"Airport crisis triggered by touching a stone" Chapter 8
The target was a top-tier intelligence operative.
The battlefield was the antique circle, with which we were unfamiliar.
"So what is our mission?" asked the girl codenamed "Chessboard."
"In one week, there will be a private antique auction at 'Jubao Pavilion' in the western part of the city."
"We have received information that 'Gardener' will attend."
"Furthermore, he will use one of the auction items to transmit core data regarding our country’s latest chip technology."
"If that data leaks, the consequences would be unimaginable."
"Your mission is to infiltrate this auction."
"First, identify the antique acting as the intelligence carrier."
"Second, intercept the intelligence without alerting 'Gardener'."
"Third, uncover his contact—the person who will act as the go-between."
"Do you understand?"
"Understood!" the five of us answered in unison.
"Very good." Director Chen nodded.
"For this operation, 'Chessboard' will serve as the temporary commander."
"'Ghost' is responsible for preliminary infiltration and on-site support."
"'Know-It-All' is responsible for providing background knowledge and identification related to the antiques."
"'Polygraph' is responsible for vetting suspicious individuals on-site."
Finally, his gaze landed on me.
"'Antenna'."
"Your task is the most critical, and the most dangerous."
"You need to find an opportunity to come into contact with those key auction items."
"Using your ability, identify which one is the true 'token'."
I felt immense pressure.
But also an unprecedented excitement.
This was a real operation.
A true war without gunpowder.
Over the next week.
We began frantic preparations.
"Chessboard" formulated a detailed operational plan, precise to the minute.
"Ghost" used some unknown method to obtain the internal blueprints and security deployment of the auction.
"Know-It-All" crammed us all with knowledge on antique appraisal.
From porcelain to jade, from calligraphy and paintings to bronzes.
"Polygraph" memorized all the known participant data until it was second nature.
And I, under Instructor Yan’s guidance, conducted final adaptability training.
He brought many antique replicas made of different materials.
Jade, wood carvings, porcelain, metal.
He had me feel the differences in information-carrying capacity between materials.
I discovered that objects with higher density, such as jade and metal, have a stronger capacity to carry memory and emotion.
While objects like wood and ceramics have relatively blurred information.
This was crucial for me in screening the target.
On the night of the operation.
The five of us took on brand new identities.
"Chessboard" and I were a wealthy merchant couple from Hong Kong, here to bid on collectibles.
"Polygraph" and "Know-It-All" were our appraiser and assistant.
"Ghost," meanwhile, had mixed into Jubao Pavilion a day early, posing as security personnel.
We arrived at the entrance of Jubao Pavilion in a Rolls-Royce.
This was a retro-style quadrangle courtyard, heavily guarded.
After presenting our invitation, we entered smoothly.
Inside the auction hall, there weren't many people, but those present were rich and noble.
Silk-clad figures, clinking glasses.
On the surface, it was peaceful.
But I could feel the air permeated with tension and greed.
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I quickly found our target in the crowd.
"Gardener," Philip Jones.
He was holding a glass of champagne, chatting and laughing with a collector.
He looked like a true, elegant reporter.
But my intuition told me.
This man was extremely dangerous.
Like a viper lurking in the dark.
The auction began.
One precious antique after another was presented.
The atmosphere at the scene grew more and more heated.
Our hearts were all in our throats.
According to the plan, during the auction's intermission.
VIPs could enter the exhibition hall behind the scenes to appraise the upcoming lots up close.
That would be my only opportunity.
Chapter 16
The intermission had arrived.
The well-dressed guests stood up in twos and threes.
Their faces carried the polite smiles of networking or the vexation of losing a bid.
The auctioneer announced in his magnetic voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have prepared refreshments for you."
"At the same time, the back exhibition hall is now open."
"You are welcome to preview the exquisite pieces coming up in the second half."
The opportunity had arrived.
The people at our table adjusted their posture almost simultaneously.
"Chessboard," playing the role of a wealthy socialite, elegantly draped her arm around mine.
"Darling, let's go take a look."
Her voice was soft, yet loud enough for those around us to hear.
Her gentle, melodic tone, carrying a hint of a southern accent, suited her persona perfectly.
I nodded, playing the role of a man of few words, a wealthy merchant completely doting on his wife.
