Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Time passed slowly. The streets were so quiet that one could hear the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Old Tan's gaze swept across the target building and the surrounding environment like an ice cone.

He tapped his fingers a few times delicately on his oil-stained overalls.

"The plan remains unchanged. Mad Dog will cut off the main power switch to create chaos, and Sick Tiger and I will take action."

at this time!

The rhythmic sound of leather boots hitting the ground broke the silence of the night!

A four-man patrol team of Japanese military police wearing khaki uniforms and equipped with bayonets appeared from the other end of the street corner like a cold machine, and walked towards this side from far to near!

The leather boots made a heart-pounding "thump, thump, thump" sound as they stepped on the bluestone slabs!

The bayonets reflected a cold light under the streetlights! The patrolling gazes were like searchlights, sweeping every inch of land on both sides of the street!

Mad Dog's hand, placed under the cart, had already gently grasped the handle of the knife hidden in the steel pipe of the ladder!

The sick tiger's hunched back muscles tensed instantly!

Old Tan's eyes remained motionless, like stagnant water.

Even when the patrol passed by him less than three meters away, he did not move at all.

His hands were still loosely resting on the handle of the cart, as if he was just a tired worker waiting for his shift change.

When the patrol passed by, the leading sergeant glanced at the three "odd jobs" and frowned slightly, as if trying to identify them.

Old Tan muttered something in unclear Japanese with a strange accent at the right time, as if complaining about the aging of the lines or something.

The voice is hoarse and unpleasant.

The patrol team did not stop but walked straight ahead, the sound of their footsteps gradually fading away on the quiet street at the other end.

The sound of leather boots tapping turned into another parallel street, and the lingering sound diluted and disappeared in the emptiness.

Lao Tan moved.

It's not about attacking, it's about stealth.

Like the most experienced weasel, he slid along the icy stone foundation wall on the west side of the small western-style building, aiming for the hidden garbage duct behind the house, with the sick tiger following closely behind.

At the same moment, the mad dog also advanced silently, each step landing precisely in the shallow mud pit left by the previous rain, eliminating all sound, until it disappeared like a ghost into the shadow of a clump of sharply trimmed boxwood hedges in the garden in front of the building.

Dead silence. The only sound was the rustling of the wind through the treetops.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Everything happened silently, the smell of blood gradually spread in the air, and only a few faint groans and the dying mutterings of someone who seemed to be strangled by the neck could be heard in the house.

Ten minutes later, Lao Tan and Mad Dog came out of the small western-style building carrying two wooden boxes.

Everything was going well, and Old Tan even rarely smiled.

But at this moment...

A figure holding a Nambu-style pistol appeared on the street and dropped the bag of food in his hand.

Almost instinctively! Old Tan Song stepped forward quickly, and the bamboo stick in his hand slipped into his palm.

Just as the other party raised his gun and was about to ask something, Lao Tan was already close.

The bamboo stick pierced into the visitor's heart at a speed that was almost invisible to the naked eye.

But at the same time, the gun went off.

"Bang!" The bullet whizzed past Lao Tan's temple!

At the street corner! A sharp whistle pierced the night sky! The clatter of heavy boots echoed incessantly! Like thunder, they approached from afar! The military police were arriving! From the sound of it, there was more than one group!

"Retreat!" Old Tan roared in a low voice: "You take the boxes and leave first, I will lead the Japanese away!"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The military police were very fast. At the same time that Sick Tiger and Mad Dog were leaving with the box, they had already arrived at the street outside the small villa.

boom! boom! boom!

Three shots were fired in quick succession! The bullets whizzed past Old Tan's head and shattered a glass window on the second floor above him!

"Missed? Baka!" The military police roared in shock!

"Keep shooting!" The expression of the military police who fired the gun returned to its violent state. He screamed madly and pulled the trigger again, but this time the muzzle of the gun was completely pointed at the mud splashed under Lao Tan's feet!

Under the cover of chaotic rain of bullets!

Old Tan's figure was like an ink line blending into the darkness. With the chaos created by the extremely strange firepower "coordination" of this gendarmerie patrol team, the weird chaos seemed to disappear into the night in an instant under the absent-minded shooting!

"Chase!" The military police sergeant shouted at Lao Tan's back, but there was no urgency to catch up on his face.

He once again aimed at the night sky and fired the last bullet in the Type 38 rifle in his hand in vain.

boom!

The sound of gunfire echoed hollowly under the cold night sky of Miyajima Street, like the echo of the first chess piece falling in a huge chess game.

In the distance, Nanzō Yunko's face appeared behind a third-floor window. She smiled and shook her head, then turned to one of her subordinates and said, "Go inform Section Chief Itai that everything is going well."

. . . . . . . . . .

The transaction on the third floor of the Santa Ana Dance Hall, which was filled with the smell of cigars and red wine, was finally settled. When Zhou Zhengqing stepped out of the reception room, his steps were strangely light.

The hustle and bustle of the dance floor downstairs hit me in the face. The saxophone of the jazz band was playing a lazy and provocative melody. The swirling colorful spots of light hit the men and women twisting and turning on the dance floor, making the cold and cruel power transaction in the secret room upstairs seem like a phantom from another world.

"Lingzi." Zhou Zhengqing tilted his head slightly, his voice filled with a hint of relief after a successful negotiation: "Dance with me."

Lingzi drooped her eyelashes, nodded silently, and gently placed her slender white hand on Zhou Zhengqing's outstretched palm.

The two slid onto the dance floor. Zhou Zhengqing's dance steps were elegant like those of an old-fashioned aristocrat, and they matched perfectly with Lingzi's light and butterfly-like steps.

Zhou Zhengqing put his arm around Lingzi's slender waist, his eyes fixed on her lowered face, which was as smooth as fine porcelain.

"Lingzi." Zhou Zhengqing's voice glided past Lingzi's ear, carrying a warm breath and a hint of praise: "Thank you for your proposal regarding the law enforcement power in the concession. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known that these Western countries have no bottom line."

Lingzi raised her eyes slightly, her cold eyes flashing in the swirling light and shadow: "Lingzi just feels that the general's request should not be limited to what is in front of him."

Zhou Zhengqing's lips curled up in a playful arc, and his arms tightened slightly, pulling her closer. He could almost feel her warm breath brushing against his chin. "Oh? So Lingzi, what do you think I should ask for?"

Lingzi didn't answer. She simply leaned slightly against Zhou Zhengqing, following the rhythm of the music. She cast her eyes on the young men and women at the edge of the dance floor, who were intoxicated by alcohol and desire. Her voice was as soft as a sigh: "This paradise in the concession is ultimately built on quicksand, just like an empire..."

Zhou Zhengqing followed her gaze, glancing at the men and women dancing on the floor, and interrupted with a chuckle, "Haha, our Lingzi has become cunning too, learning to talk about other things."

When the song ended, Zhou Zhengqing let go of Lingzi and clapped his hands with a feeling of satisfaction.

Nakamura Shunsuke, who had been in charge of security downstairs, appeared beside him with a perfectly placed smile on his face. "General, you're in high spirits. Would you like another bottle of champagne?"