131: Chapter 131 "The Viper" Strikes, Falls into the Trap
"Target confirmed. Warehouse No. 3. Move out."
On the encrypted communicator, this cold and brief message made "Viper," who was lying in wait in another safe house in the city, snap his eyes open. He had been reclining in the shadows, dozing, like a coiled pit viper. At this moment, his muscles suddenly tensed and then quickly relaxed, entering an extremely calm and dangerous state of combat readiness.
No questions, no hesitation. He and "Ghost" had a clear division of labor: "Ghost" was responsible for finding the target, and he was responsible for eliminating it.
He quickly checked his equipment: a compact submachine gun with a silencer and three magazines; two backup pistols; several fragmentation grenades and flashbangs; a tactical dagger; high-strength fiber rope; and a set of portable thermal imaging and low-light night vision goggles. All the equipment had a matte finish, barely reflecting any light in the dimness.
He changed into a set of dark gray urban combat fatigues, topped with an inconspicuous waterproof jacket, concealing most of his gear on his person. Finally, he glanced at the tactical terminal on his wrist, which displayed the general layout and coordinates of Warehouse No. 3 synchronized by "Ghost."
"Old industrial area, abandoned warehouse... quite a good place to hide." The faint scar at the corner of "Viper's" mouth twitched, revealing a nearly cruel sneer. He liked this kind of environment—complex structures, limited visibility, and sparse surveillance. It was the perfect hunting ground for someone like him, who specialized in close-quarters assault and stealth operations.
He didn't choose to drive, as that would make the target too large. Instead, he blended into the deepening twilight like a phantom, approaching the old industrial area at an incredible speed and with great stealth, using unconventional paths such as alleys, rooftops, and even underground pipes. His route completely avoided main roads and major surveillance points. Occasionally encountering scattered pedestrians returning home late, he sensed them in advance and skillfully avoided them, as if he were a part of the shadows himself.
Forty minutes later, "Viper" silently climbed onto the roof of an abandoned factory building opposite Warehouse No. 3 like a gecko. He stayed low, took out high-magnification low-light binoculars and a thermal imager, and began to carefully scout the target.
The warehouse appeared dilapidated, with the iron door ajar and most of the windows broken, looking like it had been out of repair for years. But "Viper" keenly noticed that near an inconspicuous vent at the side and rear of the warehouse, there were extremely faint traces of heat sources differing from the ambient temperature. Although very faint and dissipating quickly, they were still visible under his top-tier equipment.
"Someone has been active recently... and tried to cover their tracks," "Viper" judged in his mind. The thermal imaging swept through the interior of the warehouse. Most areas were cold and silent, but in the depths of the warehouse, near the underground entrance, the thermal imaging showed a patch of blurriness that was hard to penetrate—there were good heat insulation or shielding measures there.
Everything matched the characteristics of a temporary, hidden safe house with a certain level of defensive capability.
He didn't wait to rendezvous with "Ghost." The window of action was fleeting. He trusted "Ghost's" judgment and his own abilities and equipment. His mission was to deliver a thunderous strike before the target could potentially move or react.
Taking a deep breath, "Viper" slid down from the factory roof like a lithe feline, landing soundlessly. He avoided the main entrance and chose to sneak in through a gap in a damaged wall on the side of the warehouse. His footsteps were as light as feathers, each step precisely calculated to avoid broken bricks and debris on the ground, while his ears were pricked, catching any minute sound inside the warehouse.
The interior of the warehouse was vast and dark, with only the faint light filtering through the broken windows outlining the hideous silhouettes of piled-up discarded machinery and junk. The air was thick with the smell of dust and rust. "Viper" moved forward cautiously and quickly like a ghost blending into the darkness, using his night vision goggles and following the direction of the abnormal area indicated by the thermal imaging.
He soon found the entrance to the underground—a heavy iron door that looked rusty but actually had a brand-new lock cylinder. The door was slightly ajar, leaving a crack.
