021 Bait

Hearing Captain Sun mention the news about arming civilians, Wang Chen nearly thought he had misheard, and asked in shock, “Arming civilians again? Is the situation really that dire?”

“Just a precaution, don’t overthink it.”

Captain Sun certainly wouldn’t describe in detail to a civilian like Wang Chen what satellite and early warning aircraft remote sensing, engineer wire entanglements, demolition cord trenches, aerial mine-laying, armed drone patrols, multi-spectrum unmanned firepoints, flamethrower robots, and various short-, mid-, and long-range rocket, artillery, and missile ground-to-air integrated defenses were. Soon enough, once the situation stabilized, the matter of clearing zombies would be put on the agenda. In fact, cleanup had already begun, just at a small, pilot scale.

So, Wang Chen and Han Li were truly quite lucky. Had they rashly assumed their whereabouts were exposed and that they’d be silenced after the sanatorium was bombed, returning to the infected zone or wandering in the buffer area, they would have been devoured by zombie hordes or, worse, caught up in one of the pilot “work” clean-up operations. Their bodies wouldn’t even have been left intact.

“Alright, let’s talk later. I’ll teach them how to self-clean first. By the way, Captain Sun, I’ll need you to send a few soldiers for security duty. I’ve already reported the situation, and I expect official security personnel will be assigned soon,” Zhang Han said as he prepared the cleaning equipment.

“No problem, I’ll arrange it right away.” Captain Sun answered readily, but before he could turn, a loud commotion erupted behind him.

“Hey? Who’s in charge here? Hey? What’s up with these two? Why are they being brought into the rescue center’s sterile tent? Are they infected? There are civilians outside—do you realize how risky this is! Are you the instructor? Instructor is nothing—I’m the deputy head of the county armed department! Deputy regiment level! Hey? Are you the captain? I’m talking to you! What, don’t even know how to salute? Captain, what makes you so special? Wearing a dark uniform acting like you’re some big shot!” The harsh, nasal voice shouted behind Captain Sun, full of official arrogance and contempt, igniting anger in those who heard it. Worse yet, the stench of alcohol was nauseating.

Wang Chen swore it was the first time in his life he’d seen someone’s eyes fill with bloodshot rage in an instant. The look alone was enough to convey ‘ferocity’. Clearly, the deputy head had easily stoked Captain Sun’s fury, giving him a channel to vent the grief buried deep in his heart.

“Old Sun! Calm down! Calm…hey?! Don’t!” Instructor Dong realized disaster was imminent, but his warning came too late.

The expected scream didn’t materialize. After Captain Sun delivered a textbook lunging punch to the deputy’s stomach, the man couldn’t even make a sound; the surge of stomach acid blocked his throat. Next, a quick knee strike hit his forehead, and as he vomited upwards, he fainted on the spot.

“Take him out and find a doctor, really careless, falling down here like that,” Captain Sun acted as if he’d done something trivial, waving to his special forces soldiers.

“Old Sun! That was an official—either police or civil affairs, anyway a cadre!” Instructor Dong wanted to scold his old partner, but didn’t know how. He pointed at Captain Sun, gritted his teeth, and jogged after the soldiers, intending to clean up the mess.

As Dong left, three people strolled in at the door. The leader was a middle-aged man of short stature, round face, cropped hair, and smiling, squinting eyes. He didn’t speak upon entering the workshop, but looked around twice, then asked, “Hey? Who’s in charge here?”

As soon as he spoke, everyone in the workshop rolled their eyes, sensing trouble for this newcomer.

Having just vented his anger, Captain Sun couldn’t go around hitting everyone he met, so he didn’t respond, just stared coldly. The newcomer, oblivious, asked again.

Fortunately, Captain Sun’s phone rang at that moment, sparing the visitor.

Zhang Han, seeing Captain Sun leave to answer the call, realized he was now the highest-ranking interrogation specialist from the security department present. He stepped forward, “Me. Panda Bureau forensic specialist, Zhang Han.”

