Hidden Radiance

"Kenzo Yamamoto," the paper kite said quickly, "a major in the Japanese Army's Accounting Department, and director of the Noborito Research Institute. He brought half a ton of special ink, as well as the latest anti-counterfeiting parameters. He'll be traveling by sea and will arrive at the Shiliupu Wharf tomorrow evening."

Lu Minghui gripped the receiver.

"What was the Military Intelligence Bureau's reaction?"

"Wang Yixin ordered that Yamamoto Kenzo be intercepted and killed at the dock at all costs, and that the ink be destroyed." Paper Hawk took a breath. "I don't have access to the specific plan, I only know that Mao Sen is in charge."

"Understood. Cut off all contact and remain silent for three days."

Lu Minghui hung up the phone.

Gu Yunqiu stood in front of the desk, looking at him.

"Zhou Fohai was assassinated in Nanjing." Lu Minghui looked up. "The special ink will arrive in Shanghai tomorrow evening. The escort is Yamamoto Kenzo from the Noborito Research Institute. The Military Intelligence Bureau is preparing to take action at the dock."

"The Shiliupu Wharf was a key area of ​​Japanese defense," Gu Yunqiu said. "To charge it head-on would be suicide."

"That's not something we can handle." Lu Minghui stood up. "What we need to handle now is Song Qingyuan."

He walked to the window and looked down at the noisy printing workshop below.

"What should we do with the first three on the list?" Gu Yunqiu asked.

"Sun Yaozu has already made the arrangements." Lu Minghui turned around. "These three are sleazy; they usually steal waste paper and scraps from the warehouse to sell. Sun Yaozu leaked the information, saying that there's a batch of scrapped German-imported bearings in Workshop Two tonight. They can be exchanged for ten gold bars on the black market."

Gu Yunqiu glanced at him.

"You want Song Qingyuan to catch them in the act?"

"Stealing isn't a capital offense." Lu Minghui picked up his coat and put it on. "Section Chief Nakajima wants the mole who was responsible for the stolen steel molds."

He buttoned up his shirt and patted his left pocket. The outline of a brown paper package bulged out of the pocket.

"Let's go to the workshop and see our technical consultant."

into the night.

Searchlights swept back and forth across the Chengda Company compound.

The second workshop was dimly lit, with only a few emergency lights on. The machines were stopped, and the air was thick with the smell of machine oil.

Lu Minghui led Song Qingyuan into the workshop.

The sound of their footsteps mingled with the echo of water dripping from the tin roof.

Lu Minghui took the brown paper package out of his pocket and squatted down next to the waste bin.

The bearing is pressed at the bottom.

He stuffed the paper package under the bearing, with the seal facing upwards and half of it sticking out.

He stood up and dusted off his hands.

"Go upstairs and wait." Lu Minghui glanced at Song Qingyuan. "After he comes in, don't rush. Wait until he touches something before you move. Hit his legs, but not vital organs. These three will be useful later."

Song Qingyuan adjusted his glasses but didn't ask what was in the paper package.

He turned and walked up the iron staircase, disappearing into the shadows of the second-floor corridor.

Lu Minghui walked out of the workshop.

The white light of the searchlight swept over him from behind, casting a long shadow that trailed on the ground before disappearing in an instant.

Half an hour later.

Three dark figures slipped into the workshop along the wall.

The tall, thin man at the head of the group was named Zhang Mazi. He was first on the list.

"Quick, the bearing is under the scrap bin," Zhang Mazi whispered, calling to the two men behind him.

The three of them reached the waste bin and lifted the tattered cloth covering it.

Zhang Mazi reached in and touched the cold metal cylinder—a bearing.

He pulled it out.

Underneath the bearing was a kraft paper package. The package was unsealed, revealing two detonators and half a piece of yellow explosive.

Zhang Mazi's hand froze there.

The person behind him gasped, his foot scraped the ground, and his knee slammed into the metal of the scrap bin.

With a loud bang.

The searchlights on the second floor were not on.

"Go! Go quickly!" Zhang Mazi suddenly pulled his hand back and turned to rush towards the side door.

Three steps.

Click.

The searchlights on the workshop ceiling suddenly blazed on.

The bright light blinded the three of them.

Song Qingyuan, dressed in a long gown, stood on the iron corridor on the second floor. He held a Browning pistol in his hand, the muzzle pointing downwards.

"It's the middle of the night, and the three of you are in high spirits." Song Qingyuan pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.

Zhang Mazi squinted and reached for the dagger at his waist.

boom!

Song Qingyuan fired. The bullet pierced Zhang Mazi's right thigh from the outside, without hitting the bone.

Zhang Mazi groaned and fell to his left, his elbow hitting the concrete ground.

The other two turned and ran.

boom!boom!

