A covert contest (Part 1)
At six o'clock in the afternoon, the gray outline gradually appeared on the horizon, and the deep, long sound of the ship's horn came from afar; it was the last ship to arrive at the port.
Mr. Zhao, dressed like a scholar, checked the time on his watch. The ship would dock in a quarter of an hour. He held his briefcase tightly, which contained important items for the meeting, and dared not let his guard down.
Meanwhile, Comrade Yingqi, who had escorted him to the meeting, was sitting not far away, pretending to admire the scenery outside the window, which made Mr. Zhao feel a little more at ease.
However, before boarding the ship, Comrade Yingqi had reminded himself to pretend not to know him, and not to recognize him even if he encountered a comrade he knew, so as to avoid being inspected by secret agents who would occasionally appear on the train.
As if on cue, two secret agents at the stern grabbed the crew member by the shoulders and made him check each passenger's destination.
This is second-class business class, and there are many business travelers and family members of mid- to high-ranking officials. Mr. Zhao was certain that the spies wouldn't dare to act openly. However, Yingqi glanced at the spies, and a hint of unease was faintly revealed in his eyes.
Yingqi put on a baseball cap and silently got up to go to the toilet. Perhaps because they were about to arrive at the port, everyone was in a hurry to clean themselves, and a long queue formed in front of the toilet. Yingqi didn't care about anything and pushed his way forward, looking like he was going to cut in line.
After being threatened by the tall, strong passenger in front of him, he sheepishly returned to the back of the queue. But it wasn't over yet. With his hands in his pockets, Yingqi whistled listlessly.
This offended all the passengers in front and behind him who were already in a hurry to urinate. Someone reminded him to stop whistling, but Yingqi continued to do as he pleased, and even arrogantly asked himself which law he had broken by whistling. He said if he really couldn't hold it in, he should just pee in his pants.
Yingqi's poor manners drew criticism from the surrounding passengers, with one even grabbing him by the collar and threatening to punch him. Mr. Zhao was worried for Yingqi, as organizational regulations required all business travelers to keep a low profile, and Yingqi's actions were contrary to these rules, which might lead to trouble.
The chaos in front of the toilet was too much for the flight attendant to ignore. He stopped checking tickets and hurriedly pulled the passengers who were about to fight apart. After understanding the situation, he took Yingqi to the work cabin for a talk.
Without the flight attendants, the little spies could only scan the passengers with fierce eyes. Mr. Zhao calmly turned to the window to distract himself. This was not the first time he had faced spies directly, and the calmer he appeared, the safer he felt.
A short while later, Yingqi was released by the flight attendant. He reluctantly shook hands with the passenger who had threatened to beat him up and made peace. The flight attendant advised him to reconcile, saying that it was just a minor conflict and that it could be resolved by talking it out.
After watching the excitement, some people began to pack their belongings, while the train conductor continued checking tickets. Mr. Zhao wiped the fog off his glasses and decided to go to the restroom to relieve his tension.
But when Mr. Zhao was in line, Yingqi, who had just come out of the restroom, deliberately bumped into him, almost knocking his glasses off. Yingqi was cursing, "Old man, don't you have eyes? Get out of my way."
Given Yingqi's previous poor manners, few people noticed and paid much attention. Only Mr. Zhao knew that the child had slipped a note into his hand earlier...
After the large ship docked, the passengers disembarked in an orderly fashion with their luggage. The lighthouse light, accompanied by the soaring seagulls, began to turn gently, and the sound of the waves lapping against the bedrock gradually weakened, as if it were getting a little tired.
A customer eating wontons on the street twirled the gold ring on his finger, and the cigarette vendor next to him immediately understood. He then shouted loudly and headed towards the bustling drop-off point.
At the same time, several vendors and pedestrians with strange expressions were also gathering around the entrance.
The spies have been lying in ambush at the dock for three days and two nights. Ever since they destroyed the Communist Party's liaison point at the Hankou dock, the vicious dogs have been waiting in ambush. Today, they are determined to wipe out the Communist Party members on the ship.
