218: Chapter 218 Yamada was tricked and became crippled.

Yamada Ichiro's right hand gripped the back of Zhang Nan's neck.

The heel of his palm pressed against the hairline at the nape, not with excessive force, but the intent was clear.

"Explain."

"Explain now."

Zhang Nan froze in place.

His floral shirt collar was crooked, and he turned his head slowly, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Yamada Ichiro?"

His voice rose in pitch.

"Why are you here?"

Yamada did not let go.

"I'm asking you."

"Why are you here?"

Zhang Nan raised both hands.

"I got lost."

Yamada tightened his fingers by half an inch.

"Lost?"

"Really lost!"

Zhang Nan's voice cracked with anxiety.

"I was following the crowd to hear the President speak, and I just ended up here while walking. Look, there's no one here; I thought I could find a way out."

Yamada scanned the corridor.

It was indeed empty.

After the President arrived, the military police were all deployed to the front tarmac and the perimeter of the main building.

The place was so empty that only the sound of the air conditioning remained.

"And then?"

"Then I saw these doors."

Zhang Nan gestured with his chin to the side.

"They have numbers on them, some with lights on, some off. I was curious, so I took a closer look."

He hurriedly added, "I didn't go inside, though."

Yamada released his hand.

He didn't think this good-for-nothing could stir up any trouble here.

A spy who was only halfway through plastic surgery and only scored sixty on training tests.

If Kadena really had to rely on such a person to get work done, the base should have closed long ago.

Zhang Nan immediately took two steps back and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yamada Ichiro, your grip is truly terrifying."

He offered a fawning smile.

"As expected of someone who flies fighter jets."

Yamada ignored him.

He walked to the door.

There was an observation window on the door, reinforced glass, from which the inside could not be seen from the outside.

Next to it was a biometric panel, with a green light glowing.

Zhang Nan leaned in, lowering his voice.

"Is someone locked in there?"

"None of your business."

"I'm just asking."

Zhang Nan rubbed his hands together.

"I studied art before, and this is my first time at a United States military base. Seeing an interrogation room like this, I'm obviously curious. That's how it's filmed in the movies."

Yamada turned around.

Zhang Nan immediately shut his mouth.

Three seconds later, he couldn't help himself again.

"Yamada Ichiro."

Yamada did not respond.

"Could you..."

Zhang Nan gestured toward the door.

"Open it for a second?"

There was no reaction on Yamada's face.

Zhang Nan hurriedly raised his right hand.

"I'll just take one look. Really, I'll leave right after. I just want to know if real interrogation rooms have those big light bulbs."

Yamada stood still.

Zhang Nan shrank his neck.

"If you can't, then forget it. I was just asking."

Yamada looked at him for two seconds, then turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor.

Zhang Nan froze.

"Yamada Ichiro? Where are you going?"

Yamada did not look back.

Zhang Nan stood in place, his expression slightly stiff.

Calling someone?

No.

If he were calling military police, he should be heading toward the dormitory area.

Yamada was walking toward the equipment storage.

One minute later.

Yamada returned.

He had a tablet in his hand.

He said with a stern face, "I need to check the status of the prisoner inside."

Zhang Nan wore a fawning expression. "Yes, yes, yes, you should check."

He held the tablet close to the identification panel, and a few lines of text popped up on the screen.

[Identity Verification: Yamada Ichiro, Lieutenant, Flight ID JP-0047.]

[Clearance Level: B+.]

[Task Association: Presidential Inspection Security Cooperation.]

[Temporary Authorization: Review Detainee Status.]

[Authorization Window: 300 Seconds.]

Yamada leaned close to the panel.

A red light scanned his iris.

"Beep."

The door lock clicked open.

Zhang Nan, standing behind him, instantly perked up.

"Damn."

He lowered his voice.

"With your clearance, you can really open it?"

Yamada pushed the door open.

The interrogation room was small.

A metal table, two chairs.

A white light overhead.

No windows.

A person sat in the chair.

His blonde hair was messy, his face pale, his prison uniform severely wrinkled, and there were friction marks on his wrists.

He kept his head lowered, his breathing shallow.

Yamada stood at the doorway, not entering.

Zhang Nan peered over his shoulder.

"Who is this?"

"None of your business."

"I'm just looking."

Zhang Nan squeezed half a step forward.

"What did he do? He looks pretty miserable."

Yamada paused.

"Deserter."

Zhang Nan let out an "Ah."

"A United States deserter."

Yamada lowered his voice.

"Stole classified information, defected, and was caught back in Hong Kong. Waiting for trial."

Zhang Nan blinked.

"What happens after the trial?"

"Court-martial."

Yamada's tone was flat.

"Life imprisonment, or the death penalty."

Zhang Nan gasped.

He took half a step inside, then stopped.

The person in the chair moved, raised his head, and then let it drop again.

"He doesn't seem mentally well."

