Jasper's voice echoed in the conference room, each syllable striking the hearts of those present like a hamr.
"Operation 'Blood Feud' will use 3 MQ-9 'Grim Reaper' drones, launching from the aircraft carrier 'Truman' in the Red Sea, following a predetermined route across Sudanese airspace, ultimately reaching Cindy Town near Northern Darfur for a precise assassination. Mission target: Confirm and eliminate high-value target Song Heping and his core team."
The head of the tech departnt, Williams, couldn't hold back: "This route is 1100 kiloters long, crossing three UN Peacekeeping Forces' air defense identification zones. Our drones don't have stealth capabilities, and if they're spotted—"
"Then don't get spotted."
Pence interrupted him, fingers firmly tapping on the map spread across the table.
"We've analyzed the radar deploynts of all UN forces here, here, and here—"
He pointed to three red circles on the map.
"These are blind spots. As long as the drones maintain a flight altitude below 500 ters and use the terrain for cover."
Jasper continued reading: "The drones will carry two AGM-114R9X 'Blade' Hellfire Missiles, missiles that use six folding blades instead of explosive warheads, capable of precisely killing the target while minimizing collateral damage."
A light chuckle emanated from the corner of the conference room.
Everyone turned to look; it was drone expert Carl Mitchell from the action team.
"What's so funny, Mitchell?"
Pence squinted, visibly displeased with Mitchell, the tech expert.
Mitchell shrugged: "Sir, the R9X can indeed reduce explosive damage, but the thing slices the target like a human salad, and using 3 Predators on one person seems a bit over the top, doesn't it?"
"It's not over the top at all." Pence recalled previous losses, grinding his molars together: "We must ensure he's a hundred percent dead."
The conference room fell into a brief silence.
Jasper cleared his throat and continued: "The flight plan is divided into three stages: The first stage is taking off from the aircraft carrier, flying along the Red Sea coastline to Sudan Port; the second stage is turning southwest, crossing the heart of Northern Sudan; the third stage is climbing to 3000 ters to confirm the target before approaching the target region."
Williams raised his hand again: "Sir, the drone needs to refuel mid-flight. 1100 kiloters is the theoretical maximum range of the 'Grim Reaper', but we have to consider headwinds and evasive maneuvers, circumstances which will affect fuel consumption."
"Solution?" Pence waved impatiently: "I want a solution, I don't want to hear about problems."
"Set a virtual refueling point at 80% of the route."
Williams pulled up the map on his tablet. "
There's an abandoned airstrip built by the Soviets back in the 70s. We can pre-drop fuel and automated refueling equipnt, with our Delta Force currently deployed in Northern Sudan making contact there; the terrain is flat, suitable for a temporary landing of the MQ-9."
Pence stared at the coordinates for a few seconds and finally nodded: "Good, I like this idea. We'll do as you suggested. Any further questions?"
Lisa Chen, the head of the foreign departnt, hesitantly spoke: "What about the legal aspect? Entering Sudanese airspace without permission, if the drone gets shot down or the wreckage is discovered—"
Pence bluntly replied: "There are absolutely no such possibilities, as long as we avoid the radar identification zones of the UN Peacekeeping Forces. With the capabilities of the Sudan Governnt or Song Heping, there are no ans to shoot down our MQ-9 drone. I think this plan is great, does anyone else have opinions?"
He looked around the room.
The attendees had no objections, all eyes on Pence, awaiting his final decision.
In fact, such assassination operations, the CIA is no stranger to executing.
Everyone was used to it by now.
Killing soone via a drone feed felt completely different from killing in a face-to-face gunfight.
Agents encountering drone target elimination for the first ti always felt peculiar; those explosive and gory visuals sowhat resembled ga graphics.
With the screen providing a sense of detachnt, any sense of guilt was greatly reduced, bearing no moral burden whatsoever.
Seeing the tacit approval from everyone, Pence showed a satisfied expression.
"Alright, since there are no objections, the operation plan will comnce within 72 hours. Mitchell, you'll be responsible for drone control and command; Williams, ensure all logistical support systems are flawless; Jasper, I need real-ti action reports. eting adjourned."
People left the conference room one after another, leaving only Pence and Jasper.
Pence stared at the marked Cindy Town on the map, fingers unconsciously tapping on the desk.
"This ti must succeed, Jasper." he said in a low voice, "You know? Last ti's failure cost us two Green Berets and half a Delta Force squad, the director has already smashed cups, if we fail again… it won't only be glass cups shattered."
Jasper nodded repeatedly: "I understand."
"You must personally take charge, keep a close eye on this, ensure nothing goes wrong."
Pence gazed at the Stars and Stripes hanging on the wall, remarking thoughtfully: "I initially considered deploying ground combat units for support in this assassination… but…"
He paused, lips pressed tightly together, anger creeping across his face.
"Honestly, I feel uneasy, that damn China Person is incredibly cunning, I've never faced such a cunning adversary before…"
Jasper said: "Honestly, last ti's operation failure, I always felt there were doubts."
"What doubts?"
Pence suddenly cast a sharp glance towards Jasper.
"It's…"
Jasper felt as though ice was stuffed down his throat, shivering unexpectedly.
"Song Heping seed to know our operation's details and route ahead of ti… the location of his ambush was incredibly precise… logically…"
As he spoke, he stopped to subtly gauge Pence's expression.
Pence's brow furrowed deeply: "You're saying there's a mole among us? A leak in intelligence?"
Jasper swallowed nervously.
He knew if this were proven true, it would question Pence's leadership from a different angle.
One who fails to maintain confidentiality doesn't deserve the position before him.
To Jasper's surprise, Pence was not as furious as anticipated; instead, he was plunged into deeper contemplation.
After contemplating for a full minute, he suddenly reached out to tap the desk: "What you said isn't unreasonable, inform the internal investigation unit, imdiately conduct a thorough investigation on the information flow and those in contact with it during the last operation, from within the bureau to external, including military officers familiar with this plan, scrutinize and search in detail, ensure the mole is found!"
"Yes!"
Jasper secretly exhaled in relief.
"Sir, I'll proceed to do as you've said now."
"Go…"
Pence suddenly seed to collapse into his chair, raising his hand slightly in indication: "Rember to carry out the internal investigation quietly, don't make too much noise."
"I understand." Jasper said considerately: "Sir, I know what to do."
Just as he turned to leave, there was an urgent knock on the door outside.
"Who?!"
"Sir, it's Rees."
"Co in."
The door opened, and today's duty intelligence officer Rees rushed in like the wind.
"There's been an incident!"
"What incident?!"
Right now, Pence dreaded hearing the phrase "There's been an incident."
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