Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 333 "The Dramatic Changes in Central America" ​​(End of this volume)
CIA, open the door...

In the past, after such a statement was made, even in countries with strong anti-American sentiment, many people would be wary... or at least speak politely.

That wasn't just any CIA informant or agent; it was the CIA's deputy director!
It could easily escalate into a diplomatic dispute.

However, the guards at the checkpoint didn't even change their expressions; in fact, they couldn't help but shrug their shoulders, as if they were trying to suppress a laugh.

George had lost his mind in rage. Ignoring the silent sighs of the frontline agents behind him, he took another step forward: "The people behind you, they've attacked American officials, committed murder and robbery, carried out terrorist attacks... Are you going to protect them?"

The guard, with a leisurely air, said in great surprise, "That's strange. You Americans come here to carry out terrorist attacks and even try to assassinate our officials with biological weapons, but we haven't come knocking on your door?"

George replied without hesitation, "How can that be the same?"

“Okay…” The guard, who was somewhat familiar with the shamelessness and double standards of Americans, shrugged. “So, what are your demands for standing here? If not, then don’t interfere with our work.”

George stepped forward, stared into the guard's eyes, and demanded, "I'm asking you, is Guatemala going to protect the terrorists who carried out the attacks?"

“This isn’t your House of Representatives, and I’m not an official to be questioned by members.” The guard glanced at the growing number of armored vehicles gathering behind George, his expression remaining calm. “These yes or no trap questions won’t fool us… Want to come in? Sure, let’s see your visa.”

“Isn’t Guatemala visa-free for US passport holders?!” George exclaimed incredulously.

"I'm sorry, now that the Constitution has been enacted, other laws have also been changed... U.S. passport holders are no longer eligible for visa-free entry in Guatemala."

George, having been rebuffed, nodded coldly: "Very well, it seems you're determined to harbor terrorists."

The guard's expression hardened, and he stepped forward as well: "Oh? Is that so? You say you're a terrorist, so you're a terrorist? Then I'll define you as a terrorist and arrest you, how about that? Anyway, your CIA is indeed a terrorist organization."

The fierce expression, the stern accusation, the step forward, coupled with the frontline detectives' fascination with the Milton Horror Story, caused some of the detectives and officers behind to instinctively draw their sidearms and point them in the direction of the checkpoint.

"Stand there! Don't move forward!"

Wow!

Upon seeing this, the guards at the checkpoint also raised their rifles and pointed them at the CIA without hesitation!
The two sides instantly became tense!
Looking at the gun pointed at him, George never dreamed that he, a high-ranking American official who was always treated with great respect by the locals, would be held at gunpoint in Latin America, a place where people could come and go as they pleased and relieve themselves whenever they wanted!
Milton was a warlord before, which was one thing, but now he controls the entire country. Doesn't he consider the diplomatic implications?!
He's already considered a "big shot," yet he doesn't act like a politician at all? Does this guard not understand human language?
George didn't investigate how the three missiles came to be, nor did he mention the deaths of dozens of CIA agents. He had already proactively narrowed the matter down to the scope of a "terrorist attack," clearly trying to downplay the seriousness of the incident!

Milton had already taken all the credit and won so badly that George was just after a bit of face. The F-16s had been deployed, and he, as a deputy director, had come in person. Wouldn't it be better to just cooperate and hand over a few "terrorists" and then leave immediately?

Even though he's been here for so long, not a single person of any importance has come to see him... It's this damned guard talking to him all this time!
What utter disrespect!

George stared intently at the gun pointed at him, his face extremely grave: "It seems you intend to escalate this completely..."

Not only him, but also the agents behind him were extremely tense.

However, the guard with the gun didn't seem worried at all. He smiled helplessly and said, "I was a little hesitant to believe that you were actually like the 'Godfather' described you... Now that I've seen it with my own eyes, I completely believe it."

"Some people can't be reasoned with."

"Then I won't talk about it."

They are clearly supporting their own military, plotting to overthrow the legitimate government on someone else's turf; their military deployments have all been authorized through legal procedures; and it is clearly the CIA that has been actively causing trouble...

