Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 164 Even if you hide in the sky, you'll still be taxed.
Juárez, Chihuahua, Mexico.

On the plane, through the glass, Milton could even see Texas, the United States, across the Rio Grande.

“America is just across the street.” Milton tapped on the glass. “Tsk tsk.”

Texas was already the second-largest economy in the United States in 1994—and it is also a major hotspot for border issues.

“The headquarters of the Juarez Group, huh?” Flora, sitting behind Milton, leaned in and said, “We’re going to hijack a plane tonight!”

"Keep your voice down..."

After the plane landed, the five people, including the locksmith, left the airport and got into a van before continuing their discussion.

"There are many informants among the drug dealers in the area, so we must not make our movements too conspicuous."

"By the way, where are our weapons and equipment stored?"

This time, all five of them were dressed in casual clothes, looking like tourists, and the equipment was said to be provided by Milton's contact person.

“Remember when we fought Raul, and he surrendered, leaving us all of Van Conn’s ‘inheritance’?” Milton asked from the passenger seat. “His house was in that inheritance. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t.”

Although the house cannot be transferred at all, Milton can still use it as long as he continues to pay property taxes after Raul's death—no one else knows that Raul is dead.

"Raul's luxury apartment?" Flora asked with anticipation. "That sounds good. I've only heard of it; I've never actually seen the mansions owned by these drug cartels. I've heard they're full of luxury goods?"

"Are you sure this house is safe?"

As long as the panel allows you to store weapons there, it means it's still safe.

Milton said, "First of all, Raul was an agent of the Sinaloa Group, so it's unlikely that the Juarez Group would know about this place... Secondly, Raul bought the house himself, and he most likely wouldn't tell anyone else. His death was so sudden, how could he have had the opportunity to leak information?"

"Wow... I never expected that the benefits of taking down the Fan Kang gang would last until now."

"..."

Soon, the van arrived at the luxury apartment building.

On the road, Milton even witnessed a drug dealer raid on local police officers, and the gunfight was incredibly intense!
Everyone around them was used to it.

This is the surreal reality of Latin America—police officers and drug dealers fight in the streets, while tourists and civilians go about their business, and unless they're unlucky enough to be hit by a stray bullet, it has nothing to do with them.

Of course, in some areas, it's best to run away as soon as you see this kind of scene... because if someone watches the show but doesn't help the drug dealers, the drug dealers will kill that person within three days.

After parking the car, Milton swiped his key to open the apartment building door and took the elevator to his floor.

The mansion had been neglected for several months, and some dust had settled inside.

But at a glance, you can tell how luxurious this building is—one apartment per floor, with top-notch views and amenities.

The furniture and such have a "nouveau riche" feel, reminiscent of the mansions of gangster bosses in movies.

"Tsk, it's definitely expensive, and it doesn't look very aesthetically pleasing."

Flora opened the door, glanced inside, and said, "'Tax collector,' are you sure all the equipment has been delivered? The dust on the floor looks like it hasn't been touched at all."

“It’s inside the house.” Milton stepped inside first and opened the door to the storage room following the instructions on the panel. “Everything you wanted is here.”

The weapons inside were also carefully selected by Milton.

The most important of these is the firearm – the QBZ-56C assault rifle.

This short assault rifle is based on the Type 56 assault rifle and incorporates the shovel-shaped folding stock of the Type 81 rifle, making it very suitable for the needs of this mission.

When the stock is folded, the length is less than 560mm!
Aside from being a bit noisy, there are no other drawbacks.

But Milton also made use of this shortcoming—because there were four pairs of noise-canceling headphones placed not far away.

The enemy could never possibly possess such a thing.

In close combat, even if you can't kill the enemy, you can still leave them stunned and disoriented.

Similarly, bulletproof vests and parachutes were neatly arranged in the room.

“Okay…” Flora nodded, then turned to look at the several rolling suitcases next to her. “When we transport weapons, we’ll put the guns in there.”

"The Juarez Group's field airfields are good for concealment, but there is also a big problem: concealment itself also helps us conceal ourselves to a large extent."

"We'll take a car to the designated location, get off, put on our equipment, and then walk infiltrate the vicinity of their airport."

"Then wait until nightfall, sneak onto the runway, find the plane that Rudolf, the brother of the 'King of the Sky,' is going to board, pick the lock, open the door, and hide inside."

"Once they board the plane, they will use Plan A or Plan B depending on the situation, hijack the plane, change its course, crash it into a building, and we will parachute out at the designated location, right?"

