Dark Night in Cangzhou

Hebei, Cangzhou, suburbs.

The night was deep, concealing many traces of the day. This was an area where old factories and scattered self-built houses were mixed together. The roads were narrow, the streetlights were dim, and some were even broken and had not been maintained for a long time. Most of the buildings were dark, with only the headlights of cars on the distant national highway occasionally breaking through the darkness and bringing a fleeting glimmer of light.

On the edge of this seemingly ordinary, even somewhat dilapidated area, stands an inconspicuous two-story building. The building is dusty and gray, with peeling paint on the walls, and thick, dark curtains drawn over the windows, letting in no light. There isn't even a sign at the entrance; it looks like an abandoned warehouse or an old dormitory. In the equally silent environment around it, it stands quietly like a stubborn rock, completely unremarkable.

But at this moment, the atmosphere inside this "stubborn rock" is as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.

Deep inside the first floor of the small building, in a specially reinforced and soundproofed room, the lights were dimly lit. Several large LCD screens hung on the wall, flickering with a ghostly blue light, displaying real-time footage from various hidden cameras around the building. In night vision mode, black and white images outlined the walls, alleyways, and abandoned material yards; everything seemed peaceful.

But the people sitting in front of the screen looked unusually solemn.

"At the three o'clock position on the left, in the shadow area behind the low wall, there is an abnormal heat source detected by infrared sensors. It remains stationary and is not a stray cat or dog." A young man wearing a headset stared intently at the screen, his voice low, his fingers rapidly typing on the keyboard, zooming in on a specific image. Although the image was blurry, a huddled human silhouette could be vaguely discerned.

"Two people, next to the trash can in the back alley. They're well disguised, but their movements are too 'standard'; they're not homeless people from this area," added another female team member, who was staring at another screen. She had short, neat hair and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

"That abandoned van diagonally opposite the main gate, the thermal imaging shows a persistent slight heat on the engine hood. Something's wrong. It's been parked for at least three days; it shouldn't be this warm." A third voice rang out. It was an older man with a faint scar on his face. He stared at the main screen, his brows furrowed.

On the screen, several scattered infrared hotspots, like will-o'-the-wisps quietly lighting up in the night, vaguely formed a loose encirclement, their target pointing directly at the small building where they were.

The air in the room seemed to freeze. Apart from the low hum of the machines and the suppressed breathing of a few people, there was no other sound.

"Holy crap..." The young man who spoke first, codenamed "Lynx," couldn't help but mutter under his breath, his tone filled with disbelief, "Are all these foreign troublemakers this arrogant now? Scouting and staking out this place, judging by this, they're planning to just storm in? Do they think this is a public toilet, where they can just come and go as they please?"

Their group belongs to the national security agency. This is an extremely secretive backup contact point and safe house located in Cangzhou. It is usually in a silent state and will only be activated when carrying out special missions or in extreme circumstances.

Within the system, only a handful of people knew of this place's existence. Now, unidentified foreign armed personnel had infiltrated its vicinity and even surrounded it. The implications of this sent chills down the spines of everyone present.

"Boss, what do we do now?" The female team member in charge of monitoring the back alley, codenamed "Nightingale," turned her head and looked at the man who had been standing silently in the shadows in the room.

The man appeared to be in his forties, with an ordinary appearance—the kind of person you'd easily lose in a crowd. But his eyes, even in the dim light, were unusually calm, like two deep pools. He was the leader of this group, codenamed "Rock".

Rock didn't answer immediately. He walked to the main screen, his gaze sweeping over the marked suspicious heat sources one by one, then looking at the other areas showing normal activity. His face didn't show much panic, only a cold seriousness and a rapid weighing of his options.

"What are you afraid of?" Rock finally spoke, his voice low but carrying a rock-like firmness that broke the oppressive atmosphere in the room. "This is our job. The door is locked, the windows are bulletproof, and the structure has been reinforced. They won't have it so easy to get in."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over his team members, a faint, yet ruthless, smile even appearing on his lips, "At worst, we'll fight them to the death. I've been in this business for so many years, I've always wanted to experience what it's like to drape the national flag. I just don't know if I'm qualified."

These words, spoken calmly, carried an undercurrent of resolute determination, as if facing certain death. Lynx and Nightingale's eyes sharpened, and they instinctively straightened their backs. Another burly team member, codenamed "Anvil," who had remained silent until now, muttered, "Boss, count me in."

"Boss, don't get agitated!" Lynx quickly said, "The situation hasn't gotten to that point yet! How about... we call the police first? Get the local police to come and help? They have more people and proper firepower; at least they can get us out of this mess!"

Rock shook his head, rejecting the suggestion. "Call the police? It's too late, and it might not even be useful." He pointed to the screen, "Since the other side was able to accurately locate our level of hidden outposts and dared to openly surround us, it means they came prepared and have some understanding of us."

Ordinary police officers from local police stations, or even the city's criminal investigation team, might not have a firepower advantage against these professionally armed individuals who could have overseas backgrounds, are well-trained, and carry weapons. Rushing in could result in unnecessary casualties, disrupt our plans, or even be exploited by them to create greater chaos.

His analysis was calm and ruthless, leaving Lynx speechless for a moment.

