PFC Chapter 1180 Are all of us here?
Chapter 1180 Are all of us here?
Chen Gongshu looked up at Zhao Guangyuan, his eyes sharp and firm: "If I have the chance, I will naturally not let him go."
He paused, his tone softening slightly, and continued, "But don't worry, our main target is still Wang Kemin."
Takasaki Takuto is extremely valuable, and Wang Kemin, this puppet, will definitely try every means to curry favor with him.
Once Takasaki Takuto arrives in Beiping, Wang Kemin will inevitably visit the Beiping Hotel frequently. At that point, we can kill two birds with one stone: assassinate Wang Kemin and seize the opportunity to eliminate Takasaki Takuto. Even if we fail, we can still deal a heavy blow to the Japanese army.
Zhao Guangyuan suddenly realized, and the shock on his face gradually faded, replaced by recognition.
He leaned closer to the blueprint, his finger stopping at a certain spot, and said in a serious tone, "It's right here, at the intersection of West Chang'an Street and South Chang'an Street."
The intersection is open and the road is wide enough to facilitate a quick retreat after the operation. Furthermore, there are several shops and alleyways nearby, allowing for a swift escape into the alleys after the operation.
At this point, his tone became more hesitant: "But the problem is that the Japanese army will definitely deploy a tight defense along this route, with a large number of military police and puppet police stationed along the way, and checkpoints set up at intersections. It will be extremely difficult to take action here, and our people will probably have a hard time getting close."
“There’s nothing to hesitate about,” Chen Gongshu interrupted him, his tone resolute. “The more dangerous the place, the greater the opportunity.”
The more meticulous the Japanese defenses were, the easier it was for loopholes to appear.
If we plan ahead and seize the right opportunity, we may very well succeed.
He knew full well that this mission was fraught with peril, and there was no absolutely safe way to assassinate a core target like Wang Kemin; he had no choice but to take the risk.
He paused, then looked at Zhao Guangyuan, his tone serious: "Are all our men here? Where are they on standby? Are our weapons and equipment ready?"
The key to the operation lies in personnel and weapons; only by ensuring these two aspects are in place can a more comprehensive plan be formulated.
"Qi Anzhi and his group have arrived. There are sixteen of them in total. They are currently staying at the Tongfu Inn on Xiheyan Street." Zhao Guangyuan immediately replied, "I have instructed them not to go out today and to stay at the inn to await your instructions."
"The weapons and equipment are all here with me. There's a secret room in the basement of the study; I can retrieve them at any time."
Chen Gongshu pondered for a moment, his eyes deep: "Take me to see them. We need to come up with a specific action plan and assign tasks as soon as possible. Time is running out."
Also, prepare a topographical map of Coal Slag Alley; I need to see it.
Upon hearing this, Zhao Guangyuan hesitated for a moment, his tone carrying a hint of dissuasion: "Do you really want to save Liu Geqing?"
Station Chief Chen, Coal Slag Alley is the headquarters of the Japanese military intelligence agency. It is even more heavily guarded than Dongjiaomin Alley, with high walls, narrow roads, and numerous sentry posts. Moreover, there are interrogation rooms and prisons inside, making it extremely secure.
After Liu Geqing was arrested, he was imprisoned in that underground cell, and we had no way to get close.
He paused, his tone becoming even more urgent: "Moreover, time is too tight now. Today is the 10th, and there are only five days left until the ceremony to establish the puppet government. We need to survey the terrain, deploy personnel, prepare weapons, and deal with all kinds of emergencies. We simply don't have the extra energy to rescue Liu Geqing."
If the rescue operation fails, not only will we fail to rescue the person, but we will also expose our whereabouts, affecting the entire assassination mission. It would be a losing proposition.
Liu Geqing was a key member of the Kuomintang's Beiping station. He was unfortunately captured by the Japanese army while investigating Wang Kemin's whereabouts and was imprisoned at the military police station in Meizha Hutong.
Zhao Guangyuan did not want to save people, but the situation was critical and the assassination mission was imminent. He was unwilling to risk everything to save people and cause the entire plan to fail.
Chen Gongshu's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable firmness, his eyes filled with emotion: "Whether we can save him or not, we have to try."
Liu Geqing was arrested because of a mission. He knows too many of our secrets. If he is tortured by the Japanese army, not only will he suffer terribly, but our entire operation, and even all the Military Intelligence Bureau forces in Beiping, will be wiped out.
He raised his hand and gently patted Zhao Guangyuan's shoulder, his tone softening slightly but still firm: "Besides, we are brothers who have fought side by side, we can't abandon him."
No matter the cost, you have to try.
We can split into two groups: one group will prepare for the assassination, while the other group will secretly scout the terrain of Coal Slag Alley and look for opportunities to rescue the person, trying to do both without delay.
Looking into Chen Gongshu's determined eyes, Zhao Guangyuan's hesitation gradually dissipated.
He knew that Chen Gongshu was right; he couldn't leave Liu Geqing unattended, nor could he disregard their brotherhood.
He nodded emphatically and said respectfully, "Alright, I'll arrange it. Please rest here for a while and have some tea to warm yourself up."
At 2 PM, we exited through the back door, avoiding the street guards, and headed to the Tongfu Inn to meet them.
"Okay." Chen Gongshu nodded in agreement.
Zhao Guangyuan turned and walked out of the study, gently closing the door behind him.
Silence returned to the study, broken only by the crackling of sparks from the charcoal brazier.
Chen Gongshu paced slowly in the study, his gaze sweeping over the ancient books on the bookshelf, his fingertips occasionally tracing the spines of the books.
He walked to the bookshelf, pulled out a thread-bound copy of "Records of the Grand Historian," the pages were yellowed and the edges were worn, clearly indicating that it had been frequently read.
He casually flipped through the book, his gaze landing on "Biographies of Assassins": Jing Ke's assassination attempt on the King of Qin, Zhuan Zhu's assassination attempt on the King of Wu, Nie Zheng's assassination attempt on Han Kui...
The names of assassins flashed before my eyes. For their beliefs and for the greater good, they risked their lives and died for their cause. Their determination and loyalty were truly moving.
Chen Gongshu's fingertips gently brushed across the words on the pages, his gaze gradually hardening.
At exactly two o'clock in the afternoon, Chen Gongshu changed his clothes behind the curtain in the back room of the painting shop. He was wearing a faded coarse cloth short jacket with frayed edges at the collar and some undried paste on the cuffs. It was the kind of outfit that Zhao Guangyuan had specially found for his shop assistant to wear.
His demeanor had changed from that of a composed and decisive station chief of the Military Intelligence Bureau's Beiping station to that of a somewhat dull-witted waiter who could be found anywhere in the city.
"Is everything ready?" Zhao Guangyuan stood by the door, dressed in a dark blue silk robe and carrying a cloth bag containing Xuan paper, looking every bit like a painting shop owner.
He glanced at Chen Gongshu, making sure there were no flaws, before tilting his head towards the back door: "The mute is waiting outside. The car is the one used to deliver picture frames, so it won't arouse suspicion."
Chen Gongshu nodded, walking very lightly, and followed Zhao Guangyuan through the corridor piled with unfinished scrolls.
The back door is a mottled wooden door that creaks softly when pushed open, and a cold wind rushes in instantly, carrying the unique smell of coal smoke and dust from the alley.
The narrow alley outside the gate was less than two feet wide, with withered vines climbing all over the walls. An old handcart was parked against the wall, with thick hemp rope wrapped around the wheels to prevent slipping. There were more than a dozen empty picture frames piled on the cart, with sawdust and paint stuck to the edges of the frames. It looked no different from an ordinary delivery vehicle.