"This plan is extremely dependent on the accuracy of intelligence and information. I'll ask you one more time, 'tax collector,' are you sure your intelligence is accurate?"

“The intelligence will be fine.” Milton nodded, then added a detail that had been overlooked in the plan, “Before crashing into the building, we must prove to the world that we are from the Juarez Group.”

The world has been at peace for too long, and there hasn't been a single rammed-down attack in far too long. We need to show the Mexicans what's what.

As for the locksmith, after opening the lock, he secretly left the airport, bought a plane ticket, and flew back to Tapachula.

After saying that, Milton glanced around the mansion and then said:
"Hmm... I think we should hire a housekeeper for this place, someone to come and clean regularly, to create the illusion that the original owner is still here."

"Then let's do it this way, let's go."

After resting for a while in the room and having a good meal and drinks, the group picked up their equipment and returned to the van.

The car started quickly, and after abandoning it at the designated location, the group got out and slipped into the woods in an inconspicuous spot.

Only after everything was completely hidden did they begin changing their equipment.

After changing into their gear, the group looked at the low-lying jungle that made them feel uneasy, and then walked over.

Thankfully, this isn't a rainforest; otherwise, the level of terror would be several notches higher.
Milton raised his saber and chopped off the branch in front of him.

"The Juarez Group's airport is hidden in this direction, follow me."

"There's no need to deliberately control your voice. The wilderness is noisier than you imagine... Many people can't catch Juarez Group at the airport here, which means Juarez Group can't catch us either."

"understand!"

Milton, as the leader, personally came to the front line to carry out the most dangerous mission, which was a great boost to morale.

They even stopped to encourage them...

For the next few hours, the five-person team kept their heads down and walked forward, even though they were carrying heavy loads, and no one made a sound.

Milton stopped around 22 p.m.

After the intense trek, the team's condition deteriorated significantly, and they needed to rest.

Milton carried water and food despite his heavy load, just for this rest stop along the way—if he couldn't resist falling asleep on the plane when he got to the airport, he would be in big trouble!

"Everyone, rest here for 2 hours before setting off again."

"Eat, drink, rest, check for injuries, then discard all food and first aid supplies and continue on your way."

"..."

rustling...

Finally, at 3 a.m., the team arrived near the airport.

Just as Milton had predicted, it wasn't a very large airport—although the runway was long enough for a 727 to take off and land, it was also heavily disguised and not easily detected now that it wasn't in use.

Flora gasped for breath: "Huff, huff... It really is here. Tax collector, your information network is truly impressive."

Milton ignored her, pointed to a Boeing 727 that was also disguised, and said, "That's the target... Now, find the patrol team first, be careful with your movements, and make sure you don't get spotted."

"Poison," who had been observing with night vision binoculars, said, "'Tax collectors,' there's no need for that. If I'm not mistaken, their patrol team is just slacking off."

Milton turned his head upon hearing this and looked in the direction that "Poison" was looking.

Although the airport is well-hidden, its facilities are relatively complete—control tower, fuel depot, hangar, and warehouse.

Each building is small and has security controls.

The only problem was that the security guards didn't look to be in good condition; they were all lying on the ground, fast asleep.

Yes, it's not just the patrol teams; even the security guards responsible for protecting the various buildings are sleeping.

Flora watched them for a while, making sure they weren't pretending to be asleep, before frowning and asking, "What's going on? This is their main base airport, how can they be so lazy?"

“No.” Milton shook his head. “If it were just ordinary laziness, that would be one thing, but didn’t you notice how openly the patrols were sleeping? If I’m not mistaken, they probably had sleeping bags, right?”

"This suggests that they may not be shirking their duties, or that airport officials have tacitly approved of such behavior by security and patrol teams."

"Accepted it?" Flora asked, puzzled. "Why?"

“I don’t know why,” Milton shook his head. “Maybe it’s because a leader is coming tomorrow, so he needs to rest and recharge? Or maybe it’s some other reason.”

"In any case, the enemy's defenses are very lax, which is good news for us."

"There's no time to lose. Since they're still sleeping, let's get going."

How long will it take to unlock?

The lock-picking expert replied confidently, "No more than 15 seconds... 'Mr. Doting,' you've bought me many similar locks to practice on; I can open them with ease!"

"Okay, follow me infiltrate..."

"..."

A few minutes later, the five-man team arrived near the Boeing 727.

