Chapter 139 Where in the world is there any intelligence work that doesn't involve risks?

The perspective crosses the Pacific Ocean and returns to that windowless conference room buried deep underground in China.

By this time, the air in the conference room had become unusually hot due to the heated argument, and even the air purifier was almost smoking.

There were more people sitting at the conference table. In addition to the original team, several experts specializing in North American sociology and behavioral psychology were specially transferred from several top think tanks and the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences.

The message Alex left on the note about Leon Vance's drive to come from the East has been sent back home and is now being projected word for word onto a giant screen.

"Bang!"

Professor Zhou, the expert who was previously in charge of psychological profiling and cultural analysis, slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly, like a victorious rooster.

"Did you see that! Did you see that, comrades!"

Professor Zhou, beaming with excitement, pointed at the screen and recited Lyon's exact words on the screen, complaining about America's medical waste, rampant drug trafficking, "happy education," and political correctness, spitting as he spoke:

"What did I say before? Cultural identity! The convergence of underlying logic!"

"This is absolutely not something a normal white American would say!"

"What does his yearning for a safe and secure environment and his deep-seated abhorrence of America's unbridled liberalism tell us?"

"This shows that his core values ​​have long leaned towards our established order and society! I figured it out long ago; even if he wasn't a covert comrade, he was an extremely rare pro-China figure!"

"Only here can make him feel safe!"

"Bullshit! You surnamed Zhou! You're like someone who sees everything as a nail when they have a hammer. Give me a break!"

Sitting opposite him was an elderly sociology professor with thinning hair, Wang Peilin, who slammed his hand on the table and retorted without any politeness.

These two individuals have never gotten along in academia and often engage in verbal battles in core journals.

"What kind of cultural identity is this?"

"Find a taxi driver in a red state, or a redneck rancher in Texas; the language they use to swear at liberals, LGBT people, and street drug dealers is a million times dirtier than this Vance!"

Researcher Wang tapped the tablet in his hand.

"This is just a typical venting session by an American conservative pragmatist dissatisfied with the status quo! How can you take it all in and label it as an endorsement of Eastern culture?"

"He was just pushed to the limit!"

"You don't know anything!"

Old Zhou retorted without backing down.

"If pushed too far, he'll defect to socialism? Wang Peilin, are you out of your mind?"

"Rednecks are hurling insults to get elected Republicans! But what about Vance? After his rant, he chose to directly contact Eastern students wanting to become spies, and even offered to send Raytheon and Boeing engineers to us across the ocean!"

"Is this something a simple conservative would do? Explain it to me!"

"That's because he wants to run away and needs a pledge of loyalty! You charlatan who spouts mysticism!"

"You're such a rigid, old-fashioned scholar who only knows how to look at data!"

The meeting room immediately descended into chaos, with several experts arguing fiercely over their differing opinions.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the conference table, veteran agent Lao Zhang was idly picking his ear.

Old Zhang's full name is Zhang Jianguo, and he is the most experienced person in this room.

He spent twenty years infiltrating North America and eventually made a clean break. His understanding of American grassroots society, gangs, and the FBI's operating model is deeper than all the academic experts present combined.

The young analyst sitting next to Lao Zhang, Xiao Li (Li Hao), is Lao Zhang's apprentice. He gets scolded a lot, but he has learned a lot from him.

At this moment, Xiao Li was looking at the analysis report on the screen with a conflicted expression, muttering to himself.

"Master, what exactly is Vance after...? I feel like Professor Zhou and Researcher Wang's points both make some sense..."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

Old Zhang slapped Xiao Li on the back of the head.

"Ouch, Master, why did you hit me..." Little Li muttered aggrievedly, covering his head.

"I hit you because you're not quick-witted. Listening to those office geezers arguing too much will make you stupid."

Old Zhang took out a cigarette from his pocket, paused on the table, and said calmly:

"Whether Vance yearns for the East or simply thinks America is terrible and wants a change of scenery, does it matter?"

"That's just his own brain activity; you wouldn't understand it even if you dissected his skull."

