Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 190 The Enemy in the Capital
Just before he was about to kick the man onto the car, Milton heard those words and finally stopped what he was doing.

Those who were brought before Milton were already confirmed scum, but he never expected that they might actually get some questions.

"Oh? Who are you? How do you know such things?" Milton looked him up and down. "Don't make things up, or you'll regret it."

"I...I'm a businessman! My name is Mars!" the man quickly introduced himself. "I...I don't have any direct leads, but I assure you I'm not making this up!"

Milton waved his hand, signaling Brandon to continue interrogating the remaining people in line to be reincarnated, his gaze fixed on Mars: "A merchant? What kind of merchant would know this kind of information? Are you an intelligence merchant?"

Having heard all sorts of terrifying rumors about the "Hell Tax Collector," Mars dared not tell a single lie and shook his head violently, saying, "I sell food."

Upon hearing this, Milton immediately understood why he had been captured and brought here.

Not at all, not at all.

Many times, the cause of famine is not entirely due to an absolute shortage of food, but rather because the supply of food is so small that a few people can monopolize it all.

It seems that the person in front of me is profiting from the national crisis.

Of course, as soon as Milton entered the city, these people were in big trouble.

If it's just a slight price increase, Milton and his men can barely ignore it... but if they really want to take advantage of the national crisis to make a fortune, then Milton will come and buy it for free.

Seeing that Milton didn't speak, Mars quickly continued to explain, "I have a friend in Guatemala City who helped me get the qualifications and connections. He's from a lobbying group, and that's where my guess came from."

Lobbying groups are organizations that represent specific interest groups and influence government policy-making and legislation through "legal" means. Their core objective is to promote or obstruct policies and bills by communicating with legislators and executive officials in order to maximize their own interests.

In layman's terms, it's a form of legal corruption.

Milton finally perked up a bit: "Good, continue. Tell me, where is the clue to Lopez's sudden easing of his financial problems?"

It would be impossible for someone to buy food and sell it safely during wartime without connections.

What he said was somewhat credible.

Seeing that the man, rumored to be from hell, was so composed, Mars secretly breathed a sigh of relief and then said, "Just recently, when I tried to find him, he was too busy and made me wait for ages..."

Milton began, "Is he lobbying Congress on Lopez's behalf?"

“No, not that figurehead Congress… it’s the president!” Mars shook his head violently. “Just to be on the safe side of the business, I also have some contact with other lobbyists, and I went to see them immediately.”

"The result, the result!"

"These lobbying groups are all doing the same thing!"

Mars's tone was also filled with strong doubt: "Then, from that day on, Lopez's financial problems improved significantly."

“Previously, in Quetzaltenango and here, the streets were full of soldiers demanding their wages, people were starving to death every day, and there was nothing to eat in the shops, hotels and restaurants… But after that day, the situation improved significantly.”

"That's why I lost a lot of money on my last deal," Mars said with a wry smile. "I stockpiled a batch of goods at a high price, only to find that the supply had recovered."

Milton wasn't surprised at all; he had already figured out the whole story: "That's why you took such a big risk to try your luck in Retalu Leu, a city directly affected by the war. You're in a hurry to recoup your losses."

Mars nodded with a wry smile, unwilling to discuss his business matters further, and continued, "So I speculate that Lopez must have made some kind of deal that could quickly generate cash flow, and this deal requires the president's signature and cooperation!"

Milton nodded and continued, "That's right, so you have a list... those lobbyists know what Lopez did, right?"

“Yes, I can provide you with the list.” Mars glanced cautiously at Milton, then at the gruesome gas chamber piled high with corpses. “Do I… do I still need to get in the car?”

Milton waved his hand: "As long as you don't try anything funny, you can go through the normal trial process. You'll get a heavy sentence, but I don't think it will be the death penalty. Now, give me the list."

If this person dares to make any more demands, or ask for leniency or anything like that, Milton will throw him into the gas chamber in the next second.

At worst, we can just give up on this lead; at worst, we can pressure the president later. In short, he won't accept any form of blackmail.

Mars breathed a long sigh of relief and said repeatedly, "I'll write it down for you right away! One of them is based in Quetzaltenango, and he might not have left yet. If you're lucky, you might be able to catch him."

Soon, Mars squatted by the roadside and sold his business partner without hesitation, handing the not-so-long list to Milton.