They actually dared to turn the tables and even had the nerve to show their faces here. What ridiculous "face" do they have to care about?
If today's failure is due to the "hellish tax collector," or President Reiner, forget about saving face; the entire country and its people will pay a bloody price—for decades to come!

The Americans, however, were still thinking of getting their soldiers to hand over after their defeat. They were trying to take them on the battlefield, not just by talking!

The guard looked at the gun barrels that far outnumbered his own, picked up the radio, and slowly said, "Hello? There's trouble here."

"receive."

The next moment, the sound of several engines starting up could be heard!
Boom boom boom!
To the astonishment of the CIA officers, three Type 59 tanks drove out of the camouflage garage and came up behind the guards—three dark gun ports slowly turned and aimed at George's head.

George: "..."

At this moment, overwhelmed by anger, various political factors, and past compromises in politics and international relations, he finally calmed down.

Of course, he couldn't afford to be uncalm in the face of such an advanced carbon-based biological calming device as the muzzle of a cannon.

"I understand what you mean... Let's go."

Behind him, the agents who had been terrified breathed a sigh of relief—based on their long experience dealing with Milton, if they had continued to be defiant, they would have been hit by cannon fire!
The guard scoffed, "Then you'd better hurry up and leave. Now you can leave Honduras normally, but in a little while you'll be deported."

George couldn't catch his breath. He looked up, about to utter a few harsh words, but suddenly froze.

Those who were originally changing clothes in the back, who had killed countless CIA agents and whom he had labeled "terrorists," somehow appeared in front of him under the cover of tanks.

Their faces were calm, their eyes devoid of any murderous intent, and they met George's gaze.

How terrifying are those pairs of eyes?

The lack of murderous intent doesn't mean the person doesn't want to kill, nor does it mean they're afraid... it's a naked contempt. A person wouldn't show murderous intent if they wanted to step on an ant.

At that moment, George suddenly realized that the Americans, the CIA, and the CIA deputy director were no longer his lifesavers, but rather his death warrants!
No, not at this moment, but here in the future...

The influence of his homeland has faded here! And without the protection of that powerful country, when others no longer respect his identity, he is no different from those who can be easily crushed.

After staring at each other for three seconds, the leader of the "terrorists" suddenly smiled, raised his palm, gestured back and forth on his neck, and turned to leave.

A high-ranking American official was utterly humiliated.

But George's legs had gone weak. He forced himself not to urinate, turned around, and, escorted by the frontline agents with complicated expressions, got into his car and slowly drove away.

It took him a very long time to recover from that state of shock.

George looked at the silent frontline agent beside him, and at the driver who was driving silently... Could this be the kind of opponent they had faced before?
Have they been working under this kind of pressure all this time?

Sure enough, the office suits him better.

The image of that "terrorist" smiling and slitting his throat at him just now still haunts him.

"Phew... Make a call for me, call the director, I have something to report."

"We must report what just happened to him. Milton has become too powerful... He will destroy all American interests in Latin America, and he has already threatened American national security!"

"If left unchecked, this will become another Cuba! A horrific upheaval will inevitably occur in Central America! A 'Central American upheaval' comparable to the upheavals in Eastern Europe!"

"We must use state power to suppress him!" "..."

……

a few days later.

Guatemala City.

Presidential Palace, Military Commission.

Milton held the phone, listening intently to the voice on the other end.

"Your Excellency Milton..." President Reina's voice carried a hint of helplessness, "I am very grateful for your help to the legitimate government of Honduras, but aren't your methods a bit too much?"

So much so that after Reiner regained control of the country, the biggest problem he faced did not come from within the country, but from the overwhelming anger of the United States.

From the Americans' perspective, the damned Honduran president was willing to sign anything to keep his presidency, selling out American interests completely, and to make matters worse, he also slapped America in the face.

Reiner has sent a clear signal that this administration will completely break with the US government.

As for whether the Americans wanted Reyner dead first... well, can you really say the same thing?

“They all want you dead, and you’re still thinking about suppressing things? Trying not to offend the Americans?” Milton found it somewhat amusing. “You have no way out. Your only chance of survival is to find a way to become independent.”

