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A cold, metallic touch came from his back, accompanied by excruciating pain as if his muscles were being torn apart and a persistent dull ache from the wound on his right leg. Keegan struggled to wake up from the brink of unconsciousness.
He found himself firmly bound to a tilted metal bed, resembling a torture device, by special alloy shackles, his wrists, ankles, and waist tightly locked. Sensors from various vital sign monitors and cold IV tubing were attached to his body. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant, barely masking a faint, nauseatingly sweet, fishy odor—the peculiar smell of large-scale biological experiments.
He immediately realized that he had fallen into the core area of the "clean room". The hatch slid open silently, and a researcher wearing a white sterile coat, with a fanatical yet indifferent look in his eyes, walked in, holding a tablet computer and recording data without any emotion.
“Sample K-7, vital signs are stabilizing, and nerve reflexes are good.” He examined it as if it were an object. “Mr. Makarov has high hopes for you; he will personally conduct your ‘final test’.” After recording, he turned and left without saying anything more.
Keegan silently closed his eyes, conserving every ounce of his strength, while his mind raced, assessing the situation and searching for any possible breakthrough. The shackles were extremely sturdy, and the surrounding surveillance was tight; a forced entry was futile.
After an unknown amount of time, the hatch slid open again. This time, it was Kruger who entered! He was still wearing that familiar tactical gear, stained with the dust and smoke of battle, and his face wore that signature smile that mixed mockery, danger, and a hint of inscrutable emotion.
His green eyes, illuminated by the cold lights of the isolation pod, appeared particularly vicious and unfathomable. He strolled leisurely to the metal bed, scrutinizing Keegan from head to toe as if admiring a trophy. "Tsk tsk tsk..." he sneered. "Look who this is? The once invincible Keegan Russ, the Ghost Squad's sharpest blade, now nailed here like a piece of meat. Fate is truly ironic, isn't it?"
Keegan opened his eyes, and the cold, gray-blue pupils locked onto him without a trace of emotion, as if looking at an insignificant object.
“Don’t be so cold, old friend,” Kruger sneered. “You’re Mr. Makarov’s specially requested ‘VIP.’ You and your clever little girlfriend have dug too deep. But, coincidentally… Mr. Makarov is very interested in the ‘Ghost’s’ combat methods. Perhaps we can… make a deal? Trade what’s in your head for a quick death?” He paused, then maliciously added, “Or, trade it for your little girlfriend to live a few more days?”
Keegan's pupils contracted slightly, but his face remained expressionless.
Kruger seemed to enjoy the silence. He leaned down, close to Keegan's ear, and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear, his tone tinged with schadenfreude: "Makarov is really 'fond' of you. The fact that the sample leak in the cleanroom didn't immediately affect you is a huge discovery! He insists on personally returning to the Ark to prepare a... 'worthy' farewell ceremony for you. This kind of pointless personal heroism is such a waste of my time." As he complained, his eyes quickly swept over Keegan's handcuffed right wrist.
Suddenly, Kruger seemed to notice something. He reached out and roughly grabbed Keegan's handcuffed right wrist, examining the wounds caused by the previous struggle and the friction of the shackles. "Hey, be careful not to get the 'sample' dirty," he shouted, as if speaking to someone behind the monitor. At the same time, his fingertips subtly and rapidly pressed rhythmically on the inside of Keegan's wrist—a short Morse code! 【A… R… K】(Ark)
Keegan's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, but his face remained expressionless, though a sharp glint flashed deep in his eyes.
Kruger released his grip, straightened up, and his voice returned to normal, tinged with sarcasm: "Enjoy this last bit of lucidity, Legend. He'll want to see you break down." He turned and walked towards the door, but stopped just before reaching it, as if suddenly remembering something. Turning his back to Keegan, he muttered to himself, "...What a pain. I still have to make sure the biometric lock on the 'Eden' master unit is intact until he gets back. That access conflict almost destroyed the entire core serum bank last time. Those idiots..."
