Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 342



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Side Story 48: The Day of the Decisive Battle

The seaplane that had flown the dangerous and long way to pick us up raced across the river at top speed for an emergency takeoff.

And farther south, where the seaplane is headed, two Jet Ranger helicopters are coming up to search the river.

Preston was nervous that he might run into the cartel helicopters if he didn’t get off the river first, but now we had to worry about ourselves.

We pulled the rubber boat out of the river and ran into the bushes where it would not be detected by the searchlights of the helicopters.

After hiding the zodiac among the trees, he turned his gaze to the direction in which the seaplane was headed.

Everyone holds their breath and looks in the direction where the loud noise of the light aircraft is coming from.

The sound of the old Jet Ranger is heard closer than before, and searchlights are visible in all directions from it.

Come on, come on, get out of here!

The sound of a seaplane seems to indicate that it will take off at any moment, but nothing is visible above where the sound is coming from.

“Over there! 11 o’clock!”

As I turn my head in the direction Luker had pointed out, I see a seaplane flying away just above the bushes.

Preston narrowly missed the Jet Ranger helicopters, their searchlights shining, coming in less than a hundred meters away.

“Okay, now everyone take cover! The enemy hiding in the jungle has fired a laser near our position, so the Jet Rangers will search this area.”

At Team Leader Decker’s direction, we hid between the thick wooden posts and in the nearby bushes.

As Soto and O’Connor helped Sergeant Miller into the grass, he appeared to be delirious from the morphine that was slowly taking hold of him.

Hopefully, by the time that guy comes to his senses, we’ll be on a large barge heading to Panama.

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

Suddenly, everyone’s attention turned towards the Jet Rangers at the sound of machine gun fire.

Oh, shit!

One of the two Jet Rangers was flying towards the western sky where the seaplane had flown, and gunfire rang out from there.

Before we can even ask Preston, he appears on the radio.

“Their helicopters have spotted Citadel One and are starting to chase after it! We’ll try to shake them off. Until then, hold on tight, Wizard Team!”

The jungle’s mercenary king, Salvatore, forgot that his foreign mercenary force was equipped with expensive night vision equipment.

Just when I was starting to regret underestimate their ability to thoroughly search the river area without the searchlights of a crappy old Jet Ranger helicopter, another Jet Ranger soon approached our concealed position.

“Shhh!”

I heard someone’s voice, and it was because the Jet Ranger had turned off all three of its searchlights as it flew near us.

Rather, it’s more unsettling that they turn off all the lights as if they can find us even without shining a searchlight to get an idea of ​​where they’re looking.

From my position and Decker’s, at 1 o’clock on the right, Luke, who was hiding on the side of the Zodiac boat, aims his anti-material rifle at their helicopter.

As the Jet Ranger gets closer to our position, with the loud rotor noise leading the way, the bushes in the area begin to chase after it more violently.

In the field of view of those wearing night vision goggles, infrared laser trails projecting in all directions inside the helicopter were often visible.

At least three or four mercenaries are shining lasers mounted on their guns towards the ground, looking for a target to fire bullets at.

I slowly pulled the M32 grenade launcher towards my right shoulder in the grass and placed the buttstock on it.

If necessary, they planned to fire 40mm high-explosive grenades at the helicopter.

There’s no telling how much firepower the elite Australian mercenaries on board the helicopter have.

However, we also have a .50 caliber anti-material rifle, three RPK74 light machine guns, and my six-barrel grenade launcher.

The one who survives by unleashing all the firepower they have on each other wins.

Now, it’s do or die.

Jet Ranger came with a rough idea of ​​where we were hiding.

So, we moved very slowly along the river starting from about 60 meters in our 11 o’clock direction.

Compared to just 30 seconds ago when it was flying at full speed, scanning the river’s surface, it now appears to be hovering.

He set the grenade launcher’s trigger to the firing position and aimed at the helicopter, which was as big as a house, through the gap in the grass.

We all point our guns upwards, without using infrared targeting lasers that could reveal our location.

The branches and grass near the river surface sway as the downpour from the helicopter blows, and the sound of the helicopter shaking the ground overwhelms our five senses.

