Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 340



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Side Story 46: The Day of the Decisive Battle

“Three of their lip boats! Hurry!”

Strauss, who had been monitoring the situation at the front through a reconnaissance drone, shouted over the radio network.

At his warning, Soto quickly drove the Zodiac boat into the weedy area on the right bank of the river.

Our boat enters the grassy banks that stretch over the water, and moments later the roar of the motor cuts through the early morning air.

Then, to our left, huge hulls appeared, splitting the surface of the Santa Rita River in half.

Two rib boats, each twice the size of the Zodiac, passed by, shining their searchlights on the water ahead and into the surrounding bushland.

Behind the machine-gun-mounted lip boats, three Zodiac inflatable boats appear and pass on our left.

It’s obvious where the cartel mercenaries are headed.

They must be heading back to the fuel depot to the south or the cocaine factories nearby, where the incessant ‘ta-da-da-da-da’ gunfire can be heard.

I don’t know how many troops they have left north of the river to pursue Sergeant Miller.

But in the current situation, protecting the cocaine factory is their top priority.

Perhaps, if the cocaine lab hadn’t been so densely packed with booby traps and motion sensors, we would have blown it up by planting explosives in the lab instead of the fuel storage facility.

So if the Colombian helicopter assault force that showed up later had destroyed the cocaine factories, Sergeant Trevor Miller would have been completely out of their sight.

Even if it’s not exactly a cocaine lab, it looks like the government patrols are going to do something right today, as you can hear the Cobra helicopters among the Black Hawk helicopters.

Our rubber boat rocked as the current created by the tactical boats of the swarming bandits surged towards our hiding position.

After the sound of their boats faded away, darkness and silence fell over the area again.

Immediately afterwards, Strauss spoke into the radio.

“Wizard Team, you may move! Let’s go, gang!”

At his command, Soto pulled the starter cord again to start the engine.

Then the rubber boat started moving towards the north of the river again, and we again aimed our guns at the bushes on both sides of the river.

As the Zodiac sped north, water droplets continued to splash from the river’s surface onto my face and neck.

As I gazed at the surreal sight of the Santa Rita River through my night vision goggles, I began to realize that the moment of decisive battle was approaching.

At that very moment, Team Leader Decker pulled out a satellite phone from behind me.

Then he starts talking loudly to Miller.

The crew members, lying flat on the sides of the rubber boat and keeping a close watch, glanced over their shoulders at Decker for a moment before turning their heads back to their own areas of responsibility.

The Zodiac enters a long left turn section, and soon a mangrove forest area filled with large trees on both sides begins.

Above the river surface, tree trunks and leaves clinging to them can be seen sticking out here and there.

As Soto avoids them without slowing down the Zodiac’s maneuverability and continues forward, the rubber boat skims past the tree trunks.

The impact causes tree leaves to fall from branches and trunks and cover us.

But, the tree leaves that had fallen on us had ants on them, and these things started biting the back of my neck and my arms.

They put down their guns, swear, catch ants, and throw them into the river. It’s not just me, all the old men are making a fuss.

Strauss immediately shouted into the radio.

“Soto, you idiot, you should drive the Zodiac without touching the mangroves, what the hell are you doing? Are we supposed to be getting bitten by ants right now?”

The Mexican ferret immediately agrees with those words.

“Hey, Perky, Gringo!”

“You and me, perk up! You CIA idiot!”

I chuckled as I squashed the ants nibbling at the back of my neck with my fingertips while listening to the two people bickering.

But the two immediately became quiet when Decker, who appeared on the wireless network, shouted.

“Everyone shut up and listen to me!”

When our boss told us to pay attention on the wireless network, all the agents’ eyes turned to him.

He finally delivered the news we’ve been waiting for.

“We’re going to rendezvous with ‘Package (Trevor Miller)’ 1.6 clicks ahead! Everyone, be fully prepared! Right now, Package has barely managed to shake off the mercenaries chasing him, but they might show up at any moment! Wake up!”

As he finished relaying the situation, he switched to the .50 caliber sniper rifle that the Canadian Rooker was carrying.

O’Connor and Strauss also put the AKS74U behind their backs and picked up the RPK74 machine gun that they had placed on the bottom of the boat.

I also grabbed the M32 grenade launcher and grenade pouch that I had placed next to me and slung them across my torso.

Finally, the moment of decisive battle arrives.

I felt a vacuum forming in my chest and head, and soon I felt a warm heat on my face and neck.

While the enemy cleans up the mess behind us, we need to get Sergeant Miller out of here as quickly as possible.

Let’s just hope that by then the Colombian military will have kept the cartel gunmen busy and distracted enough that they can’t come up this river again.

Tata tata tata tata!

Tata tata tata tata!

Miller watched calmly as machine-gun flares flew in from behind him.

The green flares flying at him from his 5 o’clock and 8 o’clock directions were not fired by mercenaries aiming at him.

The sporadic gunfire was all bait shots intended to provoke Miller into firing back.

The cartel mercenaries, estimated to number at least a dozen, only knew that Miller was heading towards the water, but not his exact location.

A brief barrage of machine gun bullets in all directions, then awaiting a response, supported Miller’s guess.

Miller and the mercenaries were moving at a distance of about 100 meters, but there was a jungle area with muddy ground in the middle, giving Miller an advantage.

Miller was optimistic that it wouldn’t be easy, but if he did well, he could make contact with Fred Decker’s PMC team that had infiltrated to rescue him and escape the scene right away.

