Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 183, "The Market Garden"

Frontline in Vevetenango Province.

Boom boom...

A Dragonfly attack aircraft swept across the sky, its loud roar briefly pausing the discussions at the 2nd Infantry Brigade command post.

Only after the noise subsided did the argument erupt again inside the command post.

Not long ago, their "reliable" ally delivered a very disappointing message to them.

The assassination attempt on Milton, codenamed "Operation Poison Hunt," has been declared a complete failure.

A complete failure means that not only was the main task of killing Milton not accomplished, but even the secondary task of smearing him was not completed.

Even Sally, who was pushed out to be sacrificed, seems to still be being resuscitated and is not dead!
There are many failed actions, but very few that fail to this extent.

"How can this be?"

"We'd never even heard of this kind of poison before, let alone this method of poisoning... Anyway, if someone had planned an assassination attempt against me like this, I would definitely be dead!"

Lopez’s extremely cold voice came from the other end of the phone: “No matter how nicely you put it, the fact is that your plan has failed again. Including the two Black Hawks you lost not long ago, you have failed twice now.”

While his own failure was painful, the CIA's failure brought some solace.

“Oh! No, no, no, not ‘we’.” An instructor in the command room immediately corrected Lopez’s wording. “I’m just a former CIA employee who became the ‘Dark Wolf Mercenary Group’ after leaving the agency, that’s all.”

Lopez didn't bother listening to that nonsense. He said, "The government just received a message that Milton Group is demanding an explanation from them about this matter."

The instructor from the "Dark Wolf" mercenary group asked, "How do they plan to explain this?"

Lopez's answer was simple: "Arsu doesn't want to be in direct conflict with Milton right now, do you understand what that means, Mr. Ross?"

Ross chuckled: "An explanation... given Milton's personality, he would definitely consider the Arsu government an enemy, that idiot."

“No one would believe he’s this good until they’ve actually been hurt by Milton,” Lopez said calmly. “None of you would either.”

“Milton’s attitude shows his weakness,” Ross said noncommittally. “If he were really as strong as he appears, he would retaliate within two hours, regardless of any questioning.”

"It's true that he got Champeriko, but his main players are there too, and he needs a lot of time to make adjustments."

“Milton now has only two options if he wants to support the rebels. The first is to head north along the port and attack the two major cities of Retaluleu and Quetzaltenango, and then march north.”

"Or perhaps they could return by the same route, back to his town of Malacan, then climb the mountains to attack the city of San Marcos and Quetzaltenango, and march north."

"No matter which route we take, Milton won't be able to get here in a short time. We have the strategic depth of two cities."

"The rebels at the front have less than 2000 men left. They are desperately spreading rumors that they have 10,000 defenders, but most of them are militiamen who may not even have enough guns and bullets. Don't take it seriously."

“As long as we push forward and completely take over Vevetenango Province, Milton will still be isolated, still an island.”

After a series of major setbacks, Lopez seemed to have lost much of his respect for Americans, and his tone was still filled with that inexplicable sarcasm: "Really? I heard that the Mexicans in Tapachula have become his strong backing. And he now has a port, so is that considered an isolated island?"

"The port can suppress... the Mexicans in Tapachula, haha. Governments come and go, but drug cartels remain constant, nothing to worry about."

"The rebels have now been greatly weakened, we have a huge equipment advantage, and we can use air superiority to obtain a lot of enemy information... Victory is just around the corner."

“Even if we only count heads, the Second Infantry Brigade has over 2500 elite soldiers, and the special forces have several hundred. You’ve been recruiting recently, bringing in so many men, at least 5000, right? And there are also troops being transferred from various cities who can be deployed to the front lines soon…”

"Superior equipment, 2000 troops to 10000..."

"Stop!" Lopez interrupted the man, saying, "Enough with the nonsense. My equipment will be here soon. Cross the river quickly and annihilate the enemy. Remember, this is our only chance."

