Chapter 51 This Is Too Decadent

Milton led Flora and her two companions out of the clinic and back to the pharmacy.

Since the three of them had just joined the team, Milton did not feel comfortable bringing them into the underground bunker, so all pre-battle planning was set up in the garage.

Flora sat down casually on the floor and said, "To be honest... this operation of yours goes far beyond the scope of 'security'; it falls squarely into the realm of black ops."

Milton glanced at her. "Are you going or not?"

"Going! Hehe." Flora didn't hesitate for a second. "For the projects you promised to approve for us! However, attacking someone else's territory is a dangerous mission. Do you have a plan and deployment strategy?"

She was actually dropping a subtle hint that Milton could provide the detailed information on the checkpoint so that their squad could formulate a viable attack plan.

As a veteran, Flora certainly didn't expect Milton to come up with a better combat plan than her own team.

Milton almost rolled his eyes. "Do you take me for a fool, marching straight to my death without any preparation? I'll design the attack plan because I'm much more familiar with the checkpoint than you are. Trust me, paper intelligence can never beat a proper reconnaissance on the ground."

Flora hesitated for a few seconds, then gave a slight nod. "Well... all right, let's hear your arrangements. Look, no offense, but the three of us are formally trained veterans. Maybe we can help you refine the offensive plan."

Having fought in Guatemala for so long, Flora had long since learned how incompetent the locals were.

The vast majority of gangs, and even regular soldiers, lacked any tactical awareness regarding information warfare.

Coming up with an operation plan like "bring two guns, you take the front and I'll take the rear, charge straight in and kill everyone" was already considered top-tier.

Unless the opponents were equally foolish and the regional matchmaking mechanism in Latin America was mercifully favorable, driving several vehicles swaggering into someone else's yard and stepping out to blindly spray bullets was tantamount to suicide.

The cinematic trope where enemies queued up like NPCs to be slaughtered simply did not happen in actual combat.

Milton pulled out a blank sheet of paper, hastily sketched a few lines and rectangles on it with a pencil, and slapped it onto the ground.

Flora looked at the lines, which could hardly even be called a map, and the corner of her mouth twitched. "Isn't this... a little too crude?"

"Crude to others, but enough for you." Milton pointed at the rectangles. "Once we reach the checkpoint, you'll see where these buildings are located... They are advantageous cover positions. Since we are fighting outnumbered, we must secure these covers. With your professionalism, you'll surely recognize them once you're on site."

Flora's expression changed instantly. She began to study the "map" intently, memorizing the locations marked on it.

In combat, it wasn't as if both sides were on equal footing just because they were both hiding behind cover.

If one side's cover resembled a car or a small utility shed, located far from other cover, with gunmen only able to leave shelter and peek out to shoot from two or three fixed positions, that constituted a severely disadvantageous cover.

Dealing with such cover required processing so little information that a competent marksman could easily pin it down at will.

Conversely, hiding in a building with numerous windows and a wide facade represented a relatively advantageous cover—such cover vastly increased the amount of information the opponent had to process.

Lines of fire could erupt at any moment from any window, any doorway, or even the flanks of the building, making it utterly impossible for the enemy to pin down effective firing angles.

A gunman hiding behind disadvantageous cover facing a gunman behind advantageous cover would often be pinned down within a few rounds, unable to even lift their head, while failing to determine the opponent's location!

The rectangles Milton drew were advantageous positions; capturing them would neutralize the numerical disadvantage!

Combined with their advantages in equipment and marksmanship, they could easily annihilate Varta's subordinates.

The reason it was drawn so simply was that once Flora and her team arrived at the scene, they could rely on their rich combat experience to make the exact same tactical judgments.

Flora looked at Milton in slight surprise. "Impressive, Taxman... Go on, we're listening to your arrangements."

As a professional, Flora could certainly recognize the high feasibility of this plan.

It wasn't complex, yet it struck like a sharp blade directly at the enemy's vulnerability.

It seemed this place still had people who knew how to fight...

Since Milton's tactical arrangement was sound and he possessed more on-the-ground intelligence, he would take command.

As long as it increased their odds of survival, the three-person squad, having experienced countless brushes with death, wouldn't care about something as trivial as ego.

Milton nodded and continued. "According to my intelligence, the senior officers inside the checkpoint have left with the station commander, leaving the enemy's command system extremely fragile. I need someone at a slightly greater distance to maintain suppressing fire and disrupt the enemy's OODA—Observe, Orient, Decide, Act—loop."

"The suppression task falls to Anvil. I have an M224 mortar and a PKM machine gun. If you decide to fire, you must do so from a reverse slope and avoid exposing your position prematurely."

Realistically, operating this mortar required at least two people, but with a shortage of personnel, they had no choice but to assign it to a single person.

"Do you need a firing table? Original U.S. military issue."

The look in Flora's eyes toward Milton had already changed significantly. She shook her head. "No firing table needed; how to use those things is drilled into our bones... I just suddenly realized you're much more formidable than I imagined."

Anvil smiled smugly. "I told you, following the Taxman is the ticket to getting filthy rich! There's no mistake. He really is different from those stupid, clueless loudmouths who love to give garbage orders."

"Oh, please. I know you're just in it for the 24-hour electricity and running water..."

Poison remained silent for a moment before sighing, "I just feel that ever since the dissolution of the Soviet Union, our military has only become more corrupt. Mortars can actually be smuggled all the way out here!"

Milton almost shook his head at that. The current U.S. military and other NATO forces considered corrupt? Just wait thirty years and see for yourself.

Spending half a billion dollars to procure military aircraft, only to immediately scrap them and resell them as scrap metal for thirty thousand dollars, would barely count as a minor, unremarkable incident by then.

Milton pointed toward the direction of the checkpoint's main gate on the map. "There's only one guard tower here, laxly guarded. I have an M24 sniper rifle; I can take it down easily."

"Once Anvil takes out the tower, the three of us will immediately breach, occupy all advantageous cover based on the terrain, eliminate the enemy, and grab the vehicles to escape. The other section of the checkpoint is controlled by Maynard; he likely won't attack us, but we shouldn't let our guard down entirely."

"The weapons they use are mostly cheap junk like Uzis, Type 56s... AK-47s are relatively rare, and their maximum firepower won't exceed the FAL."

"Also, from now on, all your comms will use the ones I provide." Milton brought out four captured walkie-talkies. "These are military frequency-hopping radios. I'm concerned the checkpoint might have monitoring equipment."

"Lastly, a small detail... You all should have night-vision goggles..."

"..."

Having arranged the tactics, Milton looked at the three increasingly silent individuals and frowned. "Why is everyone quiet? Do you think my plan is no good? Speak up now, be bold. I trust the judgment of you veterans."

"No, no," Flora denied, shaking her head. "I'm just wondering why your equipment and firepower are better than ours? You're just a tax inspector!"

Moreover, what shocked Flora the most was that Milton clearly possessed a strong grasp of "information warfare."

How long had it been since the Gulf War ended? How could a tax official in a remote, minor country have such a strong comprehension of "information"?

Analyzing Milton's tactics carefully, one would realize that from beginning to end, he was entirely focused on seizing the information advantage!

"Nonsense, how can you collect taxes without absolute firepower? Stop talking nonsense, load the equipment into the vehicles, and get ready to move out!"