Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 197 Smoked Bacon
The enemy darted straight into the cave, which, to be honest, caught Milton somewhat off guard.

Despite their teammates' flowery words, claiming that the cave's environment was more complex than a tunnel, with many passages leading to it and making it difficult to find them again once inside... in reality, the "Grey Wolves'" actions could be seen as a life-or-death gamble.

Cave exploration is an "extreme sport," and one of the most dangerous extreme sports. These exhausted "gray wolves" go in unprepared, and the risks are unknown—who knows which route leads to the next cave entrance?
If you encounter a puddle, should you go across it or not?
With so many people going in at once, won't the oxygen be depleted quickly?

Under no circumstances would a rational commander make the decision to drill a tunnel... This also shows that the enemy was unprepared and had no plan; they were indeed driven into a dead end.

Even if Milton immediately gave up the pursuit and simply guarded the cave entrance, it's uncertain how many of these "gray wolves" would survive.

"Putting everything else aside, at least Ross is a man of some decisiveness." Milton glanced down below. "He's trying to gamble on that sliver of hope."

The others had no intention of letting these people go: "How do we pursue them next?"

Milton first looked at Ismailia and asked simply, "Do you know any native hunters in this area? People who are familiar with the terrain?"

Ishimaya paused for a moment, then shook her head and said, "There are some that are somewhat familiar... but the very familiar ones are gone. After these 'Grey Wolves' brought the government troops to this land, no one could survive here."

The few survivors all managed to escape to the rebel-occupied territory and barely survive.

Soon, the helicopter landed, and Milton and his group got off the plane and saw Juan, who looked exhausted but whose eyes were shining.

Milton nodded at him and asked, "You don't know the details, but what about the general situation? For example, is there a huge cave system nearby? Someone should know something like that, right?"

Juan glanced at the heavily guarded cave entrance, where any carbon-based life form would be instantly obliterated if it appeared, and took a few deep breaths: "There aren't any large cave systems here, and because it's close to the Seguala River, most of these caves are submerged in water, so there aren't many paths for people without diving equipment to navigate."

"That's good."

Milton took two steps forward and glanced into the cave.

He wanted to see whether the cave was generally facing upwards or downwards—if it was upwards, he would release smoke; if it was downwards, he would pour liquid into it.

However, luck wasn't on Milton's side this time, because at a glance, it was indeed difficult to discern the specific layout of the cave.

If we go any deeper, we are likely to be ambushed by the "gray wolves" or fall into their traps.

Flora glanced at it as well and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Forget it, let's use the clumsy method." Milton actually had a lot of unscrupulous ideas in his mind. "Go, send UH-1 back and haul a pump over."

"The smoke-generating materials are very simple—black powder, fireworks, smoke bombs, rubber tires, anything you can think of, bring them all over here. I want to smoke them out of their rat holes one by one, like rats!"

Flora had no concept of tunnels. She peeked into the cave again and asked a crucial question: "This cave looks quite large. Are we producing enough smoke?"

Milton glanced at her and said, “To make an enclosed indoor environment suffocating, you don’t actually need to fill it with exhaust fumes and toxic gases…it takes far less than you think.”

“My smoke-generating materials produce only carbon monoxide, sulfur dioxide, nitrogen oxides, and tiny particulate matter. The concentration of carbon monoxide and nitrogen oxides only needs to be 50 ppm (parts per million), and the concentration of sulfur dioxide only needs to be as low as 10 ppm to be lethal enough.”

Milton only listed a small portion of the harmful gases; in fact, when that whole bunch of stuff was burned, the pollution was terrifying beyond imagination, with a wide variety of exhaust gases.

"Not to mention particulate matter, after it burns, it is pumped in by the pumps, which will surely give the 'Grey Wolves' a supercharged version of the London smog."

"Not to mention that igniting something consumes a lot of oxygen."

"Just a little bit of smoke-generating material is enough to force this 'gray wolf' to flee in a sorry state. I was even worried that there might be too much smoke-generating material and that it might accidentally suffocate the people inside."

After Milton finished explaining, he suddenly seemed to remember something and quickly added the order: "By the way, after you bring those smoke-generating materials here, remember to take them to the riverbank and wet them a little... Many of these things are explosives, and if you don't add water, they'll blow up our pumps!"

"Roger that!"

"Action! Action! These Americans have interfered in our war and helped the government forces massacre us. It's time to teach them a lesson!"