The hatch closed. A deathly silence returned to the isolation chamber. Keegan slowly raised his handcuffed right hand, his gaze falling on the inside of his wrist where Kruger had just pressed. Kruger wasn't humiliating him; he was using this extremely covert method to transmit intelligence! Why was he helping him?
A few days later, Keegan looked worse; he was pale and his lips were cracked from dehydration and medication, but the sharp light in the depths of his grey-blue eyes never went out.
Kruger arrived again. This time, he toyed with a small dagger, its blade gleaming coldly in the light. "Still putting on a brave face?" he chuckled, lightly tapping the alloy shackles binding Keegan with the tip of the blade, producing a crisp sound. "It's no use. Makarov will arrive at the 'Ark' tomorrow night. He's prepared a 'grand farewell party' for you on the 'sea'."
As he spoke, he seemingly casually used the tip of his dagger to lightly and quickly carve an 'A' on the metal edge of the bed next to Keegan. After finishing, he casually wiped it away with his fingertip; the mark was faint, but clear enough for Keegan, who was standing right next to him.
“Cherish this time,” Kruger sheathed his dagger, sneering. “The lock on ‘Eden’ has been ‘fixed.’ You won’t like the ‘ultimate surprise’ inside.” He emphasized the word “fixed” almost imperceptibly, with a hint of sarcasm, as if implying that this was not the case.
After Kruger left, Keegan knew he had to get the message out immediately. But all his equipment had been confiscated; how could he contact anyone? He recalled Kruger's two touches on his right wrist. He carefully examined the wound on his wrist and the inside of the shackles, finding nothing unusual. Had Kruger simply communicated through contact without leaving any tools behind?
Just as he was pondering, the lights in the isolation chamber suddenly flickered extremely faintly and rhythmically a few times, at a very rapid frequency, almost imperceptible. It was Morse code! [Opportunity… Monitoring… Loop… 10 seconds… Wrist… Transmit…]
Keegan understood instantly! Kruger had not only transmitted the message but also used his privileges to create an extremely short communication window for him, implying that the communication device was on his wrist! He immediately focused his attention on his right wrist and finally felt a tiny bump, about the size of a grain of rice, almost indistinguishable from the touch of skin, in the fold of the old scar! It was a bio-patch emergency transmitter! Kruger must have secretly attached it when he checked the wound earlier!
When the lights flashed briefly and rhythmically again, Keegan immediately used the fingers of his still slightly mobile right hand to precisely press the miniature transmitter, compressing the information Kruger had transmitted and his own assessment of urgency into the shortest possible Morse code, and explosively sending it out: 【Ark A Island Tomorrow Evening. Eden. Biometric Lock. Urgent.】 After sending the signal, he immediately rubbed his wrist vigorously with his fingers, rubbing the miniature transmitter away and swallowing it.
Almost simultaneously, the lights returned to normal, and the monitoring loop ended.
Inside the border safe house, Elaine was overwhelmed by the massive amount of data, on the verge of a mental breakdown. Suddenly, a faint, fleeting signal came from an extremely obscure emergency frequency receiver she had been waiting for, the one she had arranged with Keegan! It was Morse code!
“Keegan!” Elaine jumped up from her chair, tears welling up instantly, but she quickly suppressed them with an overwhelming sense of urgency. He was alive! He had sent back a message! The Ark, Island A, tomorrow night, Eden, the bio-lock! She frantically rushed to the control panel, combining all the previous clues, and quickly pinpointed the most likely “Island A”—Akrotiri! A private island with abandoned military facilities!
“Hesh! Logan!” she shouted, her voice hoarse but filled with determination. “We’ve found him! Target: The Ark, Akrotiri Island! Makarov will arrive tomorrow night! We must act before him! The core area is Eden, and the biometric locks may have a vulnerability! This is our only chance!” The pressure of hope and the countdown burned like ice and fire simultaneously on everyone. The ultimate operation to rescue Keegan and stop “Harvest Day” had to begin amidst extreme disadvantage and urgency.
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