Chapter 36: The Foreign Intelligence Bureau

After a week of investigation, the other two candidates were quickly eliminated. One person’s consumption records showed that he drank rum at the cafe every day, often finishing his daily quota, and according to people around him, he would hold forth on politics and point fingers at the world whenever he drank. He had even had a few drunken outbursts. Such a person was immediately disqualified. The other candidate had average scores in all aspects but had no management experience. When Ming Lang interviewed him, he found that all his intelligence concepts came from spy novels like 007, full of fantasy.

The remaining candidate was Jiang Shan. His personal file was very long. After reading it, Dai Xie, the representative of the Central Government Council, snorted, “This is simply the standard version of an elite.” Dai Xie was an old hand from Ma Qianzhu’s Planning Committee, and when the Planning Committee was reformed into the Planning Committee, he was transferred to the Central Government Council.

The file was impressive: Jiang Shan, 33 years old, Master’s in Psychology (Social Psychology), Master’s in Economic Management (Business Administration), Bachelor’s in Medicine (Bioengineering). From a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners (knew a little about pulse diagnosis and prescribing), two years of marketing experience at IBM, six years of experience in engineering/business/planning/investment at a state-owned power enterprise, had served as the project manager for a large-scale single wind power project… from a paratrooper family, proficient in light arms shooting and combat skills.

“I think he is relatively suitable,” Ming Lang said. “Being the director of this bureau is mainly about intelligence analysis and administrative management. From his professional and career background, he has great development potential.”

His secret appraisal indicated that he was gentle but tenacious, outwardly soft but inwardly firm, with a calm and meticulous mind. Generally speaking, he was a suitable candidate for a leader.

His financial records were also very clean. The records showed that he rarely went to the cafe to drink, and his monthly circulation vouchers were only used to buy extra meals at the cafeteria. He didn’t smoke at all.

The public opinion was that he was very willing to communicate with others but never commented on current affairs.

“Comrade Jiang Shan is here,” the female clerk announced to him. Then he saw the man he had seen countless times in photos walk in. 178cm tall, 63kg in weight, the man had a very well-proportioned, athletic build with broad shoulders and long legs, looking very healthy. His hair was cut extremely short. He looked shrewd and capable.

Ming Lang thought that if it weren’t for his round, baby face, which looked too delicate, he could have been a model for the “pure Huaxia man” under the “New Huaxia Order.”

“Hello, Comrade Ming Lang!” The visitor greeted him cheerfully with a comfortable and bright smile. He was wearing a neatly ironed training uniform, without a speck of mud, and exuded a smell of disinfectant—he was currently working in the Ministry of Public Health’s laboratory as a member of the vaccine research and development team.

“Hello, please sit down.” He half-rose from his seat.

“The air here is really nice,” Jiang Shan said, looking around the office with a look of sincere admiration.

“Not at all, not at all. You get assigned wherever the office is,” Ming Lang said.

He coughed. “I am entrusted by the Executive Committee and the Yuanlaoyuan to announce to you—” he put down the file in his hand, “I won’t read the official document. I am here to inform you that you are now the Deputy Director of the Foreign Intelligence Bureau—but you are the acting Deputy Director.”

“Thank you to the Executive Committee and the Yuanlaoyuan for their trust in me,” his face showed a genuine excitement. “Of course, I also have to thank you…”

“No, this has nothing to do with me,” Ming Lang quickly denied. “We handled it according to the organizational process.”

“Yes, yes.” Jiang Shan said a few more compliments, which imperceptibly brought the two of them closer. It was clear that this person had done some homework on Ming Lang—he had a clear understanding of his family’s situation.

“Not at all, not at all, you flatter me,” Ming Lang nodded, smiling politely, thinking to himself, “I’ve seen many people like you: you seem very easy to get along with, but in reality, you are very deep. Easy to meet, but hard to know well.” “Of course, there is still a 7-day public announcement period for your appointment. But since the appointment has been approved by the Yuanlaoyuan, the public announcement is basically just a formality.”

A few hours later, Jiang Shan was in his own office. The Foreign Intelligence Bureau was a very shabby organization—the so-called Intelligence Committee in the past was actually just a liaison meeting body, with personnel from various external departments regularly participating in exchanges and summaries. Most of the clerical work was done by the Political Security General Bureau. Now that a separate department had been established, the personnel from all other institutions were withdrawn. Jiang Shan became a commander without an army.

The Foreign Intelligence Bureau didn’t even have its own independent compound; he was only given a small two-story building. The rooms were filled with file boxes transferred from other departments, sealed with strips of paper. The most confidential part had not yet been delivered; he would need to retrieve it from various departments later.

Jiang Shan chose an office. He believed that as the acting deputy director, he had this right. The office was at the end of the corridor on the second floor. The location was ideal, but the area was a bit large. He thought he could partition off a meeting room, which would be enough for meetings.

The office only had a standard desk and a chair. This was the standard configuration. If he needed an “upgraded configuration,” he would have to write a request to the General Office.

“No hurry to get things now,” Jiang Shan thought. The General Office would help him with the desks, chairs, and furniture in the office. His first consideration was manpower and organizational structure. As the saying goes, “The main thing about work is personnel arrangements.”

