Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Yao Ziqing felt like his body was being carried at a high speed like a torn sack.

There was a sharp whistling sound in his ears, not the sound of artillery shells, but the sound of something breaking through the wind at high speed, and the rapid but steady breathing of a soldier who was holding him beside him.

He forced his eyes open, which were covered with blood, sweat and ashes, and barely made out his surroundings.

The ruins of street fighting lay like a smooth road under their feet.

The combat qualities displayed by this mysterious six-man team far exceeded what Yao Ziqing, a battle-hardened professional soldier, could imagine.

Absolutely silent communication.

There were no spoken commands; all instructions were conveyed through extremely small gestures and flashes of lights on the side of the helmet.

With a quick gesture, the two soldiers holding him immediately pushed him down, almost close to the ground, and slid silently under a collapsed low wall.

The next second, a string of hot machine gun bullets whizzed past their heads, sending brick chips flying from the low wall.

Inhuman terrain handling.

The piles of rubble, broken beams, and even the remains of the burning hut became tools for leverage rather than obstacles under their feet.

The outermost team member jumped lightly, stepped accurately on a half-suspended pillar to gain leverage, and swung his body as lightly as a civet cat, landing on the relatively safe broken wall opposite.

The two team members who were carrying Yao Ziqing cooperated perfectly. One of them kept the center of gravity steady, while the other one lifted him up with force. Yao Ziqing actually felt as if he was teleported over and crossed the obstacle with almost no bumps!

Deadly cross screen.

Every turn, every sprint across open ground, was accompanied by perfectly covered fire.

The two team members at the rear seemed to have eyes on their backs, with strange pistols in their hands.

Later, Yao Ziqing realized that the muzzle of the gun was equipped with a device that could suppress sound and fire.

There was a continuous "puff" sound, and any Japanese soldier who tried to pursue or shoot within the field of vision, no matter how far away, was hit in the vitals and died on the spot.

Their shooting frequency was frighteningly high, but every bullet hit the target and not a single bullet was wasted.

Even more frightening is that they seem to be able to predict the direction of the threat in advance.

One team member wore a small rectangular box on his arm, which he would slide or tap quickly from time to time.

At this time, the team's advance direction or cover focus will be adjusted instantly.

Yao Ziqing even saw that during a brief pause, a schematic diagram of the surrounding buildings and light spots representing the Japanese army vaguely flashed on the small box!

This completely overturned his understanding of "reconnaissance".

It’s as if they have a God’s vision!

Yao Ziqing was being held by an unusually tall and muscular soldier. He could see up close the taut muscle lines on the other's arms and the strange fiber camouflage covering them.

The other person's helmet was equipped with transparent lenses on the side that he couldn't understand, and sometimes a faint green light flashed.

A fist-sized black square with a flashing indicator light hung around his waist, and in the side pocket of his tactical vest was a cylindrical object with a grid pattern on its surface that was much smaller than a Kuomintang grenade.

Everything seemed exquisite, deadly, and strange.

The evacuation was extremely fast and the route was extremely complicated.

Yao Ziqing felt as if he were in a bizarre dream. He could hear his own heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart, and his nose was filled with smoke, blood, a strange metallic smell, and something coming from the tactical team...

It smells like a mixture of leather and clean motor oil.

The Japanese army's gunshots, shouts and footsteps of the pursuers were miraculously quickly left behind and below.

Due to the violent shaking, blood loss, extreme mental shock, and the small amount of poison gas inhaled and the excessive adrenaline fading away, Yao Ziqing's consciousness began to blur.

The strength to struggle quickly faded, and my eyelids felt heavy as if filled with lead.

In a trance, he only felt the cold, inhumanly firm grip that did not relax at all.

I don't know how long it took, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity. Yao Ziqing was awakened for a moment by a violent shaking.

Then, I felt my body being gently lowered down, and behind me was soft and slightly damp soil.

He suddenly opened his eyes and greedily breathed in the relatively fresh air.

There was a gray sky overhead and the surrounding terrain was low, a natural depression that had been baptized by artillery fire but the vegetation had not been completely destroyed.

Familiar commands and footsteps could be heard faintly from the front. It was the position of the 98th Division of the National Revolutionary Army to which he belonged!

He could even make out the vague shadow of the Nationalist Army's blue sky, white sun flag in the distance.

The tall soldier who was holding him and another team member were carefully leaning his body against a collapsed adobe wall.

The movements were swift and gentle, as if handling an extremely delicate and important item.

He could see the sharp-edged face of a Westerner, and the eyes that looked unusually calm and sharp in the dusk light.

The six team members quickly dispersed, forming a warning circle, still silently.

One of the team members, who seemed to be the captain, took off his tactical gloves, revealing his human hands. He took out a palm-sized, flat metal cylinder from a compartment in his tactical vest and aimed it at the sky above the depression.

“Swish…Bang!”

An extremely bright red flare pierced the lead-gray sky and exploded under the low clouds, emitting a long-lasting and dazzling red light, like a falling sun.

Then he took out a can-shaped object, pulled out the safety pin, and threw it into a relatively open and less concealed area nearby without even looking.

"Puff..." With a muffled sound, a thick, bright orange-yellow smoke instantly rose into the sky, forming an extremely conspicuous marking column.

The smoke both marked the location and blocked the view from outside the depression.

All this was done, from the launch of the flare to the throwing of the smoke bomb, in less than five seconds.

Their movements were as smooth as if they had been rehearsed a thousand times.

"You...you guys..." Yao Ziqing struggled, using all his strength to support his body, his voice hoarse, the doubts and grief accumulated along the way surged into his throat like a mountain torrent: "Who are you?

That... that devastating attack... what was it... was it a heavy artillery?!

It looks... It looks even more terrifying than the Japanese naval guns... Are your country's weapons so powerful!

Your weapons... why... "

His voice was weak and urgent, filled with a sense of subversion of reality and an extreme desire for answers.

Those bloodshot eyes were fixed on the captain who was closest to him and had just fired a flare, eager to see a glimmer of truth through that cold face.

The captain seemed to have heard his question.

But he didn't say anything, just stopped turning around.

He raised his hand and gestured.

The other five team members who were surrounding Yao Ziqing on guard immediately stopped their actions and turned their eyes to the captain.

The captain slowly turned around and faced Yao Ziqing.

It was the face of a middle-aged Western man with a full beard.

It was not until this time that Yao Ziqing was surprised to see the patterns on the armbands of the people standing around him!

It was a circular symbol with a pair of angel wings in the middle, a sword inserted into it, a skull hanging above the sword, surrounded by olive branches, and a background pattern of spades.

"You are a true warrior. Task Force 141 is honored to serve you." Still in stiff Chinese.

Against the backdrop of thick orange-yellow smoke, and illuminated by the eerie glow of red flares, his gaze from under his helmet seemed to penetrate the smoke, staring directly at the battalion commander who had survived a bloody battle and was filled with shock.

Just when Yao Ziqing thought that the other party was finally going to explain everything that was beyond his understanding.

A sudden change occurred!