PFC Chapter 1188 Then Let's Go Hard
Chapter 1188 Then Let's Go Hard
Zhao Guangyuan then called the two men in the alley over and introduced them to Chen Gongshu.
"The brother driving the car is called Sun the Cripple. He used to be a driver in the 29th Army. He was hit in the left leg by a Japanese Type 38 rifle bullet and was left with a disability, so everyone called him Sun the Cripple. His real name is Sun Weiguo."
Sun Weiguo took a step forward, his left leg pausing slightly as it landed, but he quickly regained his balance, his back straight, much like a military flag that had never bent on the battlefield.
He nodded slightly in greeting, his voice booming loudly enough to drown out the wind outside the window, carrying the characteristic strength of a soldier: "Station Chief Chen, I guarantee the mission will be accomplished! Even if it's a mountain of knives and a sea of fire, I can get you and Mr. Zhou in safely and bring you out unharmed!"
His eyes were as firm as cold stars, and his limp in his left leg did not make him look disheveled, but rather added a touch of vicissitude and reliability from his battle-hardened experience.
Zhao Guangyuan added, "His driving skills are among the best in Beiping, especially in those winding alleys, which he knows like the back of his hand."
Even in the dead of night, you can drive fast and steadily without the tires scraping against the wall.
After the fall of Beiping, many brothers withdrew, but he stayed behind, constantly helping us transport weapons and ammunition, and ferrying intelligence personnel. Several times he escaped danger right under the noses of Japanese patrols. He was an absolutely reliable and tough guy.
Chen Gongshu's gaze fell on Sun Weiguo's left leg, then moved to his hands gripping the steering wheel. Those hands were covered in calluses, with prominent knuckles, clearly the marks left by years of holding guns and steering wheels.
He nodded slightly, his tone steady: "Master Sun, thank you for your hard work. Tonight's route needs to avoid the main patrol areas of the Japanese army. There are many Japanese sentries near Meizha Hutong, so we need to plan alternative routes in advance."
“Don’t worry, Station Chief Chen,” Sun Weiguo grinned, revealing two rows of neat white teeth, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed together: “I’ve already scouted the area. From Rongbaozhai to Meizha Hutong, there are three alleys to walk through. The shortest one only takes a quarter of an hour. Even if we encounter a patrol team, we can turn into the narrow alley next to it to avoid them.”
Zhao Guangyuan then turned to the young man wearing glasses next to him. Under the light, the young man's glasses gleamed, but his eyes held a determination beyond his years: "The one who speaks Japanese is called Zhou Ming. His parents were killed by the Japanese when they were doing business in Northeast China. After Beiping fell, he didn't leave. The station recruited him as an external intelligence agent, and he has been helping to pass on Japanese intelligence and translate confidential documents."
He grew up with his uncle who was a businessman in Japan, and his Japanese was indistinguishable from that of a native speaker. Even when he was talking to Japanese military officers, no one would suspect anything.
Furthermore, he possesses some basic medical knowledge, which will be perfect for him to disguise himself as a military medic's assistant tonight, allowing him to handle the Japanese soldiers' questioning.
Zhou Ming pushed up his glasses, and his eyes behind the lenses instantly turned cold, revealing a suppressed, deep-seated hatred.
A determined smile appeared on his face, and his tone was calm but his words were firm: "Station Chief Chen, rest assured, I have absolutely no problem with Japanese. I can answer common medical terms and military instructions fluently."
"My family all died at the hands of the Japanese army. It's worth sacrificing myself to do my part in the resistance against Japan." He raised his hand and grasped the Browning pistol at his waist, his fingertips stroking the gun with practiced gentleness, showing that he was extremely familiar with the gun.
Chen Gongshu's gaze fell on the Browning, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable seriousness: "Do you know how to use this?"
Tonight's operation is highly unpredictable. If we are exposed, our guns will be our only defense; we must keep them in our hands at all times and cannot afford to be careless.
Without saying a word, Zhou Ming smoothly ejected the magazine, quickly scanned the bullets inside, and after confirming that there was enough ammunition, he pushed the magazine back in with a "click," tucked the gun back to his waist with the muzzle pointing upwards. The whole set of movements was smooth and fluid, without the slightest bit of unfamiliarity.
“When I was in Japan with my uncle, I learned shooting from a local instructor. My marksmanship is pretty good, and I have no problem shooting at close range.” He added, “I also specifically practiced shooting with my left hand in case my right hand is injured and I can’t fight.”
"Good." Chen Gongshu nodded in satisfaction, walked to the table and spread out a simple map of Beiping. The light from the oil lamp illuminated the red dot marked on the map, which was the location of the military police station in Meizha Hutong.
He pointed to the map and began to meticulously plan the nighttime rescue mission, his serious tone making the air seem to freeze: "We will depart promptly at 10:00 PM tonight."
Driving slowly, Mr. Sun pretended to be making a normal house call to avoid attracting the attention of the Japanese army.
I'll pretend to be the chief military doctor, and Zhou Ming, you're my assistant, so be firm in your words.
Japanese doctors held high positions in the military and were mostly arrogant. I would pretend to be disdainful of speaking to lower-ranking soldiers, and you would handle all the questioning.
He paused, then pointed heavily at the location of the military police station on the map, emphasizing: "Remember, you must adopt the arrogant attitude of a Japanese military doctor. The Japanese are suspicious and will most likely check your credentials and orders. You must deal with it calmly and not show any weakness."
Answer questions concisely and avoid unnecessary details. Too much talk leads to mistakes, especially avoid mentioning details of Liu Geqing's identity unless pressed for details.
Upon arriving at the military police station in Meizha Hutong, they said they were ordered by the North China Area Army Headquarters to take Liu Geqing to the Army Hospital for treatment, because he carried important intelligence, and if he was not treated in time, his critical condition would lead to the loss of the intelligence.
This reason is sufficient; the Japanese army will most likely not refuse.
Zhou Ming frowned, his tone tinged with tension but more so with determination: "What if the Japanese insist on not releasing the people, or try to call headquarters to verify?"
If they discover the order is fake, we'll be in dire straits.
He knew perfectly well that tonight's operation relied entirely on "false orders" and "disguised identities" to get by, and once exposed, the three of them would surely die.
Chen Gongshu reached out and patted the Mauser pistol at his waist, then touched the grenade in his pocket. His eyes were as cold as ice, and his tone revealed a resolute determination to die together with his opponent: "Then let's go for the hard way."
If we can rescue him, we'll proceed to the rendezvous point as planned. If we can't, we can't let Liu Geqing suffer further torture at the hands of the Japanese, and we absolutely cannot allow him to leak secrets. If necessary... we'll have to sacrifice even family for the greater good.
These words were spoken calmly, yet they were like a boulder thrown into water, making everyone present feel the weight and resolve within them.
Sun Weiguo and Zhou Ming exchanged a glance, nodded emphatically, and said in unison, "Understood!"
Silence fell again in the secret room, with only the even breathing of the three people and the occasional horn of a Japanese patrol car outside the window. The horn sound was sharp and piercing, like a sharp knife cutting through the night sky of Beiping, as if reminding them that the city had long been shrouded in the shadow of evil.