Chapter 5: The Dead Undercover (4)
For those narrow, sharp eyes to go that wide was quite a sight. I couldn't help a faint smile, and continued: "You have a Black Moses operative inside your system. So I've basically confirmed one thing—this Black Moses must be an organization. A very secretive, powerful, evil organization."
Zhou Mi was listening carefully.
"If I'm not wrong in my reasoning, Sylvie... was targeted and exposed after uncovering something related to Black Moses, and that's why she was set up and killed. There are Black Moses operatives inside the Charlie Group too, but I don't know who."
6.
I took a difficult breath, lowered my hand from my neck, and reached for the teacup.
Zhou Mi stared at my wound with his lips slightly parted, but said nothing.
I took two sips of tea, lowered my eyes, waiting for the pain in my throat to ease—or rather, waiting to grow accustomed to it.
"Are you okay?" he frowned.
I set the cup down and waved a hand, indicating I was fine.
A moment later, I continued slowly:
"You've been avoiding the Case 127 massacre, but I can guess—some of your own people were killed, and probably not just a few. This massacre also has something to do with the undercover operatives in Myanmar."
I looked at Zhou Mi, waiting for an answer.
After a beat of hesitation, he gave a heavy nod: "That's right. Nine SWAT officers, six intelligence operatives, and a deputy team leader. All lost in the operation."
I closed my eyes briefly, then carried on as steadily as I could:
"You came to me today because you've already started suspecting something. You remembered that I told you I was waiting for Black Moses's people."
Zhou Mi didn't deny it: "So did you find them?"
I pressed the wound on my neck and sighed: "More or less. The ghost locked onto me. If I hadn't cut myself, I might never have gotten out."
Perhaps because a trace of blood scent hung in the air, the atmosphere shifted, something tense fermenting. Zhou Mi hazarded:
"You mean the ghost was among the people interrogating you that day?"
I shook my head, then nodded.
"The frequency with which they asked about Sylvie was simply too high. I can't be sure the ghost was on the interrogation team, but I know the ghost is definitely monitoring the content of those interrogations."
Plus, if Case 127 was what I suspected, then I was about half-certain—this ghost was ruthlessly efficient. From the shooting by Wu Tao to the Case 127 incident, the style had an uncanny similarity.
That day, the grinding-wheel interrogation had stopped abruptly after I cut my own throat. The ghost had temporarily pulled back.
Cat playing with mouse.
I continued: "This is why I deliberately avoided mentioning that Sylvie was dead. Her death was known only to me, Mongo, and Black Moses's people. If Black Moses knew I was aware as well, they'd suspect Sylvie might have passed on what she'd uncovered to me. My situation would become even more dangerous."
The rose-red butterfly fluttered once. I looked at her and said with helpless resignation: "But I didn't expect her dying words to land me in trouble—I nearly got killed because of something I helped relay. I should never have agreed to pass on anyone's message."
I'd said most of what I needed to. I shifted my gaze to Zhou Mi's face: "The timing of Case 127 is too much of a coincidence. You came to me because of this too, right?"
Zhou Mi nodded directly, admitting it: "Yes."
I asked: "Who took the fall?"
He spat out two words: "Director Lin."
I paused, then couldn't help but laugh softly. So it was him. This short-tempered leader who liked to slam the desk during interrogations—he probably offended plenty of people normally, and clearly stepped on someone's toes.
"What are you laughing at?" Zhou Mi asked.
The wound on my neck was throbbing now, genuinely painful. I hissed, pressed the gauze, and leaned back against the sofa cushion. A hint of relief touched me—a rare feeling—so I laughed again.
"I'm laughing because this ghost clearly didn't expect it'd make another move on my behalf."
At least the fog had cleared a little more.
The ghost couldn't very well take the blame for a massacre itself, could it?
I asked: "Can you tell me the connection between Case 127 and Wu Xiaochuan?"
Zhou Mi gave me a slightly surprised look, and instead of answering my question, asked one of his own:
"What did you study in college?"
What did that have to do with anything? I blinked, but told him honestly: "Accounting."
"So?"
Was Wu Xiaochuan an accounting major too? I had no idea.
But Zhou Mi didn't pursue the topic. He moved on to the question I cared about most: "Wu Xiaochuan has gone missing."
Missing? The Charlie Group's general secretary missing—and the news had reached Chinese public security already? Something felt off.
"He was an undercover operative too."
