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The Ghost Squad, carrying virus samples and exhausted, quietly returned to the small safe house nestled in the folds of the mountains. It was less a base and more a fully equipped, reinforced outpost, compact in space and devoid of unnecessary facilities. The price of successfully bringing back the intelligence was the severe mental and physical exhaustion of everyone; the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and the silence that followed the tension.
There was no dedicated medical room, let alone a resident doctor. A simple first-aid kit and medical supplies were all they had. Elaine, who knew a little about bandaging, was the busiest person at this moment. She opened the first-aid kit and began treating the team members' wounds.
Hesh had a noticeable abrasion on his left cheek, which she carefully disinfected with iodine; Logan's right arm was stiff, possibly a muscle strain or minor sprain, so she applied pain-relieving ointment and bandaged it; Konig silently extended his hand, his knuckles were badly cut in several places, and she carefully cleaned the wounds, applied medicine, and bandaged them. Even Ghost, who was usually as steadfast as a rock, sat in the corner, tending to a deep cut on his arm himself.
Elaine finally walked up to Keegan. He was sitting on an ammunition box, his eyes closed, but his body remained in a vigilant posture. She saw the thin, clotted wound on his forehead, caused by shrapnel, as well as the ripped marks on the shoulders and back of his combat uniform from the blast wave, and the faint bluish-purple hues visible beneath.
She used a cotton swab soaked in antidote to gently wipe his wound. The cool touch made his eyelids twitch slightly, but he didn't open them. After treating his forehead, she hesitated for a moment, then whispered, "Does your shoulder... need some treatment?"
Keegan opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over her worried face behind his goggles. He replied briefly, "No need. The bruises are nothing." His voice was unusually hoarse from exhaustion.
Elaine didn't insist. She silently packed up the medicine, but she knew in her heart that he was too close to the explosion point and that the impact would definitely not be pleasant.
For the next two days, the outpost entered a mode of both rest and high alert. The space was cramped, and the team members were practically bumping into each other. Exhaustion was etched on everyone's faces, but training and patrols continued, albeit at a reduced intensity.
During this time, Elaine, with Price's authorization, collaborated with back-end technical support via encrypted channels to conduct in-depth analysis of the brought-back virus samples and tracker data. The results were astonishing. The viral gene sequence revealed that it was a chimeric virus prototype with targeted genetic marker attack characteristics, and its attack targets were highly correlated with the genetic characteristics of certain specific populations. This technically confirmed that the "purification protocol's" goal of societal division was not just empty talk.
More importantly, the extremely brief encrypted signal deciphered from the tracker pointed to a coordinate—a long-abandoned Soviet-era biological weapons research institute deep in the Siberian wilderness. The signal content was incomplete, but it mentioned keywords such as "mass production preparation" and "deployment test."
This means that the "purification protocol" may be about to move from the testing phase to the actual deployment phase. Almost simultaneously, Konig, responsible for base security, discovered an extremely subtle, unauthorized signal snooping trace during a routine check of the peripheral sensor logs. The method was extremely sophisticated, almost erasing all traces, but it was undeniably present. This was a dangerous sign, indicating that the base may have been exposed, or at least attracted the keen interest of some technologically advanced forces.
The new intelligence hit everyone like a bucket of ice water. The enemy, far from retreating after their setback at the Black Sea, had accelerated their advance and might already be at their doorstep. The situation was urgent, and Price immediately convened a briefing. The atmosphere was so tense it was almost palpable.
Price pointed to the coordinates in Siberia on the map: "This could be the 'Purification Protocol' virus production base. We must destroy it before they're ready, or the consequences will be dire."
Ghost's voice, cold and firm, came through the mask: "But it's no longer safe here. We must evacuate immediately." It was a dilemma. Dividing forces would weaken them, but allowing the virus to proliferate unchecked and waiting to be surrounded were both dead ends.
Elaine quickly sifted through the information and offered her analysis: "The Siberian mission is urgent and requires an elite team. However, the enemy is currently only detecting signals and may not be certain of our exact location, number of personnel, or status. We can exploit this information gap." She pointed to the base layout map: "Cap and Logan will be in charge. After the main force leaves, they will initiate the base's self-destruct procedure and proceed to the designated backup rendezvous point. This will create the illusion that we have all evacuated, attracting the enemy's attention and buying time and covert cover for the main force's operation. The main force will then secretly head to Siberia, exploiting the time and information gap."
Ghost nodded: "I agree. The Siberian mission requires speed and extreme stealth, so a small, elite squad is the best choice."
Keegan didn't speak, but looked directly at Elaine, his meaning clear—the mission required her technical support.
“Alright.” Price finally made the decision, his voice resolute. “That’s how it will be. Ghost, Keegan, you two will lead the Siberian mission. Hesh, Konig, the Doctor will accompany you. Logan and I will cover the rear and handle the relocation. We’ll split up in an hour.”
The order was given, and the base immediately sprang into action. Keegan and Ghost began selecting equipment, inspecting weapons, and planning a preliminary infiltration route. Elaine, meanwhile, busily organized all the electronic data on the Siberian Institute, including geological, meteorological, and historical structural drawings, and prepared portable analysis equipment.
Before setting off, Keegan handed Elaine a heavy backpack: "Your snow gear is already the smallest size." His voice remained concise.
Elaine returned to the cramped compartment, opened her backpack, and found a specially made white snow camouflage combat suit and thermal underwear, as well as a small pistol with an emergency distress signal. She quickly changed into the snowsuit, only to find that the size was obviously too big—the shoulder seams sagged, and the cuffs and pant legs needed to be rolled up several times to avoid hindering her movement. Although it was the smallest size they could find in the base, her petite frame made her feel like she was walking around wrapped in a blanket.
She looked at her somewhat bulky and clumsy reflection in the mirror and sighed helplessly. When she emerged wearing the obviously ill-fitting snowsuit, Ghost paused for a moment without saying anything, then picked up his gear bag and headed for the door. Hesh couldn't help but stop and grin, teasing, "Doctor, you look a bit like a kid wearing adult clothes."
Keegan's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his eyes hidden by his goggles. He said nothing, simply walked over and silently rolled up her overly long sleeves twice more, securing them with Velcro to ensure they wouldn't come loose and affect her movements.
His movements were focused and swift, with an undeniable meticulousness. "Stay close to me," he whispered, his tone commanding yet carrying a subtle hint of caution, "No matter what happens."
"Understood." Elaine nodded, tightened her oversized collar, and let out a soft breath, feeling inexplicably nervous.
Outside, the snowmobile's engine growled. Ghost was already in the driver's seat. Everyone quickly got into the vehicle. Price and Logan stood at the base entrance and nodded to them. Without much farewell, the vehicle silently glided into the vast night and snowstorm, speeding towards the extreme cold and unknown dangers of Siberia.
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