October 17th, 8:15 AM.
When Lu Shen pushed open the door to the safe house, Old Bob's coffee pot was sitting on the electric hot plate in the corner, the coffee at the bottom nearly burnt to a crisp, filling the entire office with a bitter, scorched smell.
But Bob wasn't at his desk, nor was Linda.
The briefing summaries were there... but only two copies, one on Lu Shen's desk and one on Tom's, while the other desks were empty.
Lu Shen set down his briefcase, his gaze calmly sweeping the room.
The door to the Station Chief's office was closed, but light seeped through the crack underneath, indicating more than one person inside...
Lu Shen could hear at least three different pairs of shoes moving across the floor, accompanied by low, rapid voices, the content unclear, punctuated occasionally by the dull thud of something heavy hitting the desk.
Something had happened.
Lu Shen showed no curiosity.
He sat down, turned on the monitor, and pulled up the Sumitomo Bank weekly report he had half-written yesterday, the green cursor blinking after the words "In summary."
Lu Shen began to type.
At 8:40, Tom arrived.
Unlike usual, Tom didn't go to the break room for coffee first but headed straight to his desk, his face a mix of excitement and tension... that peculiar expression intelligence officers have when something big has happened, but they're not supposed to know too much.
Lu Shen caught this expression out of the corner of his eye, but his fingers didn't stop, the keyboard continuing its steady tapping.
Tom sat for about two minutes before he couldn't hold it in any longer.
He slid his chair to the edge of the partition, lowering his voice: "Hey, Lu."
"Yeah?" Lu Shen didn't even lift his head.
"Something happened at the Regent Hotel last night."
Lu Shen's fingers paused on the keyboard... a perfectly timed pause, no more, no less, the normal micro-reaction of a colleague hearing unexpected news.
"What happened?"
Tom glanced around, lowering his voice further: "Someone died in a room. It seems... related to us."
Only then did Lu Shen turn his head, a slight frown on his brow, a moderate surprise in his eyes.
"Related to us? What do you mean?"
"I'm not clear on the details either." Tom shrugged, "But look at the Station Chief's office... the lights were on since a little after five this morning. Bob, Linda, and the operations team, Phil and Jackson, were all called in. I saw Deputy Station Chief Richmond's car parked downstairs when I arrived, that silver-gray Lincoln."
"Richmond?" Lu Shen's tone grew heavier, "Didn't he just fly to Neon for a report last week?"
"Flew back overnight last night." Tom's eyes brightened for a moment but quickly restrained his expression, "In any case, it's not a small matter. People at our level probably won't find out much."
"Then don't ask." Lu Shen turned back, continuing to type, "We'll know when we're supposed to."
"True enough." Tom retreated sheepishly.
Lu Shen's fingers typed out a line of data analysis conclusions, his expression as calm as still water.
But deep in his consciousness, a string quivered lightly.
They had found out.
...
The real fragments of information seeped out bit by bit over the next forty-eight hours.
Intelligence agencies have their own way of disseminating information... Top Secret core content is locked in the Station Chief's office safe, but the peripheral scraps around the core seep out like mercury through the door cracks, spreading along the corridors, gradually taking shape in snippets of conversation in the break room, restroom, and parking lot.
Lu Shen didn't need to deliberately inquire.
He just needed to maintain a normal social frequency... having coffee with colleagues, nodding in the hallway, sitting in his usual spot by the window at lunch... the information would flow to him naturally.
The first fragment came from Old Bob.
On the afternoon of the seventeenth, Bob came out of the Station Chief's office, his face ashen, poured a cup of thoroughly burnt coffee, and downed it in one go, like he was drinking strong liquor.
He paused by Lu Shen's desk, shook his head, and said, "Someone messed up. Made a complete mess."
Then he walked away.
The second fragment came from the administrative secretary, Linda.
Linda was chatting quietly with a young technician from the Communications Unit while waiting at the copier.
Lu Shen happened to walk by to pick up some printed documents and caught half a sentence...
"...Richmond got a real earful, I heard Washington's already issued a transfer order..."
Linda clammed up immediately when she saw Lu Shen approaching, offering an awkward smile.
Lu Shen picked up his documents, nodded politely, and walked away.
The third fragment, and the most crucial one, came from Tom.
On the evening of the eighteenth, just before the end of the workday, Tom slid his chair over again.
This time, his expression was no longer excited but carried a heavy sense of awe.
"I think I know what happened at the Regent." His voice was almost a whisper.
Lu Shen put down his pen, looking at him.
"We had a... contact in Hong Kong." Tom chose his words carefully, "Someone from the other side. Very high level. He brought something, something very important."
Lu Shen nodded slightly, not interrupting.
"But the higher-ups were too cautious." Tom's tone was laced with anger, "Hong Kong is full of people from the other side... Xinhua News Agency's Hong Kong branch, the China Merchants Group, COSCO, China Resources... any sign could be hiding an intelligence team. The higher-ups were worried that rash contact would alert them, causing a diplomatic incident, so they kept waiting. Waiting for the safest window."
He gave a bitter smile.
"But the window never came, and now the person is gone."
Lu Shen's brow slowly furrowed, his expression precisely conveying shock yet controlled.
"Dead?"
"Dead. And everything's gone. The room was turned over, clean and efficient, professional work." Tom paused, lowering his voice another notch, "The higher-ups believe... it was done by the other side. Dragon Nation agents."
Lu Shen was silent for a second.
"Are they sure?"
"Pretty much. Think about it, the body was left sitting openly on the sofa, not moved, not disguised as an accident or suicide, just blatantly displayed. It's..."
"A warning." Lu Shen finished the sentence for him.
Tom nodded heavily, "Exactly. It's a clear message to us... the person you wanted, we've dealt with, the things you wanted, we've taken. Don't even think about it."
Lu Shen was silent for a few seconds, as if digesting the information.
"So what do the higher-ups plan to do?"
"What can they do?" Tom spread his hands, "The person's dead, the things are gone, CIA doesn't even have a chance to clean up the mess. I heard they sent people to check the hotel, the room was as clean as if it had been professionally sanitized... no fingerprints, no hair, no fiber traces, all valuable items taken."
He sighed.
"Richmond flew back to Washington this afternoon, Phil and Jackson are leaving tomorrow. I heard Langley Headquarters is furious, the entire line responsible for this is going to be purged... at least three mid-to-high level positions are going to be replaced."
"In intelligence work," Lu Shen said quietly, "hesitation is the greatest mistake."
"Isn't it just." Tom shook his head with a bitter smile, retreating to his desk.
The safe house returned to its usual quiet, only the sound of keyboard tapping and the airflow in the air conditioning ducts.
Lu Shen continued typing his weekly report.
His fingers fell on the keyboard, the rhythm steady and even.
But behind those dancing green characters, deep within that calm facade, a breath was silently releasing from the depths of his chest.
A breath he had been holding since the morning of October 16th.