Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 341 Open the champagne at halftime
As Damon stepped across the boundary marker, a sense of security he had never felt since entering Guatemala completely filled his heart.

Safe!
With the most crucial intelligence, we are completely safe!
A false intelligence report that misled Milton was left behind, while the real plan was taken away. If the operation succeeds, if the "Guatemalan Brigade" can successfully land and kill Milton, Damon could even use this to accumulate enough political capital to enter politics.

In the future, he might become a deputy director or even director of the CIA.

Milton, who had caused the CIA a huge headache, was killed by his plan. What a great achievement that was!
Although he lost a large sum of money and his wife died, these costs were well worth it for a bright political future.

The CIA agents who greeted them in Belize were obviously aware of this, and their faces unconsciously showed a hint of obsequiousness: "Welcome back, our heroes!"

Just as Damon was about to say something, he suddenly heard hurried footsteps behind him.

Turning around, I saw several soldiers carrying rifles, panting heavily, and looking extremely pale.

When they saw that Damon was already standing inside the enemy country's border, they looked even darker.

The leading officer stepped forward, seemingly suppressing something, looked at Damon and the camera in his hand, and coldly asked, "Belitezians, what do you mean by this? Are you trying to protect criminals?!"

The Belizeans remained silent... after all, what they did was indeed unethical.

Moreover, many soldiers harbored goodwill towards Milton.

However, Damon, who had been a subservient figure in Guatemala for so long, wasn't so polite. He turned around and gave the officer a defiant look: "Criminal? Does Guatemala believe that if someone is a criminal, then he is necessarily a criminal and can be arrested from other countries?"

“I even said that I was being persecuted by you.”

A Belizean officer stepped forward, a smug smile on his face at the Guatemalans who hadn't suffered any setbacks recently but had stumbled at their hands: "Even if they really have a problem, you'll have to provide evidence first, submit it to our court, and only after we've reviewed it and deemed it reasonable can we hand it over to you."

"You think you can just hand over our people like that? Do you think you're the world's police?"

Several CIA agents burst into laughter:
"That's right, let's go back!"

Go back to your country!

"Feel fearful, and guess what photos we took from your air force bases, how many photos we took, and how many air force bases we photographed?"

"Hahaha...why don't you go and have a good cry with your 'hellish tax collectors'?"

"Guess if one of your 'hellish tax collectors' ever has someone crawl out of the closet and slit his throat while he's sleeping? Ask him how it feels to live in fear his whole life?"

"..."

The situation was fine at first, but when these foreigners started humiliating Milton, the soldiers' emotions clearly began to spiral out of control.

A soldier, his eyes red, prepared to raise his gun: "Watch your fucking mouth..."

The officer immediately reached out and pressed him down, looking coldly at the smug Americans and foreigners opposite him, and said, "Don't be impulsive. Let's go. Let them be smug. Anyway, we've already killed four of them, so it's not a loss."

Damon laughed and said, "He slunk away."

"Hmph, we'll see."

"..."

On the border, after mocking the pursuing Guatemalan soldiers to the extreme, Damon felt refreshed. He boarded a helicopter with his colleagues and Belizeans, first flying to the Belize airport, and then taking a private jet back to Miami.

Damon stepped off the plane, his feet touching American soil, and took a deep breath.

From that point on, Milton had no way to deal with him anymore!
Perhaps, because of this incident, I could become a special guest in Hollywood, make a movie about it, and rake in some money in the entertainment industry.

"Mr. Damon, the Deputy Director has flown over and is waiting to share dinner with you."

"He looks forward to sharing this wonderful French meal with you."

“There’s a helipad on the hotel rooftop. We can fly there directly… From there, you can get a panoramic view of Biscayne Bay. Let me show you your clothes first.”

Damon changed into a proper suit and boarded the helicopter with a clear conscience, arriving at the extremely private and luxurious restaurant.

The CIA deputy director was already there waiting for him.

Seeing Damon approach, he took a bottle of Blanc de Blancs champagne from the ice bar next to the counter, gestured for Damon to sit down: "Come, sit down."

