Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 150 Anti-aircraft guns laid down...

Tapachula, Chiapas, Mexico.

This city, just steps away from Guatemala and where war has broken out nearby, has recently become virtually independent.

The municipal government simply cannot suppress the swarms of criminals, nor can it suppress the violent genes inherent in this land.

But the El Carmen neighborhood, which is now largely under the control of the Gulf Group, is unusually peaceful and quiet, with only occasional gunshots and explosions heard in the distance.

Yes, for a city where drug dealers and police are locked in a fierce battle, this is indeed considered peaceful.

At this time, the police station was clearly riddled with bullet holes.

The six DEA agents who had met Milton briefly at sea earlier sat in their office, their brows furrowed, discussing something with the local police precinct chief.

Accompanying this group was a Mexican federal police officer.

They are a fairly complete DEA team, including a team leader, operations agents, intelligence officers, tactical support, and forensic pathologists.

At this moment, the team leader angrily slammed his fist on the table and demanded, "Your mayor has completely compromised with the drug dealers?! Now you want to kick us out? Do you remember what you told me before?"

"You are a local official, how can you be so untrustworthy?"

The police station chief shrugged helplessly: "Sorry, sir, that's the mayor's order. You are foreigners after all."

"Where is your police chief?!"

"He's away on a business trip. Anyway, we can't find him now, so I have to make the decision." The police station chief looked indifferent. "Sir, I have no choice. You should leave."

The DEA operations team leader's eyelids twitched: "So, you just watched these drug dealers from outside commit crimes and murders in your area, watched them ruin the local economy, watched a city that was originally quite safe turn into a living hell? Do you deserve the national emblem you wear?"

“Of course I can’t stand by and watch, otherwise I wouldn’t have cooperated with you in the first place,” the police station chief said seriously. “But as you can see, the Gulf Group has completely taken control of this area. That new junior leader is incredibly powerful, I don’t know his background. If I continue to be so tough, I won’t even be able to command my men.”

Any police officer who dares to oppose drug dealers will face the most severe retaliation.

Including his family.

The police force now has very little influence in this community; it has almost been completely defeated.

The police station chief said helplessly, "We can't continue this fight."

"No wonder you can never fight drug dealers," the team leader said coldly, "because of your cowardice."

"..."

This sarcastic remark immediately made the already tense atmosphere even more strained.

The police precinct chief's face immediately darkened: "American, of course you can say these things here, because your family is in America! My family has been threatened, understand?!"

"After you take out the drug dealers, you can get on a plane and leave. No matter what revenge plans they have, they will never be able to find the United States to retaliate against you."

"And what about us? We live on this land, what can we do? Drug traffickers have long been rooted here, they have long been a part of Mexico!"

"Oh, we have to thank you Americans for this, thank you CIA. The US deserves a lot of credit, even the most credit, for how we've fallen to this state. If it weren't for your meddling, would there be so many cesspool countries in the world?!"

"How many police officers, how many police chiefs, how many mayors, even former governors whose entire families were targeted by drug dealers after their retirement? At that time, would I have seen you, or your DEA colleagues, here?"

"If you can't, please respect us and leave quietly."

One of the female agents couldn't hold back any longer: "We're fighting for you with our lives. Some of our colleagues have sacrificed their lives on your land. Is this how you talk to us?"

Besides, why should they be blamed for the mess the CIA made?
"Winnie, forget it." The DEA team leader waved his hand and stood up. "Let's go."

"But……"

This city is an important trading hub with Guatemala, and it also has a port. If it falls and becomes drug traffickers' territory, our work will become increasingly difficult.

As long as these key nodes are taken down, there will be an endless stream of drug traffickers to kill.

However, before Winnie could finish speaking, the sound of numerous car engines starting suddenly came from outside the police station.

Boom boom boom...

The noise grew louder and louder, clearly directed at the police station.

The branch chief even turned to look, but the Americans didn't even think twice; they instinctively found cover and all lay down.

boom!
The next second, flames and shockwaves tore through the window, burning the branch chief who was closest to it to a crisp!

Unfortunately, a DEA agent was hit directly in the head and neck and fell to the ground motionless.

Even those who hid behind cover were pushed out by the enormous force; some crashed into the wall, while others rolled several times on the ground.

Even with heavy bulletproof vests, the flying shrapnel injured all the survivors.

"Enemy attack! Retreat! Retreat and engage in CQB!" The DEA team leader struggled to his feet, crouched low, and evacuated the room near the window with his team members.

