Chapter 19: The Meat Grinder

Milton’s gaze bypassed "the boss" and landed directly on Brandon. As a police officer, he should have received training in indoor combat; even if he hadn't, he ought to possess at least some basic common sense.

Brandon glanced at the booby trap by the entrance, looked behind him, and pointed toward a nearby crossroads. "I think," he said uncertainly, "that this intersection might serve as an ambush point."

"If we station one person in the blind spot on each side of the intersection and another around the corner at the end of the corridor, we can strike as soon as the enemy approaches. They’ll have a hard time reacting in time."

When an attacking force faces an indoor intersection, the two people responsible for covering the flanks—the ones who have to "slice the pie"—are overwhelmed by information. The enemy could appear anywhere in the blind spots, and they only need to hold one angle. Meanwhile, the attackers must process endless variables and cover countless potential points of contact. They are all unfavorable firing positions. Provided the equipment and intelligence gaps are not vast, such terrain almost guarantees casualties for the attacking party. Theoretically, it is an ideal kill zone.

However, Milton shook his head. "I don't think this place is suitable. First, this group of enemies is likely carrying explosives. Since we are so close to the entrance, they will still have plenty of grenades when they reach this point. The 'blind spots' might not be safe at all."

"Furthermore, they have the numbers and we don't. We cannot afford a trade in casualties. If we set an ambush here, the two people on the sides of the intersection will be unable to retreat downstairs or regroup. We would be constantly outnumbered and picked off one by one."

Brandon thought for a moment and conceded the point. "Then what if we set another booby trap at this intersection? For example, we place a body in the middle of the road with a trap underneath it. If they kick it by accident, it triggers. How about that?"

Milton chuckled. "We certainly need to set booby traps, but what you’re suggesting would only serve to delay them at best."

Brandon smiled bitterly and shook his head. "There’s no other way. Unless they’re idiots, once they’ve been hit by one trap, they’re going to be suspicious of anything strange on the path ahead."

"You just said it yourself: the path ahead," Milton said, turning his gaze to the sides of the fork. "Common sense dictates that traps should be placed on the enemy's inevitable route, and they should ideally be sudden and concealed, like that tripwire I set earlier."

"But once the enemy is on guard, we must think in reverse. Setting traps on paths they feel they can choose to go down or ignore—that is what makes them let their guard down."

"Look, this left fork leads to a small utility closet. Even from the doorway, you can see there are almost no blind spots. The room is so small that no one would hide in such a death trap. Therefore, to the attackers, this side path seems very safe."

"This path is neither a necessary route nor a place where they would expect enemies. But out of caution, they will probably still give it a quick check."

Brandon was confused and scratched his head. "Uh, so?"

Milton explained, "The Fan Kang gang sells drugs. If we put a few slightly valuable medicine boxes on the shelves, we don't have to worry about them missing it. It’s reasonable to find medicine in a pharmacy; it won't arouse suspicion."

The officer finally began to understand. "You mean to exploit the gang’s lack of discipline and individual greed by placing valuables on a non-essential path to lure them into a trap?"

"Exactly," Milton replied. "We can also place some bear traps on the main path leading to the second basement level, but nowhere else. This reinforces the suggestion that 'the traps are all on the main road,' that 'the side paths are safe,' and that 'this item is something I can take or leave.' These drugs aren't incredibly valuable, which will further lower their guard."

In short, the goal was to convince the enemy that this wasn't a vital route, that no one would be foolish enough to booby-trap it, and that the items weren't tempting enough to be a lure—that it was their own decision to investigate, not something the defenders forced upon them.

Brandon understood the logic but still voiced his concern. "What if they remain cautious and aren't blinded by greed? Or, conversely, what if they’re so careless they don't even search that thoroughly?"

"Then we just lose one booby trap," Milton laughed. "As I said, it’s a non-essential path. It’s perfectly normal for the enemy not to go there. Maybe there’s a twenty or thirty percent chance? We’re just trying our luck."

"Officer Brandon, never think that taking a chance is absurd. Victory is built upon the accumulation of one 'probability' after another. If the enemy can dodge a 'thirty percent' chance once or twice, do you think they can dodge it ten times? By securing more of these chances, the scales of victory will tip in our favor. Do you understand?"

"As for the tactics that follow... let's stick to the conventional plan for now. We’ll see if we can use the vertical fire advantage in the stairwell. We will retreat gradually, blocking them layer by layer. Do not linger in one spot for too long. Once your position is exposed, move to the next firing point immediately according to the plan. There must be no hesitation. Grenades and stun grenades... these are the walkie-talkies..."

After hearing the full tactical arrangement, Brandon fell silent for a moment before asking, "Are you... really not from Kaibil?"

Meticulous and insidious. The Kaibil were the special operations forces of the Guatemalan Army.

Milton shook his head and said calmly, "This is going to be a bitter fight. I hope to see you two back in the pharmacy later. Let's go."

"That’s a hell of a thing to say..."

Brandon suddenly felt as though the three of them were a highly capable, well-coordinated team. Working with Milton felt safe, steady, and efficient; no matter the situation, he always had a solution. Unlike many leaders who only criticized, complained, and set unrealistic goals while lacking the skill to lead, leaving their subordinates feeling resentful and unconvinced.

In just over twenty minutes, they had bonded into a team! A team that wouldn't retreat even in the face of a powerful enemy.

But he had only known Milton for a few hours. Was this just personal charisma? Perhaps... following Milton might actually lead to wealth and success, and maybe even a decent position at the police station.

Brandon took a deep breath and followed Milton toward the rear.

Milton held his weapon and stepped toward his designated firing position. All the traps and booby-traps were set. The phase of empty theorizing was over; now, it was time to put their lives on the line.

Actually, facing five heavily armed enemies, Milton had no real confidence, and he had already exhausted most of his tricks. But to forge a team and earn their respect, he had to appear confident—he had to always have a way forward.

Even if he had to fake it!

Five minutes later, Milton’s noise-canceling headphones picked up a faint, muffled conversation from ahead.

"Why is there no one on guard outside? How could they be so careless?"

"Probably busy with some woman... these guys have always been like that. Small-dicked and obsessed with playing around, haha."

"You think everyone is like our boss, wearing a bulletproof vest and carrying every weapon they own the moment they step out?"

"You go in first and call those losers out to help us move the stuff from the truck. This is no time to be playing with women."

"When we catch that prosecutor, I’m going to feed him to the dogs and hang him from a traffic light. Too bad we haven't found his family yet."

"That's boring... we should find a few HIV-positive guys and have them rape him to death."

"Enough. You go move the stuff. I’m going inside to call them."

"..."

*Bang, bang, bang!*

After a perfunctory knocking, Milton, crouching around the corner, heard the harsh screech of a rusty bolt turning.

The sewer gate was opening.

*Click.*

The booby trap rigged with an M374 shell was triggered.

An instant later, a terrifying wall of fire engulfed the doorway, obliterating the figure that had opened the gate. Even with his headphones on, Milton felt the violent tremor and shockwave.

*BOOM!*