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” a man in a dress shirt suddenly yells from the row of cars across from us. Iceman goes ploddingly, planning and executing each step.
The guys I’m with hold their hands out at their sides. I don’t have a tactical sling, so my rifle is still in my hand. By 5 a.m., we are hopping between boulders in a dry riverbed that snakes up a narrow valley.
“We got two ops that we want to plan, based off the intel that we got from the Border Patrol last night about a drug run that may be coming in,” he says.
I watch the sun slowly wipe away the shadow of the mountain. ” “Hopped the fence.” He was out on an op with someone else and they jumped across. “We have shots fired on the fence line,” Rogue says over the radio. He moves in close and looks straight into my eyes, his jaw taut.
Idris Elba isn't Stringer Bell; he's DCI John Luther.
“Keep your weapons nice and tight,” Captain Pain orders. Unlike the others, I don’t view southern Arizona as a war zone, so I didn’t put steel plates in my chest rig. He has an eye condition that makes him nearly blind at night, even with the goggles.
You not only know who Nicola Walker and Olivia Colman are — you can name half a dozen of their respective IMDB credits.
After about 30 minutes, Iceman wakes up and looks across the valley. “We’re like, ‘We’re in Mexico, dude.'” Iceman and I stare across the valley, now orange with the dawn. “If I can slay me a body today, I’ll be fucking happy,” he says.
“It’s hard to believe that just on the other side of that is Mexico,” he says. We walk along the ridge to the southern side of the mountain.
From here, the border fence is a barely perceptible stitch across the land. A few minutes later, Captain Pain radios for us to head toward the road for exfiltration. Iceman and I find a dirt road and make a leisurely descent.
“You know, Cali, I have to say, you’re not a bad operator,” Iceman says. “If you ever decide to make your way over to Colorado, you give me a holler.