Soon, Song Heping led the two to the edge of the shantytown area.
"The fish market is just ahead!"
Song Heping growled, pointing to a row of low shops not far away.
This is the edge of Pier No. 3 area.
Pier No. 3 is a fishing pier, and the shops selling seafood are inside the pier area, densely packed. Now it's quiet, but judging from the scale, it used to be very lively.
Finally, they found the eting point. Recalling the close-range gunfight earlier, Antonov spat and wiped the dust off his face: "This damned place is livelier than Chechnya!"
Nura's eyes scanned the surroundings above her scarf cautiously: "Sothing's not right... It's too quiet."
The vendors at the fish market had already evacuated, leaving only smashed wooden boxes and scattered fish entrails.
Many shop signs hung askew, the doors ajar, with no light seeping out.
"What's so strange about that? The place is a ss. Anyone who can run would have; let's not think too much, I don't want to stay here a minute longer. Let's find the contact and hide in a safe place, then figure out a way to leave this damned place!"
Antonov wasn't concerned, thinking Nura was being neurotic.
"Better to be cautious."
Song Heping stopped Antonov, who was about to move forward, and looked towards the seafood shops in the distance within the pier.
"Find a place to scout the periter first. Better safe than sorry."
"You're being too cautious..."
Antonov looked back at the way they ca.
"There are four corpses lying back there; their comrades will definitely search for us. If we don't quickly find a safe place, we're all dead."
"No matter how dangerous, we can't rush!"
Song Heping glared at the burly Da Maozi in front of him.
"Assemble your weapons imdiately; Anton, find a vantage point, get so distance, and use your cara equipnt to check if there are any snipers around. Be careful."
"Alright..."
Antonov had to compromise.
Song Heping was the boss. He had absolute authority. What he said went.
The group found a secluded corner, took out the components and ammunition from their backpacks, and began assembling their weapons.
Song Heping had an AKM assault rifle, Nura a AK74U, and Anton a VSS Vintorez sniper rifle.
Once the trio finished assembling, Song Heping glanced around and said, "Nura, you and Anton are in charge of the observation post. I'll go by myself."
"Are you insane?!"
Antonov's eyes widened.
"How will you manage on your own?"
"It's safer if I'm alone."
Song Heping didn't want to say anything that would hurt their pride.
A forr Russian Air Force officer, a woman.
Taking them along would be a burden, as he'd have to protect them.
But saying that seed too harsh, so Song Heping added, "We don't need so many people for the eting. Besides, if there's a problem, bringing all three of us would be pointless. It's better for to go alone—the buildings there are chaotic, making it easier to escape alone."
Those words finally cald Antonov, who felt a bit embarrassed. He nodded, "You do have a point... "
"Test the communication channel; start imdiately once it's clear."
Song Heping turned on the switch of the small tactical radio from his backpack.
This was a small tactical radio that could establish a communication channel for team operations within a 5-10 kiloter range.
Soon after, Antonov and Nura's voices ca through the earpiece.
"Boss, I'm in position."
"I'm in position too, on a water tower."
Both had taken vantage points on the periter.
Song Heping started checking his ammunition while speaking, "Anton, scout using your cara equipnt."
Among the three, Antonov was the one with the cara equipnt.
The lens could magnify, serving as a makeshift surveillance device.
"Doesn't look like I see anything."
After a while, Antonov reported through the channel, "But I also feel it's too quiet..."
"Do you see Shop 17?"
"I roughly see the location; it's pitch black."
Antonov sighed, "Can't see anything clearly."
"Are there any snipers around?"
"Doesn't seem like it..."
"Doesn't seem like it?"
"Yeah... what I have isn't proper surveillance equipnt..."
Anton began complaining about the equipnt.
"Alright, keep watching. I'm heading in."
After saying this, Song Heping started moving towards the seafood shop area in the fishing dock, gun in hand.
Upon leaving the shantytown area, Song Heping paused when he saw the open space ahead.
There was about fifty ters of open ground between the shantytown and the pier, mostly dirt, with patches of wild, unknown grass growing here and there.
Perhaps it was the innate vigilance left in him by the Special Forces.
But whenever night and open ground ca together, Song Heping naturally felt a sense of unease from deep within.
He watched from the corner of the wall for a mont, then turned and left.
He decided to not go through there, but instead to take the road from another direction, then circle around to the north, and approach the pier area from there.
"Boss, where are you? I can't see you."
Quickly, Antonov inquired over the channel to Song Heping.
He realized he could no longer see Song Heping from his previous vantage point.
"It's good you can't see . Just watch Shop 17 and its surroundings."
In the roadside thickets north of Pier No. 3.
A shadow appeared here like a ghost.
Song Heping could hear his own sowhat heavy breathing.
He had just detoured roughly 800 ters to find this spot where he could infiltrate the No. 3 harbor area.
Soon, he arrived outside the barbed-wire fence of the harbor area.
This place probably hadn't seen many people co by, with wild grass and overgrown trees everywhere.
Once past the fence, there was the shop area. Through the barbed wire, Song Heping could see the outermost shops.
He took out pliers and carefully cut one wire, then another.
Sweat dripped, landing on the pliers.
As he cut the wire, Song Heping constantly scanned his surroundings.
This damned place did have a sowhat eerie feel...
At last, a large hole was cut in the barbed wire. Song Heping grabbed the wire and gently pulled it open, laying it on the ground. He carefully pressed it down with stones to prevent it from snapping back and making noise, then slipped through like a hunting fox, disappearing to the other side.
anwhile, two kiloters from the Pier No. 3 shop area, a Volkswagen van was parked under the shadowy canopy of roadside woods.
Inside, one of the walls was filled with screens, and several CIA agents were staring intently at them.
Jasper and Simon sat in the deepest part of the cabin.
Jasper's face was stern, brows furrowed, occasionally glancing at the screens.
On the screens was a flat map, clearly of the No. 3 harbor district and nearby streets.
On the map, several green dots were scattered around the shop area.
"Don't worry; he'll co here for sure. Don't be nervous."
Seeing the restless Jasper, Simon suddenly comforted, "I know him; he'll definitely go in alone to find the contact."
Jasper's mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say sothing, but ended up saying nothing.
This was the closest he ever got to success.
Tonight would prove whether the intel from the mole was genuine.
He glanced at his watch.
It was 8:30 PM.
"FUCK! Why aren't they here yet? Weren't they ashore long ago?"
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