219: Chapter 219 Kadena's Elevator Warrior

"You aren't Zhang Nan?"

"No kidding." Li Li crouched down and nimbly unzipped Yamada Ichiro's flight suit.

Snowden leaned against the metal chair, watching him peel the clothes off the unconscious pilot one by one.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing clothes." Li Li unfastened the straps of the anti-G suit. "I can't exactly walk you out of Kadena Air Base wearing this Hawaiian shirt."

Snowden's lips moved, then he shut his mouth.

In just thirty seconds, Li Li had stripped Yamada down to his underwear and undershirt.

He glanced down.

Japanese minimalist style; this kid actually had decent taste.

He said he wouldn't take the underwear, so he wouldn't; a man's word is his bond.

Li Li grabbed the flight suit and put it on. The size was a bit tight; Yamada's frame was narrower than his by a full size, and the shoulder width was off by two fingers. He forced the zipper all the way to the top, making his neck feel a bit constricted, but it looked fine from the outside.

He strapped on the anti-G suit.

He grabbed the helmet.

He stuffed the gloves into the side pocket of the thigh.

The whole sequence of movements was fluid and natural. Li Li silently added another entry to his resume in his mind.

Robbing an active-duty US military pilot of their uniform.

This entry sat right after "Impersonating a domestic spy" and "Being trained by the US military to imitate oneself."

It was getting more and more ridiculous. If this crappy system kept going like this, the UN tribunal would have to set up a special defendant's seat just for him.

He turned his head to look at Snowden.

"Can you stand up?"

Snowden braced his hands against the metal armrests and pushed himself up. His legs were shaking violently. The soft restraints on his wrists, which Li Li had cut, fell to the floor, revealing a ring of deep purple bruises.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

"I can't remember." Snowden leaned half his body against the edge of the table, gasping for air. "Two days? Three days?"

Li Li reached into his pocket and pulled out half a squashed energy bar.

"Eat this first, just don't choke to death."

Snowden snatched it from him. His hands were shaking so badly that it took him two tries to tear open the wrapper. He bit off a small piece, but his mouth couldn't produce any saliva, so he had to chew it dry and force it down his throat.

Li Li waited for him to swallow it.

"Can you take the stairs?"

Snowden looked down at his trembling knees and shook his head.

"Then we'll take the elevator."

Li Li walked over, supported his left arm, and took most of his weight onto his own shoulder. "Once we're out, stick close to me. If we run into anyone, keep your head down and stay silent. Leave it to me."

Snowden nodded heavily.

Li Li pulled open the iron door of the interrogation room and poked his head out.

The hallway was empty.

In the distance, the impassioned speech of President Trump was still echoing from the loudspeakers.

The window of opportunity was still open.

He guided Snowden into the corridor and closed the door, leaving Yamada inside.

Even if he woke up, he wouldn't be able to open the door from the inside.

After less than twenty steps, Snowden's footsteps began to drag. The soles of his shoes scraped against the non-slip rubber floor, making a harsh sound. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead down his blonde hair.

Li Li was counting down rapidly in his mind.

Presidential inspection speeches usually lasted twenty minutes to half an hour. Fifteen minutes had already passed.

They had, at most, ten minutes left to evacuate.

The elevator was at the end of the hallway.

Li Li pressed the down button.

Three seconds later, the door opened.

It was empty.

He pushed Snowden inside and stepped in after him.

He pressed the button for the "1st" floor.

The metal doors closed. The elevator began to descend. A sense of weightlessness followed.

The red numbers on the display began to change.

20. 19. 18.

Snowden leaned his back against the cold elevator wall, his breathing weak.

"How did you sneak in?"

"It's a long story." Li Li stared at the changing numbers.

17. 16.

"The short version?"

"Changed my face, used a fake name, and walked right through the front gate."

Snowden fell silent.

"You're crazy."

"If I weren't crazy, you'd still be in that room counting the ceiling tiles right now."

15. 14.

Li Li tapped his right index finger rhythmically against the seam of his pants.

13.

The elevator came to a sudden halt.

The sensation of weightlessness vanished.

The floor number stopped at: 13.

