Just as Song Heping was contemplating how to handle the dire situation if his identity was exposed, the tense expression of the military policeman across from him suddenly relaxed, and he handed over the docunts and boarding pass.
"No problem, Dr. Chen, have a pleasant journey."
As the two military policen walked away, Song Heping felt a huge weight lifted off his chest and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.
If he had shown a flaw here, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Ten minutes later, in the Beirut Airport waiting lounge, Song Heping pulled his hat brim even lower.
Outside the glass curtain wall, an Antonov An-148-100E aircraft was taxiing on the runway, the emblem of a Russian private airline gleaming coldly in the setting sun.
This was a chartered flight hired by the International Humanitarian Relief Organization, tasked with bringing back those conducting humanitarian aid missions to Europe.
The An-148-100E aircraft wasn't advanced; it was a legacy from the forr Soviet Union. After its disintegration, many such planes fell into the hands of private airlines, taking up cargo and passenger transport tasks in Europe and around the world.
The only advantage was the cheap price of this Russian airline, which was incomparable to many Western private airlines in terms of economy and affordability.
Song Heping touched the passport in his pocket; the photo showed him wearing black-rimd glasses, and the na had been changed to "Chen Zhiyuan".
This fake passport was specially customized for them by Sara, and now it beca his only lifeline.
The lounge broadcast announced: "Flight RA-61735 to Cairo is about to depart, passengers please proceed to boarding."
Song Heping stood up and caught a glimpse of two n in black suits checking passengers' docunts at the security check entrance.
Their actions were professional, with their right hand always at their waist – a standard gun-holding stance for military personnel.
He walked quickly to the boarding gate and handed his boarding pass to the flight attendant.
"Wait."
A man in a suit stepped forward to stop the flight attendant's extended hand, glanced at Song Heping, and took the boarding pass.
"Passport and identification?"
The boarding pass was fine, but the man in the suit seed unwilling to let it go.
Song Heping's mind raced.
If he acted too compliant, perhaps the other party would be more suspicious.
So he raised his voice: "Our docunts were already checked by military police outside and confird to be fine, why check them again here? Are you from the sa departnt? Why waste our ti with repeated checks? We are here on humanitarian aid missions, where is your superior? Call him, I want to see him!"
Song Heping's contradictory action made Jiang Feng's back break out in a cold sweat.
Even Sara hadn't expected Song Heping to choose to confront the checks here.
The air solidified.
Everyone around seed to be attracted by the sudden situation here, casting curious glances.
The two n in suits probably hadn't expected to encounter such a tough case.
After all, their identity wasn't just ordinary military police, they were personnel of Liban's intelligence agency.
Internally, many of Liban's intelligence agency had actually been bought by Mossad.
This ti, their high-profile cooperation with Mossad under the banner of capturing a terrorist had underlying reasons they understood well.
Ordinary people would be very cooperative when facing them, who would dare resist?
This was the first ti they encountered soone as defiant as Song Heping.
If this escalated, it would be hard to explain.
After all, this was the boarding gate of a chartered flight for the International Humanitarian Relief Organization.
After a good ten seconds of standoff, one of the n in suits suddenly smiled: "Sorry for the inconvenience, due to an urgent situation, we increased security asures. Please understand."
"Understand? I've already been checked three tis since entering the airport, this is the fourth ti! What exactly are you looking for?"
The man in the suit internally sighed; of course he could explain why.
After all, they were cooperating with Mossad.
They were feeling guilty inside; if they attracted external attention, soone might investigate the reasons for their actions, exposing the secret dealings between them and Mossad.
So things were not ant to see the light.
The other man in a suit noticed the growing number of onlookers and quickly nudged his colleague, whispering sothing.
"Alright, maybe we were too tense."
The one responsible for the check compromised.
"You may proceed, sir."
He then handed the boarding pass back to Song Heping.
After that, for all the passengers on that chartered flight, the two n in suits perford cursory checks, barely glancing at the boarding passes before letting them through.
Song Heping handed his boarding pass to the flight attendant, who gave a professional smile: "Welco aboard, Mr. Chen."
Having passed the boarding gate and walking down the corridor, Jiang Feng wiped the sweat off his brow and quietly said, "Old squad leader, you scared to death just now."
Song Heping said: "The more you fear, the more problems arise. Normal people being checked so many tis wouldn't be without anger; the quieter and more compliant you are, the more seriously they check, which might really cause trouble."
Sara whispered beside him: "You can't act on your own like this; you should consult ."
