A 15-second pre-roll ad for laundry detergent played, a surreal interruption. Then, the screen went dark. A grainy image flickered to life. The logo of a Mexican distribution company from 1987 appeared, faded and hissing with magnetic tape static.

“There,” the old man pointed a gnarled finger. “That one. Operación Tormentad de Hielo. ”

“They’re retreating,” the lieutenant said in perfect, clear español latino . “Cover the left flank.”

“Mijo,” the old man said, his voice a low rumble like distant thunder. “Can you show me the tanks again? The ones from the frozen forest.”