Jiang Shan had never done intelligence work before, but here everyone was starting from scratch, from nothing. What’s more, there was a powerful database for him to refer to. No matter how he configured it, it wouldn’t be worse than the one in this era.

He sorted out his thoughts and spread a blank sheet of paper on the table. To do anything, the first thing is to know your goals and positioning. The intelligence department is a powerful department, an important component of a regime, but its status within the “important” government departments can be large or small.

Leaving aside giants like the CIA, the Red Army’s Main Intelligence Directorate, and MI5, where did the foreign intelligence agency of the Lingao regime stand? Or rather, where were the future “enemies”?

Jiang Shan knew very well that there were no friends in intelligence work. It was not uncommon for “friends” to plant spies on each other in this line of work. Not to mention the French, who were known for being two-faced, even the most loyal ally of the Americans, the most devoted British maid, would not give up on placing intelligence personnel in the United States.

Who were the enemies of the transmigrator group? He first drew a flag on the white paper and wrote “Ming” on it; this was the Great Ming. Then he drew several anchors and wrote “Liu,” “Zheng,” and “Li” with arrows; the third thing he drew was a head with a queue—this was the Later Jin. Then he drew several three-masted ships with different flags: British, Spanish, and Dutch. After a moment of thought, he finally drew a minority-style headdress; this was the local Li and Miao people.

First, the Great Ming. There was no doubt that although the Great Ming’s national strength was declining, in terms of territory, population, and economic strength, it was still the number one opponent of the transmigrator group, and the most dangerous one. If the Great Ming got serious and dealt with the Lingao regime with the same level of importance as they dealt with the Later Jin, they would face a huge crisis.

Fortunately, the internal strife of the Great Ming was very serious. Its energy was mainly consumed by internal friction, coupled with its tragic financial situation. Unless Chongzhen directly paid attention to the Hainan battlefield, they would not face too great a challenge.

Since the Great Ming was the main source of population and materials for the transmigrator group, and also the key target of the transmigrator group’s infiltration, the Great Ming was obviously the key intelligence target of the transmigrator group. He drew a “1” on the Great Ming.

The intelligence work on the Great Ming already had a considerable foundation, especially the work of the Guangzhou Station and the Leizhou Station. The Guangzhou Station controlled the central activities of the entire Guangdong province, and the Leizhou Station provided the possibility of early warning for a large-scale land and sea attack on Lingao by the Great Ming.

Unfortunately, behind the Guangzhou and Leizhou stations was the shadow of the Commerce Department. From the Executive Committee’s point of view, the main focus of these two stations in the future would still be trade, not intelligence work.

However, their existence provided a very good foundation for intelligence work. The Guangzhou Station’s penetration of the Guangdong central government was very effective, and by controlling the Qiwei Escort Agency, they had gradually penetrated many areas of Guangdong and neighboring provinces. With their support, the penetration of intelligence personnel could go deeper.

The Later Jin. They currently had no conflict of interest with the transmigrator group. After Li Luoyou’s visit, the Later Jin might become a trading partner of the transmigrator group, but that was it. The Later Jin was considered a border threat by the Great Ming, but it was not worth mentioning to Lingao. This regime was a small, local bandit-style regime built on extreme internal oppression and reliance on external plunder. It posed no threat to the transmigrator group in the near future. In the long term, it would be a piece of cake for the transmigrator group to eliminate it. Intelligence activities against the Later Jin could be put last. He wrote a “5.”

The pirates and sea merchants on the coast of South China, represented by “Liu,” “Zheng,” and “Li,” were now at the peak of their power. Zheng Zhilong was wealthy and powerful, the biggest threat to the transmigrator group at sea. Fortunately, he was tied down by Li Kuiqi, so he posed no immediate threat to the transmigrator group, only a potential one.

Liu Xiang was the most direct maritime threat to the transmigrator group. And he had colluded with the Spanish and had already attacked Lingao and suffered a loss. It was not an exaggeration to say that he held a grudge.

Jiang Shan drew a “2” on the character “Liu.”

Spain, the Netherlands, Portugal, and England. These were the four main foreign powers on the seas of East and Southeast Asia. The British had the smallest presence in Southeast Asia, with only trading posts in India and Siam. Their strength was not strong, and they had already established trade relations with the transmigrator group. They were not a priority for now.

The Spanish and Portuguese were under the banner of one king, but they had their own plans. Their power on the coast of China was not large, and they did not have much ambition. They just wanted to protect their own interests. They would not pose a major threat to the transmigrator group. And the transmigrator group did not want to attack Macau or Manila for the time being. The former was Europe’s gateway to China, and the latter was the transit point for silver imports. The Yuanlaoyuan believed it was better to let them continue to exist for now.

Jiang Shan believed that the Dutch were the most dangerous of the four foreign powers. This was not only because the Dutch had the strongest power in Southeast Asia, but also because they were the most active and aggressive. If the Spanish plan to conquer China was just a dream, then the Dutch had really considered this issue. He knew that the Dutch had launched an expedition to the coast of China in 1622 with the real intention of occupying a colony on the coast of China. It was only later that they found China to be too large to achieve this goal and withdrew from Penghu to Taiwan.

