Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 215 Beijing View
zizi...

Milton watched the fire department working on the damaged helicopters on the helipad and casually asked, "By the way, if I kill these people who drink ayahuasca, will the sharks become addicted to it after they eat them?"

No one knew who Milton was asking, but Flora said anyway, "Probably not. Actually, I think the biggest problem right now is that you need to calculate how much it will cost to repair this passenger ship."

The passenger ship was not damaged much overall, except that the helipad was hit by a propeller and a rolling helicopter, and there may be some marks on the hull from machine gun fire.

However, to get it repaired without having your deposit forfeited, it would still cost tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Milton said coldly, "...The cult is paying for this. Enough of that, has the high priest been recruited yet?"

After capturing the high priest, several soldiers immediately dragged him into the cabin and, without saying a word, subjected him to torture—just like Milton's style, torturing him before questioning him.

And a passenger ship is never short of instruments of torture.

For example, the "household waste" of all the passengers on this ship cannot be directly discharged into the sea...

A high priest might not be able to handle much garbage, but Milton would never mind trying to explore the limits of how much human beings can handle household waste.

As expected, the high priest confessed quickly.

What's even more ridiculous is that this time the panel directly confirmed the accuracy of the information without selling any further detailed information.

In other words, this high priest revealed almost everything he could.

Flora nodded: "He's confessed everything. No matter how much we interrogate him, we can't get any more information out of him. We put him on a lie detector test, and it seems he really did tell us everything he could. However, the High Priest certainly doesn't tell everything to the High Priests. He might still have some tricks up his sleeve."

Milton waved his hand: "If his backup plan were really that useful, I wouldn't have beaten him so badly when he attacked first... This time I deployed the entire navy, most of the air force, and the army has sent special forces across the 'borderline' to cooperate with our operation."

"Police have organized a joint enforcement team to enter all the marked villages and take coercive measures against all the stubborn individuals who are still not cooperating."

“These past few days I have done a lot of propaganda work among the people there, and I have also used air power to deter them and drive away the cult leaders... If even this cannot change the stance of some people, then there is no need to change their stance.”

"They are the enemy."

"My attitude toward the enemy has always been the same—to exterminate them completely."

After he finished speaking, the UH-1 in the sky finally took its place and slowly landed on the somewhat cramped tarmac.

“Let’s go.” Milton climbed into the cabin first. “It’s time to completely eradicate this cancer.”

Flora boarded the plane right after, patting the others on the shoulder as she said, "Hopefully, the fine—the property of an entire church—will alleviate the financial burden a little."

Everyone knows that Milton has mobilized all available funds for this operation.

If we don't achieve anything, we'll be paralyzed for quite some time.

But Milton still spoke up, saying, "Try to leave a few alive to squeeze some money out of them. If that doesn't work, just kill them all... Set a time. If we can't take them down within two hours, then forget about the money. Killing them is the most important thing."

"We are conducting special operations in the occupied territory of Arsu, and we cannot drag this out for too long."

"receive……"

beep...

The helicopter took off.

It's already November, and because it's close to the equator and not at a high altitude like Guatemala City, the temperature is quite pleasant, with daytime temperatures reaching 24 degrees Celsius.

With the sea breeze blowing, Milton took one last look at the passenger ship as it gradually disappeared into the distance.

Many guests were standing on their balconies, waving frantically at the helicopter in the sky, and some even appeared to be cheering loudly.

In short, there was no fear on anyone's face; on the contrary, the vast majority of passengers on the cruise ship were extremely satisfied with the arrangements for this last day...

“I’m worrying about them unnecessarily…” Milton looked away and muttered, “Let’s go, let’s go!”

……

Suchet-Pex province, the stronghold of the original Voodoo religion.

"Ah...you people, you deserve to die..."

"Even if I go to hell, I won't let you go..."

"..."

The high priest trampled on the skull beneath his feet, looking at the spurting blood and the dying man on the ground, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

"Your pain and despair will please the gods."

After making a sarcastic remark, the high priest looked at the tormented woman, wanting to ask her how it felt to watch her husband being skinned alive.

"High Priestess, she... she seems to have bitten her tongue and committed suicide..."

The high priest immediately lost interest and shook his head: "The gods will torture the suicide victim in the cruelest way. Let her be."

