I was a general in South America

Twenty kilometers east of Manizales, the terrain gradually rises into the forest.

As the vehicles gradually became unable to proceed, the filming crew's large convoy had to stop on a relatively open flat area, where thick fog obscured the view of what was happening inside.

"Get off the bus and tell everyone to prepare to walk into the mountains."

Lucas gave instructions to Moreno in the driver's seat, then turned around, opened the car door, jumped out, and walked to the car where Hoffman and the others were riding, gently knocking on the window.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

Hoffman rolled down the car window and asked, while a photographer was filming with a handheld camera next to him.

"Mr. Hoffman, the road ahead is impassable for the convoy. Please pack your things; we may need to hike into the mountains."

Lucas raised his hand and glanced at the time.

"It's 8:15 now, you only have fifteen minutes."

The Columbia Forest typically begins to darken around 3 p.m., and considering that the filming crew had not received professional military training, it was necessary to allow sufficient time to deal with unexpected situations.

The operation time cannot be calculated as a full 7 hours.

With at least 4-5 hours of shooting time, whether Hoffman could obtain useful material was not within his consideration.

Soon, the filming crew was ready, but then Blake found Lucas.

"To ensure Mr. Hoffman's safety, my entire force needs to go into the mountains."

To his surprise, Lucas ignored him completely and proceeded to inspect his weapons and equipment.

Suppressing his anger, Blake remembered Hoffman's instructions and continued to explain, "My squad is skilled in mountain warfare."

Lucas kept his head down, loading the bullets one by one into the spare magazine without even lifting his eyelids.

"and then?"

"Then, my two teams are elite, and they shouldn't be tasked with protecting the vehicles; it's a serious waste."

Given Hoffman's reputation, the 14 men Black brought along wouldn't be weak...

But so what...?

Lucas glanced at him, but didn't stop what he was doing: "Do you talk to your superiors like this in the army? Am I the commander-in-chief of this joint operation?"

"you....!"

Blake silently chanted "God, please forgive me" in his mind at high speed.

asshole..

Offal...

Fuck you XX

If anger in one's eyes could kill, Lucas would already be a pile of minced meat.

Two gazes met in the air, one filled with shame and indignation, the other with a quiet, unwavering gaze.

Half a minute later, Blake turned his head away, stiffened his neck, and said, "Lieutenant Lucas, my unit wishes to participate in combat missions!"

"Soldier, speak louder! Didn't you eat breakfast today?"

Lucas wasn't going to be polite. If he didn't handle the other party's show of force at the camp, he might be the one being treated like a dog and disciplined.

Ah...ah...ah..!

I'm going to kill him...!

"Lieutenant Lucas, my unit wants to fight alongside you."

Satisfied, Lucas smiled and patted Blake on the shoulder, as if admiring a capable officer: "Leave one team behind, and the other team will be responsible for close protection of Mr. Hoffman."

Hoffman and Diana, who were standing not far away, clearly heard Blake's voice, especially after seeing that scene.

As expected of the documentary protagonist I chose, she won over Blake so quickly.

As expected of a man I'm curious about; he managed to get American officers to willingly follow orders so quickly.

The filming crew consisted of 6 people, the rapid reaction force of 20 soldiers, plus the 7-man Brighton team, and including Lucas and Moreno, they formed a formal team of 35 people.

Ten members of the rapid reaction force were responsible for the rearguard, while the U.S. military personnel were in the middle to ensure Hoffman's safety, and the remaining ten were responsible for leading the way.

The Cloud Forest is mainly composed of oak and wax palm trees, especially the wax palm, which is known as the "national tree" of Colombia and can grow to a height of 60 meters.

The abundant rains of the rainy season bring vigorous vitality and make the bushes in the forest very lush. The soldiers at the front are clearing the road with machetes.

The good news is that the sunlight has significantly reduced the fog, greatly improving visibility in the forest.

The troops continued to advance along the cleared mountain road.

"Lucas, this is how you usually determine the location of drug manufacturing plants, or how you search for drug dealers."

Hoffman also carried a camera and asked questions as he walked around.

"The most primitive methods, such as net-searching the mountains, helicopter reconnaissance, and other high-tech methods, are all too insignificant for it."

Lucas said, looking up at the forest covered by green leaves.

