Bucharest International Airport, departure lounge.
Agent Johnson from Group A stood in the corner of the lounge, eyes fixed on the check-in gate.
The digital clock in the hall showed the ti as 10:21 AM.
According to the intelligence leaked from MI6, Song Heping's flight would land in 30 minutes.
However, Johnson appeared sowhat nonchalant.
His superior, Wright, believed that Song Heping would never take this flight to Bucharest.
Because no one would be foolish enough to disclose specific flight details over an unreliable phone line.
The analysts thought it was a smoke bomb.
The purpose was to gather CIA operatives at the airport and cover up their landing at Krolassi Airport.
Everyone believed Wright's judgent was correct.
No one cared about Simon's suggestion.
"How can a defeated general talk about courage?"
"What's the situation on your side?"
Johnson pressed the hidden radio communication button in his cuff, routinely checking in.
"I found nothing unusual on my end."
"Neither do I."
"I don't think Song will enter here."
"He's listed on the KB cadre list, it's unlikely he would risk entering through a civilian channel, too risky, and the Romanian police wouldn't let him through."
"I bet they'll land at Krolassi Airport, after all, it's a private airport, and entry checks are not as strict there."
"Whatever, in over twenty minutes, if the flight arrives and we don't see Song Heping, we can leave."
A few colleagues scattered in different positions in the lounge began to discuss Song Heping idly.
"Still, better to be cautious."
As the team leader, Johnson was much more vigilant than the others.
"Don't let your guard down, just endure for half an hour more and we can leave."
As he said this, he could not help but yawn.
He hadn't slept well these past few days.
To capture Song Heping, the team mbers had been on high alert, waiting and working around the clock.
He started missing the sunlight on the California beaches.
Once this operation was over, he could apply for leave, and then he must go surfing on the beach.
Just as Johnson closed his mouth after yawning, a group of passengers walked past him.
A woman, dragging a suitcase and seemingly in a hurry to check in, blew past him like the wind, accidentally brushing against him.
"Be careful, ma'am!"
Johnson couldn't help but remind her.
He looked down at his left arm.
That woman seed to have bumped into his left arm.
Where his gaze landed, nothing seed amiss.
He couldn't help but laugh.
He was being too paranoid.
Just a woman, what damage could a light touch cause?
But when she brushed against him, his left arm seed to feel a slight prick, perhaps the suitcase handle banged into him, giving him a numb feeling.
11:10 AM.
Turkish Airlines flight T2322 had already landed and reached the tarmac, the shuttle bus had set up the walkway, and passengers were disembarking and heading towards the exit.
In the safe house in Bucharest, Wright stood by the table, staring at the real-ti footage on the screen from the hidden caras worn by the field agents, unconsciously tapping his fingers on the table.
"Group A reports, everything at the airport is normal, no suspicious targets found."
The agent's voice ca through the headset, and Wright smirked.
Indeed, Song Heping hadn't co at all.
He turned to look at another screen—Group B had already reached the outskirts of Krolassi Private Airport, where drone footage showed several black SUVs parked at the edge of the runway, with several brawny n on alert near the tarmac.
These people were evidently military-trained fighters, with bulges at their waists likely indicating they were carrying pistols or similar weapons.
"Target spotted!" The Group B leader quietly reported, "Suspected trained military personnel waiting for pickup."
Wright's lips curled upwards slightly.
He had bet correctly.
Song Heping had indeed chosen Krolassi instead of foolishly following the original plan to fly Turkish Airlines to Bucharest.
"Keep a close watch, prepare for a raid." He ordered, "This ti the initiative is entirely in our hands. I require you to capture Song Heping alive."
However, just as he finished giving the order, suddenly a chaotic static noise ca through the headset, followed by the urgent breathing of Group A's agent.
"Sir! There's trouble at the airport!"
Wright jerked his head towards the airport surveillance footage — the cara of a CIA agent suddenly shook as he seed to clutch his chest, staggered a few steps forward, and then fell heavily to the ground!
The cara quickly tilted towards the ceiling of the departure lounge, the white do and bright lights blindingly lit up the entire screen.