Upon hearing this, the man, who was already on the verge of death and barely had the strength to howl, suddenly raised his head and cursed with his last ounce of strength: "'Hell's Tax Collector' will come. He may not know me, but he will definitely avenge me..."

"Unfortunately, the blasphemer you speak of is about to face annihilation," the high priest said with a faint, mocking tone. "Perhaps it won't be long before you all..."

Before the words were even finished, a high priest rushed over, looking somewhat terrified: "High Priest!"

The high priest frowned, waved his hand to signal the executioners to kill the man, then turned around and asked, "What's the matter? Why are you in such a hurry?"

“Theodore has not contacted us yet, and it has been more than 3 minutes past the agreed time.”

Theodore was the high priest who boarded the helicopter to film the terrorist attack.

In order to keep the church headquarters in touch with the latest information, the high priests agreed to contact the helicopter every once in a while.

Everything was fine before. There might be slight discrepancies in the timing of our contact, but it would never exceed one minute.

But this time, it lasted a full three minutes.

The high priest had a bad feeling. He waved his hand, beckoning everyone to walk towards the parking lot, and asked, "Have you tried contacting them first? Have you tried?"

"I've tried everything, but there's been no response."

“Then let’s retreat.” The High Priest waved his hand. “Theodore knows almost all our secrets. We must prepare for the worst. Let’s move now.”

The high priest spoke very casually.

Because their parking lot is not far away, and off-road vehicles that transport people and off-road trucks that transport various items are all there.

It would only take them 30 minutes to set off, and at most an hour, they could disappear completely from this fishing village.

What can Milton do in an hour?

Even if the passenger ship could withstand the sudden attack and Theodore confessed in a short time, by the time the passenger ship reported to the port, the port reported to the Milton military government, the military government reported to the higher-ups, the higher-ups relayed the rescue and attack orders, and the airport urgently loaded the Su-25s that happened to be deployed at the front-line airport with missiles, it would probably take more than an hour for them to arrive.

It has been only 20 minutes since we lost contact.

The high priest simply quickened his pace and walked towards the parking lot, showing no sign of panic.

"Pack your things first, and leave within 15 minutes if possible." The high priest gave the most conservative order. "Destroy anything you can't pack on the spot."

35 minutes is a very conservative estimate. Even if the Pan Madre Group is relatively flat, it's not enough time for them to do anything.

Everyone remained calm and organized, packing their belongings and loading them onto the truck.

The high priest wasn't even in a hurry to put the Mayan artifact that had been looted from the tomb into the car. Instead, he laid out all the so-called "sacred objects," including the new one on the ground, and began to admire them carefully.

However, just as they were packing their things, a terrifying sound of an engine tearing through the sky suddenly came from above.

At this point, less than 10 minutes had passed since the high priest issued the evacuation order!

Many people looked up in bewilderment, only to be met with a scene that terrified them!

Two fighter jets with high aspect ratio trapezoidal straight wings approached from the sky at extremely high speeds, close to the speed of sound—the target was very clear: this small fishing village!
Everyone recognizes these two planes!

The Pan Madre Group Aerospace Forces' greatest pride is represented by two SU-25 attack aircraft, symbolizing Milton's dominance of the skies.

When the two planes were mentioned in the interview, everyone there straightened their backs.

"How is that possible?!" The high priest was stunned. "How long has it been? Milton couldn't possibly have kept his plane flying along the border until it ran out of fuel, had to return to the airport to refuel, and then take off again, could he?"

Otherwise, how can this arrangement be explained?

"High Priest, run!"

Airplanes may look slow from the air, but they only take a few seconds to get overhead!
The next instant, a series of S8-O rockets were launched from the plane, whistling towards the parking lot!

Boom boom boom...

The parking lot, filled with various vehicles, was instantly engulfed in flames. The violent explosion ignited the gasoline inside the vehicles and nearby, triggering a second, more intense explosion!
After the first wave of attacks, they completed a large roll and turn in the air. One of them continued to attack the remaining vehicles in the parking lot, while the other bombed the dock of the small fishing village, turning the dock into a sea of ​​fire.

These two fastest attack aircraft, which arrived at the battlefield first, had a very clear objective: to unleash all their firepower on the vehicles and ignore the personnel who were easily dispersed.