"Ha! When the Americans came to this land, they slaughtered us who originally lived here, and they even called us Indians. Now it's almost the 21st century, and their methods haven't changed at all."

"Now we are the victors!"

As they spoke, the soldiers cast grateful glances at Milton.

If it weren't for the "hellish tax collectors," let alone today's counter-pursuit, the resistance would probably be on the verge of breaking through their lines by now, and then they would be facing an indiscriminate massacre of at least 10 people...

The soldiers on site, especially Juan and his group, worked very hard. Even though they hadn't slept for so long, they still forced their tired eyelids open and used their knives to cut some branches and leaves and pile them up at the entrance of the cave.

After about half an hour of activity, several transport planes first airdropped some rubber materials and fireworks.

A dozen minutes later, a UH-1 also flew over, carrying a pump and a generator.

The soldiers immediately stepped forward, prepared the smoke-generating materials, and sealed the cave entrance with various debris to ensure the pump could produce the best results.

Milton immediately put on his gas mask and ordered, "Ignite!"

Wow!

The soldiers, who had been waiting impatiently, immediately rushed forward, first lighting the most flammable materials at the bottom, and then piling on top the various black powder, tires and other items at hand.

Soon, large amounts of toxic fumes, generated by the combustion, were pumped deep into the cave by the activated pumps.

Milton turned and jumped into the helicopter, shouting, "Everyone else, search the area immediately for any smoking holes!"

"Block all these entrances; we can't let even one of these 'gray wolves' escape!"

"Roger that!"

"..."

……

Deep in the cave.

After silently placing a Claymore mine at another corner, Ross turned two corners and arrived at a cave that was of a fairly decent size.

Four "gray wolves" were gathered in this cave.

After a short rest, the other "gray wolves" followed the air currents to try and find an exit to escape the terrifying pursuers behind them.

Of course, there's also the intention to make the most of the precious oxygen inside the cave.

Of the four gray wolves, one lay on the ground, his chest a mess, panting heavily, muttering a low groan: "Ugh... I... I'm suffocating..."

Ross walked up to him with a gloomy expression and glanced at him.

During their escape, many "Grey Wolves" were killed by heavy machine guns and cannons, but this "Grey Wolf" was a little luckier; his heavy bulletproof vest saved his life.

The machine gun bullet that hit him didn't kill him, but it pierced his lung.

He struggled into the cave, but his injuries were very serious—an open pneumothorax.

Despite the use of morphine and pneumothorax patches, the wolf's injuries continued to worsen over time.

“We have to get out of here right away. Once we’re out, we need to call a medical plane immediately.” Ross glanced behind him. “Milton’s men don’t seem to be chasing us. Let’s rest for another 15 minutes, eat something, and replenish our strength.”

He set up a very insidious triple trap in a very treacherous corner of the cave. As long as the pursuers went to that place, they would almost certainly trigger the trap.

It hasn't been triggered yet, which means they haven't followed.

Another gray wolf said somberly, "We're safe now, at least for the time being."

“Milton is no ordinary man; he’s incredibly capable, far more capable than either of us can imagine.” Ross sat down against the wall, removing his bulletproof vest and tossing it to the ground. “Once we get out, I have to remind that good-for-nothing Eric to be careful from now on…”

Eric is the agent who signed the non-aggression pact with Milton regarding toilet paper.

After the huge scandal was exposed, he, as one of the local officials, was immediately summoned back to the country to be questioned and subjected to an internal investigation.

"Eric...has he taken care of all his own troubles?"

Ross sneered, "They say he got through safely... I wonder what benefits he gave up. But it doesn't matter anymore. Clinton is completely finished in the midterm elections, things are going to get chaotic."

"It's not just us; Latin America, especially Mexico, is also in turmoil... The effects of the North American Free Trade Agreement will soon become apparent."

"The civil war that Guatemala was supposed to stop has escalated to an unprecedented level in just a few months. What's even more frightening is that the rebels... or perhaps they should be called the resistance now, have won."

"Heh... Perhaps President Arsu will have to reluctantly acknowledge Milton's position."

"It doesn't matter. Milton won this time, but he has even more messes to clean up and more enemies—does he think he's invincible just because he got the port? Does he think he can protect his shipping lanes? Ha!"

"I don't even need to think about it, Arsu will definitely find pirates, no, he might even have his men disguised as pirates to rob Milton's shipping lanes."

"And what about Mexico... Does he think he can control Tapachula so easily?"

