"Sniper!!"
A member of Los Zetas of Asian descent shouted.
These were clearly some of the old veterans Guzman had recruited from within Vietnam.
Their tactical movements were smooth, a graceful roll that led them to slide down the backside of the hill, gasping for air as they clutched their weapons.
If it had been a sturdy European or American, that very move might have given themselves a concussion.
Simon Haye lay prone, utterly calm.
Outwait him?
He had once outlasted an eagle.
Meanwhile, the two women were frantically splashing in the water, attempting to wade directly across, but the waist-deep water panicked them, and with an unsteady step, one of them fell in.
Their screams of terror filled the air as they instinctively clung to each other, floundering in the water.
"Help! Help! We're from the United Nations... glub-glub~"
Simon Haye didn't even blink.
What a joke.
What if he popped his head out and got shot?
Women would only slow him down.
