Chapter 1059 - The Elite Unit

Huang Ande was merely one of several agents deployed to Dengzhou, but his work had proven the most effective. Beyond him, Chen Sigen controlled a network of other intelligence operatives through single-line communication channels. They were positioned both within Dengzhou City proper and inside the naval citadel. Each agent carried a walkie-talkie. Through relay via a covert signal station outside the city walls, messages could reach Chen Sigen with remarkable speed.

Though stationed on a ship more than a dozen nautical miles from Dengzhou, Chen Sigen knew every significant development inside the city with perfect clarity.

According to historical intelligence from the Grand Library, Sun Yuanhua would be captured within Dengzhou itself. Consequently, intelligence assets had been concentrated primarily inside Dengzhou City. As a precaution against possible errors in the historical record, some personnel had also been deployed to lie low within the Penglai naval citadel.

The deployment of intelligence agents into Dengzhou and the Penglai citadel had initially met opposition from certain quarters. No one could guarantee the agents' safety amid the coming chaos. If an agent died, their walkie-talkie would be irretrievably lost—recovering such equipment after a war would be virtually impossible.

But Chen Sigen believed this mindset—refusing to take risks because something might be lost—was fundamentally flawed. A few walkie-talkies were certainly valuable, but in the context of the entire Dengzhou operation, they were insignificant.

"If you're afraid of everything, then even the Special Reconnaissance Team shouldn't be deployed," Chen Sigen had argued with casual nonchalance. "What if they take our weapons and run? What if they're killed and the weapons can't be recovered? That kind of thinking would drive you to despair."

Zhu Mingxia had nodded. "You make a fair point. Still, we should exercise caution where possible. If any restricted equipment gets lost, the review hearing back home will be unpleasant enough."

"Don't worry," Chen Sigen assured him. "I've arranged concealment spots for everyone. Each of them has a hiding location in their area. Given a few months, they could even excavate a proper basement."

Zhu Mingxia glanced outside—the sky was beginning to lighten. He checked his watch. "It is now the early morning hours of the third day of the first month, the fifth year of Chongzhen. Dengzhou falls today."

Chen Sigen said nothing, merely gazing in silence at the simple sand table of Dengzhou and the Penglai citadel that had just been assembled. On Qimu Island, he possessed a much larger and more detailed version. Intelligence personnel had spent months conducting covert surveys inside both cities. He had led his men through countless sand-table exercises. This simplified version served only for the final mission briefing.

For Chen Sigen, the mission was daunting. He had been a fitness instructor by trade, originally knowing nothing about special operations. Everything he knew had been taught to him piece by piece by Xue Ziliang. Yet this would be his first time truly commanding an operation independently—and a rescue mission at that.

Chen Sigen had once argued that Xue Ziliang should be recalled from Jeju Island to Shandong to personally direct the combat operation. But Zhu Mingxia had opposed this. Since the Engine Command had transferred Xue Ziliang to Jeju Island, the forward command should not interfere with headquarters' decisions.

"The higher-ups have their reasons for making such decisions. We just need to execute faithfully," Zhu Mingxia had encouraged him. "You think you can't butcher a pig without Zhang the butcher? Relax—his methods are far too advanced anyway. Even learning a fraction of his techniques would be more than sufficient."

Even so, when formulating the operational plan, they had communicated extensively with Xue Ziliang on Jeju Island via ship and encrypted radio.

At 6 AM, the radio duty officer reported: a new message had arrived from Dengzhou.

During the night, the rebels had attempted to storm the city but had been repelled by the Red Barbarian cannons on the walls. This morning, several hundred stragglers from Zhang Tao's defeated force had arrived at the gates requesting entry. The responsible officials were currently debating. The gentry and certain officials inside the city adamantly opposed admitting the routed troops. The Liaodong soldiers inside and the routed soldiers outside were clamoring together. The situation showed signs of spiraling out of control.

Chen Sigen knew that historically, Sun Yuanhua and the other "responsible officials" had ultimately agreed to admit the stragglers—reputedly the principal reason Dengzhou fell so quickly. From the perspective of the time, it was clearly a catastrophic blunder.

But Chen Sigen believed that, viewed from another angle, Sun Yuanhua's choice was not entirely incomprehensible.

"Sun Yuanhua probably wasn't unaware that admitting the stragglers could cause serious problems," Chen Sigen said, studying the dispatch. "But given his current situation, he had no other options. If he flatly refused, the Liaodong people inside would likely riot first."

Sun Yuanhua's ability to maintain control over Dengzhou's military and civilians rested on two pillars: Zhang Keda's Southern troops and his own prestige among the Liaodong population. The former had now effectively ceased to exist as a fighting force. All he could do was attempt to appease and ingratiate himself with the Liaodong faction—he truly had no other choice.

