After Raymond Brooks frantically stuffed his passport and phone into the small bag and slung it over his shoulder, he first picked up his backpack, but upon seeing the corpse on the floor, he immediately dropped his backpack again.

There was nothing important in the backpack, but next to the corpse lay an MP7 submachine gun.

He first stuffed the pistol into his pants pocket, then Raymond Brooks picked up the submachine gun from the ground. At this moment, Captain also burst into the room.

Captain looked at the submachine gun Raymond Brooks had picked up. He wanted to say something, but Raymond Brooks immediately lowered his voice and said, “I won’t fire recklessly. I... I know what I’m doing.”

Raymond Brooks wanted to say he was a military enthusiast, but realized that identity wasn’t very convincing, so he quickly changed his words.

Actions speak louder than words. Raymond Brooks pressed the magazine release, pulled out the magazine, and checked the quick-view window.

There were about twenty rounds left in the thirty-round magazine. After confirming the ammo count, Raymond Brooks reinserted the magazine, swiftly extended the stock from its stowed position, unfolded the foregrip, and prepared the MP7 for shouldered firing. Then he switched the safety to off and placed his finger on the trigger guard.

This whole sequence of actions was deliberately performed for Captain to see. Raymond Brooks wanted to convey that he knew how to use the gun, so Captain wouldn’t have to worry about him messing things up.

The movements weren’t exactly expert, but there were no mistakes or hesitation. At the very least, he seemed quite familiar with the MP7.

In any close-quarters combat, someone who doesn’t know how to use a gun only poses a greater threat to their own teammates.

Conversely, given the situation Captain and his group were facing, if they could get reliable extra firepower, he certainly wouldn’t refuse.

Captain nodded, dragged the bodyguard’s corpse into the lounge, and after coming out, didn’t look at Raymond Brooks again. Instead, he left the door slightly ajar, then gripped his rifle with both hands and took cover behind the door.

Captain’s actions indicated that Raymond Brooks had been granted permission to use the gun, and Captain even turned his back to him.

Now armed and with Captain’s approval, though there weren’t many rounds in the magazine, Raymond Brooks quickly stepped to the bodyguard’s corpse and searched it, finding another fully loaded thirty-round magazine on the bodyguard’s belt.

There was only one spare magazine, but it was enough. As Raymond Brooks was tucking the spare mag into his belt, he suddenly heard Captain whisper, “Contact imminent. Don’t stand behind me. Find a suitable firing position, and only open fire after I do.”

If Captain were talking to his own teammate, he wouldn’t need to be so explicit, so Raymond Brooks was a bit surprised and asked, “Are you talking to me?”

“Is there anyone else here? Shut up and find your firing position!”

Raymond Brooks felt a surge of energy, because Captain was briefing him on the situation and specifying the conditions for opening fire. That meant he was being treated as a temporary teammate, not as a threat or a useless burden.

Raymond Brooks was ready to shoot at the drug dealers. No matter the outcome, he wasn’t going to just sit and wait for death.

Suddenly, Captain whispered again, “Trouble. The enemy didn’t come straight in—they stopped outside. If we need to break out, you follow on my left and cover my left flank. Absolutely do not fire from behind me, understand?”

At that moment, a phone started ringing.

Captain whipped his head around, and Raymond Brooks also looked around. He quickly realized the ringtone was coming from the lounge—a phone placed on the TV was ringing.

Captain immediately said urgently, “It’s Sanchez’s phone. Someone’s calling Sanchez. The enemy came prepared. Get ready for contact... Translator, go get the phone.”

The first part was to notify his teammates; the last sentence was directed at Raymond Brooks. Raymond Brooks immediately rushed to the TV and grabbed the phone.

The phone was still ringing. Raymond Brooks glanced at the caller ID and immediately said to Captain, “The name is saved as Carlos. He’s an acquaintance of Sanchez!”

By now, the phone had been ringing for over twenty seconds, but Captain hesitated, unable to decide what to do.

The people who drove up hadn’t entered Sanchez’s yard directly, but stopped outside and called first. This meant they were being cautious. If the call wasn’t answered, they’d know something was wrong.

But from Captain’s perspective, the call couldn’t be answered either, because if it was, the people outside would immediately know something was off.

Raymond Brooks decided to take a gamble. He said urgently to Captain, “I’m going to answer it. Don’t make a sound. Trust me!”

There was no time to explain. Raymond Brooks swiped to answer the call, and as he did, Captain’s eyes widened.

Raymond Brooks began an improvised performance, shouting in a flustered voice, “Tell him to shut up! I’m answering the phone!”

After shouting, Raymond Brooks put the phone to his ear and said respectfully, “Hello, Mr. Carlos, things are a bit chaotic here, I didn’t hear it just now.”