Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 157 Tapachula Unrestricted Fighting Tournament

Milton looked at the eagerness in the eyes of the few dozen people and paused for a moment—this scene looked so familiar.
It's already 1994, and the events of 1980 that happened in South Korea are still fresh in my mind...

Seeing that Milton didn't say anything, the newly recruited soldiers became a little anxious.

“‘Kind Father’ sir, we can solve your problem. Just leave it to us.”

It wasn't just because of the generous "combat nutrition allowance," but also because as a new recruit, he needed to do something to prove his worth.

You only officially get on board after you've actually taken out a few of the enemy's men... at least that's how it is in the underworld.

However, the deputy director who followed him in had a worried look on his face: "'Mr. 'benevolent father,' um... are you planning to use violence to suppress them directly?"

Milton hesitated for a moment, then turned to the deputy director and asked, "These people clearly have ill intentions, and suppression is definitely necessary. Do you see any potential problems?"

“If it were a small place, perhaps no one would care and suppress it because of the lack of information,” the deputy director said with a wry smile. “But Tapachula is a city of a certain size, and the drug traffickers certainly haven’t forgotten to invite the media… Suppressing a protest could shake the foundations of a regime anywhere. If you insist on suppressing it, it could easily lead to big problems.”

Even though everyone knows they were hired by drug dealers and not real civilians.

"To put it bluntly, there might be a CIA agent hiding in some corner, monitoring this place. The rampant drug problem may be directly related to these scumbags."

So, be careful.

Milton glanced at the crowd that was gradually gathering outside and remained as calm as possible: "They have media, and so do I."

"Moreover, most media attention is still focused on Central Park—the police chief being assassinated by a reporter during an interview is definitely big news."

"According to the general idea, a march is a gradual process of gathering together and gradually developing from a demonstration into a riot. Based on past experience, this process can take anywhere from a few hours to several days or even more than ten days."

"Before a 'protest' turns into a 'riot,' the police generally only maintain a state of alert, at most dispersing people, and will not escalate to confrontation. This is a consensus."

Everyone else present nodded.

During protests and demonstrations, the authorities are always the ones who react "passively," and regardless of whether this reaction is violent or not, they rarely take the initiative.

Milton continued, "Judging from the current trend outside, I think the media controlled by the mayor wants to stir things up with the bureau chief first, and then send people over after the situation here has fermented enough."

Brandon understood what Milton meant: "So, you plan to take the initiative and suppress it before the 'protest' develops into a 'riot'?"

Flora, who had been a little sleepy, was now wide awake. She pointed out a crucial issue: "I'm not kidding, but you could really end up in a military court like this."

“I’m not stupid.” Milton shook his head. “This is where our control of the media comes in.”

Flora was a little excited: "What are you planning to do?"

“It’s simple.” Milton slammed his fist on the table. “Find a few actors, blend into the crowd of protesters… and then have them shoot at the police.”

"The drug dealers want to escalate things, right? Then I'll go along with them and take things to the extreme! Of course, I need to find someone with good marksmanship, and the bullets must hit the body armor, otherwise it'll really turn into infighting."

"Get them some explosives that produce a lot of smoke and make a loud noise, but have no power, and make them look like they bombed the police station."

The deputy director was dumbfounded: "So, you're going to turn this march into a rebellion? Well, that's fine... but it's a bit ruthless."

“Not only that.” Milton shook his head. “That’s too low-level. If you’re going to set a trap, then set a multi-layered trap.”

“Not only will I frame them for launching a rebellion, but I will also blow up the television station controlled by the mayor, and then use my television station to release the footage of this ‘rebellion’… I will frame the drug traffickers, saying that they not only planned this rebellion, but also blew up the television station in an attempt to block the news. Fortunately, a reporter from an international television station escaped unscathed, brought the footage back, and made it public, exposing the drug traffickers’ atrocities.”

"Play with me, I'll crush them."

"I'm an expert at spreading fake news."

The others chewed on the information in Milton's plan with strange expressions—Milton really was ruthless.

In the past, the official methods and approaches were generally quite upright and aboveboard.

Such a situation of fighting evil with evil and violence with violence is truly rare.

Milton clapped his hands: "Don't just stand there, hurry up and get ready... If you can, grab a few tomatoes, act more convincingly, and don't give yourself away."

After saying that, Milton looked at Flora and gave another order.

“‘Bottle,’ notify our airport to have my Dragonfly carry two MK 83 aerial bombs and raze that female reporter’s TV station to the ground… Evacuate as many nearby civilians as possible before bombing, but there’s nothing we can do if they don’t listen.”