If he adamantly refused to admit the stragglers, Dengzhou's fall might advance from that evening to that very morning. Judging by his performance, Sun Yuanhua was not a skilled enough official to firmly control an army.

"Your analysis makes sense," Zhu Mingxia agreed. "Sun Yuanhua has always striven to win over the Eastern River veterans, hoping to employ them for his own purposes. Who could have imagined he would ultimately perish at their hands? The Great Ming itself was indirectly destroyed by these very people. Truly lamentable."

The two fell silent for a long moment. Then Chen Sigen rose. "Let's begin."

"Very well."

Minutes later, the members of Chen Sigen's detachment, who had been on standby, filed into the command tent. Every one of them was a capable, hardened young man. Their heads were shaved clean, and they wore cotton training uniforms from the Lingao garment factory—not the stand-collar Year One pattern, nor the open-collar Year Two design, nor the woolen winter gear issued to the Northern Expedition Brigade. The style was modeled loosely on American BDU—though only loosely; it did not even reach civilian replica standards. On each arm was emblazoned the Special Reconnaissance Team command patch and service year insignia.

The distinctive uniforms instilled in these young men a powerful sense of superiority. As members of an elite unit, this sense of superiority was a crucial wellspring of strength that sustained them through grueling training and tedious combat readiness duty. Xue Ziliang had specifically recommended this approach. Weapons, uniforms, insignia, rations, pay—everything was different, several times or even dozens of times better than the regular army and navy. They understood clearly that their performance had to be dozens of times superior as well.

The men knew nothing about the impending operation. They moved on pure conditioned reflex. Rumors about where they would go and what targets they would strike had circulated privately. Over months, they had constantly familiarized themselves with the terrain of Dengzhou, Penglai citadel, Laizhou, Qingzhou, and other locations, conducting countless map and sand-table exercises. Mission categories ranged from assassination, kidnapping, and rescue to reconnaissance and sabotage. They had executed more than a dozen reconnaissance missions in preparation. Yet not one of them knew the actual target.

But everyone understood that clarification would come only with the mission briefing about to be delivered. The air seemed charged with gunpowder and testosterone. The occasional exchanged glances crackled with electric intensity. One thing had already been confirmed: the operation bore a codename—"Treasure Hunt."

Inside the large tent, the brain and nerve center of the entire operation—the command center—had been established. A simple sand table occupied the center. A map table covered with glass lay nearby, displaying large-scale maps. Display boards on the walls were pinned with floor plans, three-dimensional structure diagrams, photographs, and other materials of the target area.

Some of these images had been provided by Foreign Intelligence Bureau agents; others had been obtained by Special Reconnaissance Team members during prior operations. After processing by the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, they had become systematically organized, highly readable intelligence materials.

Every Special Reconnaissance Team member had started as an illiterate. But years of intensive, high-density training and study—especially the nearly constant guidance from Exemplar officers—had given them cultural knowledge and combat awareness generally superior to ordinary naturalized officers. Each was an elite among elites.

As pioneers and supreme practitioners of special operations in this timeline, the Special Reconnaissance Team employed a detachment system with four-man basic units, also called "four-man assault groups." This was the standard structure for special operations units worldwide in the 21st century.

Each squad leader held the rank of senior sergeant—all team members were corporals—with the "Special Reconnaissance" prefix distinguishing them from ordinary Bravery Wave Army and Navy non-commissioned officers.

The twenty members of Chen Sigen's detachment brought to Dazhushan Island were now all present. Chen Sigen stepped to the front of the formation.

As commander, delivering the situation briefing was his responsibility. But this was his first time truly commanding a major assault operation, and he betrayed just a hint of nervousness. "Attention! Many of you clever ones may have already guessed our destination—infiltration into Dengzhou City. Let me emphasize: infiltration does not mean sightseeing, as you have done many times before. This mission is not reconnaissance. It is rescue." He paused, then raised his voice slightly—giving himself a few seconds to steady his nerves. "Repeat: this is not a drill."

"According to intelligence and our gathered materials, Dengzhou and the Penglai citadel will very likely fall today." Chen Sigen scanned the assembled men. "Therefore, we will infiltrate Dengzhou City and rescue Sun Yuanhua from the rebels. You know who Sun Yuanhua is."

"The assault will take place inside Dengzhou City. Estimated locations are either the Dengzhou Governor's office or the Wanghai Tower in the Penglai citadel. We are still awaiting detailed intelligence. The operation will commence tomorrow before dawn—in the darkest hours before first light."

"Your mission is simple: under the reception of local intelligence personnel, infiltrate the location where Sun Yuanhua is being held, use force to rescue him, and safely extract him."

(End of Chapter)