But not long after he had been wading through the mud with that thought in his mind, something happened that made him shake his head.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Mortar fire echoed throughout the area, and Miller had a hunch that the mortars were firing flares into the sky.

And as he had expected, the surrounding bushes began to glow with an orange glow.

“Pfft!”

After confirming that three flares were floating in the sky above the area, he hurried his steps toward the river.

But the situation unfolded more urgently than he expected.

As he ran through the pathless bushes, the sound of a reconnaissance drone could be heard from above behind him.

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It was the sound of a medium-sized quadcopter drone operated by cartel mercenaries.

Miller stopped moving and hid himself among the tree trunks, which were covered with thick branches.

While catching my breath, I looked around the sky.

Despite the sound of the drone coming closer, the drone’s form was not visible.

Cartel mercenaries have been using reconnaissance drones and mortars together to neutralize Colombian government reconnaissance units that have infiltrated the Frontino jungle.

Miller’s mind became anxious as he saw the unpleasant combination with his own eyes.

Miller took out his satellite phone and called Fred Decker.

However, he did not hear any signal even though his transmission and reception sensitivity were normal.

After trying to call three times without success, he put the phone in his pocket.

Anyway, he was heading to the location agreed upon with his rescue team, so even if contact was lost, he wouldn’t be isolated.

However, I was worried because I couldn’t transmit a warning that I was heading to the rendezvous point with the enemies behind me.

Miller shouldered the gun and walked back out into the mud.

He pushed forward about 5 to 6 meters, pushing through the branches and grasses hanging in front of him.

Then, the thicket of mangrove trees ended and a grassy area with a view of the night sky opened up before our eyes.

Miller breathed a sigh of relief as he passed through the scrubland that stretched out about 100 meters in front of him and reached the Santa Rita River.

But before he could take a few steps through the undergrowth, the sound of mortar fire was heard again in the sky above the area.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Miller stopped walking and waited for mortar flares to appear in the sky above the area.

But this time it wasn’t a flare.

Kwaaang! Kwaaang! Kwaaang!

Moments ago, a flash of light and an explosion shook the ground in the thicket of mangrove trees where he had been hiding.

A huge wooden pillar fell when shells exploded several dozen meters behind him.

“Shh!”

He sensed that the mercenaries’ reconnaissance drone, which had not yet determined its location, was looking down at him, and immediately started running towards the river.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of three ‘hand-held mortars’ (lightweight mortars that soldiers fire by holding the mortar barrels themselves) firing shells simultaneously echoed throughout the jungle.

Miller ran through the waist- and chest-high grass, breathing heavily.

Then, the next moment, he noticed something like rocks falling about 20 meters away, in his 2 o’clock direction.

Boom! Boom!

Miller quickly dove toward the weedy ground.

But the stiff grass stalks supported his body like a cushion, so that his abdomen did not even touch the ground.

As he raised his head, smelling the foul stench of mud, the mortar fire came again.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Miller soon emerged from the mangrove forest and was able to see mortar shells falling all around him through his night vision goggles.

This time it was about 30 meters away from his 1 o’clock position.

The shells, which looked like large boulders, fell into the thick undergrowth, but these too did not explode and just lodged in the mud.

Miller’s heart pounded at the sight.

The mercenaries could be heard shouting at each other, and then a moment later the sound of a quadcopter could be heard coming closer from the surrounding sky.

Miller quickly got up and started running toward the river again.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

This time, flares appeared directly above the bushes, and a torrent of light poured into his night vision goggles.

As Miller raised the night vision goggle body upward, he was able to see the area with the naked eye.

But immediately after that, instead of mortar rounds, machine gun bullets and rifle bullets began to pour in from behind him.

Tata tata tata tata tata! Tata tata tata tata!

Tata tata! Tata tata tang! Tata tang!

The sound of RPK74 machine guns firing continuously and AK74 guns firing in bursts overwhelmed the area around the bushes.

Miller continued to run through the thick grass, his feet sinking into it, his breathing heavy.

At first, the green flares that had been breaking the grass around Miller gradually came closer to him.

Miller deduced the current situation from the sound of a quadcopter drone, which was much closer than before.

A reconnaissance drone equipped with night vision equipment was tracking Miller’s location and transmitting it to the enemy in real time.

Now he could hear the mercenaries shouting in Spanish from all over his rear, and the gunfire that had seemed to be indiscriminate was gradually changing into a more aimed pattern.

Tata tata tata! Tata tata tata! Tata tata tata!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The cartel hunters now fired short bursts of machine gun fire and single shots with their rifles in the direction of Miller’s movement, aiming their shots.

Miller could tell his location was known just by the sound of enemy gunfire.

Boom, boom!

Wedge!

Two fireballs passed over Miller’s head and through the grass stalks to his left.

Miller knew that the explosion echoing through the air was the sound of an RPG7 rocket launcher.

Boom, bang!

The PG7 high-explosive shells exploded far in front of Miller, unlike the mortar shells that were stuck in the mud and did not explode.

“Shit, fucking shit!”

Miller muttered as he lowered the night vision goggle body in front of his eyes.

He sensed that things were turning out more urgently than he had anticipated.

Booooooooooooo!

As Miller tried to scan the rear with the green field of view of his night vision goggles, a quadcopter drone zoomed in on him from ahead.

Miller realized that the reconnaissance drone was flying toward him, watching him from above the brush.

He launched himself towards the ground in a flash, and the next moment a powerful explosion followed from the sky ahead of him.

Phew!

With a crack of thunder, hot air and a violent storm poured down on Miller’s sheltered position, knocking down all the weeds within a radius of several dozen meters.

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