Old Zhang pointed at the screen with his finger holding a cigarette:

"When gathering intelligence, don't listen to what others say, observe what they do."

"He brought in old Bill from Thor, and now he's pulled Boeing's Arthur back from the brink of death, and he's eager to hand him over to us."

"This shows that he does have valuable information, and that his current situation is indeed as he said, very dangerous and urgent."

Old Zhang turned his head and looked at Director Zhao Qiming, who had been sitting in the main seat without saying a word.

Zhao Qiming is also a veteran. In his early years, he was in charge of domestic counter-espionage and cleansing, and later he presided over deep network infiltration abroad. Decades of experience on the covert front have given him the composure to remain calm even when Mount Tai collapses in front of him.

But now, watching a group of old scholars arguing like they were in a market, even seemingly about to kick each other's butts, he could only sigh repeatedly.

"Old Zhao, stop listening to their argument."

Old Zhang shouted loudly, silencing Professor Zhou and Researcher Wang's argument:

"Now that we've basically ruled out the possibility that he's an FBI agent, we can't let this lead go, no matter what kind of person he really is."

"Arthur Pendleton, from Boeing's Advanced Research Unit, works on high-temperature alloys. This is something we're currently struggling with in our domestic aero-engine development; we desperately need it."

A glint of shrewdness flashed in Old Zhang's eyes:

"Have that exchange student, Alex, continue to keep Vance in check. Tell him we want him, but we need a little more time to arrange for his arrival; wait a few more days."

"It's time to move Old Chen's field team around too."

Hearing Lao Zhang's words, Zhao Qiming sighed, changed his posture, and sat up straight in the main seat.

He slammed his hand on the table twice, completely silencing the experts in the conference room who were still glaring at each other.

"Old Zhang is right."

Zhao Qiming picked up his thermos and took a sip of water, his expression turning solemn:

"Intelligence work certainly requires caution, like walking on thin ice. But if we're afraid of being set up and therefore hesitant to act, then our department might as well just shut down and disband."

"Is there any intelligence work in this world that is 100% risk-free?"

He put down his cup and turned to look at an agent sitting to his side who was specifically responsible for compiling intelligence on North America:

"Let's release the verified reports we've collected over the past two or three days regarding Vance's activities outside of Seattle."

The agent nodded and typed a few words on the keyboard.

The images on the screen switched to several briefings with special security classifications and screenshots of local Seattle news.

"Director, everyone."

The agent pointed to the screen and reported to the director:

"Based on cross-verification by our local sources in Seattle over the past few days, the title of Seattle hero Leon Vance is not a fabricated resume created out of thin air by the US government to create a god."

"In the gunfight in the industrial area a while ago, Vance and his ACU squad actually killed a group of Blood Gang drug dealers and retired mercenaries with heavy firepower."

"The extent of the horrific scene was basically consistent with the news reports."

"And then there was the kidnapping of the girl that happened a few days ago in the evening."

"Our informants also confirmed that Vance did indeed shoot the trafficker in the head at the motel on Fourth Avenue and rescue the child."

The agent closed the folder and gave his conclusion:

"Therefore, Leon Vance's identity as a frontline police officer who has been fighting on the streets for a long time is completely confirmed. He is not the kind of high-level agent who sits in the office and acts."

After listening, Zhao Qiming nodded slightly.

His identity is fine, his record is fine, and the pledge he presented is even more solid.

The rest is simple.

"Since they are willing to surrender and have two such valuable trump cards in their hands, then let's accept them."

Zhao Qiming made the final decision:

"Old Zhang, notify Old Chen in Seattle and tell his action team to get moving immediately."

"Go and investigate the ports, cargo ships, or land routes for smuggling people to Vancouver, and make sure the evacuation plan is thorough."

"Also, tell that international student, Alex."

"Have him reply to Vance. We want the men. Have him keep those two engineers calm. Once the route is arranged here, start the handover immediately."

"If this kid really is a comrade lurking in the heart of capitalism..."

Zhao Qiming looked around the conference room:

"Then we must not let him down."