Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

Twenty minutes later, Reza appeared at the door of the ward.

His deputy, Ali, followed behind him.

"Are you sure he hasn't contacted anyone?"

"no."

Ali looked solemn.

My previous thoughts became even more firm.

"My men were outside the door the whole time, and their every move was under our surveillance."

"I'm also following what's happening in the ward. Unless the initial quote was too low, there's nothing else of substance to it."

"And there's even less communication."

"but……"

Ali paused for a moment.

"That kid's asking for a pretty high price."

"His expenses are only $100,000, but he's asking us for $500,000!"

"We can't even track the flow of funds?"

Reza finally realized how serious the situation was.

"Cannot be found."

Alibaba is somewhat defeated.

"The money seems to have vanished into thin air. There are records of fund transfers, but no information is available about who the money was transferred to."

Looking through the window at Zhang Jian sitting next to Karimi inside the room, Reza felt a sense of helplessness welling up inside him.

Could this guy really be someone sent from over there...?

If that's the case, then what is their purpose?

His chaotic thoughts shattered his originally clear train of thought, but the matter still needed to be done.

I took a deep breath to calm my agitated heart and pushed open the door to go inside.

inside the house.

The door was pushed open.

Zhang Jian and Karimi looked toward the doorway.

Reza led Ali in with great strides.

Zhang Jian curled his lip.

He knew that there must be Reza's men outside the ward.

He couldn't find it, but that didn't stop him from spreading the word.

"Mr. Zhang, is everything ready?"

Reza walked directly up to Zhang Jian.

Zhang Jian took out a folded A4 sheet of paper from his pocket and waved it in his hand.

"It's all here."

Reza reached out his hand.

Zhang Jian handed over the paper.

The lights in the ward weren't bright, but they were enough to make out the words on the wall.

Reza's eyes quickly scanned the information on the paper.

The more I looked, the more alarmed I became; the more I looked, the more rapid my breathing became.

How did he manage to do that?!

There were no phone calls, no data transmissions, and everyone who had been in contact with him has been taken into custody!

Even the toilets were thoroughly inspected by his men.

Everyone who had been to the restroom was screened.

No suspicious objects were found.

It's fair to say that his surveillance team, despite monitoring him for so long, couldn't figure out how this Chinese person obtained the intelligence.

There wasn't even the slightest clue.

Reza's face twitched.

I looked down at the paper in my hand again.

Twelve targets, with coordinates accurate to six decimal places and strike times accurate to the second.

The entry angle and altitude of the penetration route, and the weapon model details down to the sub-model number.

Even the pilot's call sign was written on it.

The pilot's call sign.

Even if you moved the servers of the US Central Command over, it would still take time to find this kind of thing.

Could a Chinese shopkeeper who runs a general store really get these things?

He can't really be...

Reza couldn't help but think of what Ali had said in the car earlier.

My hand unconsciously clenched the paper.

He looked at Zhang Jian again.

Zhang Jian sat on a stool, one hand on his lap and the other on his cane, in a relaxed posture.

"Finished watching?"

Reza did not answer immediately.

He refolded the A4 sheets of paper and stuffed them into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Mr. Zhang."

"Um."

"If even one word in this intelligence is false..."

Reza took a step forward, bowed slightly, and his face was almost touching Zhang Jian's.

"You should know what your fate will be."

Zhang Jian looked up at him.

"Major, you've already spent half a million US dollars, why don't you inspect the goods first before making threats?"

Reza stared at him for three seconds, snorted coldly, turned around and strode out of the ward.

"Oh, right."

Just as he was about to leave the house, Zhang Jian's voice rang out again.

"This price is a friendly price. Remember to bring enough money next time you need it."

Reza clenched his fists tightly, the coldness in his eyes barely concealed.

But in the end, I held back.

Without replying, they left.

Ali followed closely behind and closed the door behind him.

The Alborz Mountains, north of Tehran.

Iran's air defense command.

When Reza Bagheri relayed the intelligence, the duty officer almost thought he was joking.

"Reza".

He pressed the intercom button, his tone tinged with helplessness.

"What did you send me?"

"The U.S. military's complete air strike plan for the entire Tehran area tomorrow."

The duty officer rubbed his red eyes.

"Reza, I'm busy, I don't have time to joke with you."

"You know better than I do that several areas of Tehran have been bombed!"

Even the leader...

His voice was low and filled with sorrow.

"I know you're eager to make a name for yourself, but this thing can't possibly be real at first glance!"

"Tell me the truth, where did this thing come from?"

Reza paused for a moment.

"The source is being verified, but its authenticity is in doubt."

"However, given that the content involves a significant battlefield situation, I believe it is necessary to report it immediately."

He did not mention Zhang Jian's name.

He wasn't sure about this either.

"Report immediately?"

The duty officer was so angry he laughed.

"Reza, you're really getting more and more like you're back to your old self."

"Take a look at what's written on it!"

"The targets, the batches, the course, the missile signals, even the damn pilot call signs!"

"If this were true, the U.S. Air Force Command would be riddled with infiltration!"

Reza sat in the SUV on the west side of the hospital.

