My spy diary

Chapter 621 Intelligence (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

The night is rich.

When Zhang Yi woke up again, it was almost dawn. The moonlight seeped in through the window, a bright ray that fell on the floor like a layer of shattered silver.

He got up and saw his white shirt hanging out to dry by the window, and a bowl of shredded chicken noodles on the living room table. He went over and touched it; it was still warm.

Looking to the side, Shen Ruozhu was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. She was covered with a sheet, but the edges weren't tucked in properly, leaving half of her body exposed. She was frowning, as if she were having a nightmare.

Zhang Yi glanced at her a few times, tiptoed over to cover her with the sheet, and then turned to get dressed.

Suddenly, Shen Ruozhu trembled and woke up.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Zhang Yigang, dressed neatly, finished checking his firearms and ammunition, put his pistol into its holster, and saw Shen Ruozhu in the mirror:
"woke up?"

"What time is it?" Shen Ruozhu looked at the bed sheet on her body, then at him.

"It's almost midnight, there's still plenty of time, you can get some more sleep."

"Are you going out?"

"Go out for a walk. I've slept all day, so I need to get some fresh air and stretch my muscles."

Shen Ruozhu looked him up and down and noticed that Zhang Yi was wearing a shirt that wasn't yet dry, and his leather shoes were tightly laceed. She got up, tidying the sheets as she spoke:

"The soles of leather shoes are too hard; they'll rub your feet if you walk in them for a long time. If you're just going for a walk, there are slippers in the room."

This statement is quite profound.

“I’ll just wander around nearby, it’s not far,” Zhang Yi said calmly.

Shen Ruozhu placed the sheet on the bed: "Even if you're just stretching your muscles, you need to eat something first to have the energy, right?"

She paused, then pointed to the shredded chicken noodles on the table and said, "The chicken was freshly killed. That young policeman named Lu Shu'er was very attentive when he heard you were injured. He even caught his own rooster. Don't let his kindness go to waste."

"Lu Shu'er? Where is he?"

Shen Ruozhu pouted and pointed to the door: "I told him to go back, but he wouldn't listen. He said he wanted to stand guard for you."

Zhang Yi chuckled, slowly sat down, and picked up the bowl of shredded chicken noodles.

Shen Ruozhu didn't look at him, and continued making the bed, muttering to herself:
"Who dresses like this for a walk? They even wore a wet shirt."

She grumbled on, her tone mournful: "I've told you everything about myself, and you're still hiding things from me. If we're really going for a walk, do we really need to dress so formally?"

As she spoke, she turned around and said, "You have something on me, so even if you do something behind my back, I won't report you to Boss Dai."

Zhang Yi seemed not to have heard anything, eating noodles and receiving intelligence.

Today's intelligence has been updated.

[1. You met with Inspector Lian today and obtained relevant information—Li Yishan's daughter, Xiao Duo, is currently residing at No. 34, Section 2, Wangjia Village, on the outskirts of Shancheng County.]

[2. You met with Japanese spy Matsushima Ryoko today and obtained relevant intelligence—Watanabe Ichiro, the head of the Japanese special agency in Hangzhou, has planned and deployed a 'decapitation plan,' and Japanese spies Kuroda Nobunaga and Shibahara Heishiro have led twenty special forces members to ambush Dai Chunfeng on his only route through Shimen Town.]

Upon seeing this intelligence, Zhang Yi was alarmed; Dai Chunfeng was in imminent danger.

At this moment, he no longer cared what Shen Ruozhu was saying. He swallowed the noodles whole, ate them off in a few bites, then took out the two gold bars that Station Chief Tong had given him from the bedside table, stuffed them into his pocket, and turned to walk outside.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard Shen Ruozhu say, "Aren't you afraid that I'll lie to you and then tell Boss Dai? You said I'm a liar."

Zhang Yi smiled and said without turning his head, "The prettier a woman is, the more likely she is to lie, right?"

He went out of the room, and sure enough, Lu Shu'er was standing guard outside.

His hair was shorter, the scars on his face had faded, and he looked sharp in his crisply pressed police uniform. Upon seeing Zhang Yi, he snapped to attention and saluted: "Chief Zhang, Officer Lu Shu'er reporting for duty. Please give instructions."

Zhang Yi sized him up a few times and asked directly, "Do you know where I can get motorcycles in the county town?"

Lu Shuer was taken aback: "Director Zhang, what kind of car?"

"Motorcycles are motorized bicycles, pedal cars, and some people also call them electric bicycles."

"You mean a bicycle!" Lu Shu'er realized and quickly said, "Yes, that guy, Commander Li's brother-in-law Gu Mingyuan has one. He often drives it around town, that thing is super fast."

Zhang Yi was overjoyed upon hearing this, so he tried asking around and was surprised to find that it was true. Back in Chongqing, Zhang Yi had heard Shen Xishan boast that when he was the head of an intelligence group in the French Concession of Shanghai, he was ordered by Boss Dai to monitor student activities. Every day, he would ride his motorcycle to places like Jiangwan and Zhenru, where universities were concentrated, to gather intelligence. Sometimes, he would ride his motorcycle with friends to go hunting, and he lived a very comfortable life.