"Polygraph" and "Know-It-All" followed behind us like two dutiful attendants.
We walked toward the back exhibition hall, following the flow of the crowd.
I scanned the position of "Gardener" with the corner of my eye.
He had stood up as well.
He was smiling and chatting with someone who looked like an event organizer.
Then, he started walking toward the exhibition hall as well.
His pace was leisurely and steady.
The distance of each step seemed measured by a ruler.
It was a habit only those with long-term, rigorous training would possess.
He was not alone.
Not far behind him followed a woman.
She wore a black evening gown and was very inconspicuous.
But "Polygraph's" voice was already sounding in my earpiece.
"Keep an eye on that woman in black."
"Heart rate 65, breathing steady, eye movement frequency is 1.5 times that of an average person."
"She is on guard."
"She is 'Gardener's' sentry."
We walked into the exhibition hall.
It was smaller than the outer hall but far more luxurious.
All the auction lots were displayed in glass cabinets with constant temperature and humidity.
Lights shone from different angles, making every antique gleam brilliantly.
Guests wove through the display cases.
Exclamations of wonder echoed throughout.
Security personnel stood in every corner, their eyes blazing like torches.
I saw "Ghost."
He was wearing a crisp security uniform, standing in an inconspicuous corner.
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He blended in perfectly with his surroundings.
He seemed to sense my gaze but gave no response.
"Gardener" had also entered.
He wasn't in a hurry to look at the lots.
Instead, he picked up a glass of red wine offered by a waiter and sipped it slowly.
His eyes, however, scanned the entire exhibition hall like radar.
He was very cautious.
"Know-It-All" lowered his voice beside us, introducing items rapidly.
"On the left, that’s a Ming Dynasty Chenghua doucai chicken cup. It’s a replica, but a very good one."
"Directly ahead, the Qing Dynasty Qianlong pastel rotating vase—that one is authentic and worth a fortune."
"Our target is in Zone 3, the furthest one in."
"There are twelve lots in total: three porcelain pieces, four jade pieces, two paintings, and a set of scholarly four treasures."
"Chessboard" held onto me, and we walked toward Zone 3 nonchalantly.
We pretended to be very interested in a large Yuan Dynasty blue and white jar.
We stopped in front of the display cabinet.
"Know-It-All" began explaining with great seriousness.
"Look at this Yuan blue and white, the color is deep and heavy, the characteristics of the imported cobalt are very clear..."
He spoke with great authority.
It drew several other collectors nearby to lean in and take a look.
"Gardener's" gaze flickered toward our side as well.
But he quickly looked away.
Our cover was holding up well.
"Polygraph's" voice sounded again.
"Gardener is moving closer to us."
"The woman in black behind him has gone to the hall's monitoring room."
The situation began to grow tense.
"Ghost, get ready," "Chessboard" said silently, moving her lips.
On the other side of the exhibition hall, a sudden cry of surprise rang out.
A waiter seemed to have accidentally spilled champagne from his tray onto a lady's dress.
The lady shrieked.
In an instant, everyone's attention was drawn away.
Including the few security guards standing in the corners.
Now is the time!
"Ghost's" figure flashed like a phantom toward the master control box for Zone 3.
His fingers operated rapidly for a few moments.
Every display cabinet in Zone 3 emitted a soft "beep."
The electronic locks were disengaged for a fleeting three seconds.
"Know-It-All" immediately pulled open the display cabinet in front of us.
"Boss, look at the patina on this jade disc."
He reached in as a matter of course.
My heart jumped into my throat.
My hand reached in as well.
To everyone else, we were appraising the items up close.
My fingertips quickly brushed over every item in the cabinet.
The jade disc.
Ice-cold and smooth.
I saw the silence of it sleeping in an ancient tomb for a thousand years.
A bronze goblet.
Somber and heavy.
I seemed to hear the blaring of horns from Shang Dynasty sacrificial rites.
A painting by Tang Bohu.
Elegant and free-spirited.
I felt the uninhibited spirit of that talented romantic.
None of these were it.
These items were all "clean."
They only carried history.
They didn't carry secrets.
My fingers touched the last set of items.
The set of scholarly four treasures.
Brush, ink, paper, inkstone.
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