There are a total of 3 lobbying groups, with 5 names.

The moment these names were displayed, corresponding information appeared on the panel.

[You have obtained clues about the conspiracy between López and President Arsú. You have found the names of some of the participants. Unlocking detailed information about these individuals (whereabouts, family, etc.) requires 10 red points.]

The panel confirmed the authenticity of Mars's intelligence, confirming that he was not playing tricks.

"Lock him up. After the war is over, we'll clean up the corrupt local judiciary before sending him for trial."

"Roger that!"

After Mars was sent away, Milton glanced at Flora.

Flora exclaimed at the same time, "The enemy is in the capital."

“That’s normal.” Milton retreated back inside the building, shaking his head. “Many people acquire power to monetize it.”

"And what about you? What are your plans?" Flora asked Milton curiously. "After you conquered Retalu Leu, including Champerico Port and the territories you've already taken, your territory is basically the size of a province, and you control many important chokepoints. What are your plans for the future?"

Milton arrived at the makeshift drone control room and glanced at the screen.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke: "This little bit of territory is not enough. It's called a province, but how big can a province in Guatemala be, and what kind of economic capacity can it have? I can still cause trouble now, but I haven't provoked any real 'big forces' or touched their core interests."

"With just a few broken planes, a few old tanks, and a few towed artillery pieces, and soldiers who haven't fought many battles, wouldn't they be easily kicked to death? Not enough, still not enough!"

"I want more taxes and a stronger army."

"Of course, before that, I need to find out exactly what dirty deals Lopez made that required such a big move."

Flora clicked her tongue and gave a thumbs up: "You're definitely different from those warlords."

"Okay, okay." Milton continued looking at the screen and asked, "How's the company doing? How's business in Mexico?"

Although Milton is also a major shareholder, and Flora has basically stopped participating in the management of "Warwind Company," she still reports any important matters to her.

Milton is now forging his warriors through the crucible of war, but he also needs to constantly recruit soldiers.

Moreover, with the massive riots in Mexico looming, sufficient fighting power is needed to preserve the fruits of victory, or even go further.

"Warwind Company" was responsible for doing this in Mexico.

"It's not bad. Several people from headquarters have already come over." Flora's face lit up with a satisfied smile when she talked about the company. "Now we just train the soldiers every day and take on some defense orders from over there. Life is quite comfortable."

"Don't bring up me like this..." Flora narrowed her eyes. "Let's continue talking about you. What are your plans for the future? Are you going to continue like this, with an ambiguous identity, or are you going to follow Lopez's path, being a warlord while trying to get involved in politics? With your current approval rating... and the number of tanks you own, running for a local councilor shouldn't be too difficult."

Milton immediately shook his head: "No, I'll be the head of my tax office—these tanks aren't an army, they're just the tax police force to make sure I can collect taxes."

"Uh, I remember that until now, you've been self-appointed as the head of the tax bureau, haven't you?" Flora couldn't help but complain. "The only one with official documents is that checkpoint chief... and you forced him to sign that too."

"Why do you always bring up the most awkward things?" Milton said, a little annoyed. "Once I get Retalulleu under my control, what's a mere letter of appointment? It won't be long before a real tax bureau can be set up."

The vast majority of Retalu Leu province has fallen under Milton's actual control. The high-ranking officials were originally just figureheads, mere tools for Lopez to sign and stamp documents. Now Milton has taken Lopez's place, so it's not difficult to get a document from him.

“Hmm… since you’ve brought this up, we should indeed think about how to establish our administrative system.” Milton thought for a moment, “Don’t change the big picture, replace the officials with people I trust, our own people; and we need to carefully review each civil servant one by one, and arrest all those with problems.”

"We could establish a civil service examination."

"The most crucial thing is to focus on education and attract talent... Matteo should know more about these things. Let's transfer him over here. Stop him from selling his wine in the old streets all day. It's pointless."

As Flora wrote these words down, she muttered to herself, "Wait a minute, is this my job? Aren't I supposed to be the thug? You should talk to Brandon..."

Milton ignored her rambling, looked at the drone screen, and asked the operator, "How's the situation?"

"They seem to have realized we have aerial reconnaissance units, and they're now consciously using buildings to obscure our view." The operator said with some regret, "In urban warfare, drones probably can't perform as effectively as they do in field battles."

"Drones are really amazing. Even if the enemy is aware of our presence, they have no way of finding such a small thing from the sky."

