"Guy, I don't know what crazy bug crawled up where the sun don't shine, but the only aliens we'll be seeing are illegal aliens. This is Mexico after all. But don't shoot the Mexicans. This is a Nazi and Al Qaeda shooting only mission. We are Americans and America hates civilian casualties."
"Well, if we aren't-" The SWAT officer began.
"Hang onto something, it's about to get dicey!" The pilot gave them about half a second of warning before the helicopter banked hard to one side.
Flak and tracer fire erupted all around them as the Panzerkommando forces stationed along the edges of Mexico City began to engage the formation of helicopters. One Huey took a few hits to its engine housing and began to belch thick black oil smoke and limp behind the other three. A few seconds later a rocket blew clean threw its passenger compartment and flipped the helicopter upside down. The pilot struggled for a moment to regain control but the engine cut out and it went top down at speed into the teeming shanty town passing beneath them.
"Thirty seconds!" The pilot shouted, his voice full of adrenaline as he swung the helicopter back and forth through the lazy arcs of tracers.
"Beginning approach!" The helicopter leveled out as he said it and began to descend.
In the brief moments of stability before disembarkation Captain Henry took the opportunity to return fire almost randomly at the dozens of muzzle flashes visible below. Then all he could see were the ornate tops of the Presidential Palace and the swarming mass of armored Nazi thugs in the huge plaza. There was a clang as the landing rails hit stone and Captain Henry launched himself out of the helicopter. An instant later the cockpit of the Huey was awash in high caliber projectiles that blasted the pilot and his copilot into chunks of meat. The SWAT officer was clipped in the arm on his way out, but the others seemed to arrive in the plaza unscathed.
That was unlikely to last. A quick survey told Captain Henry that they were taking intense fire from every possible direction and only one of their backup helicopters had made it in. The National Guardsmen piled out and rushed towards Captain Henry like iron filings heading for a powerful magnet. Half of them were cut down on their way across the plaza.
"Sergeant Baker, try to suppress in the direction of the East Wing. Over there. We'll go for it and then cover your approach."
The Sergeant nodded and waved the terrified National Guardsmen to open fire. Their light machinegun and assault rifles could barely be heard over the constant roar of high-caliber fire coming from all around them.
"Let's rock and roll!" Captain Henry charged straight into the hornet's nest, seemingly oblivious to the bullets whizzing inches away from his head.
As he ran he fired both assault rifles on full auto and thought about the flag of the United States of America.
Sir Mix-a-Lot's classic follow up to "Baby Got Back" has serious unintended consequences.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
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