Both men were shot in the calves and lay on the ground groaning in pain.

The workshop door was kicked open.

Sun Yaozu led the special operations team in and pressed the gun barrels down on the people on the ground.

"Advisor Song has excellent marksmanship," Sun Yaozu said as he stepped forward.

Song Qingyuan walked down the iron stairs and put the gun back in his waistband.

"These three people sneaked into the workshop suspiciously, and I suspected they had ulterior motives."

Sun Yaozu waved.

The two team members turned Zhang Mazi over and searched his body.

The kraft paper package at the bottom of the waste bin was pulled out. Zhang Mazi's right hand was covered in yellow explosive powder.

"Military Intelligence Bureau explosives!" Sun Yaozu grabbed Zhang Mazi by the hair. "You three have some nerve! Daring to blow up Chengda Company's printing presses!"

"It wasn't me! I just came to steal the bearings!" Zhang Mazi shook his head frantically. "These aren't mine!"

Sun Yaozu kicked him.

Half an hour later.

The general manager's office is on the third floor.

Lu Minghui sat behind his desk. Song Qingyuan and Sun Yaozu stood in front of the desk.

On the table was the bag of explosives and three statements with fingerprints on them.

"Chief, they've confessed everything." Sun Yaozu pointed to the confession. "Zhang Mazi and the other two were the outer agents of the Military Intelligence Bureau. On the night the steel mold was stolen, they were on the outskirts keeping watch for the main culprits and passing on spare keys. Tonight they tried to blow up the printing press, but were caught red-handed by Advisor Song."

Lu Minghui picked up the statement and glanced at it.

The confessions were meticulously prepared. The time, place, and contact person were all fabricated by Sun Yaozu beforehand. Three men had holes pierced in their legs and were tortured for half an hour—what couldn't they admit to?

"Advisor Song." He put down his statement and looked at Song Qingyuan. "You have done a great service."

Song Qingyuan lowered his head slightly.

"Thanks to Director Lu's guidance."

"These three men attempted to sabotage the Empire's strategic facilities, a crime that cannot be forgiven." Lu Minghui signed his name on the statement.

The pen stopped on the last page.

He looked up and glanced at Sun Yaozu.

"Follow the rules."

Sun Yaozu took the statement.

"clear."

He turned and went out, closing the door behind him.

Only Lu Minghui and Song Qingyuan remained in the office.

Song Qingyuan pulled out a chair, sat down, and poured himself a cup of tea.

"We can report back to Sakata and Nakajima now."

Lu Minghui swept the explosives into the drawer.

"You saved the navy's printing press, so Sakata will consider you a confidant. Nakajima saw the mole brought to justice, and the investigation is over. Your name has been completely erased from the suspect list."

"What about the other three?" Song Qingyuan asked, holding his teacup but not drinking.

"Hand it over to Paper Kite." Lu Minghui's voice was low. "The execution will be carried out by the Special Operations Team of Project Shan. Apart from Captain Sun Yaozu and Instructor Yamashita, the entire Special Operations Team is my man. Change the bullets in the guns to blanks, and tie the blood bags inside the clothes. The execution site will be on the outskirts of Longhua. Afterwards, pick them up and send them to Chongqing."

He paused for a moment.

"The leg injury can be treated in Chongqing."

Song Qingyuan took a sip of tea.

"I'm told to stay here." Song Qingyuan placed the cup on the corner of the table.

Lu Minghui looked at him.

"Stay put. You're more professional than me when it comes to issuing and printing banknotes."

He pushed the teapot on the table aside.

"Tomorrow evening, Kenzo Yamamoto of the Noborito Research Institute will arrive at the Shiliupu Wharf. He's bringing half a ton of special ink. The Military Intelligence Bureau plans to ambush him at the wharf."

Song Qingyuan's fingers, which were resting on the rim of the cup, tensed slightly.

"You stay put in the workshop," Lu Minghui said, resting his arms on the handrail. "Go back. There's another tough battle ahead tomorrow."

The following morning.

Mei Agency, Advisor's Office.

Shinichi Nakajima reviewed the review report submitted by Minghui Lu.

"The outer perimeter of the Military Intelligence Bureau?" Nakajima looked at the photo in the report.

"Yes, sir." Lu Minghui stood at attention. "These three had been lurking in Chengda for a long time. They participated in the outer perimeter support on the night the steel mold was stolen. Last night, they attempted to blow up the printing press but were subdued on the spot by technical consultant Song Qingyuan. After interrogation, they were executed according to regulations."

Nakajima turned back to the first page of the report.

His gaze lingered on the photo for two seconds before he looked up and swept it across Lu Minghui's face.

"The screening is complete." Nakajima closed the report. "Song Qingyuan has made a contribution; he will receive a bonus. Chengda has fully resumed operations."