They were practically fighting with their eyes open, it was incredibly exhilarating.

Milton shook his head slightly—drones can't be effective in urban warfare? It's just that current drones are too bulky, too big, and too expensive.

For example, the Israeli reconnaissance plane that Milton has now, which he stole from drug dealers, is worth at least $300 million, even though it's so old.

Three million US dollars for one aircraft. That's just the price tag; even if you want to buy one, you might not be able to.

This equipment is simply not capable of carrying out suicide missions; losing even one would send Milton into a panic. It's currently incapable of accomplishing missions like, 30 years from now, using a truck to haul a swarm of drones to directly cripple an enemy airfield.

“It’s alright.” Milton sighed and waved his hand. “Focus our reconnaissance efforts on the northwest side of our attack route, and the southwest side of Retaluleu City. We can temporarily reduce the intensity of reconnaissance in other areas. At the same time, continue to intensify the attack in this direction. I want to break through this region!”

"Roger that!"

Milton's objective was very clear: Retalu Leu Airport.

The road from Ciampellico to Retaluleu would normally lead directly to the airport, but government forces had already blasted the road and laid numerous landmines, so Milton's attack route was slightly to the east, essentially attacking from the southeast side of the city.

The airport is in the south, while Quetzaltenango is located in the north of the city.

In other words, if the local commander wants to retreat, he can only retreat in the opposite direction of the airport, which will inevitably weaken the defense of the airport area!
Why did Milton immediately try to get close to where the command post might be and create as much of a commotion as possible in the vicinity, even if it might create a dangerous salient?
Because he wanted to force the enemy command and guards to retreat towards Quetzaltenango!

This is the opportunity!
Once this area is breached, the airport will essentially become a government enclave, making logistical support extremely difficult. The defending forces and lines there will collapse on their own, almost without any fighting.

It's much better than a direct, head-on attack.

“They’re already launching a fierce attack.” The drone operator scratched his head. “Although they’re consciously using buildings for cover, we can still occasionally see people fleeing the airport area in a panic. Their defenses over there are definitely in trouble.”

"According to the estimates of the frontline soldiers, it will take at most 3 more hours for the troops to eliminate the enemy forces on the road, build a line of defense near the airport, and turn the airport into a complete enclave."

"It will take another 5 hours to fully control the highway from the command center to the airport."

"..."

well.

After summarizing the information, Milton turned to Flora, who was yawning, and said, "'Bottle,' get your men, get one of our most elite special operations platoons, bring the best equipment, and get ready to go."

"Send me three tanks and five armored vehicles from the front lines."

"Dragonfly take off, ready to attack ground targets at any time... Ignore any potential air defense fire, as long as the tactical objective can be achieved, losses are permissible, ejection is permissible."

"It's time to end this war."

Milton had barely finished speaking and hadn't even had time to put on his tactical helmet when a communications officer suddenly rushed to the door and knocked.

"Mr. 'The Godfather'!"

"what happened?"

"The resistance just reported to us on the situation at the front yesterday... They haven't requested reinforcements, but it seems the situation is far from optimistic!"

Milton nodded. "Anything else?"

The communications officer thought for a moment and then said, "There's one more small matter. Didn't you take in a refugee father and daughter before? The girl has already had surgery and is out of danger. She wrote a letter and asked a soldier to give it to you."

“We had it checked at the hospital, and the letter contains no toxins and is safe enough.”

Ever since Milton was poisoned, these people have become extremely nervous and easily frightened...

"What's in the letter?" Milton asked as he put on his bulletproof gear, casually replying, "Just open it and read it to me."

"I'll go get it, please wait a moment..."

“Uh… To the esteemed Mr. Milton, when I was beaten down by Lopez’s club, I thought I would die in the mud like my brother… Our lives were cursed… It was you who… I believed Lopez’s lies… It all mocks my past foolishness…”

"...My father has found a job, and I think I can find one too. Life here is wonderful, it's like heaven in the Bible. Perhaps you shouldn't use 'hell' in your name?"

"...I used to think that war would only leave hatred, but you brought bread, medicine and hope back to this city."

"..."

By the time Milton was fully equipped, he was covered in goosebumps—but the only thing that comforted him was that finally someone had objected to the nickname "Hell Tax Collector"!
So rare!