"Johnson! What happened to Charlie?!" Wright glanced at the fallen agent's number and demanded sharply.
"I don't know! He suddenly..."
Johnson hadn't finished speaking, and the cara began to shake.
Soon, like the first agent who fell, he too collapsed to the ground. Even through the screen, the thud of a body hitting the floor felt painful.
"FUCK! What's going on!"
Wright's face turned pale instantly.
Sothing's wrong!
The agents were dropping one by one.
A word flashed through his mind quickly—assassination!
"Johnson! Answer ! Do you hear !"
"Sir...my heart..."
Johnson's voice was mixed with groans, sounding extrely painful.
Imdiately after, the third agent fell, with the exact sa symptoms—
Pale face, purple lips, like a sudden heart attack.
Wright's heart seed to be gripped tightly by an invisible hand.
Sothing's going to happen!
Song Heping would really enter through the comrcial route at the airport!
This madman!
Simon's prediction was right!
I've been tricked!
This is not so "double-track strategy," it's a typical "three-layer nested strategy"—first, deliberately leaking the wrong flight to MI6 (Turkish Airlines), luring the Western intelligence agencies to believe this was a smoke bomb; second, creating a commotion through the GRU at Krolassi, making the opponent believe that was the real route; ultimately using the opponent's misjudgnt, directly adopting the first confird route!
"Team B! Imdiately check the ard personnel at Krolassi Private Airport!"
He realized sothing was off early on and issued the action command in advance.
"Yes, sir!"
Inside Krolassi Private Airport, seven or eight SUVs rushed toward the tarmac.
A private plane that had just arrived on the tarmac hadn't even stopped when several SUVs had already approached from different directions, surrounding it in the center.
And the strong n who had been on guard by the tarmac all turned around to draw the pistols from their waists.
"They have weapons!"
Inside the SUV, Team B's action leader loudly reported over the radio.
"Be careful!"
Then, he picked up a loudspeaker and started shouting at the slightly bewildered ard n who were surrounded: "You are surrounded, drop your weapons, get on the ground with your hands on your head! Don't make us send you to et God with gunfire!"
A few ard n looked at each other, and the leader shouted, "Who are you guys!?"
"Romanian Special Service."
The action leader of Team B directly reported the na of this unit.
The Special Service is responsible for counter-terrorism work.
So reporting this na is very intimidating.
Moreover, the CIA's actions here did indeed get authorization from the Romanian governnt. After the 9/11 attacks, counter-terrorism is a globally politically correct endeavor, and no governnt dares refuse joint counter-terrorism operations, especially since this involves important figures on the UN's terrorist list.
The door of the Gulfstream private plane opened, and an elderly man in a suit stepped out slowly.
Stunned by the scene in front of him, the elderly man said, "What's going on?!"
He raised his hands as he spoke.
The leading ard man turned back and said, "Mr. Johnny, these people claim to be with the Special Service, demanding our imdiate surrender."
"Surrender?!"
The old man looked totally confused.
"I am the president of MKK Group. I ca to discuss investnt matters with your governnt, not so terrorist. These are all my bodyguards!"
He was clearly a bit angry.
The action leader of Team B was also taken aback.
The president of MKK Group?
Ca to discuss an investnt project with the Romanian governnt?
SHIT!
This must be a mistake!
But now the action is already in motion.
He picked up the loudspeaker again and shouted, "I don't care what company president you are, imdiately disembark, and get on the ground, have all your people drop their weapons, hands on heads, on the ground, now! Or I'll have to use force!"
Poor old Johnny looked at dozens of guns pointed at him, and despite being a person who'd seen a lot, he still felt a bit panicked.
"OK! OK! Don't shoot!"
He shouted to the bodyguards, "Do as they say, drop your weapons and surrender."
Afterwards, he shouted in the direction of Team B's leader, "I protest! I protest your Special Service's misbehavior! I will speak to the President!"
As he spoke, he waved his ivory cane in protest.
The Team B leader, watching this sowhat comical scene, also felt unsure and picked up his radio to contact Wright.
"Sir, sothing's not right..."
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