Someone had pressed the elevator button from the outside.

Li Li's back muscles tightened. He grabbed the helmet, slammed it onto his head, pulled down the visor, and yanked the chin strap tight with one hand.

"Stand straight." He lowered his voice and threw the words over his shoulder, "Keep your head down. Don't look at anyone's face."

Snowden quickly lowered his head, clasping his hands over his abdomen, the wide sleeves of his prison uniform just barely covering the friction marks on his wrists.

The door opened.

Three soldiers in service uniforms.

Two soldiers in their early twenties and a sergeant in his thirties.

They weren't carrying sidearms. They wore temporary security collaboration passes on their chests. They were ragtag troops brought in from the perimeter to support the presidential inspection.

The sergeant stepped into the elevator first, his gaze sweeping over Li Li.

"Lieutenant."

He was looking at the rank insignia on the collar of the flight suit.

Li Li nodded slightly. He didn't make a sound.

Yamada Ichiro was a notorious introvert, and the whole base knew it. Being silent was Yamada; speaking would have given him away.

The three of them turned around and stood facing the elevator door.

The two soldiers whispered to each other.

"Is that hair real or not?"

"Who?"

"The President, of course. The wind was blowing, but his hairstyle didn't move an inch."

"It's definitely real. A wig wouldn't be able to hold that anti-Newtonian arc."

Li Li had no interest in the US President's hairstyle.

His peripheral vision was locked entirely on the sergeant.

The moment this man stepped in and turned around, his gaze lingered on Snowden for half a second.

Just that half second.

The entire muscle chain from the sergeant's right shoulder to his forearm suddenly tensed up.

This wasn't a normal standing reaction.

This was the body's instinctive stress response after the brain matched an extremely dangerous target in its database.

He recognized Snowden.

The internal bulletins of Kadena Air Base were plastered all over the walls; even the perimeter security personnel knew Snowden's face by heart.

The sergeant didn't turn around.

But his left hand, hanging by his side, had subconsciously reached toward his waist.

It was empty there. Service uniforms didn't allow for carrying sidearms.

But this subconscious action completely gave away his hand.

The elevator car. Two meters by two meters. Five people. One half-crippled. And a camera with a blinking red light in the upper right corner.

If the sergeant just shouted out, or slammed the back of his hand against the alarm button.

Within three seconds, the entire building would be completely locked down.

He couldn't wait.

Li Li slightly bent his knees. All his weight shifted to the balls of his feet.

He wouldn't wait for the sergeant to turn around.

He wouldn't wait for him to make a sound.

He was only waiting for that tenth of a second when the sergeant's left hand felt nothing and his muscles showed a momentary lapse of confusion.

Now!

He pushed off with his toes.

His whole body sprang up like a heavy crossbow bolt released from its string.

His left knee shot out, slamming straight into the back of the sergeant's head.

His kneecap smashed heavily into the lower edge of the occipital bone. The explosive power of his entire thigh was poured into it without reservation.

"Bang!"

A dull thud.

The sergeant's head pitched forward violently, and without even a groan, his body collapsed straight toward the elevator door.

He hadn't even hit the floor yet.

Li Li's right fist had already punched out.

The target wasn't a person.

It was the camera in the upper right corner.

His fist smashed through the plastic casing. The red light went out. Fragments scattered.

A left knee to take down a man, a right fist to disable the surveillance.

Completed simultaneously.

The sergeant lay on the floor, red and white liquid seeping from the back of his head; he was completely unconscious.

But the other two soldiers reacted extremely quickly.

The soldier on the left turned sharply, using his momentum to throw a hook.

The soldier on the right turned with him, his leather boots already stomping over.

Li Li's right hand had just finished smashing the camera; there was no time to pull it back.

He raised his left arm, blocking with his forearm. He took the soldier on the left's hook head-on.

His bone vibrated with numbness.

He blocked it.

But the fist of the soldier on the right had also arrived.

It struck Li Li square in the abdomen.

Damn!

Li Li was knocked back half a step, his back slamming hard against the elevator wall. His abdominal muscles spasmed violently, and stomach acid surged up his throat.

