Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

Zhang Jian shrugged.

"General, this is putting me in a difficult position."

That's purely subjective conjecture.

Hearing Zhang Jian's unyielding tone, Aiharid's voice noticeably rose a few decibels.

"What about Hall and the 'Blacksmith'?"

"Those two people are dead too. Don't tell me you didn't know about this!"

Zhang Jian paused slightly, a surge of relief welling up inside him.

Sure enough, Smith also revealed Hall and the "blacksmith" to him.

"The 'blacksmith,' I know him, he's a well-known arms dealer in Tehran."

"I bought some light equipment from him before."

"But what does it matter to me whether he lives or dies?"

"It's not uncommon for someone in his line of work to die a violent death in the street one day."

Zhang Jian changed his position, putting his leg, which was starting to get better, on the edge of the bed.

"As for Hall..."

"To be honest, I haven't received any messages from him."

"When I provided you with information about Langley, I was wondering why Hall wasn't there."

"Zhang! Don't treat everyone like fools!"

"The fact that I made this call myself proves that I have solid evidence!"

Aiharid's speech grew faster and faster, filled with barely suppressed anger.

"Let me tell you the truth."

"We recovered several spent shell casings at the scene of Hall's death."

"After comparison by ballistics experts, the rifling marks on these cartridge cases are consistent with those found at the scene of Langley's killing..."

"Exactly the same!"

"I now have every reason to suspect that the person who did it was the same person!"

Zhang Jian was slightly taken aback.

Shell casing?

What kind of evidence can this thing be used as?

"General, whether it's the same person or not, what does it have to do with me?"

"Eight out of ten sniper rifles circulating on the black market in Tehran are the same model."

"You can't just pin this on me based on a few broken bullet casings, can you?"

"Besides, what harm would it do to you pro-war faction whether Langley lives or dies?"

There was an instant silence on the other end of the phone.

Only Ahrid's heavy breathing came through the microphone.

A full half minute passed.

Ahrid's voice then rang out again.

The anger subsided considerably, replaced by a sense of helplessness.

"Fine, I can't argue with you."

"Without the surviving testimonies of Hall and 'the blacksmith,' Smith's word alone is not enough to do anything to you."

"but!"

Ahrid emphasized his words.

"Zhang, I don't want this to happen again."

"If the same thing happens again, even if you have connections, don't blame us for turning against you!"

Zhang Jian remained silent.

Just listen to those polite words and ignore them.

If they really wanted to turn against us, they would have already surrounded the grocery store. Why would they need to call and whine like that?

Sure enough, before Zhang Jian could reply, Aiharid's tone softened.

"Zhang, it's too late now. Whether you did it or not is no longer important."

"The Americans have decided to intensify their offensive against us."

"Did you see the Pentagon press conference? They're sending another aircraft carrier; the situation in the Persian Gulf is very tense."

Aiharid sighed.

"The pressure on the front lines is immense, and the air defense system is in dire need of resources."

"I can drop the matter regarding Langley."

"I could even use my authority to erase Smith's statement for you."

"Let's pretend this never happened."

"but……"

"We need your intelligence regarding any subsequent US offensive."

Zhang Jian smiled.

That's right.

When you ask someone for a favor, you need to have the right attitude.

He sat up straight, picked up the teacup on the table, and took a sip of the already cold black tea.

"General, the intelligence is easy to obtain."

"I'm an open business, and as long as the price is right, I have all kinds of goods."

"So, what do you need this time?"

"I need the specific time and range of the next US military strike."

"The sooner the better."

Zhang Jian did not reply immediately.

He quickly issued instructions in his mind.

"System, check the US military's next round of military strike plans against Iran."

[Ding! Target intelligence retrieval in progress...]

The U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff are currently holding closed-door consultations on the strike plan, and a final plan has not yet been finalized.

[Live monitoring of the meeting will incur a charge of $50000. Do you wish to pay?]

Zhang Jian decisively chose no.

Even Americans themselves haven't figured it out yet, so it's completely unnecessary to waste money listening to their arguing.

Wouldn't it be more cost-effective to just buy the final result once they've finalized and stamped it?

"General, this matter cannot be rushed."

Zhang Jian spoke into the phone.

"Even if the US military wants to continue its attacks against you, it will take some time."

"Once they've reached a conclusion and I have the intelligence, I'll let you know as soon as possible."

"However... we need to lay the unpleasant truth out beforehand."

Money is not a problem.

Aiharid had anticipated what Zhang Jian was about to say.

"As long as your intelligence is accurate enough, when has the General Staff ever treated you unfairly?"

"That makes things easier."

Zhang Jian smiled.

"Wait for my news."

Ahrid grunted in response and was just about to hang up the phone.

"etc."

Zhang Jian suddenly spoke up.

"Is there anything else?"

"General, would you be interested in making a small deal?"

"trade?"

Aiharid paused for a moment.

What do you want?

Zhang Jian picked up the equipment list that Amir had written for him yesterday from the table.

It unfolds slowly.

"It's just some small equipment."

"For example, a high-frequency signal transmitter."

"One set of miniature array servers."

"Another signal-guided device, plus several sets of anti-tracking hardware, and..."

As Zhang Jian continued to rattle off these technical terms, Aiharid on the other end of the phone frowned more and more deeply.

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Aiharid interrupted Zhang Jian.

"What would you, a general store owner, need these things for?"

Zhang Jian sighed, his tone revealing a hint of helplessness.

"General, as you said yourself, I'm just a general store owner."

"But none of the things I'm doing right now are things a grocery store owner should be doing!"

"Not only am I being watched by you all, but the Americans are also eyeing me covetously outside."

"My information about 'Desert Fox' was already in the CIA's database. Who can guarantee that the Americans won't take action against me?"

"If I don't take some defensive measures, like a small signal jammer and an anti-tracking network, I wouldn't even know when I'd lose my life."

Ahrid remained silent on the other end of the phone.

The sound of a lighter rang out again.

A good ten seconds or so passed.

He then spoke again.

"I can approve the equipment for you."

"But Zhang, there's something you need to understand."

"These things can't be bought with money, especially in Tehran."

Zhang Jian narrowed his eyes.

"General, as I just said, this is a deal."

"These things aren't cheap, but I'll offer some matching intelligence in exchange for them; it's not like I'm getting something for nothing."

"Oh?"

Al-Khalid became somewhat interested.

Tell me about it.

Mossad.

Zhang Jian succinctly uttered three words.

The phone went silent instantly.

Aiharid's heavy breathing stopped abruptly.

The room was eerily quiet.

"What did you just say?"

Aiharid's voice was dry, even a little hoarse.

"I said, Mossad."

Zhang Jian repeated it.

Mossad, Israel's intelligence agency.

In the Middle East, these three words represent pervasive infiltration and elusive assassinations.

For Iran, Mossad poses a far greater threat than the CIA!

"Can you get your hands on Mossad's list of agents in Tehran?"

Zhang Jian smiled slightly.

"General, you're being a bit greedy."

"The things I need aren't worth that much money."