Upon hearing the model number, the others showed little reaction—because they couldn't understand it.

But Flora almost jumped up: "'Tax collector,' are you sure?! That thing is a 1000-pound (about 450 kg) aerial bomb, and two of them! Do you know what that means?"

Once it was fired, without exaggeration, a small building was gone.

The kill radius is about the size of a football field, and the absolute lethal radius is smaller, but it can still cover half a football field.

It is already considered a tactical-level destructive weapon.

Throw them directly into the city center?!

"That was a terrorist attack orchestrated by drug traffickers to suppress news of the rebellion. What does it have to do with me, Milton?" Milton shrugged. "It just shows how ruthless the drug traffickers are, and they should be wiped out with the strongest forces!"

Flora retorted, "Why don't you just drop the bombs right on the city hall?"

“If I could pinpoint the exact locations of the leaders and the mayor, and make sure there were no civilians around, I could certainly try to behead them,” Milton shrugged. “But the problem is, I can’t. And the TV station is different from the city government; it’s not an administrative unit, so the impact wouldn’t be as significant.”

Bombing a TV station and bombing a city government are completely different things.

If a TV station is blown up, so be it; if it's blamed on drug dealers, most people will just turn a blind eye... But if the entire government building is destroyed, that would be a huge problem.

At least with Milton's current strength, he cannot do something so outrageous.

Moreover, there's no point in bombing the government building. You can't just bomb all the politicians, officials, and civil servants who are committed to fighting drugs, can you? If the news gets out and everyone evacuates in advance, what's the point of bombing an empty building and giving the enemy a huge handle to use against you?
"That makes sense... I'll go make the arrangements then."

Milton nodded: "Hurry up, before the drug dealers can react."

Shortly after Milton devised the counterattack plan, Police Chief Omar, protected by armored vehicles, drove past the nearly organized marching crowd and returned to the police station.

After throwing the female reporter into the interrogation room, he went to Milton with a very grim expression.

"What's going on with those people outside?"

Milton sat in his chair and said slowly, "I believe you could have guessed this."

Omar clenched his fists angrily and cursed, "How much did the drug dealers pay these people? We're risking our lives for them, and they turn around and try to hold us back? For such a small amount of money... How stupid, how stupid!"

“You can’t expect everyone to be farsighted. They’re shortsighted because they can only see what’s in front of them,” Milton said calmly. “This is a problem that has been going on for years and can’t be solved in a short time.”

Moreover, many people with a conscience choose to remain silent at home.

They just didn't speak; it was just that the 10% of idiots made 90% of the noise.

"Then, what should we do... Damn it, can't they just shut up for a bit at this crucial moment?"

“It’s alright, I’ve already made plans.” Milton smiled and waved his hand, indicating that Omar didn’t need to be nervous. “Hurry up and have your men interrogate that reporter and make her tell you which TV station she works for.”

"Then, deploy as many officers as possible to charge with my men later."

Omar first breathed a sigh of relief, then expressed doubt about some of Milton's words: "So you're going to sanction that TV station... uh, what does it mean to send my men to join the attack later?"

"Of course, it's to suppress the rebellion together."

"Suppression of a rebellion?!"

A rebellion? What rebellion? Milton isn't referring to the protesters downstairs, is he?
“Yes, these people may have been misled by drug dealers, they may have some kind of hardship, they may simply be broke…” Milton said seriously, “but I share your view—no matter the reason, it is not an excuse for cannibalism.”

“This time, I can have people suppress us with sticks; but if they dare to resist, if there’s a next time, then don’t blame me for using bullets.”

Omar raised his hand: "Wait... that's not what I was asking. I meant, you're planning to just suppress them?!"

"Correct."

"Aren't you afraid of causing a huge mess...?"

“Brandon.” Milton beckoned Brandon in. The detailed “counter-insurgency” plan had been finalized not long ago. “Take our proposal to the Director for a look.”

Omar took the plan with a puzzled look and read it carefully.

His expression shifted once again from shock and confusion to calm.

After reading it, Omar returned the plan to Milton and said sincerely, "You are a very creative person. Indeed, if you want to deal with drug dealers, you still have to use some dirty tricks."

"I can cooperate with you!"

"However, I need to gather the officers first..."

Milton asked curiously, "Why have you gathered the officers together?"

"Give them the money—let them beat me up!"

"Today marks Tapachula's first-ever unrestricted all-people fighting tournament!"

Milton looked at the director, who was gradually being infected by his slang, and chuckled: "It may not be a fighting competition... it could be a marathon."

