82: Chapter 82 Operation "Paving the Way"

In the United States, at Andrews Air Force Base, a C-130 Hercules transport plane slowly descended. After the plane taxied off the runway, its massive rear cargo door slowly lowered.

John Wilson, William Miller, and a group of technicians had been waiting there for some time.

The transport plane had come from the distant East, and inside, it carried the wreckage of the stealth reconnaissance drone that had been shot down in Q City.

After much difficulty, it had finally been brought back to this base. John Wilson and the others walked forward and stepped onto the plane's ramp.

The stealth reconnaissance drone had long since been dismantled, its parts secured in individual, specialized wooden crates. John Wilson and the others peered inside; the various components of the reconnaissance drone were even labeled with numbers, suggesting they had already been classified and handled during the recovery process.

"William, unload these crates first. Andrews Air Force Base has already prepared an empty warehouse for you. Move all that wreckage there. I want you to confirm the cause of its crash as quickly as possible."

"Understood, Boss."

"Hmm, William, do a good job. I'll be waiting for your good news in my office. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll leave this to you."

John Wilson finished speaking and walked off the plane. He had been very busy lately; while the drone crash did indeed require investigation, that was only on the surface.

Once there was a conclusion here, he would naturally have to inform those bigwigs; it would serve as an explanation.

But John Wilson felt that doing this was far from enough. Investigating the cause would, at best, only save his current job.

If he wanted to restore his former prestige within the Pentagon's intelligence system, he felt he had to do something else.

As for what to do, given the current situation, was there anything more interesting than intelligence on those mysterious buildings in China?

The answer was: No.

John Wilson had precisely identified an entry point that would allow him to make a comeback, so he had started planning early.

Today, he had an appointment with someone—a dark card he had been using for many years. Since the United States could no longer openly conduct reconnaissance operations against China.

Then he would do it covertly.

The United States had plenty of such agents, informants, and operatives all over the world.

Sometimes these people were more useful than the government taking action directly. The important thing was that they all took jobs through intermediaries, so even if there were an investigation, it wouldn't lead back to the US government.

Furthermore, no one was investigating anyway.

Washington's Georgetown, as the oldest neighborhood in the district, had charming scenery. It featured many retro buildings with medieval styles; the long streets were paved with cobblestones, and on both sides of the streets were historic bakeries and bars.

Georgetown had two waterways: the Potomac River and the C&O Canal. In addition to the beautiful scenery, the towpaths along both sides of the C&O Canal were famous exercise routes in the area, where many people walked, jogged, and cycled.

Cycling, in particular, was evident from the scale of more than 50 public bicycle racks, 8 bike-sharing stations, and a large bicycle repair shop along the canal.

John Wilson walked into a bar next to the canal; the bar's name was simply "C&O." The mottled wall plaster and the flickering neon sign spoke volumes about its history.

John Wilson walked down the dim hallway, reached the bar, skillfully ordered two whiskeys, and then sat down at his usual spot.

This spot was tucked away and inconspicuous, yet it offered a great view, allowing him to see both the pedestrians on the street and the general scene inside the bar.

He took a sip of the strong liquor, frowned, and then waited quietly.

At this hour, there were not many customers in the bar. John Wilson scanned the room; besides a few old drunks drinking, there were also a few young people.

Those young people all had nose rings, puffing on cigarettes while talking about women without any restraint.

Just then, the door of the bar was pushed open, and a middle-aged man entered. The man looked travel-worn and weary. After scanning the room, he walked straight toward John Wilson.

"Hi, John."

"Hey, Joey."

"I specially prepared whiskey for you. Give it a try."

"Oh, thank God, you still remember my preferences. Hahaha."

The middle-aged man named Joey didn't hesitate; he raised the glass and drank it in one gulp.

"We haven't seen each other in two years, have we? Why did we have to meet in person this time? Using the old method to pass messages to me would have been so simple. You have no idea how many flights I had to transfer to get here."

After finishing the drink, Joey began to complain.

"I think you've gotten too used to staying in that monkey country. What? Do you like yellow-skinned women now, is that it?"

John Wilson curled his lip.

"Haha, how would an old fossil like you understand the charm of it? Look at the people outside. To be honest, brother, I'm really not interested. This country might not be suitable for me anymore."

After Joey finished speaking, he downed the freshly refilled whiskey in one gulp.

Soon, the waiter refilled his glass again.

"Joey, the reason we can't use the old methods this time is that we cannot leave any paper trail, because this mission is very tricky. The target is no longer those monkey countries from before."

John Wilson prepared to get to the point; if they kept chatting like this, he was afraid the guy opposite him would get drunk soon.

"Oh, could it be..."

Joey dipped his finger in some whiskey and wrote the abbreviation of a country on the table. John Wilson glanced at it and nodded.

Joey calmly wiped away the marks on the table.

"After you go back, be careful with your subordinates; don't leave any traces. The first mission is the most important and the most prone to problems. Have them recruit some reliable people. I have a list of mercenaries here; they've either served in Delta Force or the Navy SEALs, all of them are top-tier. They can come in handy this time. When you get back, give them the list for reference."

"John, is it really necessary? After all, they haven't had any decent military operations in decades. A bunch of baby soldiers—do you need such elite mercenaries?"

"Joey, I think you've heard the news from a while ago, right? I can be frank with you: those bigwigs didn't authorize me to do this. This is a unilateral operation on my part, so other than money, there is no operational support from the US government. Do you understand?"

John Wilson picked up the whiskey in front of him and downed it in one gulp; he needed that kind of stimulation right now.

"The first plan is codenamed Operation 'Pathfinder.' They need to go deep into that country's territory. I want as much detailed intelligence on that mysterious building as possible."

"Regarding the route, this bag provides two operational routes. Both are relatively covert and extend to two mysterious bases respectively. Choose a suitable one."

John Wilson said, pushing over a file folder.

"No problem. What about the other mission?"

Joey didn't look through it; after putting it away, he continued to ask.

"Go investigate someone!"