Chapter 143 Personnel Handover

Alex drove the refrigerated truck and quickly disappeared into the night.

Time flew by, and it was past midnight.

Leon stood alone in the cold wind at the street corner, took out the walkie-talkie clipped to his waist, and gave instructions to Harrison and his team members.

"Harrison, take a few men to 12th Street and keep an eye on the rest of the gang."

"Bulldozer, go take a look around that block on the east side where cars often get stolen. Get everything moving, don't dawdle in your vehicles."

After sending all the energetic guys to other neighborhoods, Lyon avoided the surveillance cameras on the main road, hailed a taxi with its vacant light on, and headed straight for his luxury apartment in the city center.

He would never drive ACU's Ford Explorer to drop someone off.

All Seattle Police Department vehicles are equipped with GPS tracking systems, so even though he is now a team leader, if the dispatch center is willing to check his driving route, they can immediately find out that he drove to the abandoned industrial park in the northern suburbs in the early morning.

He certainly wouldn't do something so foolish as to leave behind evidence.

Twenty minutes later, Lyon unlocked the apartment door with his fingerprint.

Pushing open the door, I saw a floor lamp lit up in the living room.

Old Bill was still scribbling on a pile of draft paper, while Arthur, though his fever had subsided, was still somewhat weak and was resting on the sofa with his eyes closed, covered by a blanket.

"Stop writing. Pack your things and take them with you."

This time, Leon didn't bother to change his shoes. He walked straight to the center of the living room, pulled two black masks from under the coffee table, and tossed them to the two men.

"Put them on. Let's go now."

"Now?!"

Old Bill paused for a moment, holding the pen in his hand, looking very surprised:

"So suddenly? Didn't you say they were still evaluating it? I thought it would take ten days to half a month."

Arthur, who was next to him, also opened his eyes. Although he didn't speak, his eyes also showed surprise.

For these two old men, being suddenly woken up in the middle of the night to run away was quite a thrill.

"That's normal."

Lyon picked up his car keys and explained in a calm tone:

That's how intelligence work is.

"Before final execution, no lower-level环节 (link/stage) needs to know the specific task time and location. Instructions are only issued when the task needs to be done."

"If we are notified a few days in advance of the departure date, and any one of us drinks a couple more drinks or accidentally sends a text message on an unencrypted phone, the information could be leaked."

"No warning, no surprises. Let's go."

Upon hearing this explanation, Old Bill and Arthur nodded in understanding, their admiration for Leon's high-ranking agent growing even stronger.

"Understood."

Old Bill didn't ask any more questions. He quickly folded the few pages of paper on the table and hid them in his inner pocket.

Arthur's legs were still a little unsteady when he stood up. Old Bill walked over and firmly supported his former neighbor's arm.

The two put on their masks and followed Lyon out of the apartment.

They took the private elevator of this luxury apartment building, which went directly down to the underground parking garage on the second basement level without stopping at any other floors.

The Dodge Challenger in Lyon was parked quietly in the corner.

He opened the back door, let old Bill help Arthur inside, then got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

With a deep roar, the engine pulled out of the underground parking garage and into the Seattle streets at midnight.

The carriage was quiet. Old Bill and Arthur were both on edge, and neither dared to speak.

Lyon gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his eyes constantly scanning the rearview mirror and the streets on both sides.

The atmosphere tonight seems inexplicably oppressive.

Lyon stopped his car at a traffic light intersection.

A homeless man in a tattered trench coat was pushing a shopping cart past on the roadside. Suddenly, he stopped, turned around, and stared intently at the dark window of the Dodge Challenger for a full ten seconds.

Leon's hand instantly reached for the Glock at his waist, his muscles tensing.

Is this guy an informant hired by Raytheon to search for people on the street? What's he holding? A walkie-talkie?

Just as Lyon was about to run the red light, the homeless man suddenly bent down, picked up a discarded half-smoked cigarette butt from the puddle next to the wheel, carefully put it in his pocket, and then slowly pushed the bike away.

Lyon cursed under his breath and loosened his grip on the gun.

The green light came on, and the car continued forward.

After driving about five kilometers, Lyon frowned again.

In their rearview mirror, a black Ford sedan had been following them for a full three blocks.

Every time Lyon changed lanes, the other car would also change lanes, always keeping the distance between them about fifty meters.

"Are they being watched by the FBI?"

Lyon's eyes turned completely cold.

He glanced at the road sign next to him, then suddenly turned the steering wheel to the right, and the car cut directly into a narrow one-way alley.

