140: Chapter 140 "The Ghost's" Final Report and Craig's Madness
Logistics park, 3:00 AM.
The darkness was as thick as ink, but "Ghost" knew that this darkness was no longer friendly to him. It was more like a layer of translucent gel, with countless non-human "eyes" staring at him coldly and emotionlessly through this layer.
He curled up in the bottom compartment of a half-empty shipping container. This was a cramped space he had temporarily modified using a piece of scrap metal and a few drops of quick-drying glue during the previous brief chaos, barely enough to block most direct optical observation and infrared detection. The air was foul and stuffy, and sweat soaked through his tattered casual clothes, mixing with dust and rust to emit an unpleasant odor.
Yet his mind was as clear and sharp as if it were soaked in ice water.
On his left wrist, the non-electronic crystal resonance watch had its chaotic interference fringes on the dial stabilized, pointing to a specific low-frequency resonance mode—this was the faint connection between him and his last, and deepest, "insurance measure." That was a miniature satellite communication beacon disguised as an ordinary industrial component, hidden by him deep in the chassis of a large vehicle somewhere in the logistics park. It would only initiate a one-time, extremely brief signal burst using non-standard frequency hopping and encryption protocols after receiving the specific resonance code emitted by his watch.
The cost was that the moment the beacon started, its energy signature would be enough for any high-sensitivity detector nearby to notice, and his location would be completely exposed. This was a one-time, suicidal communication method.
His right hand tightly gripped his miniature computer, which had undergone countless modifications and now had a damaged shell but a perfectly intact core. The dim light of the screen illuminated his stained but unusually calm face. He was typing the final report, his fingers tapping on the miniature keyboard so fast they almost left afterimages.
The content of the report was an irrefutable conclusion he had exchanged with his life and the loss of "Viper":
【Final Action Report - Codename: Ghost】
Subject: Identity Confirmation and Threat Assessment of Target 'Patriot X'
I. Core Conclusion:
The target person 'Lin Mo' (male, 22 years old, recent graduate of Long Country Aerospace Engineering major) is 'Patriot X' himself, or at least his only core agent and technical master. Confirmation probability: ≥ 95%.
II. Key Evidence Chain:
Behavioral Pattern Correlation: The target's early abnormal procurement records (professional electronic/chemical components) highly overlap with the time window of 'Patriot X's' first technology leak. The target's behavioral silence period after Long Country launched the 'Chasing Light Project' fits the logic of being strictly protected by national-level forces.
Technical Feature Locking: During this operation, encountered an unprecedented, miniaturized, intelligent, and coordinated drone surveillance and strike network. Its technical performance (biomimetic camouflage, multi-modal perception fusion, directional infrasound/electromagnetic attack) far exceeds the public or secret levels of any known country, perfectly matching the leapfrog technology tree characteristics displayed by 'Patriot X'.
Decision-making Hierarchy Response: In the kindergarten hostage incident, the opponent's reaction speed, technical intervention method (non-lethal, efficient, precise), and subsequent all-around suppression of our operations all indicate that a core figure with top-tier technical support far exceeding the conventional command hierarchy is directly intervening. This person's application of civilian technology weapons and insistence on moral bottom lines (prioritizing the protection of children) are consistent with the behavioral logic of 'Patriot X' anonymously handing over technology to assist Long Country.
Environmental Analysis: The environment I am currently in has been completely covered by an intelligent, networked perception system. This ability to transform a local area into an 'intelligent hunting ground' is a direct manifestation of the systemic technical advantage represented by 'Patriot X'.
III. Threat Assessment (Highest Level - Extermination):
The target 'Lin Mo' is not merely a technology provider. He is the core engine and source of knowledge for Long Country's current and future technological explosion. His personal value has been deeply bound to national strategic potential. The technical integration, innovation, and practical application capabilities he has demonstrated have the potential to subvert the existing international balance of power. He is young, patriotic, strictly protected, and has huge growth potential.
IV. Inference:
It is highly likely that Long Country has built a complete 'technology-talent-industry-military' conversion system around 'Lin Mo'. The 'Moon Base', 'controlled nuclear fusion', and 'quantum network' are just the tip of the iceberg. He must possess more undisclosed and more strategically significant technologies.
V. Recommendations:
Immediate Action: Conventional infiltration, reconnaissance, and sabotage have proven ineffective and costly. The target is alert and under absolute protection.
Ultimate Means: If unable to acquire, one must, at all costs, physically eliminate the target before he is officially 'launched' by Long Country and his value is fully locked in. Any hesitation will lead to an irreversible strategic disadvantage.
Beware of the 'Debut': Based on Long Country's behavioral patterns and current situation analysis, Long Country may be about to disclose 'Lin Mo's' identity in some high-profile form, shaping him into a national-level symbol. Once this happens, the difficulty of elimination will increase exponentially, and the political risk will be immense.
VI. Remarks:
This report is sent via the 'Albatross-7' one-time beacon. After sending, my location will be exposed. I will attempt to break out or destroy the core equipment. 'Viper' confirmed captured. Mission... failed. Ghost, signed.】
The last character was typed. "Ghost" did not pause for a second, quickly multi-encrypting and compressing the report file, and then connecting it to the watch on his left wrist via a physical data cable. He initiated the watch's final encoding sequence.
Under the watch dial, an extremely faint vibration was emitted, lasting about five seconds. Immediately after, the crystal structure inside the watch developed fine cracks due to resonance overload and completely failed.