Reina was silent for a moment: "Yes, the Americans hate me to the core... I can imagine that in the future I might experience the life of Castro, being assassinated. Honduras is different from yours. I didn't conquer the country, so I can't change the constitutional system, and I don't have as much control over the country as you do."

“It’s alright.” Milton glanced at the panel. “I have intelligence officers. As long as you ally with me, I can help you remove the thorns in your side to some extent.”

Reina remained silent for a long time, then gave a bitter laugh: "I have no choice now."

Even if Reina were to kneel down before the United States right now, it wouldn't bring about the lifting of sanctions or their forgiveness—there would only be one outcome: death.

No one even bothered to accept Reina's surrender.

Just as the "Hell Tax Collector" said, whether for the sake of the country, for his political life, or for his biological life, he could only ally with Milton and Guatemala to embark on that illusory path of "independence and autonomy."

That was the path that Reina longed for, yet could never see the future of.

"I wonder what price I'll have to pay..."

Milton looked at the documents on the table and said with amusement, "The price? Hasn't the price already been paid?"

This morning, the U.S. Department of Commerce announced that a host of sanctions against Guatemala will officially take effect in three days.

The historically divided Congress was remarkably united and efficient on this issue.

This includes a trade embargo—a complete ban on bilateral import and export trade, and a ban on U.S. companies’ subsidiaries in third countries trading with Guatemala.

There are also shipping and port restrictions, prohibiting any ships that have docked in Guatemalan ports from entering U.S. ports within 90 days, and canceling all direct flights.

Asset freezes, foreign exchange controls, financial sanctions... and so on.

While it's not as severe as Cuba's measures, it's still a very, very harsh economic sanction.

This wasn't because a few dozen insignificant SAD consumables died, but because Milton genuinely threatened American interests in Latin America.

Guatemala, southern Mexico, Cuba, Honduras, Nicaragua... A terrifying hand has gripped Central America, setting the so-called "backyard" ablaze!

These comprehensive and powerful sanctions are a response to this behavior.

This tactic is very effective most of the time—the economy of the sanctioned country collapses instantly, its currency depreciates rapidly, its national finances fall into a predicament, and the country becomes unstable. Organizations such as the CIA and USAID take advantage of the situation to incite public sentiment, overthrow the current government, and replace it with a pro-American government.

Even if we can't replace them with pro-American governments, we can at least cripple these countries and deprive them of the power to restrain the United States.

Even so-called "alliances" can collapse internally due to economic problems...

To many, Milton's struggles were nothing short of a joke, and his attempts, like those of his predecessors, were bound to be easily extinguished.

Milton looked at the documents in his hand and hung up the call with Reiner.

Besides these documents, there were many other materials on his desk.

Torrijos, who said, "I don't want to be remembered in history, I just want the canal"; Sandino, a member of the Nicaraguan anti-American guerrillas; Che Guevara, who fought for independence; Allende of Chile; Lumumba, the Congolese president who was assassinated by the CIA and whose body was dismembered, leaving only his teeth...

There was even Noriega, a despicable, greedy, corrupt drug trafficker who ultimately chose the country over himself...

They have good people, bad people, stupid people, mediocre people... Many of them are close to success.

But their fates were all tragic.

The hard-won achievements were also completely destroyed.

Milton stood on the balcony of the presidential palace, overlooking his country, watching the people enjoying prosperity, wisdom, and peace, and looking at the railway that was about to be completed in the distance.

In a daze, he returned to his previous life.

At that time, he was one of those people below, and above him was that powerful, hysterical tyrant. Back then, he didn't need to worry; the tall guy would shield him from everything.

Now, however, Milton has become the "tall guy," and he has become the one being surrounded.

He glanced again at the portraits of those who died in resistance, and the embers of fire that had been extinguished in their struggle, all displayed on the table.

"Now, it's my turn."

"Come on, use every trick in the book... let me see what you're capable of."

Milton's gaze remained as calm as ever.

They fear dramatic changes in Central America, and he will give them one!

(End of this volume)

(End of this chapter)