"So... we're just going to wait here like this?" Nightingale clenched her fists.

"Of course not." Rock walked to a safe in the corner of the room, quickly entered the password and fingerprint, opened the door, and took out a black satellite phone with a physical encryption button. "I activated the highest level of alert as soon as I detected the first abnormal heat source ten minutes ago."

As he spoke, he skillfully dialed an extremely short number. The call was answered almost instantly. Without wasting any words, Rock reported the current coordinates, the fact that he was surrounded by unidentified foreign armed personnel, that the other party was suspected of being armed, and that their intentions were unclear, and requested emergency assistance.

After hanging up the phone, he looked at his team members and said calmly, "I've already contacted the emergency response team from the nearby military region. They are equipped with rapid reaction forces and the necessary heavy firepower. This is standard procedure for dealing with this kind of situation. I believe they will arrive soon."

He glanced at his watch. "But until they arrive, what we need to do is hold on. Hold this place, buy time, and at the same time, try to figure out their intentions and personnel."

"Understood!" the three responded in unison, their eyes sharpening once more. With clear instructions and the hope of reinforcements, their initial shock and slight panic were quickly suppressed by their professionalism.

"Xiao Zhang," Rock said to Lynx, "Go open the 'warehouse.' According to Plan Number Two, everyone arm themselves."

"Yes!" Lynx (Xiao Zhang) immediately got up and walked to the seemingly flat wall on the other side of the room. He pressed rhythmically at several specific points on the wall, and with a slight whirring sound, a wall panel about one meter square silently slid inward, revealing an even darker space behind it.

A faint smell of gun oil and metallic coolant wafted out. Lynx went in first and turned on the lights. Soft LED lights illuminated the hidden armory.

The space wasn't large, but the layout was compact and efficient. Gun racks on the walls were neatly arranged with firearms of varying lengths, ranging from compact submachine guns to precision marksman rifles, all in excellent condition, their bodies gleaming with a dark blue light under the lamps.

Below, in the ammunition cabinet, stacks of bright yellow bullets of different calibers are laid out. On the equipment rack next to it hang several tactical bulletproof vests with ceramic inserts, helmets, night vision goggles, tactical gloves, and other individual soldier equipment. Several green metal boxes in the corner are marked with labels for stun grenades, smoke grenades, and fragmentation grenades.

Without further ado, the four men acted swiftly. They first removed their outer garments and quickly put on heavy ceramic-plated bulletproof vests. The heavy plates inserted into the layers of their chests and backs created a reassuring sense of pressure.

Next, they put on their tactical helmets and adjusted the straps. Each person took a multi-purpose weapon pouch from the equipment rack, skillfully inserted several fully loaded pistol magazines into the magazine wells of the pouch, and then inserted a standard-issue pistol into the holster on their leg, checked the weapon's condition, and released the safety.

Rock and Anvil walked toward the gun rack. Rock took down a compact submachine gun suitable for close-quarters combat indoors, quickly checked the bolt, installed a suppressor (if silent combat was required), and then took several long magazines from the ammunition cabinet and inserted them into the magazine pouch on his vest. Anvil chose a more accurate carbine and loaded it as well.

Lynx and Nightingale, serving as technical support and mobile personnel, were primarily equipped with pistols, but each also took out two defensive grenades, one smoke grenade, and one stun grenade from their metal boxes and carefully hung them in appropriate positions on their vests.

The entire process was swift, quiet, and orderly. In less than three minutes, the four state security personnel who had been in civilian clothes were now fully armed, transformed into four combatants with cold eyes and excellent equipment. The heavy equipment made a slight metallic scraping and rustling sound as they moved, and the air was filled with a tense atmosphere of impending battle.

They returned to the monitor screen, each finding a favorable position for cover or observation, their guns lowered but their fingers lightly resting on the trigger guards, ready to fire at any moment.

Time ticked by, each second feeling incredibly long. Outside, all was still deathly silent, but the few heat sources on the screen remained motionless, like maggots clinging to a bone.

Suddenly, Nightingale, who had been staring intently at the surveillance camera in the direction of the main entrance, whispered urgently, "Team leader! They're about to make a move!"

Everyone's eyes immediately focused on the main screen.

Diagonally opposite the main entrance, next to the abandoned van suspected of containing a heat source, three figures emerged silently from the shadows. They were all dressed in dark urban combat uniforms, wearing tactical gloves, and their faces appeared to be covered in camouflage paint or masked; only their blurry outlines could be seen under the night vision lens. One of them seemed to be holding a device about the size of a mobile phone, pointing it towards the building, as if conducting a final check or taking a picture.

They exchanged a few quick gestures without making a sound. The person holding the device whispered something into their phone (or communicator), but due to the distance and soundproofing, only a muffled static could be heard from the audio recorder.

Then, the man packed up his equipment and, to his two companions and other accomplices who might be hiding in the shadows in other directions, made a clean and decisive gesture of attack and advance.

The other heat sources on the screen began to move almost simultaneously! The previously still "ghost fire" started to approach the small building like sharks that had smelled blood, silently but resolutely!

"On your positions!" Rock's voice, cold as ice, shattered the last vestiges of silence in the room. "Prepare for engagement!"