The helicopter’s downwind force is so powerful that the spray from the river’s surface reaches this place, which is far inland.

In the midst of the spray, I looked up at the Jet Ranger flying slowly from 12 o’clock to 2 o’clock, even smelling the smell of water.

A sniper rifle gunner wearing a night vision goggle and an M240 machine gunner mounted on the side of the aircraft are visible.

I was looking up at the huge helicopter moving at a walking pace at an altitude of about 30 meters, and my mouth was dry and my blood was running dry.

In the midst of this chaos, Team Leader Decker began communicating with someone on the radio.

“Citadel two, in station, confirm!”

Just as he was about to respond to the person he was communicating with and relay the situation to us, the sound of a grenade explosion was heard from the nearby bushes.

Immediately afterwards, someone, either Soto or O’Connor, who was hiding among the wooden pillars, shouted into the radio.

“Grenade’s coming from our rear! Incoming! Incoming!”

I quickly turned my head and looked at the jungle area on the other side of the river where the helicopter was hovering.

At that moment, a spine-chilling sight caught my eye.

Apparently, another Jet Ranger helicopter, which we knew had followed Preston’s light aircraft, had landed somewhere between the jungle and the brush on this side.

And then something starts flashing in succession in the nearby bushes.

“Grenade launcher! Everybody get down! Everybody get down!”

Before Strauss’s voice could ring out, enemy grenades hurled by the enemy landed on our concealed positions.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Kelton aimed his Russian-made AGS-17 grenade launcher at the bushes near the river surface and confirmed the impact points of eight shots.

Because it was close range, the gunner could see the grenades he had fired trajectories that fell beyond the brush and into the enemy’s positions.

“I want additional fire at the initial impact point!”

Kelton’s subordinate, who was observing the brush along the river with a sniper scope, tapped him on the shoulder and shouted.

Then, two other agents stepped on the tripod legs of the grenade machine gun, which had a strong recoil the moment it was fired, like the American Mk. 19 grenade machine gun, with their feet on the left and right.

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Kelton immediately pulled the trigger again, and another 30mm grenade flew through the brush toward the river.

Boom! Boom! Kwakwakwam! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Soon, eight 30mm grenades exploded in a flash in the bushes around the river.

Kelton watched the scene, then shouted to the mercenaries surrounding the helicopter that had landed in the overgrown area.

“Get me a new box of grenades! Now!”

At his direction, two mercenaries who had been guarding the perimeter ran towards the Jet Ranger helicopter.

Then, carrying a new box of grenades, he ran towards the spot where Kelton and two mercenaries were positioned.

While Kelton waited for them, he looked at the smoky area about 140 to 150 meters ahead, where the grenade impact was taking place.

Beyond the brush, high above the river, a Jet Ranger helicopter was still hovering, shining its searchlight on the brush that had now been cleared by grenades.

“How much did you say you’d pay me if I brought that CIA guy’s body to Salvatore?”

Muhammad Farhad, a mercenary from the Iraqi Army’s Golden Division, asked Kelton, as he watched the bushes where the grenades had landed through his night vision scope.

Kelton answered, lifting the grenade launcher’s feed cover and pulling out the belt containing three grenades.

“Why? If you get a piece of the bonus, you can buy a luxury mansion for your third wife in Kuwait? Did Allah approve of such extravagance and vanity?”

The mercenaries who had been surrounding and protecting Kelton laughed at those words.

Just in time, a new box of grenades arrived, and the mercenaries who brought them took out a new grenade belt and handed it to Kelton.

However, the Iraqi, Muhammad, who had just asked about the bonus, was just looking towards the bushes ahead without saying anything.

Kelton sensed something odd and immediately looked up at him and asked.

“What is it? What is it?”

“Boss! There’s a guy walking out from the bushes.”

At those words, Kelton lowered the night vision goggles he had placed on his bulletproof helmet down in front of his eyes.

Then he looked again at the bushes ahead, which he would clear with his machine gun.

As Muhammad had warned, someone was seen walking through the chest-high grass, but after a moment the person stopped walking.

