Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

At 6:00 a.m. sharp, the military police led by Yusuke Ichijo arrived on time.

The two sides tacitly avoided communicating, but a tense atmosphere permeated the air.

The military police were surprised to find that the members of this "prison guard squad" made almost no sound and did not communicate with their own side.

The military police had met Makarov and his men before. Back at the Tianjin Military Police Headquarters, Makarov and his men had served as prison guards within the military police force.

The previous interactions had been fairly harmonious, but the military police had no idea that these Soviet Russians, whom they considered prison guards, would also appear here, and that they looked ready to engage in battle.

This caused many military police officers to whisper among themselves.

A long-standing command ordered the procession to move forward.

Makarov also signaled to advance, and the squad immediately deployed into tactical formation, with Hammer and Red Star in front, Sickle and Winter Wolf in the middle, and Vodka and Caviar at the rear.

Makarov was positioned in the center of the formation, ready to direct and coordinate the operations.

Hundreds of military police also sensed that something was wrong, so they stopped communicating and silently escorted Makarov and his men in the middle of the group toward Nanjing.

The group vanished like ghosts into the pre-dawn darkness, heading towards the sewer entrance.

Shunsuke Nakamura stood there, watching them leave, a sense of tension rising within him.

Capturing Matsui Iwane is no easy task; it's too risky to do it with just eight people.

But this was the general's order, so I could only do my job and wait patiently for the mission's outcome.

If the capture is successful, immediately take Matsui Iwane back to Shanghai secretly. However, if the capture fails, you must immediately step into the open and organize Yusuke Ichijo's military police battalion to rescue Makarov and the others.

. . . . . . . .

Half an hour later, Yusuke's team approached the front line of the battlefield.

Soldiers from other divisions also noticed the arrival of the military police battalion. Some officers even came to greet them and advised Yusuke Ichijo not to get too close to the fighting zone to avoid getting hurt.

Let them handle the task of direct combat.

While expressing his gratitude, Yusuke Ichijo winked at Makarov and the others.

Makarov understood and led his team to quietly slip away from the military police.

The team demonstrated an astonishing level of professionalism as they moved alone towards the sewer entrance:

Each step was precisely planted on solid ground, avoiding making a sound.

There were people providing cover at every turn to ensure the safety of the team's flanks.

Sign language signals are smoothly transmitted among team members, enabling complex tactical instructions to be completed without words.

Makarov would occasionally raise his fist, at which point the column would immediately halt and wait for scouts to confirm that it was safe ahead.

This level of discipline and professionalism put the previous military police force to shame.

As the entrance to the sewer came into view, Makarov once again rallied his team: "Remember, speed and control are key. Don't linger in the fight, and don't chase after them."

There's only one target: Matsui Iwane.

The team members nodded silently, their eyes gleaming with a cold light in the darkness.

The bolt of the MP36 submachine gun was gently pulled back, producing an almost inaudible metallic scraping sound.

Makarov glanced at his watch; it was 6:17.

Take a deep breath and be the first to enter the dark sewer entrance.

The decapitation operation has officially begun.

At 6:20 a.m., in the eastern part of Nanjing, the cast iron sewer manhole cover, which had been hidden under the rubble in the backyard of a house that had been half destroyed by a bomb, was quietly removed.

A stench so intense it was suffocating erupted instantly, a mixture of excrement, rotting matter, and gunpowder, as if opening the gates to hell.

Makarov stood at the wellhead, expressionless, as cold and aloof as a rock.

He gestured, and Hammer, the strongest assault soldier in the team, was the first to secure the rope and slip into the darkness below as silently as a cat.

A few seconds later, a soft squeak, like a mouse squeaking, came from below; this was a safety signal.

Makarov glanced back at his teammates, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, and then descended second.

Next came the scythe, the red star, the winter wolf, the spider, vodka, and caviar.

The seven people, like seven ghosts, disappeared into the darkness one by one.

The last person to go down carefully put the manhole cover back in place.

The mine is another world.

The sewage reached up to my thighs, icy cold and thick like paste, making every step extremely difficult.

What's even more unsettling is the unknown sensation underwater.

When you step on the soles of your boots, sometimes it's a relatively hard stone slab, and sometimes it's bottomless silt, as if you'll be swallowed up at any moment.

Sometimes you might step on something soft and springy, and no one dares to think about what it is, or sharp, jagged bricks and stones, which send a sharp sting through the sole of your boot.

Under the flashlight beam, a thick layer of oily, rotten matter, decaying wood chips, swelled paper, and even strips of cloth that looked like clothing floated on the surface of the sewage, like a foul-smelling soup.

"Remain silent, maintain a five-meter distance, and form a search formation." Makarov's deep, hoarse voice echoed faintly in the narrow pipe.

The squad immediately deployed into a standard indoor close-quarters combat search formation.

The hammer and sickle act as scouts, one on the left and one on the right, scouting ahead, with the gun barrels always pointed in the direction of the threat.

Red Star's MG34 light machine gun provides suppressive fire in the middle, Winter Wolf and Spider are responsible for rear guard, and Vodka and Caviar protect the team's technical equipment and medical supplies in the center.

Makarov was in command, keeping a close watch on everything around him.

According to the map provided by Shunsuke Nakamura, they needed to traverse approximately 1.2 kilometers through this vast underground labyrinth.

Every step is fraught with unknown dangers.

The inner walls of the pipe were covered with a sticky, maddening dark green moss, and when you gripped or leaned against it, your palms would feel a cool, slippery sensation.

Above and to the sides were crisscrossing, rusty cast iron pipes, some as thick as a bowl, others as thin as an arm. Many of them were leaking due to years of neglect, dripping icy water droplets that landed on the neck and sent a chill down one's spine.

In some sections, the brick and stone arches have partially collapsed, with exposed bricks and concrete fragments piled up in the water, forming dangerous obstacles that the team must carefully traverse like rock climbers, while maintaining absolute silence.

Even more dangerous are the abandoned power lines that hang down like spider webs or float in the water.

Some still had broken rubber attached, while others were bare copper wires, barely noticeable in the dim light.

Hammer was once nearly strangled by a taut wire, but Spider reacted quickly and cut it off with a dagger.

These industrial-era remnants have become deadly traps in this dark underground world.