After placing the champagne on the table and waiting for the waiter to pour the drinks, the deputy director glanced at the Biscayne Bay in the evening, watched the waiter leave, and then nodded slightly: "I've heard about the situation of this mission. Now, I can tell you the detailed intelligence."

Damon took a small sip of top-quality champagne and said, "I already know the approximate timing and order of Milton's deployments in the Pacific coastal cities... If we can seize this opportunity and launch a surprise attack on Milton, there is a high chance that we can successfully eliminate him."

“As long as Milton is dead, Guatemala will no longer be a problem.”

"Perfect timing! The newspapers say we're going to land along the Atlantic coast, and Milton has deployed a lot of troops there to guard against us... Why don't we just abandon our original plan and launch a surprise attack on Milton from the Pacific!"

In fact, the deputy director had already learned the general situation not long ago.

The reason for asking this question is to clarify some more important details.

“Hmm… if your intelligence is reliable, this is indeed a better option.” The deputy director nodded, taking a small sip of champagne. “But, are you sure your intelligence is reliable?”

Damon answered without hesitation: “Absolutely! First of all, I have left behind a lot of evidence and witnesses from different backgrounds, all of whom point to the same fact—the goal of our operation is to thoroughly investigate the situation of the Guatemalan Air Force.”

"In an effort to save face, Guatemala immediately released photos of the scene where SAD was killed. Those who knew about it were not taken in for questioning, and they will not reveal our true intentions."

He spoke very quickly and with great certainty.

If Damon hadn't made the right decision to get on the bus in that critical moment, and if he hadn't sold Runren and his partner to gain a chance to escape, how could he be sitting here talking now?

This is enough to show that the enemy did not hold back. He relied on his amazing wisdom, on-the-spot reaction ability and a little bit of luck to bring out this valuable intelligence!
There couldn't possibly be any problems with the intelligence.

The deputy director frowned... He felt that Damon's answer was too fast and too absolute, which was not professional or objective enough.

But think about it, Damon lost so many colleagues and escaped from enemy territory in the face of death. Anyone who denies this achievement or questions this intelligence is slapping Damon in the face.

This is tantamount to suppressing his political future.

Besides, this intelligence is indeed reasonable, so let Damon be a little emotional.

"Hmm... Overall, there are no problems. We can change the plan to a landing on the Pacific coast." The deputy director nodded. "This matter should be settled after an internal process."

"..."

The two chatted amiably while enjoying the finest French cuisine, thoroughly savoring their meal.

After finishing the last course of food, the deputy director wiped his mouth with a napkin and asked, "By the way, are you interested in joining the 'Guatemalan Brigade' and becoming the one who takes down the Miltons?"

Joining the "Guatemalan Brigade"?!

Damon was stunned for a moment.

To be honest, after leaving that godforsaken place and returning to the United States, he swore to God that he would never go back to that wretched place in his life.

Now the deputy director is actually asking him if he wants to go back?

"Don't immediately refuse. This isn't mandatory. Listen to me carefully before answering." The deputy director clearly knew that most CIA agents who returned alive from Guatemala suffered from PTSD, so he reassured them before continuing, "You're the only agent who returned alive with intelligence. Your contribution is significant enough. If you build up your seniority and curry favor with Republican or Democratic leaders, your chances of becoming a CIA deputy director are very high, and even becoming director isn't impossible." "But..."

"If you not only bring back the intelligence, but also personally command the entire battle... then the whole thing will be your credit. Do you understand the significance of this? You will be the sole hero in the withdrawal from Guatemala."

"This impressive resume is enough for you to become the local tyrant of Central America, or to truly enter high-level politics, and even have a chance to run for President of the United States in the future, understand?"

Kill Milton...

Liberate Guatemala...

The founders of freedom and democracy in Central America...

The tyrant, whom everyone was powerless against, died easily at his hands...

President of the United States!

Damon's heart skipped a beat.

The fear of Guatemala was completely overwhelmed by the world's greatest temptation at this moment!

Damon now understood why the deputy director had talked so much with him, why he had adopted such a humble attitude, and why he hadn't tried to take credit for his work.

Because no matter how much he tries to forcibly divide the spoils of victory, it will only slightly increase his chances of becoming the CIA director.