All the middle-aged men who came from Shanghai to Hankou were marked. The vicious dogs bared their sharp teeth, but they didn't immediately attack their targets; they wanted to play the long game.
The agents worked in pairs, following the trail at a leisurely pace behind their target. Their goal was not only to capture the person, but also to find out about other contact points of the Communist Party.
Unfortunately, no good news has come in yet, so today's wait has probably been in vain again.
The biting wind blew against his face, and the leading agent shivered. Just as he was about to leave the wonton stall, a middle-aged man in a long robe and glasses slowly disembarked from the boat. He only got off the boat after everyone else had left. Something was wrong.
The middle-aged man sniffed his frostbitten nose, wrapped his scarf tighter, quickened his pace toward the wonton stall, and ordered a bowl of wontons as well.
Although the man tried his best to conceal it, he kept glancing around warily. It was clear that he was very unfamiliar with Hankou. The briefcase he was holding seemed very important; he wouldn't even put it down while eating, keeping it tightly in his arms.
The lead agent winked at the junior agent who was keeping watch, and the junior agent immediately went to gather more colleagues.
A short while later, a young waiter sat down opposite the middle-aged man. The two exchanged a few pleasantries, seemingly not very familiar with each other. However, the man wiped his mouth and left with the waiter before finishing his meal.
They must have made contact. The lead agent personally led a team behind the two men, while the younger guy, probably a local, led the man through the alleys, trying to shake them off.
However, he was not one to be trifled with. He followed them to a general store, where the middle-aged man rushed in with his briefcase. After exchanging pleasantries with the owner for a while, he was led into the back room.
Right now, the agent leading the team whistled, and instantly dozens of agents armed with Type 38 rifles rushed into the grocery store, pinning the shop owner and the middle-aged man who were making a transaction to the ground.
The agent leading the team picked up the middle-aged man's briefcase, which was full of furniture promotional leaflets and sales contracts. Even after shaking all the contents of the bag onto the ground, there were only personal items such as pens and silver dollars.
"Boss, I...I...I'm just a salesman here to sign a sales contract. This is my first time in Wuhan, I don't know anything about this," the middle-aged man said, his voice trembling with tears, his accent thick with Jiangnan dialect.
"This is the first time the gentleman has come to Wuhan, so the boss asked me to show him the way," the waiter said with a bitter face.
"Really, really, I just had their company order a shipping container for me, I didn't break the law!" the grocery store owner chimed in, clutching his head.
The crowd had surrounded the general store, pointing and whispering at the spies inside. The leader of the group threw his briefcase away, thinking, "Damn it, where did the Communist Party go?"
An hour ago, the streets next to the dock were still bustling with people. The boatmen, their skin tanned dark, received their wages and left the dock in groups, their faces beaming with joy.
Mr. Zhao brushed past the boatmen, not daring to look around, only wanting to leave the dock, this place of trouble, as quickly as possible.
Earlier, Comrade Yingqi had slipped him a note. After closing the toilet door, Mr. Zhao quickly unfolded the note in his hand—a newly printed train ticket. The destination on the ticket had changed to "Jiujiang." He knew that this meant Yingqi wanted him to get off one stop early.
Even though the two changed their destination at the last minute, Yingqi's behavior on the ship was still too eye-catching. As soon as Comrade Yingqi left the cabin, he was spotted. In order to draw away those henchmen, he left alone in the opposite direction.
Every time Mr. Zhao sees those young people leaving alone, he feels heartbroken. What wonderful kids they are! He hopes they can all come back and not leave like the last kid, never to return.
Meanwhile, at Nanjing Pukou Station, Mr. Meng was almost dozing off while waiting for the train. Mrs. Meng thoughtfully helped him put a scarf around his neck. They had traveled all the way from Ruijin by land, enduring the hardships of travel, but dared not stop. In an unfamiliar city where they knew no one, their top priority was to get on the train as soon as possible.
The two men, dressed in fur coats, were clearly a wealthy gentleman and lady on an outing. Nanjing was a stronghold for spies, but as the capital, it also had its share of high-society figures. These spies were notorious for bullying the weak and fearing the strong, so disguising themselves as wealthy was the safest course of action.