“Oh, you’re Zhang Han. Good, I’m your superior. Here’s my credentials and identification code. Before the situation with these two is clarified, they can’t go to the rear…”

“What do you mean by ‘before the situation with these two is clarified, they can’t go to the rear’? What rear? What situation isn’t clarified? Explain! Right now! Or I’ll report you to the bureau immediately!” Zhang Han erupted. He looked at the unremarkable, balding, beer-bellied man before him—bureaucratic and frustrated like a small-time official—his voice harsh and helpless.

It was understandable for Zhang Han to be angry. His task was to escort Wang Chen and Han Li to the capital research institute, return to his old profession, and finally leave the dangerous zombie epidemic behind. He had served his country and people, faced down cultists and bombs—surely he had done enough. His family was waiting anxiously for his return. He couldn’t be expected to undertake everything alone.

And now, inexplicably, a middle-aged bureaucrat appeared, talking about the dangers posed by Wang Chen and Han Li, refusing to move them to the rear, insisting all pathological and biochemical tests be conducted in the town—which was ridiculous. What testing could be done here? Like the sanatorium before, they would just be detained.

If Wang Chen and Han Li couldn’t leave, neither could Zhang Han. He couldn’t shamelessly request the rear to send someone to replace him—that would be abandoning his post at the last step. Who wouldn’t be anxious?

Worse still, whenever Zhang Han pressed further, the only response was, “Your clearance isn’t high enough; you’ll know when you need to know.”

Had they not both worked in security, and Zhang Han not been able to verify the man’s credentials and code, he’d have suspected the guy was a saboteur sent by an enemy organization to destroy the live samples.

Perhaps feeling guilty for dampening his colleague’s enthusiasm, yet unable to breach professional protocol, the little bureaucrat handed Zhang Han a silver metal card without a name, speaking softly, “It’s just my duty. If you run into trouble, call this number, ask for Zhang Fu.”

Zhang Han was still bewildered as he took the card. Was this guy just going to shove a card at him and call it done? Nonsense! He wanted to retort, but suddenly recalled an old mentor mentioning bureau lore about this name’s abbreviation, and a chill ran down his spine. He pocketed the card, said nothing, and turned away.

Claiming to be Zhang Fu, the bureaucrat watched Zhang Han leave, barely furrowing his brow. He pressed his earpiece and spoke quietly, “Zhang Han has heard of Zhang Fu. Check on him. No, it’s not that serious, just in case.”

---

Zhang Fu released his earpiece. Captain Sun had finished his call and turned to confirm, “You’re Zhang Fu? Let me see your task code.”

After confirming it, Captain Sun too frowned—he hadn’t expected the superior sent by headquarters to look so unimposing, nothing like an official. But orders were orders. He stood at attention and saluted, “Special Forces Battalion! Sun…”

“Oh, Captain Sun, no need to be so formal! Come on, let’s step outside for a smoke and talk in detail,” Zhang Fu interrupted, politely.

Zhang Fu indeed had some skill. Having just suppressed Zhang Han with authority, he now switched to a warm, friendly smile.

One doesn’t strike a smiling face, and Captain Sun’s irritation at outsiders commanding insiders dissipated in the face of Zhang Fu’s geniality. Outside, accepting Zhang Fu’s cigarette and lighting up, he asked, “How should I address you? When headquarters notified me, they didn’t elaborate. I’m not sure what the Special Forces Battalion is needed for?”

“Just call me Zhang Fu. Strictly speaking, I have no administrative rank, so don’t bother with titles. Just Zhang Fu,” he said, not elaborating on his connections—Captain Sun didn’t need to know. He laid it out, “We need to use the two survivors from the sanatorium as bait. Your Special Forces Battalion will handle security and capture operations.”

“Bait?” Captain Sun frowned, showing his composure by waiting for the rest.

“In troubled times, every sort of clown jumps out. Captain Sun, you don’t believe those cultists relying on a few old folks could cause such damage, do you? Or that a few birds, without human involvement, could destroy a sanatorium guarded by military and police?”

“You mean…” Captain Sun’s scalp tingled at the implication. Ordinary civilians might debate such things over drinks, but for an officer of his rank, this was taboo.