He planned to perform a extreme drift at the fork in the road ahead to test the other party's reaction. If the other party still dared to follow, he was ready to force them to stop and then launch a preemptive strike.

However, the black Ford sedan did not follow. Instead, it turned on its left turn signal and turned into a 24-hour drive-in restaurant to buy a late-night snack.

That was just a night shift driver who happened to be going the same way.

"call……"

Looking at the empty streets in the rearview mirror, Leon let out a long sigh and couldn't help but shake his head with a self-deprecating smile.

I'm just being a bit neurotic and paranoid.

He reviewed the situation carefully.

He brought the person out directly from the underground parking garage of a luxury apartment building with strict access control and a private elevator, without ever showing his face on the outside streets.

No matter how powerful Raytheon's agents and security personnel are, they can only rummage through trash cans in those dilapidated RV campgrounds and relief stations like headless flies.

There was simply no way they could directly locate his private car, which was driving on the highway, without any clues whatsoever.

"Relax, there's no point in scaring yourself."

Lyon said to himself.

The rest of the journey was uneventful, and the car sped along Highway 99 towards the northern suburbs.

Two o'clock in the morning.

The buildings along the road became increasingly sparse, and the streetlights grew dimmer.

The Dodge Challenger slowed down outside a dilapidated, abandoned industrial park and eventually came to a stop at the back door of a rusty old farm machinery warehouse.

The engine is off and the headlights are off.

The surroundings were suddenly plunged into complete darkness, with only the howling of the cold wind whistling through the abandoned factory.

"get off."

Lyon opened the car door and led old Bill and Arthur to the back door of the rusty old farm machinery warehouse.

He raised his hand and knocked hard on the metal door.

"Clang, clang clang."

In the desolate wilderness, the knocking sound carried far, but there was a deathly silence inside; there was no response, and no one came to open the door.

Lyon frowned slightly, looked around, and then took out his phone to check the time.

2:03 AM.

The position was exactly the same one Alex had given me, down to the last detail.

Since the time and place are both fine, then his actions must be correct. Intelligence exchange isn't a gangster deal; the other party isn't going to openly greet him with their door wide open.

No face-to-face contact, no physical contact – that's the safest form of physical isolation.

Lyon turned around and looked at old Bill and Arthur, who were shivering in the cold wind.

"I'll leave you here."

Leon lowered his voice, his tone crisp and decisive:

"You two stay where you are and don't make a sound. The person you're in contact with is probably nearby; they'll come looking for you."

"Mr. Vance, aren't you going to wait with us?" Old Bill asked somewhat nervously.

"No, I have to leave immediately."

Lyon shook his head.

"I sneaked out on my own. The longer I stay away from ACU, the more likely I am to run into trouble and be targeted by the Internal Affairs Department. Follow their plan and take care."

After saying that, Leon didn't hesitate at all, turned around, opened the door of the Dodge Challenger, and got in.

With a deep engine roar, the sports car turned around, and its two red taillights quickly disappeared on the road leading to the city.

Just as Lyon's taillights completely disappeared from sight.

In the shadow of an abandoned elevated water tower less than fifty meters from the back door of the warehouse, several silhouettes that blended almost into the night moved slightly.

They were several Chinese faces wearing dark tactical cold-weather suits and sporting neat short hair.

One of the men, who seemed to be the leader, pressed his earpiece and asked in a low voice:

"Outer observation post, report. Any tails?"

Two Chinese replies, tinged with a slight static, quickly came through the earpiece:

"Position number one confirmed. There are no following vehicles within three kilometers of the target vehicle, and no signs of drone surveillance."

"Position number two confirmed, surrounding streets are clean, Leon Vance arrived by bicycle."

The man in the lead released his grip on the earpiece, his sharp gaze fixed on the two old men still waiting in the cold wind not far away.

Safe. No fishing, no ambushes.

"Maintain vigilance on the perimeter and initiate the receiving procedure."

The man turned around, gave a tactical hand signal to his two companions behind him, and issued the order:

"Proceed according to Plan A. After picking up the people, do not take the city highways, but go directly to the western freight highway to the Port of Seattle."

"At 4:30 a.m. today, a Panamanian cargo ship fully loaded with soybeans and timber will depart from the port."

"The first mate and captain of that ship are both our own people, and safe compartments have been cleared out in the hold."

"Hurry up, we must get them on the boat and out to sea before dawn."

"Understood." The two people behind him nodded.

The man picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed an encrypted frequency.

Several tens of seconds later.

With a slight whirring of an electric motor, a heavy-duty refrigerated truck that had been parked in the abandoned factory next door silently slid out and came to a steady stop in front of Old Bill and Arthur.