Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

Chapter 1184 To Save or Not to Save?

For the next two days, the intelligence agents at the Military Intelligence Bureau's Beiping station were like springs wound to their limit, without even a moment to catch their breath.

They moved through the shadows of Beiping's streets and alleys, piecing together fragmented information and verifying it repeatedly. Each secret report carried a chilling aura and was swiftly delivered to hidden strongholds.

Chen Gongshu had not slept all night. He sat blankly behind the pear wood table in the secret room of "Rongbaozhai", enveloped in a thick silence.

The map of Beiping spread out on the table had been repeatedly rubbed by fingertips until the edges were frayed and curled, and even the edges were worn with fine paper lint. Three dots were heavily circled in red pencil at key intersections, the red marks penetrating the back of the paper, like marks branded on the heart.

The sheets of paper next to the map were neatly arranged, with the route map marked with dense street and alley numbers and names. Next to each person's name, the weapon type and division of labor were neatly noted. The weapon list was categorized by rifles, pistols, grenades, and ammunition, with clear entries.

The dim light from the roof beams cast long shadows, making his furrowed brows appear even more prominent.

The blood vessels under his eyes spread like a dense spider web, winding from the outer corner of his eyes toward his pupils. Even his jawline was taut like a fully drawn bowstring, and every inch of his muscles exuded an unyielding tension.

The four o'clock bells drifted faintly from the distant church, deep and resonant. Just as they passed through the wooden door of the secret room, the heavy wooden door was gently pushed open a crack.

Zhao Guangyuan entered with a bow, carrying an enamel teacup. His footsteps were as light as a cat stepping on a soft cushion, and he even suppressed his breathing to the extreme, for fear of disturbing the oppressive atmosphere in the room.

The white steam rising from the rim of the teacup vanished in an instant in the cold air, leaving only a faint trail of mist in the dim light.

"Station Chief Chen, take a break. This tea is freshly brewed, Qimen black, it'll warm you up." His voice was extremely low, almost escaping from his throat. He put down the teacup gently, the porcelain surface hitting the wooden table with only a barely audible sound.

Chen Gongshu didn't look up, his gaze fixed on the four characters "Coal Slag Alley" on the map, but his words betrayed his anxiety: "Any new news from Coal Slag Alley?"

His voice was hoarse and dry, as if it had been repeatedly rubbed by coarse sandpaper, carrying the stagnation of not speaking all night, with an imperceptible tremor in the end of his voice.

Since Beiping was occupied by the Japanese army, the Beiping Station has gone underground and operated covertly. However, the informants they have developed over the years have already infiltrated all walks of life, from street vendors to hospital doctors, and are everywhere.

Dai Li was able to learn of Liu Geqing's arrest immediately and even find out his specific situation thanks to one of the doctors who had infiltrated a Japanese-controlled hospital. This doctor was an informant developed by the Military Intelligence Bureau in its early years and was the only hope to convey Liu Geqing's current situation at this moment.

Zhao Guangyuan pushed the teacup to the corner of the table. As soon as his fingertips touched the cool pear wood tabletop, he quickly pulled them back into his sleeves and rubbed them repeatedly to dispel the chill.

His face was filled with undisguised sorrow and helplessness. His lips moved, but it turned into a heavy sigh. The white breath he exhaled blurred his eyebrows and eyes, and was quickly swallowed up by the surrounding cold air.

"I just received a note from Dr. Chen. The handwriting is so messy that it's almost illegible. It must have been written in a hurry... Liu Geqing, I'm afraid she won't be able to hold on much longer."

He paused, his voice hoarse, each word sounding like it weighed a ton. "The Japanese brought out all the torture instruments they could find: the tiger bench, chili water, and red-hot branding irons, one after another. He gritted his teeth and didn't utter a single word, but his body had already been completely worn down by the torture."

The note also stated that after Liu Geqing's legs were broken, he was attacked by vicious dogs and can no longer even sit up. His left eye was blinded by a bamboo skewer, the empty socket oozing blood, and he is barely clinging to life.

Chen Gongshu's fingers suddenly clenched the pencil in his hand, the pencil barrel cracking and digging deep into the lines of his palm. His knuckles turned white instantly, and even the veins on the back of his hand throbbed as if they were about to break.

With a sharp "snap," the pencil broke in half, the lead falling forcefully onto the map, leaving a glaring black mark next to the four characters "Meizha Hutong," like a ripped wound in the heart, shocking to the eye.

He slowly raised his eyes, his eyes churning with overwhelming rage and excruciating pain. The blood vessels in his eyes grew even thicker, yet he forced himself to suppress his emotions with incredible self-control. His Adam's apple bobbed violently a few times, as if a thousand words were stuck in his throat, but in the end, only a deathly silence remained.

Zhao Guangyuan stared at his tense profile, which, under the dim light, had sharp, cold lines but couldn't hide the subtle trembling. He hesitated for a moment, his fingertips repeatedly rubbing his cuff, before finally asking the heavy question.

"To save or not to save?"

These two words were like two red-hot stones, crashing heavily into the silence of the sealed room, making one's eardrums ring and one's heart race.

To rescue them meant forcing their way into the heavily guarded Coal Slag Alley by the Japanese army—what a price they would have to pay!

Wang Kemin is still waiting to eliminate the traitors!

To not rescue them would be to watch helplessly as our sworn brothers bleed to death at the hands of the Japanese army, a situation that is unbearable both in our hearts and in our sense of duty.

At this time, the Military Intelligence Bureau had not yet entered the later stage of rapid expansion and bloated system, and naturally there was no such chaotic situation of mixed quality.

Compared to the later situation where it absorbed people from all sides and became a mixed bag, the Military Intelligence Bureau during this period could be described as an elite force that concentrated the best of the military.

Every member is handpicked from the elite units across the entire army. They must not only possess outstanding military skills and keen reconnaissance capabilities, but also pass rigorous loyalty tests at every level in order to be selected.

Its scale was far smaller than it became later, and its members were highly concentrated with strong core cohesion, far surpassing the later structures of tens of thousands of people with intertwined factions.

This is why the circle is relatively pure. Anyone who has made some achievements, even if they have never met, has already spread their name among their comrades. They can all tell each other about each other's achievements and demeanor.

There is a tacit understanding that "seeing is believing, and seeing is even better than hearing."

For local station leaders like Chen Gongshu and Zhao Guangyuan, the brothers of the Military Intelligence Bureau were comrades-in-arms who could be entrusted with each other in dangerous situations and share life and death in desperate circumstances. Their friendship was pure and profound.

This bond stands in stark contrast to the later factional infighting, power struggles, backstabbing, and despicable practices within the Military Intelligence Bureau, which were characterized by self-interest and petty corruption.

Chen Gongshu slowly closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him.

The room was eerily quiet, except for the two of them breathing, the faint crackling of the oil lamp, and the increasingly clear sound of his own heartbeat.

Dai Li's words "try your best to save" sounded light and casual, but in Beiping behind enemy lines, they understood the weight behind those words better than anyone else.

Forcing their way into the military police station in Meizha Hutong now would be tantamount to prematurely exposing the entire action team, which would greatly affect the assassination attempt against Wang Kemin.

But if we don't save him, and someone like Liu Geqing who has made contributions is abandoned, what will the other brothers in the Military Intelligence Bureau think, and what will they think of Director-General Liu?

After an unknown amount of time, Chen Gongshu suddenly opened his eyes, all the struggle in his eyes had faded, leaving only a resolute look.