Chapter 21 George's Infiltration

In the suburbs, in an unremarkable budget hotel room, George stood by the window, looking down at the dim street below.

He had been in Huaxia for fourteen months and had stayed in all sorts of places—five-star hotels, university guesthouses, and old residential rentals. But every time he carried out a mission, he chose this kind of unremarkable budget hotel. He didn't want stars or service; he only wanted one thing: a window facing the main road for easy observation and evacuation.

His phone vibrated. An encrypted line.

"Is the location confirmed?"

"Confirmed," George replied, his voice calm. "Deep in the Qinling Mountains, about eighty kilometers from the nearest county town. The specific coordinates have been sent."

The other side was silent for a few seconds before asking, "What's the situation at the base's perimeter?"

"Heavily guarded. Three layers of physical isolation, two layers of electronic monitoring, and twenty-four-hour patrols. Conventional infiltration is almost impossible."

"So you have an unconventional plan."

George watched a truck drive past the window, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "There's a logistics support center inside the base responsible for supplying food, consumables, and daily necessities. All supplies entering the base must pass through there."

"You mean..."

"I'm not going in," George interrupted. "But the people who do go in can be used by me."

The other side fell silent again before asking, "What resources do you need?"

"Cash. No transfers, no electronic payments. I want cash. Five hundred thousand."

"Who can you bribe with five hundred thousand?"

George smiled. "It's not a bribe; it's laying the groundwork. Give them a taste of sweetness first, then slowly increase the stakes. These kinds of peripheral personnel have never seen so much money in their lives. After the first fifty thousand, he'll already be your man."

The other side didn't question him, only saying, "Pick it up at the usual place in three days."

The call ended.

George put away his phone and continued to look out the window.

Three days later, he appeared in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the county town.

This was a typical small northern county town—dusty buildings, potholed streets, and electric tricycles and motorcycles everywhere. The town wasn't big, with only two main roads, but it had everything: a vegetable market, supermarkets, restaurants, and a bus station with two daily trips to the city.

George stayed in the county town for two days and got a full grasp of the situation.

The base's logistics support center was located in the eastern suburbs of the county town, in a large compound with a sign that read 'Kunlun Base Logistics Service Department.' Every morning, several refrigerated trucks would depart from there, driving along the winding mountain roads into the deep mountains. In the evening, the empty trucks would return.

And the ones responsible for loading the refrigerated trucks were a group of local temporary workers.

George's target was one of them.

On the evening of the third day, George appeared in the largest restaurant in the county town.

He asked for a private room, ordered a few dishes, and then asked the waiter to invite the restaurant owner over.

The owner was a middle-aged man in his forties, chubby and friendly-looking. He was taken aback when he saw George upon entering. "You are...?"

"I'm from out of town, doing a bit of business," George stood up with a smile and handed him a cigarette. "What is your surname, boss?"

"My surname is Liu," Boss Liu took the cigarette and sized George up. "And you are...?"

"I'm looking for someone," George lit his cigarette and said nonchalantly. "There's a man in your county named Zhang Jianguo who works at the logistics base. Do you know him?"

Boss Liu's expression shifted. "Why are you looking for him?"

George took five hundred yuan from his pocket and placed it on the table. "It's nothing much. I just want to treat him to a meal and have a chat."

Boss Liu looked at the five hundred yuan and swallowed.

"He's been running a tab here for three months, totaling two thousand three hundred," he said with a hint of helplessness in his voice. "If you can help him settle the debt, I'll take you to find him right away."

George smiled, took out another two thousand, and pushed it over along with the five hundred.

"Lead the way."

Zhang Jianguo was forty-three years old and had worked at the logistics base for six years.

His job was to load the refrigerated trucks—vegetables, meat, eggs, and milk. He started work at 4:30 AM every morning, finished loading by 7:00 AM, and then went home to sleep. He earned two thousand eight hundred a month, which, with various subsidies, came to three thousand five hundred.

For an ordinary worker in a small county town, this was already a good job. It came with social security, a canteen, and two sets of work uniforms every year. The only downside was the physical toll; loading several tons of goods every day was hard on his back.

When George met him, he had just finished his shift at the base and was squatting in front of his house, smoking.

Boss Liu walked over and whispered a few words. Zhang Jianguo looked up and saw George, a flicker of wariness flashing in his eyes.

"You are...?"

"I'm from out of town and wanted to ask you about something," George said with a smile as he walked over and squatted beside him. "Master Zhang, I heard you've been working at the base for six years?"

Zhang Jianguo nodded but didn't speak.

George took a pack of Chunghwa cigarettes from his pocket and handed one over. Zhang Jianguo hesitated for a moment before taking it and tucking it behind his ear.

"Don't be nervous," George lit his own cigarette. "I'm just doing a bit of business and want to make some connections at the base. I heard they need all sorts of supplies inside and wanted to see if there's a way in."

Zhang Jianguo shook his head. "The supplies there are all centrally procured by the higher-ups. Outsiders can't get a foot in the door."

"I know," George said. "But there are always some issues that need to be handled privately, right? For example... sometimes you want to bring something inside?"

Zhang Jianguo's eyes narrowed as he stared at George. "What do you mean?"

George smiled and waved his hand. "Don't misunderstand, it's nothing bad. It's just that some researchers have been inside for a long time and get cravings; they want to eat something from the outside. I might not be good at much, but I can run errands. As long as the money is right, I can deliver anything."

He took a stack of money from his pocket, about five thousand yuan, and stuffed it into Zhang Jianguo's hand.

"This is a deposit. Keep an eye out for me and see if anyone needs anything brought in. As long as there's a demand, we can cooperate. You're only responsible for making the connection; you don't have to do anything else."

