Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Chapter 1199 Stop that car!

According to the pre-arranged schedule, the motorcade will first arrive at the Beiping Hotel for a short rest, while waiting for Wang Kemin to report on the follow-up preparations for the ceremony.

Zhou Zhengqing took a deep breath, trying to suppress the turmoil in his heart, and asked in a deep voice to Shan Guzhengshu in the front driver's seat, "How much longer until we reach the Beiping Hotel?"

Upon hearing this, Masaki Yamaya immediately straightened his back, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, and said respectfully and calmly, "General, there are still two kilometers to go."

Zhou Zhengqing nodded slightly, his gaze turning back to the car window. His eyes were drawn to the corners of the streets and alleys, the chimneys on the rooftops, and any other corners that might be hiding danger.

My nerves were getting more and more tense, my temples were throbbing, and all the muscles in my body were involuntarily tensing up, as if a fatal danger would suddenly erupt at any moment.

He himself couldn't explain when this keen sense of danger had arisen, as he had never felt such a strong urge before.

At this moment, a deep-seated unease gripped my heart like vines, tightening ever more tightly—an experience unlike any I'd ever had before.

Just as the convoy was about to cross an intersection, Zhou Zhengqing suddenly caught an unusual sight on the street to his left out of the corner of his eye. In a quiet alley outside the police line in the distance, a dilapidated car suddenly broke through the shadows and rushed out like a lurking beast!

It was an old-fashioned postal vehicle, its paint peeling off and revealing rusted metal underneath. The post office seal on the front of the vehicle was curled and yellowed, clearly having been torn repeatedly, giving it an eerie and incongruous feel.

The engine roared like a wild beast on the verge of desperation, pushing the revs to their limit. The wheels swerved violently on the cobblestone road, the rubber screeching against the ground with a piercing screech, and sparks flew out along the tire tracks.

With a desperate, all-or-nothing momentum, the vehicle abruptly changed direction and charged straight toward them!

"Holy crap! There really is an attack!" Zhou Zhengqing blurted out, his heart leaping into his throat, a chill running down his spine to the top of his head.

The Japanese soldiers and special agents on guard outside the street reacted very quickly, raising their guns and aiming almost the instant the postal truck sped out of the alley.

Seeing the postal vehicle speeding up and heading straight for the heart of the convoy, they immediately pulled the trigger, and a barrage of bullets rained down, slamming into the postal vehicle.

The clanging of metal echoed incessantly as car windows shattered instantly, shards flying like ice crystals. The car was quickly riddled with bullet holes, the muffled thuds of bullets piercing the body faintly audible.

But the postal vehicle was like a wild horse, showing no signs of slowing down. The driver was clearly determined to die with the enemy, ignoring the hail of bullets around him, and only caring about charging towards the core convoy.

The military police at the intersection quickly surrounded the center, forming a multi-layered fire network with their rifles, escalating their firepower in an attempt to stop the postal truck from approaching with a barrage of bullets.

Bullets whistled through the vehicle, and muffled impacts and groans came from inside. But the vehicle's speed did not decrease, and it broke through the first line of defense set up by the Japanese army. The wheels rolled over the scattered bullet casings, making a screeching sound as it got closer and closer to the core convoy.

"Quick! Reverse! Protect the General and His Excellency Terauchi with all your might!" A heart-wrenching roar came from outside the car, the voice filled with anxiety.

Without a moment's hesitation, Masaki Yamaya swerved the steering wheel sharply and slammed on the brakes. The black sedan lurched backward like a runaway top, its tires rubbing against the road and sending long sparks flying. A sharp whistling sound pierced the streets.

The people in the carriage were suddenly pulled forward by the powerful inertia. Zhou Zhengqing subconsciously reached out and grabbed the back of the seat in front of him to keep his balance. His fingertips turned white from the force.

The face of Terauchi Hisaichi, standing beside him, instantly turned from rosy to deathly pale. His previous calm and composed demeanor vanished. He gripped the armrests of the chair tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning blue. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes furrowed, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes.

But he still maintained his general's dignity and shouted to Zhou Zhengqing, "Tuoren, don't panic! We have enough troops, there's no way he can break through!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Terauchi Hisaichi abruptly rolled down the car window, leaned out, and shouted, "Smash that car immediately! Stop it at all costs!"

Zhou Zhengqing did not respond. His gaze was fixed on the speeding postal truck like a nail. His mind was racing, a mixture of doubt and panic making him uneasy.

Damn it! How could the target be our own convoy? Could they have mistaken it for something else?!

With so many military police and Japanese protection on our side, what fool could possibly admit a mistake!

Logically, the Kuomintang's assassination target should have been Wang Kemin, who was following in the convoy. As the core figure of the puppet regime, assassinating him would have been the most effective way to shake the foundations of the regime.

Could it be because he was traveling with Terauchi Hisaichi, and assassinating the two of them would shock the Japanese high command and create a greater sensation?

However, charging head-on like this would be tantamount to courting death. Even if there were assassins hiding in the car, they would eventually be riddled with bullets by the military police.

This illogical behavior intensified Zhou Zhengqing's unease.

At this moment, the postal vehicle had broken through the two layers of security lines set up by the Japanese army and was less than 100 meters away from the core convoy. Zhou Zhengqing could even clearly see the figure in the driver's seat. It was a young but exceptionally resolute face, with the bangs on his forehead disheveled by the wind and blood spurting from his mouth.

I wonder how many shots he took...

But there was no fear in his eyes, only a resolute determination to die. His gaze was fixed on the car where Zhou Zhengqing was, and he pressed the accelerator to the floor, sending the car rushing towards him like an arrow.

Zhou Zhengqing felt a sudden jolt in his heart, and a bone-chilling cold instantly arose from the bottom of his heart, spreading along his spine to his whole body, making his limbs numb.

A terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in my mind, exploding like a thunderclap.

Could it be... could it be that the car wasn't carrying an assassin, but a bomb?

It was a suicide bombing!

"Damn it! So many people are firing, why hasn't it exploded yet? In TV dramas, it always explodes after just a few shots!" Zhou Zhengqing cursed inwardly, filled with absurdity and panic.

He was merely an “observer” of the puppet regime’s establishment ceremony, so how did he become the primary target of the attack?

Your target should clearly be that traitor Wang Kemin!

He instinctively wanted to scream to warn everyone that there was a bomb in the car, but his throat felt like it was blocked, and he couldn't make a sound.

The next moment, a sidecar motorcycle with a light machine gun mounted on it burst out from the side alley, its exhaust pipe billowing thick black smoke and its engine roaring to its maximum speed.

"Protect the general!"

"Onboard!"

The three military policemen on the motorcycle roared, their voices filled with a desperate resolve, as their machine guns spat out blinding flames and rammed into the postal vehicle.

The two trucks ahead, filled with military police, also swerved sharply, their wheels screeching against the ground as they lurched violently as they turned around, attempting to block the postal trucks and the main convoy to form the last line of defense.

"Stop that vehicle! We must not let it get close to the general!" came the shouts of the military police from the truck.