"Hide! Hide!" The high priest finally disregarded his image, clutching the most precious Mayan artifact, and staggered into the room, crawling under the table, hoping the bombs wouldn't fall on his head.

A high priest also rushed in and hid under the same table, asking fearfully, "High Priest, what should we do now?"

At this moment, the high priest was already cursing in his heart.

I should have stayed in Guatemala City, no matter what excuse I used, and never come to this godforsaken place!

If it weren't for the high priest's assurance that the plan was foolproof, that this was another victory for the original Voodoo religion in overcoming the crisis of extinction, that it needed to be recorded in the holy scriptures in the presence of all the high priests, that he would be ranked among the greatest high priests in the church, and that all members of the high priestly order would be recorded in history, making everyone incredibly excited, most people actually wouldn't have wanted to come.

If a similar situation arises again, he definitely won't be able to refuse!
But the problem now is, how do we escape?

The high priest swallowed hard and said, "It's alright... This isn't Milton's controlled territory. Even without vehicles, we can run on foot!"

"Airplanes will eventually run out of ammunition, and Arsu will not stand idly by while Milton invades!"

"There's a chance to escape even on foot!"

The high priest's emotions finally calmed down a bit.

"Then we'll wait until the bombing is over and then evacuate immediately..."

They didn't have to wait long.

After the explosions at the parking lot and dock subsided, the high priest quickly ran out, intending to first run into the nearby woods and then head towards the heart of the Arsu-occupied territory.

But the high priest's plan failed.

The fire in the parking lot had not yet been extinguished, and the contrails of two SU-25s still lingered in the sky. The Dragonfly attack aircraft squadron, which was slightly slower, rushed to the battlefield.

Their target was still not the personnel already scattered on the ground. After randomly firing heavy machine guns at the ground, they flew straight to the back and dropped a series of "bombs".

The moment those "bombs" hit the ground, pillars of fire rose up carrying various highly toxic gases.

A wall of fire, a source of utter despair, blocked their escape route.

The intense, scorching heat swept over them, extinguishing the hopes of many like a bucket of cold water. Milton's most terrifying aspect was Satan's spittle—the napalm bomb!
All escape routes will be firmly locked by this wall of fire for at least 10 minutes. You can either run forward towards Milton's occupied territory, jump into the sea, or wait in place for 10 minutes.

All three options are essentially suicidal.

Do not……

The high priest looked at the raging fire before him, his eyes showing panic, but he quickly suppressed it with composure.

Milton's decision not to throw napalm directly into the village indicates that he had sufficient confidence and resources, or at least enough assurance, to capture the entire church leadership, or even take them alive.

This somewhat overconfident move might just buy them a sliver of hope...

The high priest, no longer bothering with the obscure religious terminology, glanced at the squadron of planes overhead and shouted, "Milton wants to capture us! This is our opportunity!"

"With such a commotion here, Arsu couldn't possibly have missed it!"

"Delay it a little, and things will take a turn for the better!"

"..."

After the Dragonfly attack aircraft squadron dropped their bombs and carried out a rough skirmish over the village, taking down a few unlucky survivors, a third squadron appeared in the sky.

No... that's not just about the fleet anymore.

An-24 transport planes and several helicopters flew toward them from different directions, and they could see fully armed soldiers parachuting or rappelling.

Milton's ground troops have arrived?!
The high priest, far from being alarmed, was delighted: "Gentlemen, take up your guns and defend our faith! If we can hold out for these next few hours, Arsu's troops will surely arrive, and then we will be the ones to encircle Milton's forces!"

"The enemy is too arrogant and overconfident; this is our chance!"

After speaking, the high priest ordered everyone present to take up arms and use the most basic method to fortify the village layer by layer, hoping to use the advantages of the buildings and the line of sight to block the enemy from one side to the other, seemingly in an attempt to delay the arrival of reinforcements.

Those who were forced to take up arms really wanted to ask: if Milton found that the siege was unsuccessful, wouldn't he have continued bombing?
He was probably just trying to capture them alive first. If he couldn't capture them, could he expect that madman to just let this group of people trapped in the fishing village go?
Furthermore, regarding Arsu's aid, the two sides hadn't communicated beforehand. How could the High Priest be so certain that aid would come? And why would he trust Arsu, an ally who wasn't exactly reliable?