"Viper" didn't enter immediately. He crouched down and used a thin fiber optic borescope to peer through the crack, observing the stairs and passage below. The images sent back by the borescope showed a concrete staircase leading down, with dim lights and silence.
It was too quiet. Unnaturally quiet.
A flash of instinctive alertness crossed "Viper's" mind. But he had absolute confidence in his skills and equipment, and the energy signature evidence provided by "Ghost" was conclusive. Perhaps the other party thought this place was hidden enough and let down their guard? Or perhaps the core personnel were deep inside, performing some kind of work that couldn't be interrupted?
He gently pushed the door open without making a sound, slipped inside, and quickly occupied a visual blind spot at the corner of the stairs, scanning downward again with thermal imaging. Below seemed to be a corner, and the thermal imaging still showed that blurred area not far behind the corner.
Take a gamble!
"Viper" no longer hesitated and darted down the stairs silently like a cheetah. His movements were swift and precise, reaching the corner in an instant. He peeked around the corner in a flash—it was a small underground space with some old distribution boxes piled up, and at the end of the space, there seemed to be an even heavier metal door, with an extremely faint light leaking from under the crack.
The target was behind that door!
A cold light flashed in "Viper's" eyes. Just as he was about to launch an assault, suddenly—
"Ssss—!"
An almost inaudible sound of gas being released came from above! "Viper's" reaction was incredibly fast; he instantly held his breath and retreated rapidly! But it was too late. A colorless and odorless gas had already filled the area where he had just been and took effect quickly through skin contact. He only felt an irresistible weakness in his limbs, and the scene before him began to spin and blur.
Anesthetic gas! A trap!
Alarm bells rang wildly in "Viper's" mind. Enduring the dizziness, he lunged to the side while raising his hand and pulling the trigger toward the general direction where he remembered the gas being released!
"Puff, puff, puff!" The silenced submachine gun spat tongues of fire.
But the bullets only hit the empty walls and pipes, splashing a few sparks. His actions, however, triggered more traps.
"Bang! Bang!" On the walls on both sides, hidden flashbangs suddenly exploded. Although there was no shrapnel, the deafening noise and intense flash instantly deprived "Viper" of his hearing and vision. The intense dizziness made him completely lose his balance, and he collapsed to the ground.
Immediately afterward, several hidden firing ports in the ceiling and floor opened, and several non-lethal tranquilizer darts shot out, accurately hitting his limbs and torso. A high concentration of anesthetic was instantly injected.
"Ugh..." "Viper" struggled in vain for a moment. His vision went completely dark, and his consciousness was like falling into the deep sea, sinking rapidly. Before losing consciousness completely, the last things he heard were several extremely light, rapidly approaching footsteps and a cold, low-voiced confirmation with a Dragon Country accent:
"Target 'Viper' is incapacitated. Capture confirmed."
Underground in the warehouse, the lights turned on one by one. Several members of the "Dark Blade" squad, fully clad in black special warfare gear with camouflage paint on their faces, emerged from their hiding spots. They skillfully checked "Viper's" condition, disarmed him of all weapons, firmly bound his hands and feet with special restraints, and injected him with medicine to maintain his vital signs.
"Reporting to Director Long, 'Viper' has been captured. The process was smooth and did not attract external attention," the squad leader reported in a low voice into the communicator.
"Very good. Clean up the scene and transfer the target to the 'Black Prison' immediately," Long Zhantian's voice came through. "'Ghost' should be arriving soon. Prepare to 'welcome' him according to Plan B."
"Understood!"
Inside the mobile fortress, Lin Mo watched the life signal representing "Viper" on the screen change from violent fluctuations to a stable but controlled state. He then watched the "Dark Blade" squad begin to quickly clean up the anesthetic gas and bullet marks, breathing a slight sigh of relief.
The [information fog] mission progress bar jumped up significantly the moment "Viper" was subdued, reaching 92%.
"Step one, complete," Lin Mo whispered, but his gaze turned to another screen, to the light dot representing "Ghost" that was rapidly approaching Warehouse No. 3 from a different direction.