This is progress, this is a great victory!
“Alright, alright.” Milton waved his hand. “Tell her she doesn’t need to say all that, as long as she and her father pay their taxes on time.”

"Tell the rebels to hold on a little longer."

“'Wine bottle,' let’s go.”

As he spoke, Milton glanced at the panel, checking his remaining points and financial situation—this battle had left him practically bankrupt.

He urged, "Hurry up, I'm out of money."

……

Vevetenango, north bank of the Seguara River.

Inside the National Revolutionary Alliance Army headquarters, Lak, holding binoculars, hid behind a well-concealed bunker and gazed into the distance across the river.

Even after countless battles, he still felt a sense of unease and tension.

The government forces, or rather López's private army disguised as the Guatemalan Second Infantry Brigade, have launched a full-scale offensive in the early morning.

The other side has pontoon bridges, boats, and tanks, and unlike before, this time they have protected these equipment very well.

While the resistance was being bombarded by howitzers, the enemy's engineers even built a temporary dock on the pier!
Within a distance of less than 400 meters, the rebels launched several counterattacks and engaged in several sporadic frontal firefights with government forces in an attempt to hinder the establishment of the small dock. After suffering some casualties, they killed quite a few enemy soldiers.

Ultimately, they were unable to prevent the construction of the dock.

"The high level of ammunition supply is a real disadvantage..." Lak was very troubled. "If we force an attack on this small dock and waste too much ammunition, we won't be able to continue fighting."

Even if the dock is indeed demolished, the enemy still has pontoon bridges, amphibious armored vehicles, and various boats, which will at most slightly affect the efficiency of river crossing operations.

Milton's reckless airlift could only solve the problem of building up the resistance from scratch, but there was still a serious shortage in quantity, and the use of every bullet had to be carefully calculated.

Demolishing the docks would be putting the cart before the horse; not demolishing them would mean watching the enemy consolidate their advantage. As the supreme commander, Lak felt incredibly frustrated.

On the other hand, the other side is the complete opposite.

The machine guns relentlessly swept across the open ground, but every time they fired a shot, they were met with a barrage of fire from mortars and even howitzers from further behind.

One soldier, unable to lift his head from the beating, said with a mixture of frustration and anger, "Boss, let's fight them!"

"Don't rush!" Lak growled through gritted teeth. "Hiding isn't cowardice. Being willing to do anything for ultimate victory is true courage! We must win. After more than 30 years of civil war, this is the closest we've ever come. Don't let your courage ruin everything we've achieved!"

"I believe Juan... the enemy doesn't know their howitzer positions have been exposed!"

Sometimes, what appears to be heroic behavior is actually a form of fear of facing reality.

After another round of indiscriminate firing, through Lak's binoculars, the government soldiers who had been standing still suddenly began to move.

One of the teams, followed by a tank platoon consisting of a T-62 and two AMX-13s, left the reverse slope used as cover and began to approach the dock.

Are we about to cross the river?

The moment the thought crossed Lak's mind, the government forces' mortar positions opened fire, raining down shells on the rebel positions—no one had ever seen such intense shelling since the start of the war!

Unlike in the past when they would fire one or two shells and then cease fire and move to a new position, this time the enemy was firing continuously!
"Prepare for battle!"

The guard company commander looked up excitedly and said, "This is an opportunity! The enemy is constantly exposing their positions, so our mortars can counterattack and wipe out many of their artillery positions in one go!"

With Milton's support, the rebels managed to amass some artillery, but not many.

"No!" Lak was equally anxious, but he remained remarkably calm. "The enemy deliberately exposed themselves; they definitely have more artillery hidden... The enemy intends to trade blows with us! If we counterattack now, we might be able to achieve an exchange ratio of 1:3 or higher, but the enemy can afford to trade, while we can't!"

"Artillery must be used when it is more important."

"This is a trap! The government forces have a mastermind on their side."

"Do not retaliate. As long as the enemy does not cross the river, we must not take any action."

As expected, the government troops on the other side of the river only made a show of action, loitering around the dock without making any move to cross the river.

Only after confirming that there was no sign of resistance from the rebels did the three tanks finally turn around and head towards the dock. The nearby infantrymen jumped onto the speedboats on the riverbank, adjusted the muzzles of their heavy machine guns, and aimed them at the riverbank.

The speedboat engine is ignited.

The government forces' river-crossing operation has officially begun.

(End of this chapter)