“Exactly. We suspect certain domestic and foreign forces colluded to spread the epidemic, at the very least to hinder our vaccine development.”

Captain Sun clenched his fist so tight the cigarette burned his palm, but he didn’t notice. Then he laughed, though the smile was savage.

Zhang Fu wasn’t surprised by Captain Sun’s reaction; he even lamented, “Captain Sun is indeed a man of temperament. Major Cao can rest in peace.”

“You need live captives, correct? From this moment, my men and I are temporarily reassigned under your command, right?” Captain Sun’s words carried hidden meaning.

“Yes.” Zhang Fu caught the nuance, but he didn’t mind. He decided to add some restrictions. “You must ensure the captives remain conscious. Also, keep the surveillance loose but ready; don’t let those clowns sense anything and stay hidden. The rest, I don’t care about.”

Captain Sun relaxed his fist, scattering cigarette crumbs. He smiled and shook Zhang Fu’s hand, nodding, “I understand. You have a friend in me.”

Consciousness and sound limbs were unrelated. As for the PLA’s tradition of treating prisoners kindly, Zhang Fu had already admitted the Special Forces Battalion was now under the security department, not the PLA. As part of a violent agency, military regulations didn’t apply.

“…Why did you hit me? Just because you’re in the military? Special Forces Battalion, so what! I was just doing routine inquiry—why did you strike me! I’ll complain! I’ll sue you! I'll…”

“…Ignore this drunk, Captain Sun,” Zhang Fu said, glancing at his two silent subordinates. “Make sure the man outside shuts up and sobers up.”

“Yes!”

There’s no need to elaborate on how the drunken county deputy head sobered up. Night was falling, but the town was still bustling, with both military and civil personnel working hard. They had plenty to handle—arranging armed units to clear infected zones, setting up temporary defenses in the buffer area—all required manpower, materials, and equipment. The town, situated at a transport hub and with good transfer facilities, was busier than ever.

Meanwhile, Wang Chen and Han Li were oblivious to having become bait. After blood and urine samples were taken, they enjoyed a special meal prepared just for them. Though as live specimens, they couldn’t have rich foods, the simple stir-fry was well made, and the two ‘headless flies’ ate heartily, leaving clean plates.

Not long after dinner, Captain Sun arrived at the sterile tent, carrying a bag, followed by his old partner Instructor Dong and a group of heavily armed, tough-looking Special Forces soldiers.

“Put these on,” Captain Sun said simply, tossing the bag into the tent. “The rest, old Dong will explain in detail.”

Wang Chen was confused, but unzipped the bag anyway. Inside, besides full-body bulletproof vests, there was an Eagle shotgun, two stun guns, and two batons.

“Don’t worry; your shotgun uses rubber bullets. Hitting a vest leaves only a bruise, unless you fire at your own face—that’s suicide. Let me quickly explain how to use these,” Instructor Dong said, seeing Wang Chen eager to fiddle with the shotgun, smiling from outside.

Clearly, bait was one thing; dead bait was another. Though the Special Forces offered overwhelming support, for a cautious commander like Captain Sun, taking precautions was always wise.

Leaving the workshop, Captain Sun met Zhang Fu head-on. He hesitated, then offered a cigarette, lighting it for Zhang Fu. They stood shoulder to shoulder smoking in silence, until the cigarettes were gone. Instructor Dong then exited the workshop, seeing both men simultaneously discard and extinguish their butts. His previously relaxed expression from talking to Wang Chen and Han Li was gone, replaced by a wry smile, “My old partner is straightforward—he’s always looking for something to do, even without tasks. He follows orders strictly, never slackens… but…”

---

“But special personnel like me tend to be secretive. Really, I ought to be open, so you can prepare ahead, right?” Zhang Fu’s head wasn’t for show—it was clear from Captain Sun’s deferential but reserved manner what he and Dong were worried about.

“Exactly. I want to know how news about these two leaked. From confirming their survival to now is only a few hours, and you’re already here arranging a bait operation. Even if you deliberately leaked the info to lure in targets, it shouldn’t have happened so fast, right?”