"Iron Anvil" carefully surveyed his surroundings, then quickly walked to the bottom of the aircraft door. The lock-picking expert immediately came down below, stood on his shoulder, and reached for the aircraft door.

After a quick glance, the lock-picking expert confidently stated, "It's a mechanical lock, the same model as one of the ones you had me practice on, 'Father'." Click...

However, after fiddling with the locksmith for two seconds, he suddenly stopped and looked bewildered.

An accident?
Milton's heart sank, and he immediately prepared to retreat empty-handed, asking, "What's wrong? Can't it be started?"

“No, no…” The locksmith shook his head. “This, this door, seems to be unlocked, Mr. ‘Father’.”

"..."

This door doesn't look locked?

An extremely awkward silence fell over the scene.

Seeing that no one spoke, the locksmith quickly handed over his tools and then simply lifted the access panel of the hatch's external handle!
This is what the mechanical lock on this plane is stopping!

The lower part of the handle is pulled outwards, and the upper part of the handle rotates... The hatch disengages from the latch...

And so, the door of a 727 aircraft, which was about to transport important supplies and important people from its local base, was opened!
There were no guards when I entered the airport, and when I opened the door, there wasn't even a chain!

Flora stared in disbelief, and finally said blankly, "How about we go take a look around their warehouse and see if we can find anything good?"

Milton suppressed the urge to curse: "Forget it, let's get on the plane and find a place to hide."

What's most disgusting isn't that the enemy is strong—it's the ability to outwit and outmaneuver them that's truly rewarding.

What's most disgusting is that after doing a lot of things, you find that the enemy isn't on guard at all!
Milton, who had made so many plans and gathered so much intelligence, now seemed like a clown.

They even have professional lock-picking equipment, lock-picking experts, and the option to buy a bunch of locks to practice on... You wouldn't believe it, would you? The planes at the Juarez Group's headquarters are simply not locked!

“Ah, ‘Tax Collector,’ you’re good at everything, except that sometimes you really overestimate the enemy’s abilities.”

"What kind of capable person or well-organized group could stoop to drug trafficking?"

There's no way around it; the education I received from childhood was all about dealing with the United States. I grew up surrounded by the idea of ​​how powerful the US military is... How could I not be cautious?
"Alright, let's go." Milton shook his head. "Keep your voice down when you close the door, and make sure you hide the parachute well. It would be a real mess if it got hit during the gunfight later."

"I know, I know……"

"..."

……

A few hours later, at dawn.

The sun has just risen.

A Mercedes-Benz G-Class, accompanied by two Toyota LC80s, drove up from a side road and stopped on the runway—at this point, all the concealment materials used for hiding on the runway had been removed.

Several off-road trucks also followed.

A man of slightly overweight build, with a full beard, conforming to the stereotypical image of a traditional Latin American, stepped out of the Mercedes-Benz G-Class, glanced around the airport a few times, and nodded in satisfaction.

Following them were several armed guards, whose demeanor alone suggested they were not to be trifled with.

Of course... the airport security personnel were equally dedicated and professional, either patrolling around the airport or guarding important airport buildings.

There was absolutely no sign of fatigue from patrolling all night.

"Not bad." Rudolf nodded with great satisfaction and looked at the airport manager. "You've managed it very well. I'll decide to give you a raise next month."

The person in charge was overjoyed: "Thank you for your generosity, esteemed Mr. 'Ghost'!"

"Alright, have your people come and move the stuff. Have my people guard the airport... Be careful, I brought some liquor, don't break it."

"Yes, sir!!!" The person in charge waved his hand sharply, ordering the soldiers still on guard to move things. "Stop patrolling, move things, move things!"

"Use your eyes!"

"'Mr. Ghost' is going south, to the border, to teach the Guatemalans who don't know how to be polite a little lesson."

The person in charge said with a fawning smile, "'Ghost' Mr., you just took down a bunch of clueless police officers near the airport yesterday afternoon. People in that godforsaken place, Chiapas, are probably trembling with fear at the mere mention of your name, hahaha!"

“Every day, countless stupid DEA Americans come from Texas. They are our real opponents! Our boss is a big shot, and Mr. Ghost, you are a big shot who can crush those people with a flick of your finger.”

Rudolf was very pleased with the praise. He arrogantly raised his head and said, "That piece of trash from the Gulf (Gulf Group) side, Cárdenas, managed to get himself into such a mess by the local police. Heh, what a disgrace."