However, if this leads to the support of a future US president, the gains will be immeasurable. If Damon is elected, the deputy director who chose to support him today will inevitably enter the cabinet and become one of the leaders of the entire country.

The deputy director could tell from Damon's expression that he understood what he meant.

"how?"

how is it?

How could anyone possibly resist such a temptation?

The chance to become the President of the United States, even just a small one, is enough to make the vast majority of people in the world flock to it!
Having already taken one risk, and with the more dangerous one already behind us, how could anything go wrong this simpler one? Isn't it perfectly normal to bet your winnings on the next sure-win game?
Damon swallowed hard: "No problem, but I need the maximum level of security."

The deputy director smiled: "Don't worry... the Air Force has been waiting for you. You have two choices: get on a plane; or sit on the command ship at sea. No one can hit you. Which do you choose?"

After careful consideration, Damon thought about Milton's air force and naval strength, and said without much hesitation, "I heard that after we launched our amphibious operation, most of Milton's navy has already gone to the Caribbean, leaving the Pacific coast very vulnerable... It's safer to go by ship."

"very good."

Only then did the deputy director finally show a genuine smile and raise his champagne glass high.

The wine glides beautifully in the glass.

"Then, I wish us all the best in the future at the White House!"

See you at the White House!

"..."

……

Puerto Barrios, Guatemala.

Standing in front of Milton was the group of soldiers who had just gone after Damon.

After reporting the intelligence to Milton, they couldn't help but make a couple of minor complaints.

"'Godfather'...you have no idea, that woman almost surrendered to us. Luckily, I fired quickly enough. How could SAD be so incompetent?"

"I think sending that helicopter that most Latin American intelligence personnel wouldn't notice, but the CIA might, would be a truly brilliant move! The CIA would never have thought of that; being too professional isn't always a good thing."

"Heh... to be honest, that male SAD, I think his name is Damon? He was so arrogant, I almost couldn't resist shooting him, but unfortunately, I had to let him go back to America."

"..."

After listening to the report, Milton nodded slightly: "Don't worry about temporary grudges—imperialist countries always have a strange illusion that there are some things that only they can do, and they will be shocked beyond words when others do them."

"One day, there will be such a day... I want Americans to know that even if they return to the United States, they are not necessarily safe."

"It's not that only they can carry out decapitation strikes in other countries, and it's not that someone can do whatever they want in our country and then go to the United States and get away with it without any worries."

That day is not far off.

Milton stood up from his seat and waved his hand: "Let's go back to the West Coast... to continue my visit. I'll be arriving in Champellico in a few days."

"In 5 days."

"Very good... Are all the aerial bombs ready?"

"Completely ready."

"Let's go, check in tomorrow night."

"..."

In preparation for a powerful American raid, the hotel Milton was about to stay at had already ceased normal operations; all guests were secret agents, and all suitcases contained heavy bombs.

Thanks to the agents' tireless efforts in disguising and transporting the aircraft, the entire hotel is now a giant powder keg. To ensure safety, the fuses of most of the bombs have been removed.

To take their ruthlessness to the extreme, the agents even crammed wardrobes and refrigerators—they stuffed bombs into places where they could fit bombs, artillery shells into places where they couldn't fit bombs, and hand grenades into places where they couldn't even fit artillery shells.

Matteo, who once orchestrated the "shit bombing" operation, even planted a booby trap under the flush button on the toilet.

"..."

Three days later, Milton, who had secretly returned to the Pacific coast, felt that the time was about right.

As scheduled, he delivered a very brief speech, checked several public services and infrastructure facilities in the city, and then Milton discreetly boarded his car and began driving towards Port Champellico.

That evening, the convoy stopped next to a luxury hotel along the way.

Milton, accompanied by his officials, stepped through the hotel's doors.

Meanwhile, in some inconspicuous locations around the hotel, a few barely perceptible noises could be heard, and the grass trembled abnormally a few times.

Several figures carrying binoculars emerged and took out their satellite phones...

"The time is ripe to execute the 'Counterattack on the Mainland Plan'!"

"I saw Milton walk into that hotel with my own eyes!!!"

"If just a few people show up, he's doomed!"

(End of this chapter)