Almost at the same moment, about two hundred meters away from the shipping container where "Ghost" was hiding, deep in the chassis of a cross-provincial heavy truck about to depart before dawn, the beacon disguised as a shock absorber shim was activated.
An electromagnetic pulse, compressed to the extreme, lasting less than 0.1 seconds, and with a frantically jumping frequency, tore through the night sky like an unseen bolt of lightning in the darkness, shooting towards a repeater in synchronous orbit that had long been secretly controlled by the organization "Ghost" belonged to and disguised as a commercial communication satellite.
The moment the beacon completed the transmission, its internal circuits overloaded and burned out, turning into a piece of useless scrap metal.
And the moment the watch vibrated, "Ghost" lunged out of the container compartment! He had at most another minute, or even less!
He did not attempt to rush to the logistics park boundary—that was bound to be a heavily blockaded area. Instead, he rushed towards the center of the park, the hub area with large lighting towers and some management facilities! He wanted to create chaos, attract attention, and buy himself a few last seconds to destroy the miniature computer he carried with him, which stored some raw data and tools!
He had just rushed out less than fifty meters— "Swish! Swish! Swish!"
Several pale blue low-energy laser beams, like precise scalpels, fell on the ground and stacked cargo containers in his path, marking his movement trajectory. Around him, from the shadows in at least four different directions, came extremely faint, non-human wing-flapping and movement sounds.
"hummingbird" network, instantaneous reaction!
Meanwhile, on the other side of the ocean, in a secluded coastal safe house.
James Craig's eyes were bloodshot, his hair was as messy as withered grass, and his expensive shirt was wrinkled, emitting the smell of alcohol and sourness. On the table in front of him were scattered empty bottles, pills, and a pile of briefings on Long Country's technological progress that made him feel more desperate the more he looked at them.
He had been completely marginalized. Under the continuous strikes of "Jinwu" and "Mozi", Pretty Country was in endless internal quarrels, and his failure became the best scapegoat. He had lost power, lost status, leaving only full of unwillingness, resentment, and... increasingly unstable madness.
"Damn it... it's all that 'Patriot X'! It's all him!" Craig grabbed his hair and growled at the air, "If it weren't for him... I would still be the director! We would still control everything! Long Country should be on their knees begging us!"
Just as he was on the verge of a total breakdown, even beginning to fantasize about using his last connections to mobilize strategic weapons for a "destructive retaliation"—a completely unrealistic, crazy thought—the dedicated terminal in front of him, which was in a state of absolute physical isolation, suddenly flashed a glaring red light on the screen!
A prompt with an encryption level of "Omega-Death" popped up. Craig's turbid eyes widened, and he lunged to the terminal, his fingers trembling as he entered the thirty-two-digit dynamic password and biometric verification.
An extremely brief report, forwarded via satellite relay with an extremely tortuous signal path, was decrypted and presented. It was precisely "Ghost"'s final report!
Craig read greedily, word by word, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier, the expression on his face shifting from astonishment to disbelief, and then to a morbid ecstasy and even deeper resentment!
"Lin Mo... Lin Mo! So it was you! A twenty-two-year-old college student? Hahahaha!" Craig laughed maniacally, the laughter echoing in the empty safe house, sounding particularly creepy, "A green kid! Destroyed everything of mine! Destroyed the cornerstone of the empire!"
He saw words like "Confirmation probability ≥ 95%", "Core engine", "Extermination-level threat", "Eliminate at all costs", and the madness in his eyes almost overflowed.
"Eliminate... Yes! Eliminate!" He stood up abruptly, pacing the room like a trapped beast, "'Ghost' is right! Must kill him before he is officially 'launched' by Long Country! As long as he is dead, Long Country's technological leap will stall! They will fall back into chaos! We still have a chance!"
He rushed to the terminal, no longer caring about any communication security protocols (he believed he had nothing left to lose), and with an almost paranoid fervor, began to send the highest-priority order to that secret relay satellite in synchronous orbit that received "Ghost"'s report. He mobilized the last few "dark lines" he had left from his time as former director, activating several "ultimate action assets" sleeping around Long Country that even the current CIA top brass might not know about.
The core of the order was simple and crazy: 【Confirm target: Lin Mo. Location: XX City and surrounding areas on the southeast coast of Long Country (precise coordinates refer to 'Ghost's' last signal source). Authorization: Use all feasible means to complete the physical elimination of the target within 48 hours. Operation codename: 'Doomsday Bell Tolls'. Priority: Above everything.】
He didn't even have a detailed plan, no escape plan. He just wanted to hear the news of the death of the young man named Lin Mo, as if only then could he calm the failure and hatred burning everything in his heart.
After sending the order, Craig collapsed into his chair, panting heavily, with a bizarre smile mixed with despair, anticipation, and cruelty on his face, looking at the sky gradually whitening in the east.
"Lin Mo... 'Patriot X'... Hehehe... You escaped 'Ghost', escaped 'Viper'... Can you escape the 'Doomsday Bell Tolls' ringing for you?"
In the safe house, only his neurotic low laughter and muttering remained.
Meanwhile, in the logistics park in Long Country, "Ghost"'s final breakout attempt came to an abrupt end under the coverage of reinforced neural interference waves cross-released by several "hummingbird" drones. Carrying a trace of relief that the mission was completed and the regret of not being able to personally confirm the target's death, he fell into a deep coma and was controlled and transferred by the "Dark Blade" squad that arrived quickly.
The final report he sent, like a deadly poisonous seed, had fallen into the most crazy and reckless soil, about to spawn even more violent and dangerous actions.