Zhang Jianguo looked at the money in his hand, his hand trembling slightly.

Five thousand yuan. Two months' salary.

"You... what exactly do you want?" he asked, his voice trembling.

George stood up and patted him on the shoulder. "Master Zhang, I'm just a courier. You help me make connections, and I give you money. It'll be our little secret; no one gets hurt."

He turned to leave, then looked back after a few steps. "By the way, next time I come, I'll bring you two cartons of cigarettes. Chunghwa, the authentic ones."

Zhang Jianguo remained squatting, staring at the money in his hand for a long time without moving.

Three days later, George appeared in the county town again.

This time, he arranged to meet Zhang Jianguo at a small restaurant on the outskirts of town. Zhang Jianguo arrived late, looking unwell, as if he hadn't slept for days.

George pushed the menu over. "Master Zhang, let's eat first. We can talk while we eat."

Zhang Jianguo didn't touch the menu, staring at George. "What exactly do you want?"

George poured himself a cup of tea and said unhurriedly, "Master Zhang, did you look into what I mentioned last time?"

Zhang Jianguo was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Someone wants to bring something in."

George's eyes lit up slightly. "Oh? What is it?"

"Cigarettes," Zhang Jianguo said. "A janitor inside wants to bring some in. Smoking isn't allowed there, and he's desperate for a puff, so he wants to sneak in a few packs."

George nodded, took an envelope from his bag, and pushed it over. "Here is ten thousand. Help me pass it to him. I'll bring the cigarettes next time."

Zhang Jianguo looked at the envelope, his hand trembling again.

"This... this is too much..."

"It's not," George said with a smile. "It's our first cooperation, for good luck. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future."

He stood up to leave but stopped, asking as if in passing, "By the way, have any new big shots arrived at your base recently? Someone... very young, who seems quite special?"

Zhang Jianguo was taken aback and thought for a moment. "There does seem to be a young man who arrived over a month ago. I heard from the canteen staff that he's always the first to arrive and the last to leave. Sometimes he even comes to eat in the middle of the night."

George's heart skipped a beat.

"What does he look like?"

"Quite tall, thin, and wears glasses," Zhang Jianguo tried to recall. "He looks quite friendly but doesn't talk much. He always comes alone, gets his food, and leaves."

George nodded, took another five thousand from his pocket, and placed it on the table.

"Master Zhang, I want to know more about this person. What he likes to eat, what time he comes for meals, who he's with, and what he says. Keep an eye out for me. I'll pay for every new piece of information."

Zhang Jianguo looked at the money on the table, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

George patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Walking out of the restaurant, the night wind blew, carrying the chill of early autumn.

George stood by the street, looking at the faint silhouette of the mountains in the distance, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Found him.

Three days later, Kunlun Base.

As usual, Lin Mo left the laboratory at ten o'clock in the evening to go to the canteen for a late-night snack.

There weren't many people in the canteen, only a few security guards on the night shift eating in the corner. Lin Mo got a bowl of noodles and found a seat by the window.

He had only taken a few bites when a middle-aged man in a white lab coat walked over with a tray and sat across from him.

"Chief Lin?" the man asked with a smile.

Lin Mo looked up, not recognizing him. "You are...?"

"I'm from the logistics support center, surname Ma. I'm in charge of supply procurement," the man extended his hand. "I've heard a lot about you; it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Lin Mo shook hands with him, not thinking much of it.

Master Ma chatted while he ate, asking Lin Mo if he was settling in well, if he liked the canteen food, and to let him know if he needed anything. Lin Mo answered each question politely but kept his distance.

After chatting for about ten minutes, Master Ma finished his meal and got up to leave.

Lin Mo continued eating his noodles, but he felt something was off.

That Master Ma's eyes kept darting around while he spoke, as if he were observing or confirming something.

He put down his chopsticks, thought for a moment, and then stood up to walk toward the security control room.

Zhao Gang wasn't asleep yet; he was smoking while facing the surveillance screens on the wall. Seeing Lin Mo enter, he raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

Lin Mo recounted what had just happened.

Zhao Gang's brow furrowed as he listened. "Surname Ma? Supply procurement?"

He turned to pull up the surveillance footage, found the scene in the canteen, and zoomed in on the man's face.

"He's not one of ours," Zhao Gang said, his voice turning cold. "There is no such person in the base's logistics."

Lin Mo's heart sank.

Zhao Gang picked up his walkie-talkie. "All teams, attention. A suspicious person has been spotted wearing a white lab coat, in his forties, last seen in the canteen area. Conduct an immediate search and detain if necessary."

A response came through the walkie-talkie.

Zhao Gang looked at Lin Mo, a flicker of a complex expression in his eyes.

"You're very alert," he said. "Go back and rest; I'll handle the rest."

Lin Mo nodded and turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. "Captain Zhao, is someone targeting us?"

Zhao Gang was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Someone has been watching us from the very beginning. It's just that now, they've moved closer."

He looked out at the night sky, his voice low. "But don't worry. As long as I'm here, they won't get in."

Lin Mo returned to his room and lay on the bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time.

Outside, the mountain wind howled.

What he didn't know was that at this moment, in some corner of the county town, George was counting the intelligence he had just received.

That Master Ma, who had posed as a logistics worker, was another one of his pawns. Although he would soon be exposed, it was already enough—he had confirmed Lin Mo's location, confirmed he was still at the base, and confirmed that everything was proceeding according to plan.

He picked up his phone and sent the final command:

"Target confirmed. Prepare to initiate Phase Two."

The night was as dark as ink; a mountain storm was brewing.