"Alright, wait for our good news."

Ross hung up the phone with Lopez and looked at the officers around him.

One of the officers quickly brought over a glass of water and asked with a smile, "Mr. Ross, what are your specific plans for the battle?"

Now they are all very respectful.

It wasn't just because of their American identity, but also because their lives and fortunes were completely intertwined with the outcome of this war.

If they lose again, the Lopez Group will collapse instantly. Those who are lucky will escape to live abroad; those who are less lucky will hand over most of their wealth and join other warlords; and those who are even less lucky will be shot by Milton.

"We have almost completely cleared the banks of the Seguala River."

"Before crossing the river, have the newly arrived howitzers and heavy machine guns continuously suppress the riverbank; then send the engineer company up to lay folding assault bridges on the shallows."

"Tanks and infantry fighting vehicles will cross the river and establish a bridgehead to protect subsequent troops crossing the river, while suppressing enemy forces."

"In the air, ground attack aircraft and helicopters will provide you with assistance."

"What you need to do is be fast, even faster, execute the mission with lightning speed, and achieve victory."

"It's just the most standard tactic, simple, right?"

The expressions of the other officers present changed slightly.

It is indeed simple, but the soldiers under their command may not actually be able to carry out such a simple task well.

The answer is simple: throughout history, river-crossing battles have always resulted in particularly high casualties, especially among those responsible for building bridgeheads.

Even though the rebels have been severely weakened, their casualties will still be considerable.

What is the quality of the soldiers they have? Can they coordinate well? If chaos breaks out on the battlefield, casualties will be inevitable. Can they withstand such high casualties?

The answer is obvious.

An officer probed indirectly, "Um, do you have any ways to minimize casualties... or a replenishment plan?"

Ross sighed, carefully summarizing the recent battlefield information in his mind, and then tapped the table: "How about this, since the equipment hasn't arrived yet, and we control the skies... When you go back later, get me some people over here."

"Someone who knows how to parachute, or has strong hands-on learning ability."

"After a little training, my mercenary group will lead an airdrop into the enemy's position tomorrow night."

"Once the equipment arrives, the airborne troops will coordinate with the frontline troops—with our airborne troops causing trouble in the rear, the enemy's frontline blocking force will inevitably be greatly weakened."

"During the air raids these past few days, I've identified a few areas where the enemy's defenses are relatively weak. I'll mark them on the map later."

"Airdropping into these locations also ensures greater safety."

"..."

"This operation is codenamed 'Operation High Mountain'!"

Ross spoke eloquently, pointing at the battle map and outlining the battle plan in an orderly manner.

A surprise airborne operation, coordinated with the rapid movement of ground armored forces, was launched—a surgical strike—to seize a key enemy stronghold.

If successful, it would be an art form on the battlefield.

"As expected of Americans, they really know how to fight!"

"awesome!"

"..."

Ross was secretly pleased, but his face remained serious: "What the military needs is efficiency, not sycophants. Alright, you guys hurry back—remember what I said, you need to have parachuted before, or be smart and quick learners."

"I don't want to see a bunch of people who don't even know how to open a parachute jumping off our helicopter and crashing to the ground, making us a laughing stock for the rebels."

"understand!"

"rest assured!"

The officers walked out of the command post with forced smiles.

As soon as they stepped outside, the fawning on their faces vanished, and they practically put their noses in the soldiers' mouths.

Those mid- to lower-ranking officers who had access to these high-ranking officers also wore fawning smiles.

An officer whose rank had been reduced to major, caught a craving for nicotine, took a puff of his pipe, a satisfied look on his face, and asked his subordinate, "Any good news to report?"

"Yes, yes!" The lieutenant quickly stepped forward. "Hehe, boss... you have to praise me this time. I managed to snatch some good stuff from the First Battalion for you."

The major took another drag of his narcotic pipe: "Oh? What good stuff?"