However, since the high priest had given such an order, everyone put aside their doubts, picked up their weapons, and went to their designated defensive positions.

But one of the high priests seemed to have figured something out. He lingered for a while, and after everyone around him had left, he suddenly asked, "High Priest, perhaps what you are waiting for is not Arsu's aid at all, is it?"

“This is too vague and the timing is too uncertain... Moreover, you usually have a backup plan when you do things, and I don’t think that backup plan will be ‘Arsu’.”

The high priest turned around, gave the senior priest a deep look, and then readily admitted, "Yes."

“At this point, I think it would be better if you stopped hiding it,” the high priest said slowly. “The church is at a critical juncture of life and death.”

The high priest glanced at the entrance, looked at the people who were already in position, ready to resist Milton's offensive, thought for a moment, and nodded, saying, "Alright... it's actually very simple. When I bought the assault boats from Arsu, I used my own money to buy an extra one."

"This ship is not in the attack sequence. It is floating further back at sea and only obeys my orders. In case of any unforeseen circumstances, once the airspace is safe, it will come to the dock as a last resort for retreat."

"Arsu may be reliable, or he may not be... but in any case, I cannot wait for his rescue."

The high priest sensed something and pressed further, "A ship?"

"Yes."

"But there are too many people here; one assault boat simply cannot accommodate them all."

The high priest stomped on the skull: "So, I sent them to the front."

The high priest remained silent for a moment, then acquiesced to the high priest's decision, but still raised his final concern: "How can we get the men in front to willingly hold out and delay Milton's army, instead of trying to seize our ships or even sniping us from behind?"

“After they arrive, the people on the assault boats will identify themselves as ‘Arsu’,” the high priest said, glancing at the sky. “They will shout that this is only the first wave of reinforcements, responsible for taking away important figures. They will tell the others to hold on a little longer, and more reinforcements will arrive.”

The high priest understood: "That's the only way."

“As long as we are here, the church can be rebuilt.” The high priest glanced at the sky again. “Milton’s plane has left; this is the window of opportunity I need to exploit!”

Boom boom boom…

"what--"

As they spoke, gunshots and screams began to ring out from the area surrounding the fishing village.

Milton's special forces have advanced to the outskirts of the small fishing village!
Given the disparity in strength, firepower, and information between the two sides, the defensive line will collapse in no time.

Just as the high priest was experiencing inevitable anxiety, an assault boat was speeding along the coastline.

The high priest immediately picked up the Mayan artifact in his hand, and an unprecedented sense of relief appeared on his face: "See? I told you they would come. Pack your things, we're getting ready to board the ship!"

The dock was bombed, but boarding the ship was still possible after wading a short distance.

But the high priest couldn't care less about any of that. He picked up his things, pushed open the door, and prepared to leave.

After observing the battle situation outside the village, the high priest even lingered for several minutes longer, allowing several high-ranking priests he trusted to also take their belongings and follow along.

As he had predicted, the time lost was simply not enough for a small number of special forces to break through the defenses.

Goodbye, Milton...

There's still a fight to be made in the future!

The high priest used a pre-prepared excuse to comfort the others, then turned and ran towards the assault boat.

The people on the assault boat were about to shout nonsense like "Arsu reinforcements will be here soon," as originally planned.

Suddenly, a loud "boom"... no, several loud "booms"!
A fireball exploded directly on the assault boat, and the powerful shockwave blew the high priest into the air, where he crashed heavily to the ground.

He managed to lift his head and saw a warship with two main guns breaking through the water in the distance!

The warship had gradually turned sideways, and its two dark main guns were emitting white smoke!

Perhaps due to poor coordination and lack of experience, only one main gun shell hit the target in this salvo, while the other main gun and rocket launcher hit other areas.

But this crucial shell took away the last hope of survival for the original Voodoo cult.

The "Tax Scorpion" turned completely sideways.

Two main guns, a 6-barrel 30mm rapid-fire cannon, a 140mm rocket launcher, and a grenade launcher with an extremely high rate of fire opened fire in an instant, unleashing all their firepower on the small fishing village that was still putting up a last-ditch resistance!
The sound of explosions was incessant.

At this moment, the gunboat, weighing only a few hundred tons, exuded the aura of a battleship firing a salvo!
The cultists who were still resisting looked blankly at the various shells falling from the sky, and could only watch helplessly as the explosives rained down.

