Working as a police officer in Mexico

Blanco looked at Ethan Hunt's silence, a surge of joy in her heart.

Of course, she didn't want to die.

If she could make him realize how tough she was, maybe she could save her own life.

Just as she was about to speak again, her throat rolling with words…

She heard Ethan Hunt ask, "Are you done?"

Blanco was stunned as he pulled out a gun and aimed it at her head: "Biu!"

The bullet hit her head directly, and the blood spurted from the back, instantly staining the wall tiles red.

A hole appeared in the back of her skull.

Blanco's eyes were wide open, her face filled with terror as she leaned against the wall, her body softened, and she slid down, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

"Sorry, you talk too damn much!"

Ethan Hunt's face twitched as he remembered being tied to a bed by her, being violated—it was a humiliation!

It was like you go out PCing, and end up with a short, greasy fat slob (like me); you have to look at his lecherous smile and play along, moaning a little.

I'm selling my-fucking-self!

I had no choice before, but now... I don't want to press "F" anymore!

You still want men to bow down to you?

Damn it, I'd rather just slap you right there.

Killing you is doing you a favor for "taking care" of me.

Ethan Hunt, a typical heartless bastard!

Maybe he was worried about Blanco's fat blocking the shot, so he fired multiple times at her head. Now she should be beyond saving.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

After one last look, he pulled the cigarette butt from her mouth and tossed it into the urinal. These butts were like open flames, careful they might start a fire.

Yeah... everything exploded outside, and you're worried about fire hazards.

Typical, coming out of a Mexican asylum.

He washed his hands and was leaving the restroom when he saw Jonathan Pannier and his men charging up. They saw each other, and instinctively Jonathan raised his gun.

"Hey, Victor!"

Ethan Hunt quickly raised his hands and yelled.

Jonathan Pannier forcefully pushed his teammate's gun barrel away, but the shot was fired anyway, the bullet whizzing past and hitting the light above Ethan's head, making him shiver in fright.

That was too close!

"Drop your weapon!" Jonathan called out warily.

Ethan Hunt dropped his handgun to the ground and was pinned down by two burly men, "Hey, guys, take it easy."

"Are you with Mexican intelligence?"

"Of course! I'm the ace!"

Ace… my ass.

Jonathan Pannier took a good look before slowly nodding. Only Victor's people could be so... shameless.

He patted his teammate's shoulder, signaling them to release Ethan.

"What are you doing here?"

Ethan Hunt stood up, stretching his body. At that question, his hand froze, "Top secret," he said tersely.

That Yankee looked at him deeply, waved his hand, and indicated that he could go. Ethan smiled in thanks, asking politely, "Want a smoke?"

"Just go!"

Jonathan Pannier said with a dark face.

Americans really lack a sense of humor.

Watching him leave, the squad continued sweeping towards the courthouse!

Ethan Hunt who left the building checked his directions and slipped away towards a quieter area; he still had a mission to execute.

He was, after all, Pablo's personal consultant for Mexico.

What? Blanco's dead?

But she and I were married.

Indeed, the two got hitched in Colombia, no banquet, pseudonyms used, of course.

Even if Blanco's gone, Pablo's got to respect the connection, right?

One must admit, Ethan Hunt is a daring man!

The motto of the Mexico International News Department: "Only the stars are above us!"

...

Kennedy's face was covered in grime. He yanked down his ESS Company-made NVG goggles, which were slightly cracked. Tossing them aside, he leaned against a corner, stuffing bullets into his magazine.

That last mortar shell was disorienting!

Intelligence did report that the Colombian drug traffickers had sophisticated weaponry; they should've used air strikes, but Kennedy knew, what sort of fighter jet could make a 4000-kilometer journey from Mexico to Colombia?

And then fly back?

Victor's Anti-Drug Force needed an offshore base!

Especially in South America, a military base there would solve most problems.

Hearing a car engine, Kennedy looked up and saw a pickup truck appear, the drug trafficker manning the machine gun looked around nervously and spotted him hidden in the store, frantically shouting to alert his comrades.

As soon as his warning dropped, bang!

His head was blown apart by an M82A1 sniper rifle!

Like a watermelon.

The sniper hiding in the building opposite was about to take another shot when he saw a glimmer at 10 o'clock in another building, maybe... a sniper scope. He instinctively ducked.

Biu—!

The bullet pierced the wall behind him.

"Position at 10 o'clock, the building with the red roof, fourth floor! See it? Snipe him, I'll be your decoy!" the sniper shouted to his spotter.

The spotter gave an OK gesture, took a deep breath, and switched the safety off on the RPO-A style 93mm rocket launcher next to him.

Monocular scope, effective range 800 meters.

This was basically a sniper... tube, wasn't it?

The sniper took off his helmet, propped it up slowly with a stick, revealing what seemed like a head. As soon as he appeared, in a split second—

Cheng!

The helmet was shot off.

His spotter took advantage of the distraction and rushed to the window, locking onto the position with a swift gaze, took aim, and fired!

Bring it on!

Face off against a sniper!

With just a slightly larger caliber on my side.

The drug trafficker about to work the bolt was baffled, his head buzzing as he watched the opponent raise the rocket launcher.