He didn't believe it either, but Zhang Jian's rescue of the 47th Air Defense Battalion was right in front of him.

He had no choice but to believe it.

What's more, he's already spent half a million US dollars.

This money was secretly allocated to him without his knowledge.

He is now completely bound to Zhang Jian!

If the intelligence is true, he can easily gain recognition and a promotion and raise will follow without a doubt.

If the intelligence is false, he won't get away with it, and that kid won't live either!

"That's my job. You just need to pass on the information."

Reza's face was grim, his heart pounding wildly.

But I still decided to take the gamble.

"Hand it over?"

The duty officer was furious.

"Do you know what will happen to us tonight if the generals accept this intelligence?"

"The air defense system needs to be readjusted, troops need to be redeployed, and high-ranking officials need to be relocated. Do you know how many people this will alarm?"

"That's still better than being blown up!"

Reza's tone rose a few decibels.

"Also, you're just a duty officer, your only responsibility is to pass on intelligence!"

"Judging the authenticity of intelligence is a matter for those above; it's not your place to question me!"

"Fine, fine, let's see how you explain yourself then!"

Fifteen minutes later.

The operations conference room of the air defense headquarters was brightly lit.

The three generals were woken from their sleep.

On the table was intelligence printed out by the duty officer.

On the projection screen next to it was an enlarged version of the intelligence report.

The twelve targets have been marked with a red marker and are spread across a 200-kilometer radius around Tehran.

Port Abbas, Isfahan, Tehran International Airport, Birjand Radar Station...

Brigadier General Mohsen Rezai stood in front of the map board.

He crossed his arms and stared at the red circles for a full two minutes.

"Who sent this intelligence?"

"Major Reza Bagheri of the Revolutionary Guard's Intelligence and Security Department."

The staff officer replied.

He didn't say the source, only that he was verifying it.

"They dare to send me intelligence from unknown sources?"

Mosen turned his head away.

"When did Reza become so bold?"

Brigadier General Fahri, sitting at the other end of the long table, picked up the intelligence report on the table and pushed up his glasses.

"Mosen, don't panic."

Fahri turned to the second page.

"Take a look at this first."

"A four-aircraft F-35A formation entered the country from the Persian Gulf direction, with a penetration altitude of 8,000 meters and an entry angle of 217 degrees."

"These kinds of details can't be made up casually."

"Does the inability to fabricate something mean it's true?"

Mosen snorted.

"The more detailed the explanation, the more suspicious it is!"

"You served in the military for thirty years, and you don't know what information poisoning is?"

"Look, look."

"The pilot's call signs are even out: Viper, Eagle, Ghost."

"The call signs of all three formations have been identified. When did our intelligence agencies become capable of this?"

"If they truly had that capability, why was the American bombing so delayed yesterday?"

Fahri remained silent.

The third general, Major General Jawad, head of the Air Defense Operations Department, sat in a chair flipping through a copy in his hand.

"07:15:33".

Jawad spoke.

"The attacks on Bandar Abbas and Isfahan were timed simultaneously, both at 7:15:33."

"Launching from two directions simultaneously is a standard multi-axis strike tactic."

"So what?"

Mosen looked at him.

"The tactical logic makes sense."

Jawad put the paper down.

"If I were an operations staff officer at U.S. Central Command, and the goal was to suppress Iran's air defense system simultaneously, I would also choose Bandar Abbas and Isfahan as the targets for the first wave of simultaneous strikes."

"One in the south and one in the middle, they've torn our air defense network apart from the middle."

"Then the second wave will target the military runway at Tehran airport, crippling our fighter jets' ability to take off."

"The time interval is six minutes and forty-two seconds, which is just enough for the electronic warfare suppression effect of the first wave to cover the second wave entering the penetration route."

Mosen frowned.

"You mean you believe in this stuff?"

"I didn't say I believed it."

Jawad leaned back in his chair.

"What I'm saying is that the tactical logic of this plan is self-consistent."

"If it's a forgery, the person who created it probably has a better understanding of the U.S. military's operational system than 90% of the analysts in our intelligence department."

"That makes it even more suspicious!"

Mosen slammed his hand on the table.

"It's precisely because it's so perfect that it feels like an elaborate trap!"

"Think about it, the Americans attacked us once and know that we were at a disadvantage in intelligence. Now they release a 'perfect intelligence' report and are just waiting for us to deploy our troops according to it."

"And the result?"

"We deployed all our air defense forces to these twelve points, leaving the areas he actually wanted to attack undefended!"

"A feint to the east while attacking in the west, luring the enemy into a trap!"

Fahri took off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Mosen, your reasoning makes sense."

"But have you considered that if this intelligence is true, we might not make any deployment adjustments simply because we don't believe it..."

"At 7:15 tomorrow, so many targets will be bombed at the same time."

"Our air defense network has been breached, and the protective umbrella over Tehran is gone."

The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.

Jawad glanced at Mosen, then turned to look at the duty officer beside him.

"Who is the source?"

The staff officer shook his head.

"Major Reza did not disclose further details."

"Give me his contact information."

Jawad tapped his fingers twice on the table.

"I want to ask him in person."