They originally thought that once they arrived in the city, they could make contact with the comrades at the local transportation station. However, unexpectedly, several spies appeared halfway to the rendezvous point, forcing the couple to abandon their mission and instead find a fancy hotel to rest, thus temporarily avoiding the risks.
Without a local guide, their situation would have been more dangerous. Fortunately, the couple rented a car and arrived at Pukou Station without encountering any particular problems.
The waning moon behind the clouds, like a chipped sickle, cast a few pale rays of light onto the station. Mrs. Meng glanced at her pocket watch, her worry deepening. The train, which was supposed to depart at 7:45, was still late; it was probably delayed.
"Don't worry, the train will come," Mr. Meng said, patting his wife's hand to comfort her.
"I'll go ask the platform again when the train is coming," Mrs. Meng insisted on going to the platform to inquire, ignoring her husband's advice.
The stone platform trembled slightly as the two pulled on each other, and the train whistle, its mournful sound cracking from the cold, finally arrived. Even though the train was late, it had come after all.
The green train seemed to cut the station in two like a pair of giant scissors. Perhaps because it was a night train, there were only the two of them in the entire carriage. Mr. Meng and Mrs. Meng sat in the carriage and smiled at each other.
After a short pause, the train began to shudder rhythmically, and the two of them breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs. Meng leaned gently on her husband's shoulder, glanced at her pocket watch one last time, and sleepiness gradually crept into her mind.
squeak--
The pocket watch was thrown away by the enormous inertia. Mrs. Meng opened her eyes abruptly, only to find her poor pocket watch already under the foot of a young man in white, armed with a gun.
Mrs. Meng instinctively grabbed her husband's hand. It was obvious that the train's forced stop was largely due to the man in white, and the fact that he could stand firm despite such a huge inertia suggested he was a trained fighter.
"Reporting to Captain Chen, the emergency braking device has been engaged."
Captain Shen nodded to indicate that he understood, and then, under Mrs. Meng's gaze, he bent down to pick up the pocket watch, wiped it on his clothes, and returned it to Mrs. Meng with a smile.
As the saying goes, it's better to hear a little devil cry than laugh, because a laughing little devil is more ferocious. Perhaps seeing that the Meng couple were frozen in their seats, Captain Chen put away his pistol as a sign of goodwill and handed the pocket watch to Mrs. Meng again.
Mrs. Meng didn't dare to speak. She wasn't from Sichuan and couldn't speak the Sichuan dialect, but according to the information on their marriage documents, they should both be from Sichuan.
"Thank you, son." Mr. Meng reacted quickly, taking the pocket watch from his wife's hands. Captain Chen also smiled politely.
Just as Mr. Meng was about to touch the pocket watch, Captain Chen suddenly grabbed two vital points on his wrist and looked him up and down as if studying something: "Sir, you used to be a soldier?"
Mrs. Meng's heart pounded, worried about her husband's safety and concerned about the man's methods.
Mr. Meng calmly replied, "You have a good eye. I am not very talented, but I once served as a staff officer under General Liu Chengxun."
Captain Shen's eyes flashed with a hint of contempt: "The Sichuan Army, huh? It's a pity that after your Commander Liu stepped down, he was all devoured by Commander Liu Xiang. It seems that Liu Xiang's current chief of staff is none other than Wu, Liu Chengxun's former adjutant?"
In response to Captain Shen's probing, Mr. Meng replied with a smile, "How would I, a mere junior staff officer, know any Deputy Officer Wu? I only remember that our commander has a Deputy Officer Wang, and his family has already arranged a marriage for me. So I retired from the army to go into business; being a soldier isn't comfortable. Sir, could you give me the watch?"
Since Mr. Meng remained completely calm, Captain Chen politely returned the pocket watch to him and checked their identification documents. Finding nothing amiss, he said, "Mr. Meng, do you have a cigarette? I'm craving one, but I was in a rush and forgot to bring it."
Mr. Meng searched his body for a while but found nothing. He apologized, saying that he had just finished his cigarette. Captain Shen didn't say anything more and sat down in the empty seat next to the couple, closing his eyes to rest.
