Song Heping's breathing was particularly heavy under the night vision goggles.
He quickly stripped the tactical vest off the corpse, put it on himself, and then pulled down the hood to cover his face.
The enemy's MP5 submachine gun was still warm. He checked the magazine—there were more than twenty bullets left.
Enough.
The footsteps outside were getting closer.
"Dave, is that you?" A deep male voice sounded outside the door.
"Cough cough cough—it's me, I'm injured..."
Song Heping deliberately lowered his voice, making it sound as if he were seriously injured.
"Is he dead?" the person outside asked loudly.
Song Heping lowered his voice, mimicking an American accent: "Yes, confirmed kill!"
"Damn, we finally got him."
Another voice cursed and approached.
Song Heping's muscles tensed, his fingers gently resting on the trigger.
The door was pushed open, and two "Watcher" team members entered with their guns raised.
"Bam! Bam!"
Song Heping's MP5 fired almost point-blank at their heads. The bullets instantly tore through their skulls, and before they could even scream, the two "Watcher" members fell heavily to the ground.
Song Heping quickly scavenged their ammunition and communication equipment, then whispered into his earpiece: "Target confirmed dead, retrieving intelligence."
A burst of static came through the earpiece, followed by a calm response: "Received, standby on site, support is on the way."
—They took the bait.
Song Heping sneered and quickly slipped out of the back window, disappearing into the shadows of the fish market.
Inside the surveillance van, Jasper's pupils suddenly constricted.
He saw everything through the helmet cameras of the two dead "Watcher" members.
"Goddamn it!" Jasper slammed the console: "He's not dead! He's disguising as one of us!"
He immediately grabbed the communicator and switched to the backup channel: "All units, attention! The target is disguised as our personnel, immediately switch to the backup channel, change enemy identification light! Repeat, immediately change enemy identification light!"
Seconds later, "Watcher" members in the fish market turned on the blue indicator lights on their tactical vests — this was their temporary identification marker.
"He's still within the perimeter." Jasper stared at the screen, gritting his teeth: "He can't escape..."
He turned and yelled at the driver: "Drive! Go to Port Area 3!"
"Boss, you're going in personally?" a technician asked in surprise.
"Yes." Jasper coldly drew his gun, "I want to kill him with my own hands."
The driver had no choice but to turn the vehicle around and speed towards Dock 3.
A few minutes later, the car stopped in the woods outside the dock area.
"Simon, you stay here to manage communication and intelligence support, I'm going in myself!"
"OK, no problem."
After Jasper left with his men, Simon slowly stood up from his seat.
"I'm going for a smoke."
He said casually to the remaining technicians.
Nobody stopped him.
Simon walked out of the surveillance vehicle, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and then pulled out an encrypted satellite phone from his pocket.
He quickly input a string of codes and then pressed the send button.
—Message delivered.
About ten seconds later, in a shop inside the fish market, Song Heping who was hiding in a corner while thinking about which direction to break through, felt his satellite phone vibrate.
He hurriedly took a look, and the screen displayed a short message:
"There's a gap at the east side of Shop 37, blue indicator light, backup channel , maximum exit window of 3 minutes."
Song Heping squinted his eyes.
It seems Simon was quite useful.
He quickly adjusted his direction, moving towards Shop 37 on the east side of the fish market.
The east side of the fish market was a section of abandoned warehouses, the entrance to the sewer was half-covered by a pile of rusty containers.
Song Heping moved along the wall, alertly scanning his surroundings.
Indeed, there were no enemies here, but the sewer entrance was sealed with iron bars.
He crouched down and took a thin metal wire from his tactical belt, inserting it into the lock and fiddling gently.