Winnie gritted her teeth and shouted, "Enemy attack! These crazy drug dealers are attacking! Everyone be careful, prepare for battle..."

Before he finished speaking, the noise from all the electrical appliances suddenly stopped.

power cut.

No, it should be said that the power was cut off.

"Watch out, there's a mole in the police station!!!"

The next second, intense gunshots and footsteps came from downstairs, accompanied by various screams.

Before long, with the help of the mole, the first floor of the police station was completely captured.

The remaining DEA agents, all wounded, were devastated.

A drug dealer's mocking voice came from downstairs: "Americans, Americans! I know you're up there... How about this, we don't want to go too far. Leave your weapons and equipment behind, surrender to us, and we'll spare your lives. Mr. O'Sir has a way to send you back to America, how about that?"

“Tapachula is finished… no, it’s already our paradise. You’re not welcome here. Listen to me, leave now.”

“You are not Qiqi, and we will not make a sound. We will die here quietly, and no one will avenge you.”

"Don't even think about running away. I'm telling you, there are more than 50 of us here. You can't escape."

"Three minutes, no, two minutes. I'll give you two minutes to think it over."

"Timing begins."

The team leader gripped the MP5 trigger tightly, remaining silent.

He glanced at the corpse of his comrade not far away, and sighed deeply: "How about this, let's uphold the spirit of democracy and cast a vote. No abstention is allowed. Nodding means fighting, shaking your head means surrendering."

With five people, they can always reach a decision.

"Before the vote, I must tell you that surrendering is a good option... After Mr. Kiki's sacrifice, the drug dealers became very wary of us. They wouldn't have killed us directly unless they were forced to."

"...Hehe, our guardian angel, even at a time like this, can save our lives."

"If we choose to fight... I guess one of us might escape? Probably."

"Now, the voting begins."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone nodded—including the captain himself.

They all chose to continue fighting.

"Hahaha... I didn't expect it to be this type of ticket."

Winnie shifted her gaze from her comrade's corpse and shrugged helplessly: "What can we do? Well, it's for democracy and freedom."

"Ha, ha! Well then, for democracy and freedom."

The team leader nodded, took out a grenade from his waist, and very slowly pulled the pin, forcing himself to calm down.

"We are willing to surrender."

"Very good." A triumphant laugh came from the drug dealer's side. "Put down your weapons and come out with your hands raised."

As soon as he finished speaking, all the members of the DEA team heard the drug dealers begin to retreat, and the chaotic footsteps stopped at the door.

The team leader estimated the trajectory of the bullet, slowly moved to the window, and threw the M61 defensive grenade out the window.

"Holy crap, a grenade..."

boom!
As soon as the explosion occurred, the remaining four team members rushed downstairs in the most standard indoor cleanup formation.

Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!
Gunfire rang out.

……

Boom boom boom...

A small convoy consisting of an infantry fighting vehicle, a self-propelled anti-aircraft gun, and several manure trucks is heading towards Mexico.

Milton stroked the gun in his hand and said, "Tapachula is very close to my base. Don't worry, even if we are besieged, I can still deliver supplies by airdrop."

“Air combat units can be deployed in as little as half an hour and can loiter in the Tapachula airspace for 5 hours, ready to be deployed at any time. They can call in a round of machine gun fire or even aerial bombs in 10 seconds.”

"Ground support can arrive within 5 hours... The drug traffickers are fighting on our home turf, so don't worry."

Omar sighed and shook his head: "It's not that. I trust your armed forces. I'm just worried that something might happen in the city while I'm gone."

“If something goes wrong, we can just fight the whole city again,” Milton said nonchalantly. “These three drug cartels will fight amongst themselves, so there’s no need to worry.”

"Well, actually it's because this infantry fighting vehicle is much more uncomfortable than I imagined, uh...

"Isn't that obvious? This is a weapon, not a car."

Flora abruptly interrupted the conversation, asking listlessly, "Can I take an advance on next month's vacation? I don't want to go blow up poop with you..."

"No."

"Sigh, sigh." "..."

Soon, the convoy arrived at the police station. The group parked their cars, and before they even got out, they noticed some surprised looks from the police officers.

The bureau chief didn't show up for a whole day; did he go to call for reinforcements?
And they actually managed to get him some pretty good-looking equipment?!
Some officers were overjoyed, some had more complicated emotions on their faces, and others showed surprise and doubt.

Milton frowned and said, "Your men are heavily infiltrated."