"However, there's no reward for winning, and a penalty for losing..."

……

More than ten minutes later, the entrance to the police station was bustling with noise.

Large groups of men and women dressed in tattered clothes gathered on the street near the police station, clutching the signs tightly in their hands.

The still-wet ink on the banners proclaiming "Democracy and Freedom," "Omar Step Down," and "Drive Out the Guatemalans" fluttered in the wind, glaringly obvious.

Many people even picked up various kinds of trash and threw them towards the police station.

"Step down!"

"You bombed our community! You deserve to die!!!"

"We have our own way of life, we have the right to choose our own way of life, and we reject any logic imposed on us by anyone else!"

"Freedom, freedom, freedom!"

"Get out!"

"Foreigners, you are not welcome here!"

"We don't need your self-righteous salvation!"

"Give me back my house! Give me back my family!"

"..."

At this moment, a smug expression appeared on the face of the drug dealer mingling in the crowd. "Very good, just like that... Let's see what the police can do." The drug dealer grinned maliciously, "In a few hours at most, this demonstration will turn into a riot. Will you suppress it or not then?"

“If we suppress them, the police station will be finished once the matter is exposed… Violent suppression of demonstrations and protests could even bring down the national government, let alone a mere police station.”

"If we don't suppress them... heh, then they can expect to be beaten into a frenzy by us in the chaos..."

Just then, a shrill, ghostly wail suddenly erupted from the crowd of demonstrators.

"Damn the police station! Damn Omar, damn Milton, they ruined my home and made me lose my job at Gulf Corporation!!!"

The drug dealers lurking nearby were shocked—whose idiot is this? Everyone knows many people work with drug dealers, but who openly admits it?!

That changes the nature of the situation!

"Damn it, this idiot has to be shut up."

However, before the drug dealers could find the person who had spoken out of turn, similar shouts began to rang out.

His words became increasingly extreme.

"Stepping down isn't enough, get rid of Omar!"

"Kill those officers!"

Blow up the police station!

"Kill everyone who opposes us! Kill everyone who stands by and watches! Kill everyone who doesn't help us! Kill everyone! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The drug dealers were shocked and hurriedly shouted, "It can't be that bad...it can't be that extreme!"

The next second, gunshots suddenly rang out from the crowd.

Boom boom boom!
A burst of bullets was fired at a police officer, hitting his "beer belly" and causing him to bleed profusely.

The police officer let out an exaggerated scream and then collapsed to the ground.

But the gunfire from the crowd had not stopped. People kept raising their guns and firing, and some even threw "bombs" in that direction. The sound was deafening, and several police officers fell to the ground.

For a moment, thanks to the officers' superb acting skills, the police station appeared to have suffered heavy losses.

"Ah—murder! Shooting!"

"Someone is dead! There's so much blood!"

"..."

The drug dealers were completely dumbfounded—what was going on? How did a gunfight suddenly break out?!

That's not the plan.

Suddenly, a dignified voice came from the direction of the police station.

"How dare you!!! The police respect your rights and allow you to march, but you have gone too far by openly shooting at the police and using explosives to bomb the police station!"

"All the footage has been captured, the evidence is conclusive. Your actions are no longer a demonstration, but murder! It's a rebellion!"

"Now, I order all police officers and all armed personnel with law enforcement authority to take up their weapons and quell the rebellion!"

"rush!"

"Not a single rebel shall be let go!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a large group of police officers and employees of Zhanfeng Company, who had been hiding somewhere, emerged. Each of them held a baton and carried a rifle on their back. They looked at the marching crowd with shining eyes, seemingly impatient.

Bulletproof vehicles and armored vehicles followed closely behind—the people sitting in them were all burly men wearing helmets and heavy armor.

The tattered clothes and thin physiques of the marching crowd formed a stark contrast.

They split into small teams and rushed towards the crowd!
Those who marched and demonstrated were just cowards who took money to do things and were greedy for small gains. They had never seen such a scene before, and they immediately screamed and turned to run away.

Several drug dealers ahead of them didn't have time to run away and were knocked down by the panicked crowd, falling to the ground.

Before he could even get up, several police officers surrounded him and rained blows on him with their batons!

"what……"

However, the drug dealer only made one shout and then stopped.

It wasn't because he was tough, but because the officers used six batons per second. The first baton hit the legs to prevent escape, the second hit the mouth to prevent begging for mercy, and the remaining four were left to their own devices.

"Slow down a bit. Mr. 'Kind Father' is watching from behind. What if he doesn't see us swinging the stick if we hit too fast?"