Zhang Fu sighed inwardly. He couldn’t let them lead confused soldiers into a muddled fight. Besides, his specialty was covert work; on the battlefield, he’d rely on ‘professionals’.

After brief consideration, Zhang Fu decided to lay it all out. He lit another cigarette and spoke directly, “I can be frank and lay out the whole story, but first, let me say: after you hear it, forget it immediately, alright?”

“No problem, go on.”

“Captain Sun, the refugees you brought from Harbin became rare pathogen carriers due to exposure to zombie-contaminated blood. I believe you’re aware of this.”

Captain Sun’s face twitched. Though it wasn’t entirely his fault—even the army doctor hadn’t foreseen that minor exposure to blood could cause infection—he still felt he could have been more careful during the rushed evacuation.

“What you don’t know is that such infected individuals are unique worldwide. We only understood how special this situation was after expert analysis. I can’t explain the academic details, but the carriers’ status depends on climate, temperature, liquid concentration, acidity, and nutrient content—even possibly the famous fertile black soil around Harbin. To replicate the situation and conduct further biological testing and human trials would take a long time. To succeed quickly? Only by risking lives!”

“Damn…” Captain Sun couldn’t help but gasp. He never imagined the two people in the workshop were so ‘precious’.

Before he could speak, Zhang Fu continued, “This mission was deduced from several clues. I won’t elaborate; just know this: since the sanatorium was established, in its airspace—perhaps not all countries, but the five permanent members’ surveillance satellites have monitored it, twenty-four hours a day, without interruption.”

“But…how did they know…” Captain Sun was still puzzled.

Compared to combat command, Instructor Dong was more familiar with logistics. Hearing ‘satellite’, he guessed the answer, saying, “Radios.”

“Radios? Ah!” Captain Sun slapped his forehead. During the Harbin evacuation, civilian and military convoys were mixed, with many civilian vehicles equipped with radios for communication. Unlike military channels, these were unencrypted, all open frequencies, with ranges from five to ten kilometers, some up to fifteen.

That’s just on flat ground. Radio signals spread three-dimensionally, and their effective range isn’t the same as their broadcast range. Even with signal attenuation and cloud cover, Harbin was already a dead city—no radio interference except convoy communications, making detection much easier. Any low-orbit satellite passing over the Harbin infected zone could easily pick up these signals, learning about the unique survivors.

Moreover, anywhere an epidemic breaks out, there will be satellite surveillance. There’s always a “coincidental” foreign satellite overhead.

So the leak started there!

“Yes, the only remedy now is to take advantage of it. Not to hide it from you: in the days before the sanatorium incident, we apprehended fourteen people around the area near the sewage channel—civilians, foreign mercenaries, enemy agents. Two dead, three seriously wounded, all desperate. Those who didn’t show up probably outnumber them threefold.”

“So, if they couldn’t have it, they destroyed it so no one else could,” Dong said through clenched teeth.

Zhang Fu nodded, confirming, “Between nations, it’s all intrigue. If we use special pathogen carriers to develop an effective vaccine ahead of others, the outcome would grant us immense leverage internationally. I’m sure you understand. So…” Zhang Fu indicated the workshop with his chin, “I don’t need to repeat the importance of those two. But don’t worry—when the sanatorium was founded, a few civilians were secretly transferred to the military’s epidemic research institute, and during the explosion, we rescued three from the drainage channel. So I can use these two as bait without worrying about losses.”

Captain Sun was astounded by the complexity.

According to Zhang Fu, countries can’t just launch intercontinental missiles at each other, nor short-range missiles—those would trigger world war. Satellite weapons are similarly off-limits. So these assassination-like missions use only sleeper agents.

It sounds terrifying, but in reality, such missions have a very low success rate. In America, despite movies showing villains wielding AKs and RPGs, in real life, getting military-grade weapons and enough ammo to suppress police or military is extremely difficult. If it were easier, those religious extremists would have wreaked havoc long ago.

In China, where guns are banned and vigilant citizens are ever-watchful, it’s even harder. Getting suitable weapons quickly is almost impossible, and there are no deranged arms dealers colluding with intelligence officers to let terrorists hijack planes.

But now, the situation was changing.