He picked up the red pencil on the table and drew a circle on the report cover.

"Minghui".

Lu Minghui didn't move.

"Keep using Song Qingyuan," Nakajima said, putting down his pencil. "Use him until he's completely unusable."

Lu Minghui lowered his head.

"it is good."

On the same afternoon.

Naval Club.

After listening to his subordinate's report, Sakata downed his drink in one gulp.

"Song Qingyuan did a good job." He slammed his wine glass down. "Nakajima was trying to get rid of me by screening people, but he ended up turning the tables for me."

Muneo Inoue sat to the side, holding his wine glass but not drinking.

"Lu Minghui's report is very well presented." Inoue Muneo glanced at Sakata. "However, things that are too good to be true should be read a couple more times."

He put down his wine glass.

"Where does Song Qingyuan rank on the list you provided to Lu Minghui?"

Sakata paused for a moment.

"eighth."

"Eighth," Inoue Muneo repeated, "neither forward nor backward. Just on the safety line."

He picked up his wine glass and took a small sip.

"Send someone to Chengda and give Song Qingyuan a thousand silver dollars. Tell him that the navy does not mistreat its own people."

Muneo Inoue put down his cup and tapped his finger twice on the table.

"Let someone touch it while they're at it, to see where Song Qingyuan got his Browning. According to regulations, Chinese employees of Chengda are not allowed to carry firearms."

Sakata glanced at him, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Chengda Company, second floor, finance office.

Gu Yunqiu looked at the neatly arranged thousand silver dollars on the table.

Song Qingyuan stood to the side, picked up a silver coin, flicked it, and tossed it back onto the table.

Lu Minghui sat behind his desk, not looking at the silver dollars.

"Enter the tent."

Gu Yunqiu picked up the ledger and made the entries.

Five o'clock in the evening.

Shiliupu Wharf.

The river water lapped against the concrete embankment. Three Japanese patrol boats cruised back and forth on the river. Guards stood every three steps and sentries every five steps on the dock. Marines had set up a long cordon.

A cargo ship flying the Japanese flag slowly docked.

The steam whistle blared.

Major Ishihara stood on the pier. Behind him were two covered military trucks.

The rooftop of an abandoned warehouse outside the dock.

Six dark figures loomed behind the parapet. The sniper pulled the bolt of his Mauser sniper rifle, chambering a round.

The gangway was lowered.

A man in a gray suit and a bowler hat descended the gangway. He carried a black briefcase and was followed by four fully armed soldiers.

Kenzo Yamamoto.

Major Ishihara stepped forward, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Mr. Yamamoto, you must be tired from your journey."

Kenzo Yamamoto pulled down his hat brim and glanced around at the vigilant guards.

"Major Ishihara," Kenzo Yamamoto said, "the ink is in the hold. Load it onto the truck immediately."

Ishihara waved. A squad of military police rushed onto the cargo ship.

On the rooftop, the crosshairs in the scope pressed against the back of Kenzo Yamamoto's gray suit. The shooter's index finger rested on the trigger guard.

Mao Sen's absolute order: the ink must never enter the city.

On the pier.

Military police carried heavy wooden crates down the gangway. The crates were then loaded into military trucks.

Major Ishihara stood aside checking the list.

He glanced at the markings on the outside of the wooden crate.

The hand stopped.

On the side of one of the wooden crates, in addition to the black serial number of the Noborito Research Institute, there was also a tiny red skull logo.

On the rooftop, the archer's index finger slid from the guard into the trigger bow.

Ishihara suddenly turned to look at Kenzo Yamamoto.

"Mr. Yamamoto," Ishihara pointed to the sign, "what is this?"

Kenzo Yamamoto glanced at it. He didn't answer.

He switched the combination lock from his right hand to his left.

"Have your men step back twenty paces."

Ishihara was taken aback.

Kenzo Yamamoto's gaze left no room for negotiation.

Ishihara waved. The military police retreated.

There were only two people left on the pier.

A river breeze blew in, causing the front of Kenzo Yamamoto's suit jacket to roll up.

"Didn't Advisor Nakajima tell you?" Kenzo Yamamoto lowered his eyes, looking at the red skull logo. "This time, it's not just ink that's being shipped."

He looked up at the hazy city skyline in the distance. The skyline was jagged by factory chimneys.

"There are several boxes containing something far more valuable than ink and gold."

Kenzo Yamamoto loosened the handle of the briefcase. His hand hung back at his side.

He pulled a pair of white rubber gloves from his suit's inner pocket and slowly put them on. He spread them out one finger at a time, pulling them up to the base of his wrist.

Ishihara stared at the gloves.

The river breeze on the dock suddenly turned fishy.