"Oh, okay, okay!"

Crackling!

The protesters were quickly dispersed by the menacing police officers. There were some vicious individuals who tried to fight back, but their weapons were like scratches against the heavy armor, while the police officers inflicted real damage.

There's no way around it; it's an unrestricted fighting tournament after all.

Why don't drug dealers have such good equipment as police officers? They should reflect on their own behavior.

"what--"

"what!!"

Despite wearing over ten kilograms of gear, the police officers ran at an astonishing speed. Before long, the tail end of the fleeing group was caught, knocked down, and brutally beaten on the ground.

This fully illustrates the meaning of "backwardness invites aggression".

Snapped!
The entire street was instantly filled with the stench of blood.

Don't be fooled by the fact that a police baton is small and doesn't seem very powerful... When swung at full speed at a human body, it will leave a bloody mark, the kind that will bleed!

Those who didn't resist much, whose clothes were tattered, and who were just following the procession, were usually given a dozen or so blows and then let go, leaving them to cry and wail on the ground.

Those who led the procession were not so lucky—leading the march meant bringing up the rear in the fleeing crowd.

For those in charge, the police officers and specially invited law enforcement personnel adhere to one principle.

Beat them until they're breathless.

Because this is definitely a drug dealer.

"Beat them! Beat them to death!"

"There's a fleeing group over there, go after them!"

"Tony headed that way. There were only three of them, chasing seven or eight people. They might be in danger. Send a small team to support them immediately! Keep communications open!"

"Those people ahead have run so far, should we still chase them?"

Crackling and popping...

Many police officers hesitated as they looked at the fleeing people in the distance after they had subdued the people in their hands.

In fact, given how things have progressed, the suppression can already be considered a success.

But this hesitation did not last long.

It wasn't just that these police officers had the courage to fight drug dealers to the end, even when they were at a severe disadvantage and their families' lives were threatened, but also because of the thick stack of envelopes they received before they left.

"We retreated after only taking down a few people. How could we face our 'benevolent father,' the director, who was still watching us from behind?"

"Get in the car, let's chase!"

"Run! Let's see if they can outrun four wheels on two legs!"

Several armored vehicles, filled with police officers, sped off in that direction.

At this moment, several "rebels" ran to the bus stop, hurriedly opened the doors, and rushed on board.

The bulletproof car immediately stopped the bus. Several police officers stood guard outside to prevent people from jumping out of the windows, while others rushed up through the two doors and pulled down the insurgents who were trying to escape by car.

The police mingled with the crowd.

One of the ringleaders was beaten to death in the street!
The others were in so much pain they couldn't even scream.

"Keep chasing! There are still people ahead! Someone has hidden in the park, find them!"

"A woman hiding in the men's restroom? How creative! Catch her and beat her!"

"That guy has a gun, he fired at us... Damn it! What are you standing there for? Didn't you see the machine gun on the armored vehicle? Kill that guy!"

"Fine, they dare to insult us? We must strike hard!"

"Wait... sir, that direction ahead looks like Tapachula TV station, doesn't it? I remember Mr. 'Father' and Mr. 'Director' saying that we are absolutely not allowed to go near that place?"

"Hmph..." The sheriff straightened his helmet. "They're lucky. Let's go over there and catch up with that group. Let's go."

……

A drug dealer fled in terror—he had been chased for who knows how many streets, and he had lost sight of the pistol hanging on his waist, as if he had run a marathon.

What's even more unfair is that his opponent can drive a car!
They even dared to chase people into the city and beat them up in the street!

"No, no... This isn't how it was planned. How did it turn out like this?"

The drug dealer, panting, walked to a building, looked around, and saw that apart from the people who had come with him, there were no more pursuers behind him.

"Slipped away? Where are we? Near the TV station? Why is there hardly anyone here?"

"Anyway, we're safe...that's great!"

"No, we need to go back immediately and report to the boss..."

hum! ! !
Suddenly, he heard the sound of a plane flying overhead.

The drug dealer saw a plane fly overhead, then suddenly pull up and disappear into the distance.

Snapped!
A streamlined bomb, about 2.6 meters long and with a half-meter-long conical tail fin, fell straight down from the sky and landed on the lawn less than 2 meters away from him.

This is... an aerial bomb!!!
boom!
The next instant, a mushroom cloud rose.

P.S.: Godfathers, please give me some monthly votes!
[Russia][Golden Finger][Modern City] tells the story of Zheng Zhi, who works illegally in Moscow in 2016, obtains the Daily Intelligence System, and eventually becomes an oligarch.

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(End of this chapter)