But that was Shanghai, after all, which is far superior to Jiangshan, a small county town. I never expected such a pleasant surprise.

Motorcycles were invented as early as 1885. German engineer Gottlieb Daimler built them by mounting a single-cylinder gasoline engine into a frame machine, and they were subsequently widely used in the military field.

It is said that the German army had more than 16,000 BMW R75 motorcycles on the front lines, equipped with MG34 and MG42 machine guns.

The U.S. military is equipped with Harley-Davidson WLA motorcycles, featuring a 738cc V engine paired with a chain-driven 3-speed gearbox, producing 23 horsepower, used for armed escort, communications, and reconnaissance missions.

The Soviet army was equipped with the M-72 (Sura), a copy of the German R71 civilian motorcycle.

The Japanese army used the Type 95 sidecar motorcycle, which was the main mobile equipment of the army. The engine was a copy of the Harley-Davidson, with a detachable sidecar added and a simple weapon platform that could be used to mount the Type 97 rotary machine gun and the Type 92 light machine gun.

"Lead the way!"

Lu Shuer was completely confused: "Director Zhang, where are we going?"

"Go find this Gu Mingyuan!"

"Oh, is that Commander Li's brother-in-law?"

"Scared?"

“I’m not afraid.” Lu Shu’er was uneasy. Seeing that Zhang Yi had already left him behind and was walking outside as fast as he could, he gritted his teeth and chased after him.

Downstairs, Zhang Yi quickly started the car. As soon as Lu Shuer got in, he stepped on the gas, and the car roared into the darkness.

At this moment, he looked solemn. Everyone, including Dai Chunfeng and Station Chief Tong, had underestimated the capabilities and ambitions of the Japanese. There was no doubt that Boss Dai was now in a precarious situation.

At this very moment, Dai Chunfeng's convoy may have already entered the enemy's ambush zone.

Now we can only pray that the guard company can hold out for a while longer, or that the firepower of the Japanese armed squads will not be so strong.

But experience told him that it was most dangerous to pin his hopes for success on the enemy's folly. Thinking of this, his expression grew increasingly grave; under no circumstances could Dai Chunfeng die now.

Shimen Town, highway entrance.

After getting out of the vehicle, Zhao Shanhe, the company commander of the guard company, observed that there was a horse-drawn cart carrying timber ahead. The road into the mountains was getting narrower and narrower, and he repeatedly shouted at the cart to move aside, but to no avail. He could only urge the driver to hurry up.

The driver of the timber cart seemed trembling with fear, but the carriage moved at a leisurely pace. He would occasionally glance at the jeep following behind. The road conditions were poor, but he deliberately tugged on the reins, driving the tired horse towards the potholes. Before long, the ropes binding the timber to the carriage were being jolted and loosened.

In the distance, another person appeared on the road. The coachman whipped the old horse a few times, and the horse neighed. The person on the road glanced in their direction and immediately ran silently to the side of the road. Right where he had just stood, a large rock rolled down.

The coachman immediately adjusted the direction, urging the old horse to rush towards the rock. The old horse was frightened and struggled wildly to one side, nearly causing the carriage to overturn. The already precarious wooden planks in the carriage suddenly tumbled out with a crash.

The carriage suddenly felt light, and the nearly out-of-control carriage swayed a few times before coming to a stop by the roadside. However, the road ahead was completely blocked by logs.

With a screeching sound of brakes, the Jeep came to a sudden stop again. Zhao Shanhe jumped out of the passenger seat, unable to contain his anger any longer, and stormed over to confront him:

"What's going on? How are you driving?"

The coachman got off the carriage tremblingly, bowing and scraping: "Sir, I'm so sorry, I don't know where the stone came from, it startled the horse and almost made the carriage overturn. I'll move the wood away right away."

As he spoke, he looked around and walked toward the back of the carriage.

Zhao Shanhe was furious and kicked the wood hard before returning to the passenger seat.

In the rearview mirror, he saw that the jeeps and cars behind him had been forced to stop. The carriage driver fawned over the soldiers, pulling out half a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offering them to each of them in a humble manner, asking for their help. But no one accepted the cigarettes; they all gripped their pistols tightly, their eyes fixed on the company commander.

Zhao Shanhe was furious and wanted to scold him, but when he thought of Boss Dai in the car behind and worried about wasting time, he could only signal a few soldiers to get out of the car and help move the wood, while he went to report to Boss Dai.

He didn't notice at all that the coachman craned his neck to peek in the direction of the sedan a few times, then quickly turned around, lit a cigarette, and seemingly casually shook the cigarette butt a few times.

On the windswept hillside, Shibahara Heishiro saw the hand gestures of the people below. He lowered his binoculars and turned to climb up the slope towards the cedar logs. He circled around to the back of a pile of logs, where several people were already waiting, holding crowbars and eager to try. Shibahara Heishiro glanced down the hill, sneered, and waved his hand sharply.

