Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Andrew looked at the scorpion and gently pushed the report off the table. The movement was subtle, but as the report slid across the surface, everyone's eyes followed it.

Scorpion reached out and pressed down on the report, glanced down at the "Top Secret" label on the cover, and looked up: "When do we make our move?"

Andrew leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers twice more on the table.

But what about time?

Where?

How do I start?

What method?

He hasn't thought about these things yet.

The Northerner is no ordinary man; he can single-handedly destroy all the triads in Hong Kong and move freely within American military bases.

This kind of person cannot be dealt with in the conventional way.

He stood up, walked to the huge map of Hong Kong Island on the wall, turned his back to everyone, pointed his finger at the location of Yau Ma Tei, and drew down Temple Street, stopping at a small building marked "Golden Princess".

"His territory is in Temple Street. His establishment is also in Temple Street. His men are also in Temple Street. But you should not go to Temple Street."

He turned around and looked at the scorpion.

His younger sister attends primary school at Ford School. School ends at 4:30 pm every day.

What a brilliant move.

My sister, my only family.

Once they catch her, the Northerner is like a snake whose vital point has been pinched; no matter how venomous he is, he can't bite anyone.

The scorpion's eyes lit up, like a flash of lightning in the darkness.

He took a step forward, stood in front of the map, and looked down at the location of Fuk Tak School—Yau Ma Tei, Gascoigne Road, not far from Temple Street, and not far from Golden Princess.

There are hospitals, police stations, and schools nearby, and the area has a large flow of people, making it convenient for movement and evacuation.

If the kidnapping is carried out in a crowded place, during the time when students are leaving school, it will be difficult to be detected by blending into the crowd.

"Stationmaster, I have a plan."

Andrew looked at him and waited.

Scorpion drew a circle on the map with his finger, starting from the entrance of Fuk Tak School, heading south along Gascoigne Road, turning into a narrow alley, crossing two streets, and finally stopping at the entrance of an underground parking lot on Jordan Road.

"This is her daily route home from school. After leaving the school, she walks south along Gascoigne Road for 300 meters and then turns into this alley. The alley is narrow, lined with old buildings, and there are no security cameras. The alley's exit leads to Jordan Road, where there is heavy traffic, making it easy to evacuate. We carried out our operation in the alley."

He paused briefly at the alleyway.

"It takes about two minutes to go from entering to exiting this alley. In those two minutes, as long as we can control her, we can retreat."

Andrew looked at the map, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.

He had walked the road in front of Fude School. Gascoigne Road was crowded with cars and people, making it difficult to take action.

But this alley—narrow, lined with old buildings, and with most windows closed—was indeed the best place to take action.

His hand paused for a moment, then he nodded: "Okay. But there's one condition."

The scorpion looked at him.

Andrew turned around, walked to the window, his back to everyone, and looked at the gray sky outside.

A moment later, he turned around and looked at the scorpion, his gray-blue eyes appearing particularly cold under the stark fluorescent light.

"We can't let her die. She's only useful if she's alive."

The scorpion nodded: "Understood."

"Blake, you're in charge of intelligence gathering. Find out her daily routine, what time she arrives at school, what time she leaves school, whether she has extracurricular activities, and whether she goes to tutoring classes on weekends."

A white man sitting on the far left nodded.

Black, nicknamed Black Scorpion.

He was tall and thin, with a thick beard and black-rimmed glasses.

He was in charge of intelligence and communications, worked at the CIA for over a decade, and was engaged in intelligence analysis. He was very familiar with the situation in Hong Kong.

"Martin, you're in charge of logistics. Prepare two cars with fake license plates, one for kidnapping and one for bringing up the rear. The cars should be ordinary, and the colors shouldn't be too conspicuous."

Martin, nicknamed Scorpion.

Sitting next to Blake was a short, stout man with a round face who smiled like a Buddha, but his small eyes gleamed with shrewdness.

He was in charge of logistical support; there was nothing he couldn't get his hands on, from vehicles and weapons to fake documents.

"Paul, you're in charge of the evacuation. From the alley to Jordan Road, it's two minutes. From Jordan Road to the Eastern Harbour Crossing, it's fifteen minutes. From the Eastern Harbour Crossing to the New Territories, it's thirty minutes. There should be contingency plans at every intersection along the way."

Paul, nicknamed Scorpion.

He was strong and muscular, wearing a black T-shirt that revealed his two arms covered in tattoos.

He was responsible for assaults and evacuations, and had served in the special forces for many years. Driving and urban warfare were his strengths.

"David, you're in charge of perimeter security. Keep watch at both ends of the alley, near the school gate, and at the Jordan Road exit. Warn the police in advance if they're coming, and give advance warning if the Yankees are coming."

David, nicknamed Red Scorpion, has dark skin and a shaved head.

He was the only Black man in the team and had fought in Africa and the Middle East, where he was responsible for fire support and perimeter security.

"Eva, you're in charge of the target. Get close to her, control her, and don't let her get hurt."

Eva, nicknamed Mother Scorpion, is the only woman in the team. She is in her early thirties, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She is not particularly beautiful, but she is not bad-looking either. If she were to walk down the street in casual clothes, no one would give her a second glance.

She was responsible for getting close to the target—approaching them under the pretext of asking for directions, handing out flyers, or asking for help, and then taking action when the target was completely unprepared.

She did this in the Middle East, in Europe, and in North Africa, and it always went smoothly.

The scorpion looked at them and stood up.

"We'll take action at 2 PM on Tuesday."

The six people stood up and filed out, their footsteps fading into the distance in the corridor.

Andrew stood by the window, his back to the people, looking at the gray sky outside.

I don't know when, but a black dot appeared in that gray sky.

It was an eagle, gliding through the air currents, wings outstretched, motionless, like a black cross nailed to the sky. Andrew looked at the eagle.

"Northeaster, your sister's in our hands. How much longer can you keep this up?"

Princess Jin, third-floor office.

Skinny Monkey spoke up: "Brother Big Steel, after we took over Snake King Can's territory, we're a bit short-handed in Temple Street. Should we hire some more people?"

The brothers who came with him from the mainland are good at fighting and killing, but there aren't many of them. They're enough to keep an eye on Golden Princess, New World, and the few places on the east side of Temple Street.

Now Snake King Chan's chicken stall, gambling stall, and noodle stall all belong to him, and he doesn't have enough manpower.

But he doesn't want to hire new people, not because he can't, but because he's afraid to.

He looked up at Skinny Monkey: "Recruit people from the mainland, Skinny Monkey, go back and bring them over, preferably former soldiers."