Spy Wars: I have space, but I choose to work alone

Ma Liang knew that the other party would definitely agree to this price.

Compared to the cost of the huge decryption team that has made no progress, this amount of money is nothing.

Moreover, the earlier we get this top-level diplomatic code that can reveal the country's strategic planning, the sooner the intelligence will be effective, and the more time America will have to respond.

The price of intelligence in the intelligence community is sometimes priceless one hour and like waste paper the next hour. That's how it is.

Kane went out to ask for instructions again. This time he came back quickly in less than 5 minutes. He opened his mouth and said:

"We have approved your request. Please leave your contact information. I will contact you as soon as the goods you want arrive!"

Of course Ma Liang would not leave any contact information, as he had his own plans.

"When the goods arrive, you can invite consuls from various countries to hold a dinner, and then put the money and goods in Warehouse No. 17 in the British Concession. I will pick them up when the time comes!" Ma Liang gave his own plan.

"Then it's settled!" Now the initiative is in Ma Liang's hands, and Kane has no power to refuse.

After saying this, Ma Liang left the American Consulate.

After Ma Liang left, the consul also came to the reception room from another room.

It turned out that this reception room was under surveillance and wiretap throughout, and after Kane went out for the first time, the consul and the consulate's secret agents had been monitoring and wiretapping Ma Liang.

"Team leader, do you want me to arrange for Chen and the others to follow this mysterious man and find out his background?"

Kane took the initiative to suggest arranging Chinese-American agents abroad to follow Ma Liang and find out his true identity.

"No need. This person is a real top agent. Chen and his team can't track him. On the contrary, he is likely to find us. If it causes misunderstandings and makes the other party refuse the next transaction, it will be bad."

Johnson, the real head of the American Far East Intelligence Group, is a middle-aged white-haired man with gloomy eyes. Even when talking in his own territory, he naturally leans against the wall and faces everyone.

"Isn't he just a little traitor who speaks English better than the other dwarfs? Team leader, are you overestimating him?"

Kane thought he had seen through Ma Liang's disguise and objected to Johnson's caution.

A playful smile appeared on Johnson's gloomy and pale face, and he wanted to teach Kane a lesson because he lacked experience.

But the consul was also here, so John could only give Kane a look that said "wait for it" and took the initiative to decipher the answer:

"You only saw the surface. Maybe he left a flaw for you on his own initiative."

Hearing this, Kane was a little unconvinced and wanted to say something, but John stopped him from refutation and continued to explain:

"During the more than one hour you spent verifying the information, I watched him from behind the mirror the entire time. For a full hour, I didn't move, and I had the same expression the entire time. I didn't show any impatience at all."

"He showed extraordinary patience and meticulousness, not at all like a traitor who was selling information. And did you notice? His negotiation skills were excellent. In his brief conversations, he took the initiative throughout the conversation."

Then Johnson pointed to the coffee cup, which had not been touched at all, and said:

"He was wearing sunglasses and gloves the whole time and didn't even touch the coffee. I couldn't even take a full facial photo of him or collect his fingerprints from the coffee cup as usual."

"To be able to control all the details to such an extent, this person can only be said to be a well-trained top-level agent who has experienced many battles."

After listening to Johnson's explanation, Kane thought about it and it seemed to be true.

He was shocked and found that he couldn't remember what Ma Liang looked like at this moment.

Now he only remembers his 6-foot height, the thick beard and the sunglasses that covered half of his face.

After Ma Liang left the American consulate, although he did not find the stalker, he still took several anti-tracking actions.

Finally, I found an empty dark alley and changed back into the outfit of Mr. Wu, the crooked-butt writer.

Then he walked out of the alley and found a telephone booth on the roadside. He spent one dollar to call a taxi, and while waiting for the taxi, he ate wontons on the roadside.

Don’t think that taxi driving is a new profession. As early as the Republic of China period, taxis were not a novelty but a very normal industry.

In 1921, there were 24 taxi companies in Shanghai, and by 1926, the number had grown to 51.

In 1928, the Shanghai Taxi Industry Association was established. At that time, 46 taxi companies participated in it, owning more than 500 taxis in total, accounting for 95% of the city's taxis.

However, unlike the current taxis that drive around picking up passengers, the oil price at that time was too high, and generally the taxi company would only send a car to pick up the customer after the customer called for a car.

In order to prepare for future emergencies when his identity is checked by spies, Ma Liang deliberately created an image for Mr. Wu that of a tacky intellectual who likes to go to entertainment venues in the concession after making some money from writing books.

This can also explain why Ma Liang was away from home for a few days occasionally and why he would deliberately let the neighbors see him.

Ma Liang can change into countless costumes, but at least he must have an identity background that can withstand scrutiny and have real life experiences and traces of life.

When the police or Japanese army conduct a thorough investigation, they will not find that the person does not exist, and the neighbors can all come up with testimonies.

This is the life of an agent. You have to take care of every detail.

Because you never know that negligence may arouse the enemy's suspicion, thus exposing yourself and losing your life.

Forty minutes later, a white-painted Yunfei Company taxi dropped Ma Liang off at the door of his home in the Japanese war zone. The driver, Lin Er, wearing white gloves and a cap, got out of the car immediately to open the door for the guest.

Ma Liang took the opportunity to stick his sleek middle-parted head, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, out of the car. He looked left and right, but refused to get out.

It was not until Mrs. Zhang and Mrs. Li, the neighbors, went out to check whose car it was that Ma Liang proudly used his left hand to tidy up his small middle-parted hair and greeted them in a surprised manner:

"Mrs. Zhang, Mrs. Li, have you eaten? I just had an authentic French meal in the French Concession. The taste and presentation were so delicious!"

Ma Liang made an expression as if he was savoring the memory, but this made the taxi driver Lin Er next to him very angry, and he cursed Ma Liang in his heart.

That's a big fool, a fool like 13, and a fool like .

I'm still bending over and waiting?

Why are you pretending to be so pretentious? Don't you know what time it is?

What kind of French meal are you eating? You are just eating small wontons next to the grocery store in the British and American Concessions. Why are you pretending to be such a rich guy?

"Sir, sir!"

Just as Ma Liang was bragging to Mrs. Lin and Mrs. Zhang, Lin Er's untimely voice interrupted Ma Liang's show-off.

His face immediately fell.

"Why are you urging me? I'm not unwilling to pay you. I have plenty of money. How much is it?"

Seeing Ma Liang's attitude, Lin Er could only grit his teeth and force out a professional smile:

"Sheng Hui, 10 dollars!"