The Pyongyang Directive
Late at night, Pyongyang.
Deep within the Kumsusan Palace of the Sun lies a command center never marked on any floor plan. The walls are made of thick sound-absorbing material, and a huge electronic map almost covers the entire main wall, flashing with colorful dots and constantly scrolling data streams. The air is filled with the extremely faint hum unique to the operation of sophisticated electronic equipment, as well as a cool, almost sterile atmosphere.
Golden Sun sat on a large, simple black chair, dressed in a common dark-colored People's Daily uniform, with the collar buttoned up meticulously.
The control panel in front of him was as smooth as a mirror, with only a few essential touch interfaces gleaming with a faint blue light. His gaze calmly fell on a certain area of the electronic map— Southeast Asia, Northern Myanmar, a coordinate point that was highlighted.
Several small windows floated nearby, displaying supplementary information provided by Lin Feng and quickly verified by his intelligence channels: the general layout of the park, an assessment of the guard force, the surrounding terrain, and a schematic diagram of the core building structure where the target codenamed "K" might be detained.
There were no flashing lights, no noise. In the command center, besides him, there were only three officers in military uniforms with shoulder insignia indicating extremely high ranks standing solemnly behind the control console, like frozen sculptures, even their breathing was extremely low, their eyes were lowered to the ground, and they dared not look directly ahead.
Golden Sun's gaze lingered on the coordinates in Northern Myanmar for a moment, then his fingertip lightly tapped the smooth surface of the console. A tiny, encrypted communication interface, requiring special permissions to activate, silently popped up.
He didn't turn his head; his voice rang out in the silent command center, not loud, but every word carried immense weight, as clear as if striking the listener's eardrums directly.
"Activate the ' Spark ' emergency response procedure. Target: Northern Myanmar, xx region, coordinates marked. Mission priority: highest."
Standing on the far right, the General Intelligence Bureau in charge of overseas operations straightened his posture even more, his head slightly lowered. "Yes, sir!"
"Mission Objective: Infiltrate, control, and facilitate the safe evacuation of the technician codenamed 'K.' He is one of ours and must be unharmed." Golden Sun spoke calmly, without any emotional fluctuation, as if stating tomorrow's weather. "Operational Guidelines: Initial infiltration must be silent, blending seamlessly into the environment. If obstruction is encountered during the evacuation or rendezvous phase, all necessary means are permitted to eliminate the threat, including swift and decisive strikes. The ultimate objective is personnel safety; the secondary objective is to obtain as much valuable intelligence and assets as possible from the base; and the tertiary objective is to create chaos and divert attention."
"Understood! Personnel safety is the top priority!" the lieutenant general replied again.
"Personnel selection," Golden Sun's gaze swept over the other two officers, "Select the most elite, best-versed in disguise, and most experienced comrades from the long-term undercover teams targeting China and Southeast Asia. For the disguised identities... use China illegal immigrants or job seekers seeking illegal overseas work as models. Identity background, language habits, and behavioral details must be flawless. You are fully responsible for the screening and background matching." He looked at the major general in charge of foreign intelligence forgery and identity support.
"Yes, sir! Mission accomplished! Personnel selection and identity verification completed within 72 hours!" The major general's voice was resolute.
"Command of operations," Golden Sun said, turning finally to the general standing in the middle, responsible for special operations, "Supreme command on-site is granted to the leader of the first batch of infiltration personnel. He is permitted to make decisions based on the actual situation. The rear will only provide necessary intelligence support and final coordination, without micro-intervention. Remember, what we want is results, the safe return of Comrade 'K,' not a performance based on a pre-arranged plan."
"Yes, sir! Ensure that comrades at the front have full autonomy in decision-making! Provide full support from the rear!" The general solemnly accepted the order.
Golden Sun nodded slightly, then tapped his finger again, sending a top-secret instruction package containing detailed coordinates, target characteristics, an action plan, and a one-time encrypted identification code to the control terminals in front of the three officers via three independent physically isolated lines.
"Instructions have been issued. All parties confirm and execute."
"Yes! We will complete the mission to the death!" the three generals shouted in unison, clenching their right fists and placing them on their left chests over their hearts, giving a concise yet powerful military salute. Then, they swiftly but steadily returned to their control terminals, began verifying the instructions, and initiated their respective assigned tasks.
Golden Sun stopped looking at them and turned his gaze back to the flashing coordinates of Northern Myanmar on the electronic map. His expression remained calm and unwavering, as if what he had just issued was not a cross-border rescue order that could stir up a bloodbath or even cause subtle ripples on the international stage, but merely a routine administrative approval.
A few seconds later, the three generals completed the confirmation of the order and the initial deployment almost simultaneously. The terminal screen that received the original order first flashed twice, and the action order that had just been printed out for final written confirmation was sent to a special shredder next to it with a flashing red warning light.
Amidst a low hum, the paper bearing the codename "Spark," along with any remaining digital traces, was physically swallowed up, turning into unrecoverable fragments.
Inside the command center, only the faint glow of electronic equipment and a tense, taut silence, like a fully drawn bowstring, remained. The operation had already begun its countdown in a dimension unknown to anyone.
Golden Sun slowly leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, as if to rest. Only the slightly pursed corners of his lips betrayed a barely perceptible hint of the coldness and decisiveness of an absolute ruler.