"Hahaha! Our men have breached a Mayan village before the First Battalion could!"

The major's eyes lit up: "Oh? A village, and people there?"

“Yes!” the lieutenant said excitedly. “The younger people escaped, but many children, the elderly, and those with mobility issues didn’t have time to run, or were unable to run.”

The major handed the lieutenant a cigarette and nodded with satisfaction: "Not bad. How many people are in the village?"

“There were originally over 100, but more than 10 died on the way here. Now there are still over 90!” The lieutenant took the cigarette and carefully held it in his hands. “Boss, what are you planning to do with them?”

"How should we handle this?" The major shrugged. "The same way as before. We'll keep the kids, sell the adults if we can, and kill the ones we can't sell. That'll be our achievement."

With a little packaging, this wave of attacks could be described as annihilating 500 enemy soldiers and capturing 60 of them alive – a victory!
Great achievement!
As for the children, their role was to serve as economic interests for these officers or to satisfy other needs.

As the major walked, he thought about the immense pressure he had been under recently, and the enemy troops who refused to surrender, which had slowed their advance. Anger suddenly ignited in his mind, which had been ravaged by drugs.

"No, I get angry when I hear about these Mayan things!"

"I finally caught him this time."

"Where are they? Take me there. I want to execute these war criminals in front of everyone."

The lieutenant quickly pointed in a direction and said, "I'll take you there!"

Before long, the two arrived at a battlefield prison cell, where dozens of people were haphazardly crammed into a room with extremely harsh conditions and very small space.

The cells were filled with limbs intertwined, making it impossible to lie down; prisoners could only sit curled up on the floor. The ground was covered with a mixture of excrement and mud, permeating the air with a stench and swarming flies—many prisoners were injured, their wounds festering and oozing pus, filling the air with the smell of rotting flesh and blood.

The vast majority of them were extremely thin, so weak from dehydration and hunger that they could barely stand, and their eyes revealed fear.

"Damn Mayans." The major laughed at their miserable state. "Weren't you supposed to be good fighters and able to resist? Keep resisting!"

"Sirs, gentlemen... this has nothing to do with us!"

"yes……"

"We have never done anything bad to your people."

The major flew into a rage, kicking over the chair beside him and roaring, "How dare they! These war criminals dare to deny it and talk back! They deserve to die! You, arrest those who were just trying to argue!"

Several soldiers guarding the prison immediately obeyed orders and arrested the people who were begging for mercy and explaining themselves—including two or three people who had remained silent the whole time!
"Wait, we..."

The major knew they hadn't spoken, but he didn't care. He simply waved his hand and ordered, "Beat them! Beat them hard! Just leave them with a breath left."

These soldiers might not have the guts to fight Milton on the battlefield, but they certainly had the audacity to kill innocent civilians and claim credit for their crimes in the military camp.

The guards immediately picked up their whips and went up to lash those who had been dragged out.

"what--"

"Stop hitting me! I didn't say anything! I didn't say anything!"

"what!!!"

"Dad, Dad...no! Please stop hitting us...I...I told you you should leave, you shouldn't have stayed to take care of us..."

"..."

After an unknown amount of brutal whipping, the major looked at the several Mayans lying on the ground, barely alive, and nodded with great satisfaction.

"Drag him out and execute him! Let everyone know that this is the price of rebellion, this is the fate of traitors!"

"Loosen the ropes binding them. Perfect, let our soldiers practice their marksmanship!"

Wow!
The entire camp erupted in cheers.

"Boss, let me take the shot. You know I'm a great shot; I can take these guys down in no more than one shot!"

"Screw you, killing them with one shot is nothing. I can hit every single one of them, but it would still take at least five shots to kill them. Can you do that?"

Stop bragging!

"You're not convinced? Then let's have a competition!"

"..."

