The office of the director of the Linhai HTD Bureau fifteen minutes ago.
The gray-haired director ended his recording and began to destroy data on the computer. After several days of unease, after a phone call last night, it all became a reality. The director left his home, which had been closely monitored by federal agents, and arrived at his office half an hour earlier, as usual, and began to do what he was doing right now.
His expression was calm, the wrinkles on his face were like a striped tie around his neck, and he was meticulous. Ever since he became a member of the rebels many years ago, he knew that his life would always end this way. Whether he was a professor of psychology at the First Military Academy or later transferred to the federal department, he always had this mental preparation.
The director didn't know why he was being targeted by the FBI, and his actions against him must have been classified very high, because Shi Qinghai was in the fourth division, but he didn't find any abnormality... I think Shi Qinghai had already entered the surveillance area.
After destroying all the call records in the computer, the director opened the safe, lowered his body with some difficulty, and took out a stack of paper from the interlayer. These papers recorded some codes and codes, which were the foundation of the entire network he was in charge of. At a time when technology is extremely advanced, anything recorded in intelligent tools can be at least partially repaired after the fact. The anti-government army's spy network has always used this most primitive recording method with great care.
Stuffed the paper into the shredder, and filled the shredded paper in a wastepaper basket. The director walked into the bathroom attached to the office, covered the smoke temperature sensor with a damp towel, lit the lighter, and started burning those things. The codes and codes that shut the lives of many people.
After rushing the ashes into the underwater channel, the director let out a long sigh of relief, secretly thankful that the officials of the FBI probably wanted to obtain more information, so they gave themselves time to deal with the aftermath.
Walking back to the office, the director's thick fingers subconsciously played with the lighter, which was a 50th birthday gift from Shi Qinghai. He took a deep breath, took out his phone, checked the time, and confirmed that there were still a few minutes before his appointment with Shi Qinghai, the boy should not have entered the cafe at this time, so he was relieved.
A clumsy finger pressed a button on the phone, and a pre-prepared recording was encrypted and uploaded to a temporary file storage on the network.
The director turned back, quickly locked the thick door of the office, and then walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, carefully watching the increasingly crowded Shuanghui Street and the quiet side alley under the glass window.
Not knowing what he saw, he calmly took a pill, took out a pistol from the drawer, and pulled the trigger toward the floor-to-ceiling window—a few crisp snaps, and a few round holes appeared on the sturdy, windproof floor-to-ceiling window. , but the arrangement is somewhat inappropriate. The director shrugged, thinking that when he was training in the mountains, he always thought that marksmanship was not a very important thing, but now it seems that he is wrong.
Panting, he picked up the heavy swivel chair and smashed it against the floor-to-ceiling glass. The swivel chair bounced back, and the glass window showed cracks that made him happy.
At this time, there was a sound of knocking on the door.
The director held the phone back in his hand, looked at the floor-to-ceiling glass full of spider-like cracks, and slammed it into it!
The door was forcibly smashed open by the agents, and at the same time, the director's fat body also smashed through the glass and began to fall towards the ground far and high.
The wind whistled, and the director in the air saw the subordinates who were eating breakfast downstairs and couldn't help but smile.
Then die.
There were screams and screams at the interface between Shuanghui Street and the side alley. In the early morning, no matter who saw such a tragedy, saw the deformed corpse, and the blood-water slurry sprayed, they would be disgusted and scared and speechless. .
Shi Qinghai held the sandwich bread tightly in his hand, and walked into the crowd unobtrusively. He stared at the director's gray hair on top of the car, and his face quickly turned pale, similar to the faces of the people around him.
On the snow on the ground not far from the car, is a mobile phone that has been smashed into pieces and is difficult to piece together in a short time.
Snow-white, blood-red, Shi Qinghai's round eyes, as if unable to bear the stimulation of such brightly contrasting colors, blinked.
Today, the snowstorm in Linhai Prefecture has stopped, but people are still used to wearing windbreakers with snow caps. He is no exception. He is like a pedestrian who is occupied by panic and nausea. He lifts the snow cap to cover his face, and walks slightly He passed the main entrance of the HTD bureau building quickly but not too quickly, and walked towards the distance.
Not long after he left, seven or eight agents from the FBI in the capital rushed out of the building, rushed to the car, and began nervously calling something on the intercom.
"This is a pre-recorded recording."
"If you can hear this recording, it means you haven't been exposed, or you haven't been caught by the government. All my communication tools have been monitored and I can only use this last method to speak to you."
"I had contact with Deputy Minister Yang Jinsong of the Ministry of National Defense, and I wanted to use my colleagues back then to try to get some information from him. But not long ago, he died, and I seemed to be exposed."
"I asked myself that my contact with Deputy Minister Yang was within the scope of the contact between the Dean of the First Academy and a professor, and he was a top anti-Qinglongshan soldier, so I don't understand why he died. , will expose me."