Every second in the carriage felt infinitely long. With a time bomb lurking beside her, Mrs. Meng couldn't sleep at all. But Mr. Meng held her firmly, patting her gently as if to comfort her.
Perhaps her husband's performance had deceived the enemy, but they could not afford to be complacent. She whispered to her husband that they should retreat, but to prevent being overheard, she wrote the last two words, "retreat," on her husband's palm. Mr. Meng immediately grasped her hand and wrote the word "agree."
"Hey, stop messing around. I don't know when I'll be driving either." Mr. Meng's face was full of impatience. "If the car isn't going to drive, what can I do? Be a good boy/girl."
Upon hearing the sound, Captain Shen opened his eyes a crack. Mrs. Meng, after confirming the enemy's movements through the reflection in the car window, immediately cooperated with her husband's performance, tugging at his hair and fur hat. She was a typical feisty woman from Sichuan. In fact, she had never argued with her husband before, but now she had no choice but to play along.
Captain Chen seemed unwilling to get involved in the couple's conflict and closed his eyes, which suited the couple just as well. As they were about to leave the carriage, they were stopped by the secret agents at the door.
Before the G party was found, no one was allowed to leave the carriage. Mrs. Meng glanced out of the carriage and saw that there was a secret agent guarding almost every five or six doors. Even if you climbed out of the train through the toilet, you were too close and it was only a matter of time before you were caught.
The two reluctantly returned to their original carriage. Mr. Meng did not immediately go back to his seat, but lingered and walked over to Captain Chen, forcing a smile as he asked, "Sir, when will the train be able to depart?"
Captain Shen opened his eyes and said seriously, "I don't know either. You'll have to ask the Communist Party members in this car. They'll only leave when they show themselves."
“Hey, what’s with the party? If we go home late, the kids will be crying and screaming because they can’t find their mother. The elderly can’t take it. Could you let my wife go outside and make a phone call?” Mr. Meng said cautiously.
Mrs. Meng immediately understood her husband's intention. They were surrounded, and every chance they could get out was a chance. She shook her head violently and uttered her first Sichuan dialect phrase: "I'm scared."
“What’s there to be afraid of! Captain Shen, please do me a favor. My wife just needs to make a phone call. She’s easily scared, and it’s pitch black outside. Have one of your men accompany her.” Mr. Meng said, stuffing a bag of silver dollars into Captain Shen’s pocket.
Mrs. Meng's mind went blank, her nose tingled, and tears streamed down her face like broken pearls.
Captain Shen glanced up and carefully observed Mrs. Meng's expression, then tossed the silver dollar back to Mr. Meng and gave the order to the agent at the door: "No need. I can't stand seeing a woman cry. You, go with Mrs. Meng to the duty room to make a phone call."
"Thank you so much, Captain Chen, you're such a good person." Mr. Meng thanked him profusely, then turned and waved to his wife, "Hurry up and go!"
Although Captain Shen only agreed to let her go to the train duty room, she would have a chance to escape once she left the train's area. But if she ran away, her husband would be exposed immediately.
She reluctantly held onto her husband, knowing this parting would be forever. Encouraged by him, she turned and stepped onto the cold platform. The biting wind didn't feel cold; perhaps the heartache overwhelmed all her senses.
Through the glass window, Mrs. Meng saw that there was only one female ticket seller in the duty room, who warmly welcomed Mrs. Meng.
However, when she learned that she was borrowing the phone, she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, there's no food in winter, and the outside phone line has been chewed up by rats. The only phone that works now is the one inside the station. Otherwise, I would have to go outside the station and find a phone booth."
The black-clad agent weighed the pros and cons and nodded, telling Mrs. Meng to go to the inner room to make a phone call. He figured a woman couldn't cause any trouble.
"Boss, you don't need to stand outside anymore. It's windy at night. Let me get you a cup of hot water." The duty officer smiled and invited the black-clad agent into the duty room.
The spy didn't notice the strange smile on the face of the duty officer as he closed the door.
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