As one of the heads of the Juarez Group and the younger brother of the "King of the Sky," Rudolf is practically a local tyrant in the city of Juarez.

This is one of the most violent cities in Mexico.

Local police can't handle them, state police can't handle them, federal police can't handle them.

Even the DEA couldn't do anything about them.

Rudolph once personally killed a DEA agent—the Americans were right next door, right across the street, and there was nothing he could do about them.

If we're not afraid of Americans, why would we be afraid of the police in a poor border state?

Rudolf, who had inside information, knew the truth about Tapachula and that the Gulf Group had been framed, but he didn't care.

Because the Juarez Group controls the skies, it can spread its power to every corner of the country with minimal loss!
Countless guns, a large number of rocket launchers and man-portable missiles, as well as machine guns, grenade launchers, bulletproof vests, etc., can be transported from the northernmost part of Mexico to the southernmost part of Mexico in just a few hours!

"..."

While praising the drug dealers, they were loading goods onto the plane—weapons, food, and other "goods."

The airport manager glanced over there and continued to flatter, "'Ghost' is truly remarkable. With just a few men, he's confident he can take out the police over there!"

"It's not that simple." Rudolf chuckled. "These people are the core combat force. We already have quite a few people in Tapachula, but they lack leaders, which is why they can't unleash their full combat power."

"It's not just about having these few people, but about having these few people who can make the most of our local resources."

"..."

In just over half an hour, thanks to the hard work of the drug traffickers at the airport, all the goods on the trucks were transported to the airport.

The vast majority of weapons and equipment were simply tossed into the cargo hold, with only a perfunctory attempt at securing them.

But the ingredients, the fine wines, and the exquisite tableware were all neatly arranged, and no one dared to get a speck of dust on them.

“Mr. Ghost, the plane is ready and can take off at any time! I will take you to your seat.”

"This is a television; you can watch any movie you want."

"Hehe, and this is a surprise we prepared for you—a female prison guard! This bitch isn't cheap!"

"This is a refrigerator..."

"And here..."

Rudolph was extremely satisfied. Excellent!

After finishing his long and detailed speech, the airport manager bowed and said, "Sir, you may now board. Have a pleasant journey!"

Soon, Rudolf, along with his soldiers, the drug dealers he was training, the crew, and a top chef, climbed the gangway and boarded the plane.

No one was willing to go into the cargo hold for even a glance; everyone boarded via the passenger boarding stairs and immediately found their own large sofa to sit on.

Boom... Whoosh!

The 727's engines were started, it taxied on the runway, and soon it took to the air.

After the plane stabilized, various delicacies and fine wines were brought up and placed on a spacious table for the drug dealers to enjoy.

Rudolph used his silver knife and fork to cut a beautifully plated medium-rare steak, put it in his mouth, and nodded with satisfaction: "This steak is cooked very well."

"Good wine!"

"This is caviar imported from Russia, it's very good, very good..."

"Australian imported lobster..."

"..."

The airplane suddenly became a paradise for drug dealers.

Most of the ingredients here are extremely expensive and difficult to obtain even on Earth, yet the drug dealers here can enjoy them in the sky.

Moreover, he behaves like a nouveau riche, often throwing away what he has eaten.

"Hahaha! I wonder if those poor bastards in the south will ever get to eat such good food in their lifetime?"

"Go eat their Heinz rotten canned food (tomato beans)."

Rudolph chuckled, beaming with pride, "This bottle, no, this glass of wine, can buy a life over there—it's a reward my brother gave me; I personally shot and killed a DEA agent!"

This is his proudest achievement!
"..."

"Hmm..." After eating and drinking his fill, Rudolf got up and walked forward. "I've eaten enough. I'm going to rest for a bit. Remember to call me when we get there."

In that direction, there is a small bedroom, complete with a double bed and a private bathroom.

The plane was flying very smoothly and wouldn't disturb his rest.

"After I get off the plane, I'll see who in all of Mexico dares to mess with me, who can mess with me?"

However, just as he stood up, a series of fierce gunshots suddenly rang out from the direction of the cargo hold behind him without any warning!
Boom boom boom!
The drug dealers, who were still eating desserts, didn't even have time to react before bright red blood splattered from their chests, heads, and other places!
"Everyone, hands up!"

"Tax bureau is conducting a tax inspection! Don't move!!!"

P.S.: Is this all there is to the Gust? I knew it was trash, but I didn't expect it to be even worse than I thought.

(End of this chapter)