“There’s nothing I can do… Some people are worried about their family and friends, while others have been directly bribed,” Omar said with a wry smile. “Do you think I’m richer than drug dealers?”

“I can understand the fence-sitters. After all, their family members’ lives are in the hands of others. These are the people who can be united and won over,” Milton said. “But the other group, those who have taken money from drug dealers, must be eradicated. Not a single one can be left alive.”

“The problem is I don’t know who has been bribed by drug dealers…” Omar sighed. “I can only confirm that the people around me are trustworthy for now.”

“I have a way to screen them.” Milton glanced at his panel. “All officers, come to me. I need to assign them tasks and provide me with information on drug dealers.”

The identification method is simple—those identified as teammates by the panel are police officers who are committed to fighting drugs; those who come over enthusiastically but are not identified as allies are definitely corrupt police officers.

As for those who have a negative attitude, neither opposing nor supporting, they are probably the centrists who want to crack down on drugs but have many concerns.

This screening method may result in a small number of inaccuracies—for example, classifying corrupt police officers as centrists, or vice versa.

But at least one thing is certain: it can filter out friendly teams.

Eliminate all the corrupt police officers and marginalize the centrists, so that the mole can no longer threaten the core of the police force.

"You think you can filter out friends like this?"

“That’s right,” Milton casually lied, “I have a lie detector.”

Omar suddenly realized: "I understand! Okay, I'll assign the task right away... By the way, where do you plan to open your company?"

Milton glanced at Flora, the "big boss," who was staring at the manure trucks with despair in her eyes, and made the decision himself: "Let's drive them inside your police station building for now. Anyway, a wave of corrupt cops will be cleared out later, which will definitely free up a lot of space."

"Once we've taken over the next few cities, I'll buy office buildings."

“Okay…” Omar frowned as soon as he said that. “‘Hell Tax Collector,’ I have a question. After you’ve identified the corrupt police officers, what are your plans to do with them?”

Milton jumped out of the armored vehicle, glanced at the police officers, and said, "To avoid alerting them, I will make the arrests after testing everyone."

Omar paused for a moment, then shook his head and said, "No... I mean, what do you plan to do with these corrupt cops?"

"What else can we do?" Milton looked at Omar in astonishment. "Sweep them with machine guns... Uh, do you think that's not efficient enough and want to tie them together and bomb them with aerial bombs? Isn't that a bit inhumane?"

Omar was completely dumbfounded: "Huh?! You're planning to execute them all?"

“Otherwise?” Milton was even more astonished. “Instead of executing them quickly, are you planning to send them to a court controlled by drug dealers, or to disperse them on the spot and let them pick up guns and fight us?”

"Won't this... have a negative impact?"

Milton was amused by Omar's civilian-minded thinking: "I'm a warlord, a warlord! I can do whatever I want, I don't care about the consequences."

This bureau chief is still thinking of following the proper procedures.

“Okay, alright.” Although Omar felt a little awkward, he was, after all, someone who had fought a gunfight with drug dealers. After thinking for a moment, he agreed to Milton’s suggestion. “Shall we start now? Should I go and call back the officers who are still on patrol?”

"Let's begin. 'Bottle,' you watch the armored vehicle. If anything seems amiss, fire immediately. I brought the anti-aircraft gun here, not for anti-aircraft defense, understand?"

Flora nodded: "Understood."

Soon, Milton and Omar entered the police station and went to the chief's office.

Omar skillfully turned on the broadcast system.

"All officers, assemble on the second floor. I have found new allies to join our great anti-drug cause. As you can see, they are very powerful; they have powerful armored vehicles and firepower."

“Now, in my capacity as police chief, I officially grant them temporary law enforcement powers—until all drug dealers are driven out of this city!”

"He's waiting for you all on the third floor. I'll have all the officers divided into four groups of four. Go see Milton and he'll assign you tasks."

Milton, so that guy who got out of the armored vehicle and seemed to be on par with, or even a little higher than, the director was named Milton.

Many police officers even felt that the name sounded familiar.

“Milton, I remember there was a madman named Milton next door to us?”

"You mean that 'Hell Tax Collector'?! Holy crap?!"

"'Hell Tax Collector'? What a boastful tone. Who is he?"

"It seems that he was the one who took down Van Kangbang, causing the Sinaloa Group to lose what it had in its grasp. I heard that Guzman was so angry that he couldn't sleep for three nights."

"That powerful? Isn't he afraid of dying...?"

"The bureau chief actually went to see him?"

