Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

early morning.

The wooden door to the basement of the grocery store was kicked open with a bang.

Farhad, his hair a complete mess, burst in, phone in hand.

"Boss, something terrible has happened! An American plane has been shot down!"

Farhad shoved the screen right in front of Zhang Jian's eyes, his excitement barely contained.

"Are you really going to take it down?"

Zhang Jian paused for a moment, then turned to look.

The screen was already filled with bolded news headlines.

Shocking! US F-16DJ twin-aircraft formation suffers defeat in Tehran!

Stealth Infiltration Turns into a Joke? The Pentagon Experiences Its Darkest Night in History!

He immediately became much more sober.

He took the phone and quickly swiped his fingers.

Twitter and several major military forums have completely exploded.

At least half of the top ten trending topics were about airstrikes!

The comments section below was already divided into two opposing camps, arguing fiercely.

"Absolutely fake news! Iran's pile of junk could shoot down an F-16DJ? What a joke!"

"Stop defending yourself, the person upstairs has already posted their coordinates."

"The US military has completely lost face in the Pacific this time. They're still bragging about full-band electromagnetic suppression, when the enemy is just firing right at their faces!"

To be honest, Zhang Jian didn't have much hope of shooting down the American plane.

Having intelligence is one thing, but being able to time it right is another.

Furthermore, since all operations need to be completed in an instant, the requirements for the soldiers' skills are further raised.

In his opinion, being able to injure someone would be quite good, but unexpectedly, he was actually able to take them down!

Zhang Jian tossed Fahad's phone back to him.

He then took out his own device, swiped the screen, and switched to the global live broadcast channel of Iranian state television.

The video is still playing on the screen.

Brigadier General Sheikh of the Air Defense Command stood in his crisp military uniform, with a large pile of charred metal debris behind him.

On the wreckage, the distinctive low-visibility paint scheme and tail number of the U.S. military aircraft are clearly visible, and there is even half of a wing bearing the Stars and Stripes insignia.

Ironclad evidence.

Sheikh stood facing numerous microphones, his expression serious and solemn.

"Last night, our valiant air defense forces, united in their hatred of the enemy, successfully thwarted the shameless sneak attack by the US military!"

"Facts have proven that the US military is not invincible!"

"Their fighter jets are nothing but expensive scrap metal in front of us!"

Immediately afterwards, Sheikh raised his right hand and waved it.

At the edge of the frame, two fully armed Iranian soldiers escort a man out.

The man was still wearing a US military anti-G suit, his head was wrapped in thick bandages, and his face was ashen.

The camera was zoomed directly into the man's chest.

The identification badge is enlarged in close-up: USAF, Captain, number 4831.

The chat in the live stream paused for a second, then exploded with messages at a frantic pace.

"Oh my god, it's really true!"

"Iran has really pulled off a stunt this time! Not only did they shoot down the plane, but they also captured the pilot alive?"

"But why is there only one pilot? Didn't they shoot down two? Could it be...?"

The comments scrolled by rapidly.

There are all sorts of opinions.

Some even made sarcastic remarks, saying that when American planes crashed before, it was either due to "mechanical failure" or "friendly fire".

This effectively shut down the Americans' excuse.

Zhang Jian put down his phone, his brows slowly furrowing.

This is making too much of a splash.

The Americans have suffered such a huge loss that they will definitely retaliate like mad dogs.

The waters around Tehran are likely to get increasingly murky.

He stretched and slowly sat up.

"System, check the current crisis level."

[Instruction accepted, currently under evaluation...]

[Due to the influence of host intelligence, the activity level of the intelligence network in the Middle East has surged by 300%. The CIA is deploying high-level agents to intervene, significantly increasing the risk of host exposure.]

Looking at the feedback on the blue screen, Zhang Jian felt increasingly anxious.

It seems that the acquisition of weapons and the arming of the grocery store must be accelerated.

At the same time.

Washington, D.C., the White House.

Snapped!

A thick briefing was slammed into the Minister of Defense's face, scattering papers all over the floor.

"Useless! A bunch of useless trash!"

Little Te's roar almost blew the roof off.

He braced himself on the desk with both hands, his face flushed red, spittle flying everywhere.

"You assured me yesterday that this airstrike would be a complete success!"

"And now?"

"The whole world is watching our pilots tremble like clowns on Iranian television!"

The Minister of Defense lowered his head, not daring to utter a single word in rebuttal.

After learning of the failed airstrike, they revised the press release overnight, originally intending to say that the fighter jets encountered extreme weather and crashed due to mechanical failure during nighttime training in international waters.

As a result, the Iranians broadcast it live globally, exposing them completely and showing them no mercy whatsoever.

Just then, the office door was pushed open again.

CIA Deputy Director and Middle East Bureau Chief Langley walked in.

"Mr. President, we have understood."

Langley's voice was very steady.

"Our electromagnetic suppression has not failed, and our covert routes have not been cracked by radar."

"The only explanation is that top-secret intelligence was leaked, and the Iranians got our raid plan in advance."

Little Te suddenly raised his head and stared intently at him.

"Don't give me that, I just want results, results!"

Langley lowered his head slightly.

"The results will take some time, and... I need the highest level of authorization to facilitate my actions."

Xiao Te gritted his teeth, pulled out a blank authorization form, quickly signed his name, and threw it over.

"for you!"

"I only have one request!"

"At all costs, we must find out who leaked our plan. I'll skin them alive!"

Half an hour later.

Langley boarded an armored vehicle bound for Andrews Air Force Base.

Inside the train carriage, he put on an encrypted headset and connected to the private line of Robert Hall, the CIA's head of operations in Iran.

On the other end of the phone, Hall was in a safe house on the outskirts of Tehran, extremely busy.

"Chief."

Hall's voice sounded tired.

"Report all unusual events that have occurred in Tehran in the past 48 hours."

Langley got straight to the point.

"Even if it's just a stray dog ​​being hit and killed by a car, I want to know."

Hall quickly opened the notebook beside him.

"We checked the communications of high-ranking Iranian military officials and found nothing unusual. Our external informant network also showed no major activity, but..."

Hall paused for a moment.

"A member of the 'Nighthawk' commando team was killed near the bazaar in the south of the city."

"The technique was clean; one fatal blow."

Langley leaned back in the leather seat, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees.

"The bazaar? That underground black market?"

"Yes."

Langley's fingers, which were tapping his knee, suddenly stopped.

These two things may seem unrelated, but there aren't many places in Tehran where you can buy weapons through the bazaar.

Iran has always maintained strict control over weapons, so the situation here is not that simple.

Moreover, it was Nighthawks who died.

Langley acknowledged that while American soldiers today are not what they used to be, they are not someone that just anyone can kill.

A single, fatal blow—people with that kind of skill are no pushovers.

"Mobilize half of Tehran's resources."

Langley gave the order into the microphone.

"Find out who the last target we were tracking was!"

"Retrieve all the surveillance footage from the area surrounding the bazaar, and activate all the informants."

"I need a list of all the unfamiliar faces who appeared there during that time period!"