In the car at the foot of the mountain, Dai Chunfeng had already woken up. Hearing Zhao Shanhe's report, he couldn't help but peek out with suspicion. Seeing the soldiers moving wood ahead, and confirming that nothing was amiss, he asked with a look of utter disbelief:

"In the middle of the night, where are these timber workers coming from? Did they check their credentials?"

Zhao Shanhe's expression changed, and he stammered, "General Dai, I'll go right now."

"What's that sound?" Before he could finish speaking, Dai Chunfeng turned his head in astonishment and saw a loud rumbling sound coming from the hillside. A dark figure was moving rapidly, as if a mountain had collapsed.

Dai Chunfeng frowned deeply, and almost gritted his teeth as he spoke:
"Damn it, there's an ambush! Run!"

As they spoke, the rumbling grew louder and louder, and then the log rolled down the hillside, crashing directly onto the soldiers carrying the logs, their screams echoing throughout the area.

Then, gunshots rang out suddenly, like popping beans.

In the darkness, Dai Chunfeng's face was unusually pale and solemn.

Meanwhile, guided by Lu Shuer, Zhang Yi's car sped along and arrived at the courtyard of Gu Mingyuan's house.

Lu Shuer jumped out of the car and was about to knock on the door when Zhang Yi rushed over and kicked the door open, heading straight for the courtyard.

"Who?"

Amidst the barking of dogs, a middle-aged man wearing glasses and pajamas bravely peeked out from the main room. Lu Shu'er hurried forward, bowing and scraping, with a fawning smile:

"Mr. Gu, hello, I'm a police officer, here to accompany Director Zhang—"

This man was none other than Gu Mingyuan. He had initially thought it was an enemy coming to claim his life, and was trembling with fear. Upon hearing Lu Shuer introduce himself, he paused for a moment, then suddenly flew into a rage:
"You son of a bitch, you've gone too far, haven't you?"

As she spoke, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

However, at that moment, a large hand gripped his wrist like an iron clamp, squeezing and pushing him roughly, causing him to stumble.

Gu Mingyuan was a little stunned by this sudden turn of events:

"And who are you?"

Zhang Yi snorted coldly, then suddenly pulled a pistol from his pocket, pressed it against the man's head, and pointed it at the motorcycle in the yard, saying:
"I've requisitioned your car. Where are the keys?"

"Who the hell are you? Trying to requisition my car?" Gu Mingyuan wanted to curse, but at this moment, the cold black pistol pressed against his forehead made him weak in the knees. He nodded hastily, trembling as he shrank back into the house. After a rustling commotion, he obediently handed over the car keys.

After getting the car keys, Zhang Yi immediately started the motorcycle, checked the condition of the American Harley-Davidson and the fuel gauge, and then forced Gu Mingyuan to find a lead can of gasoline. He tied it to the motorcycle with a rope, then straddled it, took a deep breath to calm himself down, and then roared and twisted the throttle. The Harley-Davidson roared like a wild beast and sped into the darkness, leaving Lu Shuer and Gu Mingyuan with a dashing silhouette.

Lu Shuer and Gu Mingyuan, one filled with trepidation and envy, the other still seething with anger, stared at each other.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Mr. Gu, if there's nothing else, I..." The two spoke at the same time. Seeing that things were not going well, Lu Shu'er seized the opportunity and turned to run away.

Gu Mingyuan yelled, "You son of a bitch, don't run away!"

Lu Shuer took off running as fast as he could, with Gu Mingyuan shuffling after him in his slippers.

In the quiet of the night, four military police officers carrying submachine guns and wearing helmets stood on duty around the city gate fence, while another soldier leading the team was also fully armed.

Upon hearing the roar of the motorcycle, he immediately became alert and on high alert.

A soldier holding a small red flag stepped forward to stop the car.

Zhang Yi released the accelerator from a distance and reduced the speed. The Harley-Davidson was very powerful, and it took him a while to get used to it at first. Fortunately, he was a good driver and had already figured it out. He slid to a stop in front of the fence.

The soldier in charge stared at him for a few moments, then quickly stepped forward, stood at attention, and saluted.

"Director Zhang!"

Zhang Yi was somewhat surprised: "You know me? What's your name?"

The man said respectfully, "This humble servant is Zhao Tiezhu. I saw you and General Dai from afar when you came."

"It's good that we recognize each other," Zhang Yi glanced at him a few times, his gaze settling on the submachine gun in the soldier's hand. He immediately recognized it as a copy of the American Thompson M1921 submachine gun manufactured by the Taiyuan Arsenal. This gun was successfully copied in 1928, firing 11.43x23mm pistol ammunition. Initially, it primarily used 20-round magazines, later modified to 30-round magazines. It employed a blowback machine gun design, allowing selection of single-shot or automatic modes, with a rate of fire of 600-800 rounds per minute, and featured a stock and grip.

"I see!" Zhang Yi smiled, immediately got out of the car, and affectionately put his arm around Zhao's shoulder: "Squad Leader Zhao, how about we discuss something?"

(End of this chapter)