Three hours earlier, the bait in South America had been triggered. The enemy had looked for forty-seven seconds, then disconnected.
Ye Mo stared at the access logs on the screen, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk. His rhythm was steady, tap after tap, as though he were waiting for something.
"They looked at the false target," he said, "but they didn't pull their surveillance."
Emma Frost stood before the screen beside him, watching the signal map. Eight points were still lit in the New York Bay Area. One had moved a moment ago, but now it had stopped again.
"They weren't just browsing," she said. "They came to confirm something."
"Confirm what?" the newcomer asked, leaning against the wall. He wore a dark gray trench coat, its sleeves rolled up to reveal a ring of metallic patterns around his wrist. He was Yingya, a veteran of underground intelligence who specialized in fabricating information.
Ye Mo turned to him. "That I'm still alive."
The room fell silent for a moment.
"Mr. X died, and I was blown to ashes too." Ye Mo smiled. "But they don't believe it. So they sent a signal in to see if there was a response. The moment we made a move in South America, they went online to check-this isn't a manhunt. It's an autopsy."
Emma Frost frowned. "They're testing whether you really exist."
"Right." Ye Mo nodded. "Like checking a dead man's pulse to see if it's beating."
Yingya rubbed his chin. "Then let's give it a couple of beats."
Ye Mo said nothing and opened the holographic projection. A map of the West African border slowly unfolded. At the edge of the Congo rainforest, a cavity beneath the ice was marked in red.
"They think we're waiting," he said. "For clues, for reinforcements, for the perfect moment. But actually..."
He paused. "We've already set out."
"We can't move openly," Emma Frost said. "They've planted eyes everywhere. They'll spot us as soon as we move."
"Then don't move." Yingya walked over. "Let 'us' go to South America."
Ye Mo looked up at him.
"I can forge logs in three base stations," Yingya said. "They'll show that your team exchanged seven brief radio transmissions with very weak encryption, mentioning an abandoned radar station in the Amazon."
"Will they believe it?"
"People always believe what they want to believe." Yingya sneered. "Especially intelligence that looks stupid-the sloppier it is, the more it looks like real information leaked by accident."
Emma Frost picked up the thread. "At the same time, we'll deploy a miniature sensor array in West Africa. No transmissions, just recordings of changes in the surroundings. Make it look like preparations for reconnaissance."
"But they won't see any data uploads," Ye Mo added, "because there won't be any. Those sensors will be mute, just props."
"The enemy will think we're scouting the place," Emma Frost said, "and decide to reinforce their defenses."
"They only have so many resources." Ye Mo studied the map. "If they send people to South America, West Africa will loosen up. That brief window will be our chance."
Yingya smiled. "Misdirection on two fronts. One false, one real."
"That's not all." Ye Mo opened the console's underlying protocols. "We need to make them think this plan is flawless."
He entered a string of code and launched the upgraded Red Line Contingency Plan.
Phase one: keep the base on low power, cut all external lines, dim the lights to their lowest setting, and silence the air conditioning. Everything looked normal. No one noticed anything unusual.
Phase two: Yingya would release the South American intelligence. Through public network nodes in three different cities, he would fabricate multiple low-classification conversation logs involving "squad reorganization," "supply transport," and "route surveys," all pointing to the Amazon region.
Phase three: deploy ten sets of miniature sensors around the West African experimental station, disguised as permafrost probes. They would not actively transmit, only store data locally. To outside observers, it would look like an "environmental scan ahead of an imminent infiltration."
"They'll watch these signal sources," Emma Frost said. "Once they discover them, they'll definitely send someone to investigate."
"And find nothing," Ye Mo said. "But we're not afraid of them investigating. We're afraid they won't move."
"Why?"
"Because if they don't move, it means they're waiting for a bigger target." Ye Mo stared at the projection. "But if they do move, it means they're rattled-and that proves we've found the right place."
Yingya nodded. "Movement means an opening."
"So this isn't just about deceiving the enemy." Ye Mo stood up. "It's psychological warfare."
The three stood around the projection in silence for several seconds.
"What's the operation called?" Yingya asked.
Ye Mo glanced at the screen. The red dot beneath the ice was still blinking.
"Sinking Abyss."
"Good name." Yingya began connecting to the remote nodes. "I'll start laying out the data streams now."
He typed rapidly, and several lines of code appeared. The first wave of fake communications was generated, routed through a relay station in Brussels, and forwarded to an abandoned server somewhere in South America.
Emma Frost switched to the surveillance interface and adjusted the signal-filtering parameters. She lowered the main console's detection frequency to once every fifteen minutes to keep frequent scans from attracting attention.
"Stay quiet," she said. "Let them think we're still hesitating."
Ye Mo sat back down and opened the logging system. He deleted the entry "Sixth-layer seal preparations complete" and replaced it with an ordinary equipment maintenance reminder.
"We can't leave any traces," he said. "We can't even put our real progress in a diary."
Yingya looked up. "Didn't you always used to say, 'The system made me do it'? Why aren't you passing the buck now?"
Ye Mo smiled. "Dead men don't have systems anymore. What excuses are there to make?"
"You've changed," Emma Frost said softly.
"No, I haven't." Ye Mo watched the screen. "It's just that now, I want to win."
Yingya had already laid out three layers of data streams. The fake intelligence about South America was spreading, and several dark web forums had begun discussing reports of a "mysterious organization appearing in the rainforest."
"It's working," Yingya said. "Three parties are already tracking this lead."
"Two of them are Hydra." Emma Frost glanced at the IP sources. "The third... looks like Hellfire remnants."
"Good." Ye Mo brought up the global signal map. "Let them all come."
He scheduled the sensor arrays in West Africa to wake automatically every six hours, collect ten seconds of environmental data, then shut down. The frequency was so low that it would hardly be taken for a full-fledged operation.
"Like breathing," he said. "Very faint, but always there."
"They'll think we're probing," Emma Frost said.
"Right." Ye Mo nodded. "Then they'll deploy more people. Once they move their main force over, we'll go in through the maintenance passage."
"When do we move?"
"Wait for them to tell us themselves."
"What do you mean?"
"When activity in South America increases, but the defenses in West Africa grow stronger instead," Ye Mo said. "That means they're afraid-afraid we'll flank them."
"That's when we strike."
Yingya finished the final masking program and leaned back in his chair.
"The first wave of false signals is out," he said. "We should get a response within twelve hours."
Emma Frost continued monitoring the signal network. There were no anomalies.
The base was quiet, its equipment humming softly under dim lights.
Ye Mo's fingers were still tapping the desk in a steady rhythm.
He knew the other side was watching, listening, waiting for them to make a mistake.
So he did nothing.
He simply waited.
Waited for the enemy to blink first.
Yingya connected to the final node, and a connection successful notification appeared on the screen.
"Done," he said. "Now the whole world thinks Mr. X is going to South America."
Emma Frost looked at Ye Mo. "What next?"
Ye Mo did not answer.
He stared at the red dot on the map of West Africa, slowly raised his hand, and pressed the communications mute button.
All external communication channels shut down.
The base entered complete radio silence.
His fingers came to rest on the desk, his fingertips a little hot.
A faint electrical hum came from the passage outside, and the light on the power distribution cabinet changed from blue to green.
Emma Frost walked over and stood beside him.
"Do you think they'll fall for it?"
Ye Mo watched the screen, his voice very soft:
"It's not a question of whether they fall for it."
"It's whether we can make them think they've won."