"However, although the methods are old-fashioned, there are still some experiences, such as finding water sources. Drug traffickers moved their factories into the forest to avoid being tracked down. They even lived the most primitive life in the forest to shield themselves from electronic signals brought by high technology."

"But drug production cannot be separated from water, and life cannot be separated from water. The possibility of finding a drug production factory in an area with water sources increases greatly."

"But drug cartels aren't stupid. If they do it too many times, they'll set up traps and outposts, and even break up their drug manufacturing plants into a dozen or so of different sizes, using manpower to transport supplies to prevent surprise attacks."

"Therefore, the fight between the military and drug cartels is difficult. It is hard for the troops to play an advantage here, while those drug traffickers are like rats hiding in the gutter, dirty and hard to catch."

He patiently answered all of Hoffman's questions, and cooperating with the documentary filming was also an order from the military.

Saying a few more words about non-confidential content can help improve one's image after the documentary airs.

"Your hard work should not be buried, but should be seen by more people. This is the harm caused by drug traffickers, and it is also my original intention to make this documentary."

Hoffman moved the camera around, capturing the scene of soldiers clearing the way ahead.

"Lieutenant Lucas's rapid reaction force not only has to deal with drug traffickers in the forest, but also has to carry out more brutal anti-drug missions. In the city of Manizales, there are only fifty soldiers in the rapid reaction force."

"Lieutenant Lucas's daily work involves leading a force of fifty men in a life-or-death struggle against thousands of drug traffickers in Colombia. What we see today is just the tip of the iceberg."

See that? The director's ability to elevate a star is truly professional.

Is there anything wrong with what you said?

Lieutenant Lucas works diligently every day to combat drug dealers, teetering on the brink of death countless times, all for the sake of the justice in his heart...!

Suddenly, the troops ahead stopped, and a woodland covered with reddish-brown oval berries appeared before them.

Manisales cherry...?

He parted the group and led Hoffman forward. Suddenly, the dense forest ahead opened up, revealing a magnificent landscape.

The forest cascades down the mountainside, turning into a dark green ocean under the midday sun.

From the location of the troops, the ridgeline descends gently to the left. Moving the gaze downwards, two streams converge at the bottom of the valley a few dozen meters away, forming a brown river.

The trees on both sides of the riverbank lean towards the river, their canopies almost completely obscuring the waterway.

"My God! It's so beautiful, a masterpiece!"

"A truly rare and beautiful sight!"

Hoffman and the rest of the film crew were all amazed when they saw the painting.

Magnificent natural scenery.

It must be said that the land of South America truly deserves to be called God's masterpiece.

Perhaps because it has been blessed with too much beauty, the people of this land have had to endure even more suffering.

"Mr. Hoffman, this way."

Lucas pointed to a barely noticeable path about three meters to his side.

"Although some traces have been covered up, the extent of trampling on the trees on the ground doesn't seem to be caused by animals."

An hour later, the troops continued down the path, where the sunlight began to diminish.

It wasn't because of time, but because the canopy of the trees overhead had closed up.

The branches and leaves of the Andean oak trees weave a dark green dome at a height of thirty meters.

The sunlight was cut into scattered beams, slanting into the undergrowth and falling on the moss on the ground.

Temperature drops, humidity rises.

Everyone started wiping away sweat.

Professional soldiers like Lucas and Black adapted relatively well.

But Hoffman, along with the rest of the filming crew, could feel the moisture entering his lungs through his nasal cavity with every breath.

The sweat couldn't evaporate and flowed down his back, accumulating in a wet ring around the belt around his waist.

The sweat on my face wasn't sweat; it was a thin film formed by the moisture from the surrounding environment condensing.

Especially for Diana, the only woman in the group, even after changing into more comfortable clothes, every step forward felt like torture.

However, she did not complain or ask for help simply because she was a woman.

She just clenched her teeth and tried her best to keep up with Lucas.

There are no roads on the ground, only slopes.

Beneath your feet lies a thick layer of fallen leaves, below which lies aged humus, and below that, a tangled mass of tree roots.

Stepping on it feels like stepping on a spring mat; with each step, you sink two centimeters, and when you lift your foot, it makes a slight "plop" sound.

The tree roots were covered with dark green moss, making them slippery when stepped on.