Song Heping laughed: "Consult you in that situation? Ask if I can get angry?"
Sara was speechless.
"Ghost" had said that Song Heping was a very special person. Based on the evaluations in recent years, many believed he was a "madman".
Now it seems, indeed...
The cabin was filled with a faint sll of disinfectant.
Song Heping found his seat, 15A by the window.
He stuffed his backpack into the luggage compartnt and sat down, feeling his back soaked in cold sweat.
The captain erged from the cockpit, muttering in Russian to the flight attendant.
Song Heping understood Russian; it seed he was complaining about the delayed departure.
This captain had a huge wine-red nose; from the conversation with the flight attendant, he caught the na, Antonov.
Jiang Feng quietly asked Song Heping: "Do you think this guy seems to have drunk vodka?"
Song Heping sniffed.
Indeed, the air had a faint sll of alcohol.
His gaze fell on the coffee cup in Antonov's hand; he instantly understood, this guy probably secretly mixed vodka into his coffee.
"You're right, he likely put alcohol in his coffee."
"Damn!" Jiang Feng suddenly panicked, looking around and then said: "Do you think there will be a problem?"
"Can you not have such a jinxed mouth?"
His words made Song Heping uneasy.
"Russian pilots are indeed a bit wild, but their skills are quite good."
Jiang Feng couldn't help but close his eyes: "God bless."
The plane started taxiing, the roar of the engine gradually increasing.
Song Heping looked out the window, the outline of Beirut's city blurred in the dusk. He closed his eyes, recalling the encounter in the Hezbollah-controlled area a few days ago.
Bullets whistling past his ears, along with the screams of Mossad agents.
"Sir, do you need a blanket?"
The flight attendant's voice brought him back to reality.
Song Heping shook his head, his gaze falling on the display screen of the seat in front. The flight map showed they were flying south along the eastern coast of the diterranean, expected to arrive in Cairo in two hours.
United States, Langley.
In the holographic combat room on the third basent floor of CIA headquarters, blue light flowed across the circular screen.
Technical director Amy Carter froze the surveillance footage on a blurry silhouette, her finger moving quickly across the touch screen: "Bone spacing comparison complete, tibial curvature match rate 98.7%, it's him."
Deputy Director Pence loosened his tie and stared at the man boarding the plane in the footage.
The Antonov An-148-100E of the Russian private airline glimred coldly in the infrared imaging, the tail number RA-61735 like a thorn in his eyes.
"Damn it! Is Mossad nurturing a group of blind n?"
He grabbed the encrypted phone, his nails scratching the glass table with a screeching sound.
The past few days Deputy Director Pence was extrely frustrated.
Kelly was still lying in the hospital, in a vegetative state.
Doctors said she might never wake up.
An operation in Beirut that was supposed to capture a special target turned into a counterattack used by Song Heping.
Soone actually used themselves as bait, risking their life to attract all the forces deployed around Beirut, even forcing Kelly to call for Mossad operational support.
In the end, even Mossad got involved, suffering heavy losses, yet failing to capture the target!
Not only was the target not captured, Kelly's command center was tracked down by Song Heping's n and fiercely attacked.
This damned China People!
Pence wished to flay Song Heping alive to alleviate his deep hatred!
These days, Mossad issued a black kill order, and CIA utilized all its resources in Liban to trap the injured Song Heping in Liban.
Intelligence indicated he might be hiding in the Pearl Party-controlled area, which greatly troubled Pence.
Sea routes and land routes were the most likely ways for Song Heping to leave Liban, since the aerial corridor required passing through airport customs and security checks, not easily achievable.
However, being an old fox in the intelligence community, Pence wouldn't overlook any possibility.
The less likely it seed, the more probable it might be.
He had communicated with Mossad's Z East operations director Yager, asking him to monitor the airport and utilize internal resources in Liban to enhance airport security checks, even syncing the surveillance footage from airport caras for analysis at Langley.
CIA's video analysis system was very smart; it could recognize facial features and even iris and bones for height and physique-based data comparison.
Much of Song Heping's personal information had been collected; Pence always sensed sothing might happen in the aerial corridor.
Yager assured him, saying he had deployed more than twenty people at the airport and had Liban's internal personnel tighten military police security.
"If that China People plans to leave by plane, I guarantee he'll be caught once he enters the airport!"
But the result…
Just this?!
"Damn Yager!"
The phone wasn't connected yet, and Pence already heard his teeth grinding.
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