"Yang Jinsong's death should be related to the Linhai Gymnasium incident. If anyone wants to associate that incident with the organization, then the connection between me and Yang Jinsong is the best way."
"You are the person who has the closest contact with me, and you know Xu Le, so you should also be a part of this plan."
"I confirm that there is a traitor at the top of the organization. From now on, you can't trust anyone except him. If it is exposed, you can try to find a person in Hong Kong City, the person's address is... "
Next to a quiet street near the sea, under the hardy birch trees, there is a small telephone booth covered with thin snow. In the phone booth, Shi Qinghai carefully listened to the last words that the director teacher left to him, fell into silence, and his eyes became wet.
Walking out of the phone booth, he raised the cold sandwich bread in his hand and took a bite. The sweet and sour ketchup made his stomach twitch and almost vomited. Throwing the bread in the bin, he waved a taxi.
A few dozen minutes later, the taxi passed the Linhai Overseas Service Office Building. Through the glass, Shi Qinghai watched the strange quietness of the floor where the fourth department was located, and his beautiful peach eyes gradually narrowed.
He smiled at the driver in the front seat and said, "Brother, how much will it cost if you charter your car to Ueno?"
A group of teams stopped on the tarmac of Linhaizhou Airport. Tai Zhiyuan, who was wearing a brown windbreaker, walked out of a brand new unmarked black car. His face was as pale as usual. He stared at the document in his hand, and a blush of anger gradually emerged from the paleness. .
He hurried through the document in the car, only to succeed in breaking his composure. Tai Zhiyuan angrily threw the document into the snow, and said to Steward Jin beside him, "What nonsense! Yang Jinsong, a director of the HTD bureau, and then Shi Qinghai... What are those trash in the government trying to do? Do you want to tell me that those soldiers who engaged in assassination obtained information from Shi Qinghai?"
Butler Jin followed his footsteps and walked towards him quickly, and said softly beside him: "The evidence is conclusive. The FBI found the records of too frequent calls between Deputy Minister Yang and the director, although it did not involve the gymnasium incident. , but who knows if there is any other way of communication between them?"
Tai Zhiyuan stopped abruptly, looked at Butler Jin and said, "Do you believe this so-called evidence?"
Butler Jin was silent for a moment and then shook his head: "Deputy Minister Yang, Director, Shi Qinghai, Xu Le... It can indeed point to a possibility. But the problem is that the chain of evidence is too weak."
"Not only is it not strong, but there is no evidence at all, where is the chain?" Tai Zhiyuan's lips curled into a rare sneer. "Some people are doing everything possible to tie this matter to the anti-government forces."
"At least there is evidence now that the director of HTD, who used to be a professor in the first academy, was Shi Qinghai's teacher when he was in the first academy, and both of them are... spies of the anti-government army."
"We knew for a long time that Shi Qinghai was from the anti-government army." Tai Zhiyuan looked at Steward Jin calmly, "and the government doesn't know. Since that's the case, the problem must lie with the director. Some people know that With his identity, he happens to be able to connect Yang Jinsong's tough soldiers with Shi Qinghai, Xu Le and me."
"I don't care if there is any problem within the anti-government army." Tai Zhiyuan stared at Steward Jin and said, "I only know that some people are trying to use the fact that I almost died to make trouble."
"I don't allow anyone to break the agreement between Mr. Pabble and Qinglongshan." Tai Zhiyuan emphasized, "I don't want those wolf dogs of the Investigation Bureau to stare suspiciously at my friend Xu Le... Shi Qinghai can't Die, at least not now, since the Federation has begun to want him, think of some ways to help him."
"There are very few things we can do in this regard." Butler Jin insisted on his own judgment, "and the federal government is only responsible for giving a logical answer. As long as the lady cannot question the rationality of this result, we can only accept it. ."
"The twelve agents of the Secret Service didn't know your destination, Master, until that day. Even if the spy among them can send information, it is impossible for those soldiers to get ready in the middle of the night."
Butler Jin continued to say calmly: "The internal review of the family has also ended, and there is no doubt. Right now, the only doubt is that Mr. Xu Le may have told his friends about his whereabouts... I'm sorry, I didn't know it beforehand. It was a mistake to specifically instruct Mr. Xu Le on this matter."
Tai Zhiyuan frowned slightly, and after a long silence he said: "It can't be Shi Qinghai, no matter how much the anti-government army thinks about me dying, it's impossible at this time... It's like I hope they all disappear, but I can't. At this time, we will push the Federation to send troops to Qinglong Mountain."
In the wind and snow stirred by the plane's airflow, Tai Zhiyuan tightened the scarf around his neck, walked up the gangway, embarked on a journey to visit Xu Le, and said the last sentence.
"Although Xu Le has few friends, Shi Qinghai is not the only one."