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... omewhat inferior to rocket launchers.
"Change positions, quick!"
Two men scurried to another room, disheveled; within minutes, mortar shells blasted in their direction.
In another alley,
"Ricardo! Reload! Reload, motherfucker, are you dead yet?" Sergeant Gómez bellowed.
They were eight, trapped in a building down an alley, surrounded by gangs of drug traffickers; just looking at them made your scalp tingle, and only pickup trucks could enter — tough to tur ...
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