The outer defenses of the small fishing village were instantly reduced to dust!

The morale of the remaining cult members in the inner circle collapsed immediately.

With bombing raids and warships coming to our doorstep, this is almost as big as an attack by the Americans, isn't it?

"Surrender!" A high priest immediately lowered his weapon and raised his hands above his head. "I surrender! Don't kill me, I can pay the taxes!"

"I surrender too..."

“‘Hell Tax Collector,’ please have your warships cease fire!”

"..."

Various noises filled his ears, and it took the high priest an unknown amount of time to regain consciousness. As soon as he struggled to get up, he saw that Milton's special forces had completely occupied the fishing village.

The madman, whom he himself called "Khorne," was holding a blood-stained newspaper and looking at it intently.

Brandon walked over and kicked the high priest in the face with the sole of his shoe.

"It's you who spends all day spreading rumors about the great 'Hell Tax Collector,' giving him nasty nicknames, right? The 'Hell Tax Collector' dislikes people who spread rumors the most!"

Milton's lips twitched a few times as he continued scanning the newspaper in his hand.

A couple launched a campaign calling on the government to emulate Milton by implementing administrative reforms to eradicate drugs and cults.

The two insisted that Milton, as a Guatemalan citizen, had the right to be elected and should be the next president...

They claimed to have visited Milton's territory, supposedly conducting on-site investigations and observing the order and economy under Pan Madre rule... but is that really the case?

【…】

Milton glanced at the photo in the newspaper, then squatted down, turned over the face of the woman's corpse on the ground, and looked at the wounds on her body.

Then I looked at the man who had been turned into a decoration.

Brandon grabbed the high priest and dragged him in front of Milton, saying, "Boss, we should get going. It's not long before the evacuation time you set."

The "Tax Scorpion" lowered its speedboat, and Captain Marinho personally sailed over to pick up Milton.

This man, nicknamed "Eight Fingers," is a disabled veteran who lost his left ring and little fingers in the Falklands War and could only do smuggling in ports in Central America. He never dreamed that one day he would be able to command a warship again!
Meanwhile, other assault boats arrived, intending to take the special forces members and other cult members with them as well.

Milton put down his newspaper, picked up the sharpened, blood-dripping bone knife from the ground, stepped onto the speedboat, and calmly said, "Retreat."

"Roger! Everyone evacuate and board the ship in an orderly manner!"

"hurry up!"

"..."

After boarding the gunboat and throwing the still slightly dizzy high priest into the cabin, Flora then curiously read through the newspaper she had just picked up.

She was a smart woman; after reading it, she understood why the "tax collector" was so furious.

Yes, after spending so much time together, Flora knew that Milton would only spout trash talk, threaten his enemies, and reveal his vicious side when he wasn't too angry.

Once he gets really angry, he's like this now—completely calm, barely paying attention to the biggest target of this trip: the supreme leader of the original Voodoo cult, the "High Priest."

Flora looked at the escort fleet flying overhead and nudged Milton: "I feel like even if this high priest offered you all the church's assets as a fine, you wouldn't let him off so easily?"

"What are you planning to do? Feed this guy to the eagles? Perfect, let's give him some 'Aya vine' so he can watch himself die?"

Milton examined the bone knife in his hand carefully, then shook his head: "I've taken a look. This lousy cult seems to really enjoy using their enemies to make trophies."

Flora suddenly realized: "The Bible says, 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.'"

“No, there’s a Chinese saying, ‘A drop of water in need is repaid with a spring of water,’ which roughly means that even if someone steals just a drop of water from you, you must drown them in the lake.” Milton’s voice was calm. “The High Priest gave me a brilliant idea to turn my enemy into a souvenir. How could I not repay him a hundredfold?”

Flora's eyes widened, and she gasped, "What are you going to do?"

“We’ve arrested so many cult members, so many that we could make countless ‘works of art,’ unlike the high priest who is so strapped for cash.”

Have you ever heard of a spectacle built from the corpses of a massive number of enemies?

"I think we should invent a word for this kind of thing."

"It would be even better if the Oxford Dictionary could include it."

P.S.: I wrote faster today and added over a thousand more words.

(End of this chapter)