Zhang Nan whispered.

"Sleep deprivation."

Yamada answered quickly.

"This is standard interrogation procedure."

Zhang Nan was quiet for two seconds.

Then he turned to Yamada.

"Yamada Ichiro."

Yamada waited for him to continue.

"You are truly amazing."

Zhang Nan gave a thumbs up.

"You can fly a plane, have this kind of clearance, and can even inspect classified prisoners. I knew a pilot in Korea who couldn't even get onto the tarmac."

Yamada stood with his hands behind his back, straightening up a bit more.

Zhang Nan continued to butter him up.

"Elites like you are on a completely different level from us."

"I'm just someone who got plastic surgery and snuck in to copy others. When people ask professional questions, I can't even answer them."

"Earlier, when the President spoke to me, my mind just went blank."

He paused, then added another jab.

"Unlike you, just a face scan, and the door opens."

Yamada lifted his chin slightly higher.

Zhang Nan immediately seized on this change.

"That was so cool just now."

"Tablet pressed against it, permissions popped up, then the iris scan, 'beep'."

He rubbed his hands together.

"Can you teach me?"

Yamada turned around.

"You want to learn?"

"I do!"

Zhang Nan nodded quickly.

"If I could have even one-tenth of your ability, Lieutenant Colonel Reynolds would have to look at me with respect."

"You can't."

Yamada cut him off.

"This requires pilot certification. You aren't a pilot."

Zhang Nan immediately wilted.

"That's true."

He stood with his head down for two seconds.

Then he raised his head again.

"Then... Yamada Ichiro, can you demonstrate it for me again?"

Yamada didn't speak.

"How to close the door."

Zhang Nan pressed his hands together.

"I can't learn it, but I want to see it clearly. Please, just once. I promise not to touch anything."

Yamada stood there for three seconds.

Then he turned and walked toward the inside of the door.

"Watch closely."

He said.

"I'll only demonstrate once."

He raised his hand to press the close button.

At this very moment.

Zhang Nan moved.

He pushed off with his left foot, lunging forward.

His right hand wrapped around from the side, directly covering Yamada's mouth.

At the same time, his left foot kicked into the back of Yamada's left knee.

Yamada's body sank, his knee hitting the metal table leg with a dull thud.

Before he could even raise his hand, his neck was already locked from behind.

Zhang Nan pressed against his back, his forearm pinning the side of the neck, and his other hand gripping his wrist.

Yamada tried to raise his elbow.

Zhang Nan's knee pressed into his lower back, positioned precisely.

Every time Yamada moved, his back hurt.

Three seconds.

Yamada's breathing became ragged.

Zhang Nan leaned into his ear, his voice very low.

"Relax."

"The more you struggle, the faster you'll pass out."

Yamada squeezed a sound out of his throat.

His hands clawed wildly, his fingernails scratching Zhang Nan's forearm, leaving several red marks.

Zhang Nan didn't let go.

"Don't waste your strength."

"You have ten seconds of consciousness left."

Yamada's movements slowed down.

His body suddenly went limp.

Zhang Nan didn't let go immediately; instead, he added a bit more force.

To prevent deception.

Yamada squeezed a few words out of his mouth.

"Don't... take off my underwear."

Zhang Nan paused.

Yamada braced himself and spat out half a sentence.

"Give me... some dignity."

Zhang Nan looked at the back of his head.

This guy was quite particular.

Even when about to pass out, he was still worried about his underwear.

"Truly a dignified person."

Zhang Nan tightened his arm.

Yamada's body twitched.

Then went limp.

Zhang Nan supported him and slowly lowered him to the ground.

Still breathing.

Not dead.

He crouched down and quickly searched Yamada.

Flight kneeboard.

Keys.

Folded base map.

Tissues.

No phone.

When pilots enter the core area, they aren't allowed to carry personal electronic devices.

Li Li stuffed the flight kneeboard into his own pants pocket and walked to the door to take a look.

The corridor was empty.

The sound of the President's speech came from far away, leaving only blurred echoes.

He returned to the chair and crouched down.

"Hey."

The person in the chair didn't respond.

Li Li switched to Chinese.

"Snowden."

The person's fingers moved slightly.

"Stop pretending."

Li Li lowered his voice.

"You're awake."

Snowden slowly raised his head.

He looked at the strange yet familiar face in front of him, not making a sound for a long time.

Li Li raised an eyebrow.

"You understand Chinese; you said so on the plane."

Snowden's throat moved.

"Who are you?"

Li Li didn't beat around the bush.

"What do you think?"

"Do you still want to leave?"

Snowden stared at him for a few seconds, then finally squeezed out a name.

"Li Li?"

Li Li didn't deny it.

Snowden pulled at his face.

It couldn't be called a smile.

"Why did you come to save me?"

Li Li curled his lip.

"The planes I fly have never had anyone die on them, and that goes for after getting off the plane, too."