RNP Chapter 122 Operation Breaking the Cocoon - Making a Dirty Possible
Chapter 122 Operation Breaking the Cocoon - Making a Dirty Possible
Xiao Li squatted on the ground, his fingers flying across the keypad.
Su Yan stood guard at the door, her ear pressed against the door panel, listening to the sounds outside.
"Click." The safe opened.
Xiao Li took out the leather notebook inside, which was the map of the Japanese army's supply routes.
"Withdraw!" Su Yan shouted in a low voice.
As soon as the three stepped out of the mansion, they heard a gunshot behind them. Qian Zhongming had been awakened and was rushing out of the bedroom with a gun in his hand.
Su Yan turned around, raised her hand, and fired a shot, hitting him squarely in the shoulder.
Qian Zhongming screamed and fell to the ground.
"Should we leave them alive?" Xiao Zhang asked.
Looking at Qian Zhongming's ferocious face, Su Yan thought of the comrades he had killed, and her eyes turned cold: "No need."
Another shot was fired, the sound swallowed up by the night.
As dawn broke, Su Yan led her team back to the base with the route map.
Her cheongsam was covered in dust and mud, but she had a relieved smile on her face.
As soon as I entered, I saw Su Ling standing in the yard, holding a towel in her hand.
"You're back quite early."
Su Ling stepped forward and handed her a towel, her tone filled with undisguised admiration, "Your movements were clean and efficient, your intelligence was accurate, and you managed to lead your team to safety. Su Yan, you did a great job this time."
Su Yan was taken aback, took the towel, and her cheeks felt slightly hot.
"The captain said," Su Ling lowered her voice, adding as instructed by Yan Shuo, "this time, you truly took control of the situation. Remember this feeling: your life and your mission should be in your own hands."
These words were like a warm current flowing into Su Yan's heart.
She nodded vigorously, her eyes slightly red.
At this moment, the other team members in the yard also gathered around.
"Sister Yanzi, you're amazing! We've been keeping an eye on Qian Zhongming for half a month, but you took him down in one fell swoop!" Young Li clapped his hands, his face full of admiration.
"Your marksmanship is excellent, and your tactics are well-planned. You should teach us more in the future," Xiao Zhang said with a smile.
The chorus of praise, like the spring sunshine, dispelled the last trace of gloom in Su Yan's heart.
Looking at the familiar smiling faces, she suddenly realized that she was not alone.
A week later, the weather cleared up.
Su Ling found Su Yan, holding two tickets in her hand: "Take a day off today, I'll take you to visit the City God Temple."
Su Yan was somewhat surprised: "Don't we need to process intelligence?"
"Intelligence is nothing compared to you!" Su Ling said, pulling her hand and smiling. "Come on, Xia and Amei are here too, they're waiting."
The streets near the City God Temple were bustling with people.
At the sugar painting stall, Su Ling bought her a rabbit sugar painting.
In the jewelry shop, Xia picked out a silver hairpin and insisted on putting it on her.
Amei pulled her along to a teahouse in the middle of the lake, where they ordered a pot of Biluochun tea and chatted about girly gossip.
Which brand makes the best cheongsam fabric? Which brand makes the most fragrant pan-fried buns?
The afternoon sun was warm and pleasant as they sat on a bench in the Bund Park, watching the ships come and go on the Huangpu River.
Su Yan held the silver hairpin in her hand. The wind blew through her hair, and she suddenly smiled, her eyes and brows relaxing.
Cai An's presence seemed to fade somewhat amidst this laughter.
Su Ling looked at her and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
Su Yan still needs time, but at least she has taken the first step.
In the distance, Yan Shuo stood behind a plane tree, watching the girls laughing and joking on the bench, a very faint smile curving his lips.
He turned and walked into the shadows at the alley entrance.
Some wounds need to be honed through missions, but even more so through the warmth of companions to slowly heal.
In the alleyways of the Shikumen, an inconspicuous general store leads to a secret room.
Yan Shuo stood in front of a long table, pointing at a black instrument on the table; the screen flickered.
On the corner of the table were a printer, developing solution, photographic paper, and several items wrapped in black cloth. Lifting one corner revealed the muzzle of a miniature silencer.
"Come closer." Yan Shuo's voice was low as he glanced at the three people at the table. "This thing is called an 'image processor.' Not many people outside have seen it. The three of you are the core of the action team. From now on, this 'silent knife' will be used more often than gun barrels."
The three people at the table were Wang An, Su Yan, and Liu Yan.
Wang An is the technical expert of the action team.
Liu Yan is meticulous and is most skilled at forging documents and certificates.
Su Yan stood at the very edge, her gaze fixed on the instrument screen, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
Since Qian Zhongming's mission, her timidity has completely disappeared, replaced by a sharpness tempered by fire.
"Today I'm going to teach you about 'layer overlay'."
Yan Shuo reached out and tapped the instrument screen, where two photos popped up. One was a half-body photo of Zhao Bingjun, the head of the Intelligence Section of the Intelligence Department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Wang Jingwei regime, with the bookshelf in his office in the background.
The other photo is a blurry picture of a meeting at an alleyway. A man in a kimono is handing a roll of paper to someone across from him. The man's face is blurred.
"Zhao Bingjun has the blood of seven of our comrades on his hands. He is extremely vigilant, and his residence is surrounded by Japanese spies. Killing him by force would be a losing proposition."
Yan Shuo's fingertip swept across the screen. "The man in the kimono in this rendezvous photo is an intelligence agent for the Japanese Communist Party. He was just listed as a wanted criminal by the Japanese Special Higher Police last month. What we need to do is to 'embed' Zhao Bingjun into this photo and make him the one who made contact with the Japanese Communists."
Wang An leaned closer, his eyes shining: "Captain, how do you make this thing?"
"First step, cut out the image." Yan Shuo moved the cursor and precisely outlined Zhao Bingjun's silhouette. "Pull him out of the bookshelf background. Pay attention to the lighting and shadows at the edges; there shouldn't be any jagged edges."
As if under a spell, Zhao Bingjun on the screen slowly detached from the original background and floated above the group photo.
"The second step is to match the angle." Yan Shuo adjusted Zhao Bingjun's posture. "The person in the rendezvous photo is turning to the side to hand over something, but Zhao Bingjun's photo is from the front. We need to rotate him 15 degrees, lower his shoulders, and make sure the angle of his arms matches the action of handing over the information."
His fingers flew across the keys, and the image of Zhao Bingjun on the screen gradually overlapped with the pose in the photo, so perfectly that there was no sense of incongruity.
"The most crucial step is to unify the lighting." Yan Shuo opened a color adjustment panel. "Zhao Bingjun's photo is indoor lighting, which is warm; the meet-and-greet photo is overcast lighting at the alley entrance, which is cool. Adjust Zhao Bingjun's skin tone to three degrees cooler, deepen the shadows, and add a layer of dust particles from the alley entrance to his suit. Details determine success or failure."
Liu Yan was so engrossed in looking at it that she couldn't help but whisper in admiration, "If this were washed, who could tell it was fake?"
"It's not over yet." Yan Shuo's lips curled into a cold smile. He clicked on a filter option, "Add a chemical processing effect to make the edges of the photo grayish, the colors faded a bit, and then deliberately add a few small scratches. Our cameras never produce photos this clean."
The photo on the screen has finally taken shape.
On a rainy day at the alley entrance, Zhao Bingjun stood sideways, handing a roll of paper to the man in the kimono. Fine dust clung to his suit, and the edges of the photograph were slightly curled, carrying a mottled sense of bygone days.