guide spoke with gusto, but the more Ron listened, the more familiar he felt: "Wait! What do those two people look like?"

A seaplane equipped with machine guns and capable of spraying white phosphorus. Ron had seen one before.

"I don't know. I've never seen them. I heard it from people on the island." The guide waved his hand sheepishly: "But I did see their seaplane when I was helping my mother fish. It had pictures on it. I saw a strange sign and I took a photo of it with my phone.”

The guide said, showing Ron the photo on his phone. The logo of a crow standing on a skull was graffitied with spray paint on the fuselage. Ron's eyes twitched.

"What's wrong? Boss, do you know this group of people?" Arthur asked curiously.

"More than just acquaintances, they are very familiar. Some of them even used to be my teachers." Ron's face showed an expression as if he had eaten a fly: "If you have been in the assassin business for a long enough time, you must have heard They mentioned the names of some of their friends, such as Barney, Yin Yang, Turnpike... and, by the way, Christmas!"

Having said this, Ron suddenly seemed to have remembered something and took a hard look at Arthur's face: "I have always wondered whether that old guy named Christmas could be your long-lost biological father. You two are similar. It’s exactly the same.”

This time, the death squads collided with the death squads. Although Ron was not afraid of those old guys, he still prayed in his heart that it would be best not to encounter them on the battlefield, because it would be very troublesome.

"There are many people who look alike in the world, and I look exactly the same as Decshaw. Why do you never doubt that I am also the son of Andy's girlfriend?" Arthur rolled his eyes fiercely.

"Because I asked Andy privately and Elizabeth assured him that she was not giving birth to twins."

"Damn, you actually asked!"

Arthur muttered something that he didn't know whether he was happy or sad. As an orphan, he had always had the idea of ​​tracing his life experience. Ron's answer was tantamount to saying that another possibility was cut off, but fortunately it also provided another possibility.

One for one, no profit, no loss.

Of course, Ron had already seen through his little thoughts: "It doesn't matter, maybe we will meet Christmas on the battlefield this time. I will definitely help you get a drop of blood. How about doing a paternity test with you?"

"It doesn't matter, I don't care about such trivial matters." Arthur replied duplicitously.

This time it was Ron who rolled his eyes. The arrogant bald middle-aged man is really not cute at all!

"OK, forget it if you don't care," Ron patted the guide on the shoulder: "Come on, continue to tell me, what is the situation on the island now? Especially how many soldiers does this guy named Garza have? I I remember that the intelligence mentioned before that he had 200 people, right? 30 of them were killed, which means he has 170 left?"

"No, it's 500 soldiers." The guide shook his head with a wry smile: "After the two zoologists made a fuss the day before yesterday, more than 300 people came from nowhere. They also followed Garza's command, and their combat effectiveness was better than that of the original Garza. Sa’s men are stronger.”

"How strong?" Chris, who had been silent next to him, suddenly spoke, startling Ron and Arthur. They almost forgot that there was another person on their side.

"Garza built a fortress-like palace on the highest point of the island, and set up checkpoints at all key locations, both overt and covert, and even snipers. Our two previous frontal attacks were blocked. When I came back, I lost a lot of brothers."

"You really shouldn't attack this terrain," Chris used the computer to bring up the topographic map of the island and pointed to the plan of the palace on the top of the mountain. "The top of the mountain is large enough. He built the palace in the center of the circular platform on the top of the mountain. This way The attacking troops have just rushed up the steep slope and will be knocked down as soon as they show their heads. Why don't you use projectile fire to drop the artillery shells into the palace on the top of the mountain?"

When Chris said this, Ron also turned his attention to the guide to see how he would answer. He remembered that the rebels should have a lot of steel pipes obtained by Yuri, and they could make enough Kasan rockets to attack the top of the mountain. Fire coverage.

"It's still because of the terrain, sir." The guide said helplessly: "The rockets are too big. If we launch them in the woods, they will hit the branches and fly around, killing our own people. If we deploy them in the city, they will He was immediately discovered by his lackeys, who brought people over to attack our rocket positions, and we had no other weapons."

Ron grabbed Chris' computer and studied the satellite map carefully, only to realize that it was exactly what the guide said.

Most of this island is covered by tropical rainforest, with dense forest trees and no gaps for launching rockets. The only residential area on the island is built along the pier, in an open area monitored by the top of the mountain.

Under such circumstances, it was simply a dream to seize the island with the limited weapons in the hands of the rebels. For a moment, Ron didn't know what to do, but fortunately he still had two men.

"What do you think?"

"Uh... I think it might be possible if a few helicopters can be used to straf the top of the mountain." Arthur thought for a while and said uncertainly.

Ron responded with a big eye roll: "If I had a helicopter, I would still need you. What do you think about the next one, Chris?"

Chris frowned: "At least two elite teams of 20 people. One is conducting a feint attack from the front to attract firepower, and the other is climbing to the top of the mountain from the tropical rain forest to penetrate from behind."

Ron didn't say anything. This method was slightly better than Arthur's, but it wasn't much better. It was also not feasible. There were only four of them in total, and one of them was a child. Where could we find two elites of 20 people? The team goes?

As for finding rebel militiamen to come over and recharge? forget it.

These recruits, who had never experienced formal military training, were only as good as the motley crew of warlords. The word elite was far from them.

"Boss, I have a way!" Carl raised his hand excitedly. He had raised his hand many times before when Ron asked, but he was ignored by Ron gracefully every time, and it was the same this time. .

"Go and do your homework. Don't worry about the children. Don't worry about adults' matters." Ron waved his hand at him impatiently.

"Boss, I really have a way!" Carl kept jumping up and down in front of Ron anxiously. Ron was really upset by the noise and could only say helplessly: "Okay, although I know that your method is probably useless. , but right now we have a lot of time to waste, so just tell me, I hope it will make my eyes brighter."

"If your solution is to use drones, it goes without saying that our opponent this time is the CIA. As Americans, we must not show any flaws. No matter how the drones are modified, they can always pass the production Link to ourselves."

"Of course not, I'm not that stupid, don't always treat me like a child!" Karl pouted unconvinced.

"Are you going to tell me or not? If not, just shut up and keep doing your homework." Ron said with a dark face. In order to make Karl more honest, he bought two math problem books in the store as soon as he got off the plane. Give Carl his homework, and if he doesn't write, ask him to get back on the plane immediately.

"Isn't it okay?" Carl's face dropped, he squeezed next to Ron, pointed at the satellite map and said: "I think we can use artillery to flatten all the checkpoints on the top of the mountain, and then go up and kill that son of a bitch. .”

"If we had had artillery, would we still have not killed that son of a bitch until now?" the guide said with a smile. Children are indeed children.

Unexpectedly, Ron's eyes suddenly lit up: "Use cannons? This plan seems feasible."