"God, walking around here is like walking through a swamp, no, it's like walking through a swamp in a 40-degree sauna, and someone is covering your mouth so you can't breathe."

Hoffman leaned against the tree trunk with one hand, seemingly complaining yet also explaining to the camera.

They formed a long line in the forest, about thirty meters apart.

It wasn't that the vegetation was too dense, but rather that the light was too limited. At 10 a.m., visibility at the bottom of the valley was less than 20 meters.

You might encounter a giant tree that has fallen at any moment, lying across your path. Ferns grow on its bark, their leaves trembling slightly in the still air.

It might take ten minutes or longer to go around it.

After scaling the giant tree, Lucas, seeing the grim expressions on the faces of the film crew members, had no choice but to give the order.

"Rest in place for fifteen minutes."

Upon hearing this, no one cheered; Hoffman simply gave him a wry smile.

They knew they were the ones who had delayed the progress.

The soldiers stood against the trees, rifles hanging on their chests, and unscrewed their canteens to replenish their water.

In the forest, the only sounds besides birdsong were heavy breathing.

Fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye.

Soon, the troops walked along the path for another twenty minutes and finally reached the bottom of the valley.

Suddenly, a soldier in front made a gesture, which Lucas knew meant that traces of human activity had been discovered.

He quickly separated the ranks and rushed to the front to observe the traces the soldiers had discovered.

Lucas explained, “It wasn’t until Hoffman caught up and set up the camera that things got interesting.”

"Three pairs of footprints, extending upstream, with clear edges and no water seepage, must have been left last night or this morning."

"Could this have been left by drug dealers when they were fetching water from the river?"

Hoffman wiped the sweat from his face, his eyes filled with excitement.

I came to Manizales for this moment.

If we can capture the most authentic footage of rapid reaction forces encountering drug traffickers.

That documentary will be the greatest work of his career.

Lucas reached out and touched the mud and sand on the footprints, stating his judgment.

"Judging from the pattern on the sole, it's not a military boot; it looks more like a rubber-soled athletic shoe."

"The Kakao Valley forest is not located in the mining area. Due to the rampant drug trafficking, most of the mountain people have moved away. There is a high probability that they were left behind by drug traffickers."

Lucas crouched down and gently brushed away the fallen leaves beside the footprints with a twig.

Sure enough, there were cigarette butts lying in the mud below.

He was unpretentious even under the camera's gaze, digging the cigarette butt out of the mud.

Then, I cleaned the dirt off the surface with my hand, and a line of small print appeared on the filter.

Lucas placed the cleaned-up cigarette butts under the camera.

"The brand is Piedta, the cheapest tobacco in Colombia, but even the cheapest cigarettes aren't a staple for mountain dwellers."

He stood up and glanced upstream.

The river narrows here, and tree roots on both sides extend from the bank, like a dark opening.

"We continued advancing there, notifying everyone to load their weapons and to fire directly at any suspicious locations."

The troops continued to advance upstream.

Another hour later, the edge of the forest suddenly appeared 300 meters ahead.

It's not the end of the forest, but the end of the terrain.

A clearing that had clearly been cleared out came into view, with several sheds built from tree trunks.

It was rudimentary and undecorated, looking like an abandoned camp from a distance.

Even from more than ten meters away, Lucas's nose twitched slightly twice.

That's right!

This is the taste of Colombia!

The smell of rotten, fermented coca leaves is as nauseating as smelly socks that haven't been washed for months.

"You few check the surrounding area and keep watch. The rest of you, come with me."

Seeing Lucas's signal, Moreno immediately ordered his soldiers to enter the camp for a search.

"Lucas, is this the drug cartel's camp?"

Hoffman watched the soldiers' retreating figures, eager to try his luck!

If Lucas hadn't been silent yet, he would have already grabbed his camera and followed them.

"It's very likely an abandoned camp of drug traffickers. The smell of coca is very strong, so it may have been abandoned not long ago."

Upon hearing Lucas's clear answer, Hoffman quickly explained.

"Lieutenant Lucas said that this is very likely a factory that the drug traffickers abandoned not long ago, and perhaps we can find some surprises inside."

The soldiers spread out with guns around the camp, and about five minutes later...

Moreno then shouted to the main force, "Lieutenant, it's safe for now, you can proceed!"

"We will soon see the most important discovery of the day."