I leaned back as if struck by enlightenment, murmuring: "If I'm not mistaken, Wu Xiaochuan and Sylvie—Winter Lee—were both intelligence operatives under Director Lin's command, right? No wonder he nearly tore me apart during his interrogations... heh..."
"Correct."
"So what did Wu Xiaochuan do that led to Case 127?"
Zhou Mi answered tersely: "A major drug trafficking route intelligence map."
He added in a lower voice: "It was fake. They fell into a trap. The vehicles at the scene had bombs planted in them, and the surrounding area was sealed off by the criminals in advance. Every single person in the raid—none survived."
I thought of the intelligence map on Sylvie's phone and hurriedly asked: "Was it in a village called Yinmeng?"
Zhou Mi watched me, analyzing the information in my words, then shook his head: "The transaction point was in an abandoned auto repair shop in a border town called Mian Ding."
Two intelligence route maps. Both fake.
Sylvie had obtained a fake intelligence map, but she hadn't managed to send it out. After returning to China, not only had I concealed Sylvie's death, I'd also thoroughly deleted the compromised intelligence from her phone.
So Sylvie's intelligence map was definitely nullified.
They fabricated a second one, and through Wu Xiaochuan, they successfully delivered it.
Given what happened to Sylvie, Wu Xiaochuan must have been exposed too. Now he was either dead—or worse, he'd flipped.
Zhou Mi asked for details about the intelligence map. I gave him the rundown, then analyzed slowly:
"Sylvie and Wu Xiaochuan were very likely sold out by the same person. Also, whoever in Myanmar gave them this intelligence, that person is Black Moses."
I paused and said quietly: "There's another possibility. Black Moses is Wu Xiaochuan himself. He sold out Sylvie, killed Sylvie, fabricated the intelligence, and completely betrayed you."
Zhou Mi fell silent.
After a while, he said:
"Right now, the entire intelligence network has taken catastrophic losses." He shook his head. "After Case 127, not only did we lose a large number of extremely hard-to-cultivate operatives, creating a personnel gap—and many of them were interconnected—our undercovers in Myanmar have been compromised, and others may no longer be safe either."
The entire intelligence-reporting network would enter a period of blindness.
possibly, both Zhou Mi and I had reached the same conclusion, but I decided to state it anyway: "You can't see over there, but they can still see you. It's like... they're deliberately laying groundwork. There's something enormous they need to accomplish, and to make it happen, they first had to blind you."
...
We'd covered most of it. I rested for a few minutes, then stood to leave.
Zhou Mi didn't move right away, crossing his arms instead: "Elyse, are your hallucinations... severe?"
I paused, said nothing.
But Zhou Mi clearly wasn't the type to be put off. He asked, with genuine seriousness: "What do you see?"
What do I see...
I suddenly remembered the Burmese man I'd seen at the night market this afternoon.
"When I was eating rice noodles today, I saw someone from Little Golden Port." I said softly. "But I'm not sure if it was real, or if it was a hallucination."
"How do you usually... tell the difference?"
Well...
I smiled, raised my finger, and poked it toward the space behind him. The tip of my finger passed straight through Sylvie's forehead.
"Dead people are definitely hallucinations."
I skirted the sofa and walked slowly toward the door. Zhou Mi finally stood, grabbed the car keys from the coffee table, and followed. Just then I remembered something else, so I turned and glanced at him.
Captain Zhou was perceptive: "What?"
I chose my words carefully, starting with my own concerns: "Actually, I've been in the hospital for over a month now, and I've told you everything I know. Honestly, I really don't want to be strapped to a bed like a lunatic every day, and I don't want to tangle with the ghost anymore, either."
"I'm just an ordinary person. I want to live a normal life. When can I leave Cang City?"
The two of us stood at the entryway. Neither went for the door. Zhou Mi thought for a moment, then tilted his chin toward my shoulder: "An injury like this doesn't heal in a month."
That meant I couldn't leave yet.
I managed a dry smile: "It's almost better."
"Elyse, there's something I haven't said before. But where else can you go?"
Zhou Mi's gaze dropped, scrutinizing my expression, certain I had no answer to that question.
After a beat, he reached for the door lock first: "Whether you can leave Cang City—I'll report to Director Lin, and we'll decide based on the circumstances."
Director Lin.
At least Director Lin wasn't Black Moses's man. Zhou Mi's actions shouldn't bring me further danger.
Finally getting the answer I needed, I felt reassured, and stepped out the door first.