Amidst laughter and cheers, an ingenious yet incredibly cruel "hunting competition" began.

boom! boom! boom!
As bullets flew through the air, the soldiers executing criminals were not in a hurry to kill them directly; some even deliberately fired blanks to scare them.

It took a full three or four minutes for all the prisoners to be executed.

A soldier, watching the young prisoner weep in despair, who had witnessed her father being tortured to death, deliberately gave her the middle finger and laughed loudly, "Hahaha! That's great!" The pent-up unease in their hearts vanished instantly.

The lieutenant watched as several soldiers went to clean up the "hunting ground," and then, as if only now remembering the important matter, turned to ask, "By the way, boss... what did that American guy call you in for?"

"Oh!" The major suddenly remembered that there was still important business to attend to. "He plans to organize an airborne operation and has called over everyone in the camp who knows how to use a parachute. Who does?"

When the question was asked, only two or three people raised their hands.

Just kidding. The Guatemalan Air Force is so valuable that even its helicopters are not something ordinary people can touch.

If the fighting on the front lines hadn't been so intense, there wouldn't even be these few people raising their hands.

"That's not enough... Here's what we'll do: bring in a few bright minds for an emergency training session tonight."

"Let me tell you, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you perform well, you might be able to transfer to the Air Force in the future."

"Air Force! I don't need to elaborate on the treatment the Air Force receives, do I?"

"Spots are limited. Tell me now, who wants to sign up?"

Upon hearing that they could become air force officers, these ordinary soldiers couldn't calm down and start raising their hands, shouting excitedly.

"I'll do it, sir! I can do it. You know I'm always very smart!"

"Get out of my way! With your body, which's constantly on drugs, how could you possibly be an air force pilot? Me, me! I may not have jumped a parachute myself, but I've seen others do it, and I think I can too!"

"I come……"

The atmosphere at the registration site was very enthusiastic.

The major didn't spend much time assembling the manpower Ross needed.

Those who were not selected looked at the soldiers who had been chosen by the major with a mixture of envy and jealousy—perhaps in the future, they could serve on helicopters and live the life of a first-class person.

Being able to fly in the sky significantly reduces the mortality rate!

Didn't you see those Dragonfly attack aircraft preparing to fly over every day, straf the enemy positions, drop bombs, and then return safely?

"Alright, alright, everyone else stay put. Those who have been selected, come with me and get ready for training!"

"go!"

"Going to join the Air Force, hahaha!"

"Landing at a weak point in the enemy's defenses? That sounds really cool."

"..."

……

Rebel airfield.

Under the cover of night, several Y-5 transport aircraft slowly landed on the airport runway.

Since the enemy controlled the airspace, Milton couldn't gamble with his life, so he had to fly through Mexican airspace under cover of darkness and return when he was almost there.

As for the matter in Port Champellico, Milton directly summoned Luz and Veronica, who were working hard in Malacan and managing the town very well.

Let them be responsible for the relevant internal affairs.

These two former prosecutors have performed quite well in handling administrative affairs. Having gained enough experience in the small town, they can be placed in a larger setting to see if they can handle things well.

As soon as he got off the plane, Milton saw the runway, which had clearly been hit by multiple attacks.

Looking at Juan running over to greet him, Milton asked thoughtfully, "Has the enemy found the location of the airport?"

“Yes…” Juan gave a wry smile, “There’s nothing we can do. Air superiority is in the enemy’s hands; it was only a matter of time.”

"Even the location of the command post has been found."

“Lopez must have bought a second Dragonfly. The government’s airstrikes are much more frequent than before, and the helicopters are not so afraid of our air defenses anymore.”

"It's just that their bombing wasn't very effective."

Don't be fooled by the fact that dragonflies can carry 500kg bombs, which seems impressive. In the context of the entire battlefield, they're just like small firecrackers.

Milton nodded: "So after losing air superiority, I've been doing nighttime transport to minimize the risk."