"I got inside information that because the various drug cartels have been severely damaged, a new drug lord is rapidly rising... What's his name again, Elmenjohn? Hey, Milton took down Lopez, only to find himself surrounded by enemies, and these enemies are even stronger. He's furious!"

"Not necessarily... What if Milton, with the resistance forces and absolute power in the new government, negotiates peace with Arsu?"

"He can't negotiate peace! I've calculated it. With Milton's military strength, he should have gone bankrupt long ago. He's just holding on. I've said it many times: if we can hold out a little longer, Milton will collapse on his own. But the government forces don't believe me at all, haha."

“Milton wants to maintain this size and strength of his army, and he certainly won’t be satisfied with, nor can he be satisfied with, the current territory. Unless he’s willing to sink all his planes into the sea or leave them at the airport as scrap metal!”

"After I get back home, I must keep up with the news here. I want to see how Milton suffocated amidst all the pressure..."

"..."

The "gray wolves" here discuss current affairs, both to pass the time and to relieve their stress and tension.

Originally, they got a project that could have made a fortune thanks to their connections with a former CIA member, but they ended up in such dire straits... It's inevitable that everyone has developed a certain psychological shadow over this land and their adversaries.

If I don't talk about something else, it's really hard to stay calm.

Ross wasn't interested in any of this. He tore open a bag of cookies, coated them with apple jam, and stuffed them into his mouth, mumbling, "Let it be a mess, it's none of our business anymore... We've taken what we were entitled to, I don't care how badly we've messed up this place." Haven't they already messed up enough places?
“Indeed.” One of the “gray wolves” felt much better, thinking that the pursuers had given up and they would soon be able to go home and divide the loot. “How much money will each of us get this time?”

Ross casually calculated in his mind and said, "The legal income over the past two years is about $40 per person, plus some dirty money... If we divide it up, each of you will have about $120 million in total."

This is the advantage of contracting a project; even a small portion of the budget can be a huge slice of the pie.

One of the "gray wolves" blurted out without thinking, "Such a huge loss isn't entirely without its benefits...at least there are fewer people sharing the dirty money. They can only get their legal income and compensation, hahaha, the rest can only be divided among the survivors!"

"Hahahaha..." Another "Grey Wolf" laughed along, but after laughing several times, he suddenly realized that there was a seriously wounded comrade next to them. "Hey, brother, just kidding, don't worry!"

There are only a few of them in the cave now. Killing a seriously wounded man would not only rid them of a burden, but also give them a larger share of the money. It's hard not to be tempted.

However, Rose ultimately did not do so.

Although he was very disdainful, a team should never be led like this, at least not openly. If he shot and killed the wounded soldier today, the "Grey Wolf" mercenary group could be disbanded tomorrow.

Because these people will no longer have any trust in each other.

Ross patted the soldier whose eyes were filled with fear and comforted him with a smile, "Brother, don't worry! The air here is circulating, which means there must be an entrance. The brothers ahead are already scouting ahead, and we'll have results soon."

Another "gray wolf" finished his biscuit and said, "We just checked your condition. Fortunately, it hasn't formed a flap yet. If you can hold on, there shouldn't be any major problems."

"Yeah yeah."

Ross considered the time for a moment, then took out some morphine from the first-aid kit and gave him another injection.

Just then, the "gray wolf" suddenly started coughing uncontrollably!

It's important to know that morphine has a powerful cough-suppressing effect!

Ross frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

The "gray wolf" struggled to raise its hand, pointed to its lungs, and, enduring the intense pain, said, "I... I'm suffocating..."

"How could that be?" Ross frowned. "You're alright."

"The air...it seems...something's not right..."

Ross paused, then sniffed: "It's just the smell of gunpowder... wait, this gunpowder smell seems to be a bit too strong?"

Before the words were even finished, a scene unfolded that terrified everyone in the cave.

In the dim light, a large cloud of white mist, mixed with terrifying particles, surged forth!

Following closely behind was a cloud of black smoke that was clearly not to be inhaled at all!

They spread so quickly that what was just a slightly strong smell of gunpowder suddenly became incredibly stimulating!

Even Ross, whose respiratory system was perfectly normal, felt a strong sense of suffocation at this moment—not only physically, but also psychologically!
Milton, that madman, that pervert... He never gave up the pursuit, he just used a more vicious method!

Just then, two "gray wolves" suddenly appeared in the passage ahead, their faces filled with excitement: "Boss, this way! There should be an exit this way!"

Then he looked at the scene inside the cave and froze.

"This, this is?!"

"Go quickly!"