“‘Hellish tax collector’… Ha.”

Milton was completely numb to the nickname. He and Brandon went up to the third floor to screen the police officers.

Brandon, also a police chief, sat up straight: "Hey boss, where's your lie detector?"

"You believed that?!"

"Uh, okay... so, how do I screen for it?"

“Just take a look, that’s called psychology.” Milton continued to make things up casually. “You can tell a lot from what they say, their facial expressions, and their body language.”

"Wow, that's amazing! This is what it means to be educated! My two children are already in school. I wonder if they'll be as successful as you someday?"

"Enough with the nonsense." Milton waved his hand. "The first group of officers is coming in."

"..."

Ten seconds later, the first group of four police officers walked in. Their expressions varied, ranging from excitement to disdain to numbness.

Milton's task was simple—to adopt a humble attitude, randomly select a few streets, and have them thoroughly investigate the drug dealers there.

And tell them that this is not mandatory.

The interviews were very easy and quick, and Milton had screened several groups of officers in no time.

After screening another group, Brandon asked in a low voice, "Boss, how's it going? Did you find the mole?"

Milton stared at the data on the panel for a long time before finally saying, "You should ask if they've found someone who isn't the mole."

Goodness, after screening 12 people, only 3 were identified as teammates by the panel!
Of course, there are many "centrists" among them, but there are also a lot of corrupt police officers. It is no exaggeration to say that they have been deeply corrupted and infiltrated.

"Is it really that scary?! Only three?! What should we do? Should I transfer some more police officers from our side? Our area has good public security, so a few fewer officers won't be a problem."

Brandon, seeing Milton's grave expression, was deeply concerned about the severity of the situation.

Milton's expression was also very serious: "Now I'm afraid of getting a nickname even worse than 'Hell Tax Collector'."

"what?!"

Milton's expression grew even more serious: "I'm afraid of being nicknamed 'benevolent father'... It seems this purge is unavoidable."

Yes, that's the only thing Milton is worried about.

As for the large number of corrupt police officers?
If there's one corrupt cop, kill one; if there are two, kill two; if there are ten, kill ten; if there are half, kill half; if there are all of them, kill them all!

I'm a warlord, who's afraid of who?
These days, there are so many people scrambling for jobs that allow you to make a living, who's afraid of who? At worst, we can just do what Brandon said and bring in police officers from our own small town.

Soon, a list appeared in Milton and Omar's hands.

Even the police chief, even knowing that the police station had been corrupted by drug dealers, trembled upon seeing the list.

"Less than a quarter of the people are reliable?! That makes sense, considering there are three drug cartels involved; they aren't necessarily friends with each other."

"Johnson... he's someone I trust a lot, a high-ranking officer in the police department, and he's a corrupt cop? Are you sure?"

Milton nodded with absolute certainty, "I'm sure."

Omar immediately frowned and said, "What can we do? There are so many people... Even if we remove the centrists, the number of corrupt cops is already close to half."

“Didn’t I tell you before?” Milton tapped the table. “Just kill him.”

"But, this, this has half of the people..."

"Does that mean they're immune to bullets once there are more of them?" Milton frowned. "They have that kind of special ability? Then I'll just switch to other shells."

Omar: "..."

“Alright, get them assembled.” Milton waved his hand. “I’ve got my armored vehicles ready. The machine guns and anti-aircraft guns will be quick to fire. Don’t worry, there won’t be any humanitarian crisis.”

Sweeping through crowds with anti-aircraft guns—just thinking about it is exhilarating.

"Fine, you're a warlord, you can do whatever you want."

Milton pointed in a direction: "By the way, I've been hearing gunfire over there since the beginning. Has it been like this all the time on your end?"

“Yes… that’s the community controlled by the Gulf Group, the one you need to take out first.” Omar nodded subconsciously, then frowned. “Hmm, the gunfire is definitely more intense today. And there’s even machine gun fire. Should we go check it out later?”

"Alright, let's take care of these corrupt cops and then go check it out."

Soon, the corrupt police officers were gathered together on the playground below the police station. Although they found it strange, they didn't think much of it when they saw a very pretty female reporter setting up a camera next to them.

"What is this for?"

"Who knows..."

"It's probably that idiot Omar who thought he could do something with just two flimsy armored vehicles, haha..."

Suddenly, the self-propelled anti-aircraft guns in the distance opened fire without warning.

Self-propelled anti-aircraft guns opened fire directly on the crowd!
Boom boom boom boom!
(End of this chapter)