Because they lacked air superiority and their rear areas were being bombed, the resistance forces were compressed into a very small area. Furthermore, being in a state of war, almost the entire resistance territory was considered the front line.

The panel does not allow you to directly exchange items at the front lines.

Moreover, Milton didn't have enough points to redeem another large army—just redeeming and maintaining the scaled-down combined arms battalion that attacked Champelli Port had already put him under immense financial pressure.

Milton could only transport some weapons, equipment, and personnel by plane; whether the resistance could withstand the attack head-on depended on the rebels themselves.

Juan glanced at the sky and said with some surprise, "But tonight, the enemy's air raids on us have almost stopped... Usually at this time, there would be an offensive, right?"

"Don't you have anti-aircraft missiles?" Milton asked as they walked. "Why are their helicopters operating so openly?"

"The vast majority of them are SAM-7s, which have insufficient range. They fire from a distance, and as soon as a missile comes at them, they immediately release flares and maneuver, making them very difficult to hit. So far, we have only shot down three helicopters."

The SAM-7 only has infrared guidance, making it very easy to jam, and it is also quite old, so its effectiveness is indeed limited.

“You gave us a set of Stingers, but the other side is also very cunning. They know that we don’t have many anti-aircraft missiles and cannot deploy them fully, so every air raid is very random and there is no pattern to it.”

"We can't take the risk if there's not a high probability of shooting them down. Otherwise, if the enemy becomes wary, it will be even harder for us to target their planes..."

Milton nodded: "No problem... My men are here to help you fill the gaps in your defense. They'll be ready by tomorrow night."

Juan's face showed shame again: "I'm sorry, we really had no other choice. Lopez's men have air superiority, they can definitely see the problems with our defenses."

"Let's go, I'll take you to our command post, which is more hidden and has stronger security measures. It's just that the environment isn't very good, but please don't mind."

Milton nodded casually: "It's alright, let's go."

Soon, led by Juan, Milton, Flora, Brandon, Ishimaya, and others arrived at the temporary command post located underground.

Water stains were clearly visible in the command post—drainage is a major problem for this type of underground fortress.

This command post clearly did not fully resolve the problem.

Fortunately, at least the area where the electronic devices are placed is relatively dry.

As soon as Milton stepped into the temporary command post, several people inside immediately turned their gazes toward him.

Everyone, including "Commander" Lark, looked at Milton with the eyes of someone looking at God.

"In just one day, your troops appeared behind Lopez's army lines as if they had descended directly upon them, destroying his command system, capturing his port city, and severing one of his legs!"

"This is simply a military miracle!"

"Art, art!"

Lac laughed even harder: "'Hell Tax Collector,' you know, we often bring this up as a joke when we eat now—when we try to mock something that looks powerful but is actually useless, we just say it's the 'Lopez Line,' hahaha!"

"I believe this proper noun will become a source of endless amusement for us."

"If we are ultimately able to win this war, perhaps we can even include this battle in our textbooks..."

Is this the Guatemalan version of the "Maginot Line" meme?

López may truly be forever branded with shame...

Milton inwardly scoffed, then waved his hand and said, "I just used my knowledge and combat skills to create an information gap. It was just a trick on Lopez, nothing serious."

"No, no, no!" Lak shook his head violently. "This is absolutely the most important turning point in this civil war! No matter what, as long as it works, as long as it brings a surprise victory, that's all that matters!"

"So many military experts are analyzing your operation now... It's simply, simply astounding."

"The plan looks simple, but just transporting so many troops to the dock without anyone noticing requires extremely strong intelligence capabilities, camouflage capabilities, and high-intensity coordination between various units."

"Just learning how to do this is enough for many people to study for a lifetime... No, even if you can learn half of it, this is an elite force that can fight on the whole world!"

“I’m suddenly a little envious of ‘Silver Lion.’ It must be such a privilege for her to be able to go over there and fight alongside your troops…”

"Silver Lion" was Ishimaya's nickname.