The soldier on the left pressed his advantage, throwing a second punch straight at his face.

Li Li tilted his head to dodge. The fist grazed the edge of his helmet and slammed into the metal wall, denting it. The soldier gasped in pain.

The soldier on the right seized the opportunity to grab the collar of Li Li's flight suit and pulled down with all his might.

Their combined weight pressed down on Li Li.

The space was too small.

Two meters by two meters. Four grown men crammed together, without even enough room to turn around or take a fighting stance.

A pure, messy street brawl.

Just as Li Li was being pressed to the point of suffocation.

Snowden, in the corner, moved.

This programmer, who had been tortured until he was unrecognizable and couldn't even walk without swaying, suddenly lowered his head, arched his back, and slammed his entire body into the soldier on the right's waist.

A 140-pound bag of bones, carrying a desperate, do-or-die ferocity.

The soldier lost his balance from the impact and slammed sideways into the elevator door. His hand, which had been gripping Li Li's collar, let go.

The pressure on the right side cleared.

Li Li parried outward with his left arm, shaking off the soldier on the left.

His right hand was finally free.

From bottom to top, a vicious short hook.

His knuckles bit hard into the bottom of the soldier's chin.

The soldier's head snapped back violently, his cervical spine emitting a dangerous "crack" sound.

Li Li didn't give him a chance to breathe, pressing his advantage.

Three consecutive punches.

Temple. Jaw. Base of the ear.

The soldier's legs went soft, his eyes rolled back, and he slid down the elevator wall like a pile of mush.

One left.

The soldier who had been knocked away by Snowden regained his footing. He shoved Snowden away. Snowden's head hit the metal handrail hard, and his nose began to bleed profusely.

The soldier roared and lunged, his hands gripping Li Li's right arm tightly.

Ten fingers dug into his flesh. The strength was astonishing.

Li Li yanked hard. It didn't budge.

Fine.

You want to compare strength, huh?

Li Li engaged his waist, planted his left leg, and swung his right leg violently.

A sudden, unexpected roundhouse kick.

The top of his foot struck the soldier's crotch with pinpoint accuracy.

A textbook-level guided strike.

The soldier's features twisted instantly.

The hands gripping Li Li's arm let go as if electrocuted.

His mouth opened wide, but he couldn't make a sound; all the agony was stuck in his throat.

He brought his legs together, bent his knees, and slowly knelt to the ground.

Then, he lunged forward, face-planting onto the floor, clutching his crotch and twitching uncontrollably.

Finally, it was quiet in the elevator.

A mess everywhere.

One took a knee to the back of the head.

One took a hook to the chin.

One took a critical hit to the crotch.

Equal opportunity, precision strikes.

Li Li leaned against the elevator wall, bending over. The punch he took to his abdomen was still throbbing.

Snowden huddled in the corner, his blonde hair matted with blood from his nose.

"Are you… still okay?"

Li Li straightened up and exhaled a breath of stale air.

"I'm not dead yet."

Snowden held onto the railing and struggled to stand up straight. He wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve.

"That kick of yours just now…"

"Shut up." Li Li interrupted him. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. They'll understand when they wake up."

"No, I mean," Snowden wiped his nose again, "that was a really accurate kick."

Li Li was just about to respond.

"Ding."

The elevator made a crisp sound.

The display jumped to: 1.

They had arrived.

The metal doors slid open to the sides.

Outside the elevator stood a US military officer in camouflage.

He was looking down, scrolling on his phone.

Hearing the sound, the officer looked up.

His gaze passed through the elevator door.

Three unconscious soldiers were lying helter-skelter on the floor.

A blood-covered prisoner was leaning in the corner.

A man wearing a helmet and an ill-fitting flight suit stood in the middle.

The officer's hand shook.

His phone hit the floor with a "clatter."

Without any hesitation, he slapped his right hand toward the holster at his waist.

Drawing his gun.

Raising his arm.

The muzzle pointed straight at Li Li's chest.

His thumb flicked the safety catch.

"Click."

A bullet was chambered.

In the empty lobby of the first floor, that crisp sound was piercingly loud.