"Milton is a madman, he's planning to suffocate us with smoke, let's get out of here!"

Ross didn't even have time to pick up the heavy bulletproof vest that had been thrown aside. He struggled to his feet and immediately ran toward the exit.

Before leaving, he glanced briefly at his fallen comrade.

"Let's go, boss!"

"His lips have turned cyanotic, he's beyond saving, let's go!"

Ross said no more, grabbed his gun, and ran outside!
If he doesn't run now, even he himself won't be able to escape.

Whether it was due to excessive tension or inhaling too much toxic gas, Ross was already feeling dizzy.

"Are there other people scouting in other directions? Should we call them along too?"

Ross gritted his teeth: "We didn't bring gas masks!"

The "gray wolves" were fleeing for their lives, and their planned escape route was always in open outdoor areas, so they didn't need to wear gas masks to increase their already precious limited load.

Going to call for help would most likely result in being suffocated to death and turning into smoked bacon.

"Then, let's retreat..."

"Find some cloth, wet it with water, and cover your mouth and nose... They not only released poison gas, but also dust!"

The group of people, who were running for their lives, immediately took out water bottles, wet their sleeves, covered their mouths and noses, and then continued to walk forward.

As Ross followed along, he subconsciously counted the number of people.

Six people... The entire "Grey Wolf" mercenary group is now down to its last six members.

The elite troops he had built up were almost completely wiped out in such an extremely humiliating manner.

Ross's hatred for Milton had reached its peak—he finally understood how much the slaughtered villages, the survivors, and the rebels hated him.

"Run! ...cough cough!" Ross put his left hand on the "gray wolf" in front of him and said, "Once the fighting on the front lines is over, we won't be able to escape even more!"

"It's just ahead, just around the corner!"

"We're here, we're here, we're out, we succeeded..."

Before he could finish speaking, Ross suddenly felt a bright light before his eyes, followed by a dazzling sensation!
An extremely powerful searchlight was shone in.

"Don't move! Everyone, don't move! Put down your weapons, take off your clothes, and kneel down, or we will open fire immediately! Repeat, don't move, you are surrounded."

Ross was taken aback and looked around... When he saw the smoke rising from the cave entrance, he finally understood what was going on.

I understand my destiny.

"Haha...hahaha!"

"What the hell are you laughing at?" A rebel soldier stepped forward, his eyes filled with intense hatred, and kicked Ross to the ground. "You're the one who ordered the massacre of the city during the march, right? Now the roles are reversed, and you can't accept it, can you?!"

The others quickly went up and disarmed the "gray wolves," then surrounded them.

"Back to work! Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector' is here!"

Only then did the soldier suppress the deep hatred in his eyes and return to his unit.

Da da da……

The sound of a helicopter came through. Ross knelt on the ground and saw the dust blown onto his face by the wind. He also saw a pair of boots walking towards him and finally stopping in front of him.

The "Hell Tax Collector" has arrived.

He never imagined that he would have his first meeting with Milton in this way.

"Cough! Cough! Milton, you must be feeling pretty smug right now, aren't you?" Ross didn't look up. "Celebrate your victory, and then face your enemies!"

"You've messed with all the drug cartels in the north, and to the south there's a warlord alliance that's about to band together... Plus, the CIA is already completely targeting you!"

"Once this force is united..."

"Taking you down will only take a moment!"

Milton looked at the man at his feet, initially not wanting to pay him any attention, but a piece of information suddenly flashed through his mind.

The captured "Grey Wolf" named George said that Ross was gay and preferred to be on the bottom...

Without thinking, Milton blurted out, "That's twice as long as George said he could fuck you in bed."

The atmosphere in the originally serious interrogation room suddenly froze.

Flora's shoulders twitched violently a few times, and her expression became incredibly complex—perfectly capturing the feeling of wanting to laugh out loud but being unable to.

Even the remaining "gray wolves" almost burst out laughing!

Ross broke through the defenses at lightning speed, suddenly looked up, and shouted hoarsely, "Milton, you bastard who deserves to go to the eighteenth level of hell! I curse you, you motherfucker...you, you...you son of a bitch!"

"you***"

"********"

"..."

Milton was delighted to see Ross break down, so he stomped on Ross's head, burying his face in the mud.

"Alright, time is of the essence."

"I need to get some useful information from you right away, and I hope you'll cooperate well—like you cooperate with George in bed, okay?"

P.S.: It hurts so much! I'm almost losing consciousness!
(End of this chapter)