Lak concluded with a sigh, "This... no one could have imagined that a military strategist like you would appear here. Everyone, including the CIA, underestimated you and failed to see through your schemes."

Milton can take criticism, engage in discussions, and even flame people, but he really can't accept this kind of flattery: "I'm not Jesus, so it's impossible for me to be so easily seen through... Okay, let's not talk about this anymore. I'm going to rest and sleep. My men will be able to reinforce the defenses tomorrow night."

Lak immediately pointed to a room that wasn't very nice, but was the largest in the entire command center: "Your room is in that direction!"

"Get some rest, we'll continue to study your every battle..."

"..."

After saying that, Lark sat down again and began to seriously discuss Milton's "military miracle" with the other officers.

Milton was speechless: "..."

Damn it, I just did a little bit of that, it had absolutely nothing to do with military discipline...

Forget it, I'm too lazy to explain.

Flora followed Milton into the room, sighed, looked around, and asked, "Oh dear, where am I going to sleep?"

Milton pointed to the side: "There's a sofa over there."

"cut……"

"Go to sleep!"

Milton is not a person who enjoys hardship, but that's just because he doesn't create hardship for himself. He can endure hardship if the circumstances are right.

Even in this extremely uncomfortable, damp environment, Milton quickly fell asleep.

Until someone knocked on the door of the room.

Boom boom boom!
Very urgent.

Milton and Flora on the sofa immediately opened their eyes, sat up almost simultaneously, and asked the same question: "What is it?"

Honestly, Milton hasn't had a good night's sleep since the war started, almost always being woken up by various messages that require his attention.

It's a little past 3 a.m., not quite 4 a.m., and I was already having an uncomfortable time sleeping. To be forcibly dragged out of bed, you can imagine how I felt.

But there's nothing we can do; after all, he's the supreme commander.
Outside, Juan's voice came through: "'Hell Tax Collector,' it's a call for you. He has something to report to you."

"Wait for me for 10 seconds."

After changing his shoes and grabbing his pistol in 10 seconds, Milton followed Juan over and answered the phone.

"'The Godfather'?"

Milton's reply was very brief: "Speak."

"The frontline scouts, who have penetrated deep into enemy territory, have just reported that they have discovered unusual movements by the enemy."

Milton immediately perked up. He switched to speakerphone and asked, "What unusual activity? Tell me! Tell me slowly and in detail!"

Information that can be called in the middle of the night must be very urgent and useful!
"Lopez's army helicopters suddenly mobilized in large numbers back to the rear for some reason, and it looks like they are organizing a large-scale airborne exercise."

"..."

A large number of helicopters have been redeployed to the rear... This aligns with what Juan just reported: a significant reduction in government airstrikes.

But what exactly is an airborne exercise?
Milton was a little confused: "An airborne exercise? Are they parachuting?"

"Yes, they're skydiving." The person on the other end of the phone sounded very nervous. "'Godfather,' you must be fully prepared!"

Upon receiving the news, everyone was very worried—Milton was strong, but stray bullets don't discriminate; if the enemy airdropped one on his face, things could get very difficult.

Unlike the previous raid on the tax office, this time the enemy's location was uncertain, and the helicopters certainly wouldn't be flying that low...

In short, everyone was very worried about Milton's personal safety.

However, Milton's reaction exceeded everyone's expectations. He could hardly contain his surprise: "What?! Lopez thinks he has too much of an advantage and is coming to his death?!"

"Go, notify the airport to take off now, and bring me the flares for illuminating the skies!"

"And machine guns! Pack all the machine guns and cannons you can bring over into the plane and bring them over!"

Holy crap, the Market Garden operation is delivered right to our doorstep, huh? Is there some kind of good deal like this?
P.S.: The Sinaloa Group's civil war, with the Guzman family and CJNG allying with almost all other groups to fight, happened not long ago, and it's hard to keep things going.

(End of this chapter)