In a bunker.
Jose Andres Guardado had a fierce expression on his face, with several new scars visible across it; there was also a bandage wrapped around his left hand, and scattered around him sat quite a few drug traffickers.
All of them were subdued, wiping their guns.
The Monterrey Division...
Now there were only just over 400 men left.
Without reinforcements...
They would all perish right here.
As for running away?
It was too late for that; if they had run before the battle started, they might have made it, but if they tried now, they would surely be shot dead.
Jose Andres Guardado grabbed a water bottle next to him, tilted his head back, but not a single drop was left; he licked his dry lips, "Who still has something to drink?"
All the drug traffickers around shook their heads.
"Fuck!"
Guardado was filled with resentment, especially towards Victor. Why the hell did you have to be so relentless?
I don't even dare to surrender!