Then, he raised one hand in the direction where Kelton’s group and the Jet Rangers were positioned.

A moment later, Kelton and his mercenaries, who had been tilting their heads, discovered an infrared laser being projected towards them.

Now, what had emerged from the messy bushes was shooting infrared lasers at them.

“What the hell is that kid doing? Shoot him right now!”

The moment the mercenary who brought the charcoal box shouted, Kelton knew something was wrong.

He quickly placed a new belt on the trigger of the grenade launcher and closed the feed cover.

Then, as he pulled back the charging handle and dropped to his knees to start firing grenades across the brush, the very thing he’d never expected happened.

Wheaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

The high-frequency sound of aerial bombs dropped from high altitudes before reaching the ground poured down on Kelton and his group.

Immediately afterwards, the last sound that Kelton heard was a terrifying explosion.

Kwaaaaang!

A 500-pound bomb landed on the spot where I was shining my infrared laser.

Not only did the guys who had been firing their machine guns disappear into the smoke created by the terrifying explosive force, but the Jet Ranger helicopter that had landed behind them also disappeared.

The next moment, the remaining Jet Ranger helicopters circling the riverside area opened fire on us with their M240 machine guns.

Even amid the loud noise of the helicopter, the machine gun fire could be heard clearly.

Their helicopters were firing concentrated fire from 120-130 meters above our position in the 10 o’clock direction with the left side of the aircraft pointed towards us.

Soon, Team Leader Decker shouts at me from between the fallen tree trunks.

“Kim, shoot the laser at the second helicopter! Come on!”

I quickly spun around and aimed my laser at the enemy helicopters that had their searchlights fixed on this area.

Immediately, Decker shouted into the hand microphone of his satellite relay radio.

“Citadel Two, drop the ‘Five Hundred Pounder (Mk. 82 Aerial Bomb)’ on the second target! Now! Now! Now!”

Machine gun bullets from the enemy came pouring in where I was standing.

In my field of vision, I see grass stems snapping one after another, punctured by bullets, but I’m not scared.

When the grenades explode, instead of being scared by the shock, I am completely shocked and cannot see anything.

I continued to shine the laser at the enemy helicopter, unfazed by the searchlight beam gradually drawing closer to me.

By now, a 500-pound aerial bomb will be dropping from a CIA MQ-9 Reaper, call sign “Citadel Two.”

Preston’s Citadel One, the Reaper, arrived slightly later than the seaplane, carrying Hellfire missiles and aerial bombs on both wings.

As the second wave of grenades began to fly in from the helicopters that had landed near the jungle, we called in Hellfire missiles.

However, after receiving advice from Reaper pilots on the US mainland that moving targets could not be hit with Hellfires, we changed our request to an aerial bombing, risking a firefight.

As a result, amidst two grenade explosions, I was the only one left unscathed, so I ended up firing the laser to guide the bombing.

Without even looking at Decker, who was lying on the wooden pillars, his head, face, and neck were covered in blood as he guided the second aerial bomb to the helicopter of the drug dealers.

Searchlights closing in on me, green tracers and invisible rifle bullets.

But at this moment, I was overwhelmed by the feeling of floating in weightless space.

The feeling that I won’t be destroyed by those bullets, that I’m invincible, allows me to shine my laser at enemy helicopters without wavering.

Is this feeling, this situation, is this what’s happening in my real world?

Kwaaaaang!

Moments later, a giant dragon leapt out of the river’s surface with a flash of light right before my eyes and swallowed the Jet Ranger helicopter.

A helicopter hovering nearby was blown up in the air by the powerful explosion of an aerial bomb that fell on the river.

The shockwave from the bomb was so strong that it seemed as if an entire area of ​​brush had been knocked down, and my body staggered as if I had dived into water from a height of several tens of meters.

It felt like someone had hit my lower jaw with a fist, and I felt double or triple dizzy in my head.

I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the shock, but I gave up as something pounded in my stomach.

I looked at the area of ​​the river that the second bomb had swept away, barely holding on to my churning stomach and the dizziness that threatened to block my vision at any moment.

There was nothing to be seen there except a huge plume of smoke and dust.

Wow, shit!

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