As for the local Li and Miao people on the island, Jiang Shan put them last: their strength was limited, and there were already two corresponding departments responsible for them. Both the Religious Affairs Office and the Li and Miao Affairs Office had done a lot of work on the Li and Miao people. There was no need for him to get involved. At most, he would do intelligence summary and analysis work.

After setting the priorities, he began to write the organizational structure—this was to be submitted to the Organization Department for review tomorrow. After much consideration, Jiang Shan decided to first establish the Intelligence Analysis Department—intelligence work is first and foremost about analyzing open-source intelligence. This was no different in the 21st century than in the 17th century. Most intelligence could be obtained from open channels. The transmigrator group did not need to know the emperor’s comments on memorials. Under the productivity conditions of the ancient times, any measure taken by the government could be quickly seen from the operation of the bureaucracy.

The plan he finally submitted had a total of five departments: the First Department was the Domestic Department, specializing in the Ming government; the Second Department—the Overseas Department, targeting the Spanish, Dutch, Portuguese, and British forces, with more to be added if necessary in the future; the Third Department was responsible for unclassified forces, currently mainly targeting the pirates and sea merchants on the coast of China, and also including future forces like Li Zicheng; the Intelligence Analysis Department, specializing in analyzing and summarizing collected intelligence; and the Support Department, responsible for providing various support for intelligence activities.

In addition, an office was established to be responsible for all administrative, personnel, and archival work, as well as coordination. Considering the existence of cross-organizational institutions like Guangzhou and Leizhou, the cross-departmental coordination work would certainly be very heavy.

His organizational plan was quickly approved, except for the Support Department. The Executive Committee believed that the Foreign Intelligence Bureau could rely on the support of other departments for its activities, such as relying on the Ministry of Commerce in the Great Ming, and could call on the Special Reconnaissance Team if force was needed. Jiang Shan knew that there was no need to argue on this issue. In the past, there were too many council members without positions; now, there were clearly too few.

He recruited his first council member. This person’s name was Wang Ding. As if to contrast with him, this person was 30 years old, about 1.6 meters tall, with a common face that would be lost in a crowd. But Jiang Shan felt that this person had an advantage in intelligence work—first, he didn’t talk much, and second, his appearance was not conspicuous.

Moreover, he had worked as a handyman in a certain powerful department. Even if he hadn’t eaten pork, he had seen a pig run. He was very knowledgeable about intelligence analysis and had his own opinions.

Wang Ding couldn’t make a name for himself in Lingao. Seeing how well Chang Shide was doing after being sent abroad, he began to have the idea of becoming an overseas intelligence officer.

“I think you’d better stay in the agency and be the director of the Intelligence Analysis Department,” Jiang Shan told him.

“But I’d rather be sent abroad, to places like Jiangnan, to serve the organization…” Wang Ding had long had this intention. To set up a small business in Jiangnan as an intelligence station, and then do some business in silk and tea—that’s all he knew about the specialties of Jiangnan. The Qinhuai Eight Beauties were too expensive to even ask about, but it was possible to get a few beauties from Suzhou and Hangzhou as concubines.

“Hehe,” Jiang Shan ruthlessly shattered his dream. “Do you think the people in the Executive Committee don’t know about your little scheme? You’ll see, the people who can be sent to Jiangnan are definitely people who have to handle both making money and intelligence. Do you think you’ll be chosen?”

Of course not. It was something he shouldn’t even think about. Wang Ding still had that much self-awareness.

“If you insist on being sent abroad, it’s more likely that you’ll be sent to Shaanxi or Liaodong.”

“Forget it, I’ll be the director then.” Wang Ding immediately stopped insisting on his request to be sent abroad. He scratched his head. “I’ve done intelligence analysis before. I’m half a professional.”

“That’s right. To be honest, what’s so good about being sent abroad? It’s not a good thing to be separated from the core.”

“Alright, alright, I will resolutely obey the organization’s arrangements,” Wang Ding said. “Tell me, what’s the first thing our team should do?”

“Of course, it’s to find people to be department heads and office directors. Otherwise, we can’t operate,” Jiang Shan said. “But that’s for later. Let’s first talk about how to carry out intelligence work.”

“I’m in charge of intelligence analysis…”

“Come on, this isn’t the CIA, with everything clearly divided. Right now, you’re my only staff officer.” He took out a silver cigarette case. “Have a cigarette?”

“Okay.” Wang Ding knew at a glance that this was not a locally produced cigarette from Lingao, but one from the old world. The private cigarettes brought over had been mostly consumed after two years. It was only recently that some American cigarettes were distributed after salvaging a sunken ship.

But on closer inspection, it was a “Zhonghua.” He was surprised. A Zhonghua cigarette was far more precious than a condom.

“You still have Zhonghua?”

“Yes, I brought some stock, and it’s well-preserved. Have one.” Jiang Shan said, taking out a box of matches and lighting it for him.

Wang Ding was caught off guard and quickly took a puff from the flame, then slowly took a deep breath and exhaled.

“So satisfying, the real taste of the old world,” Wang Ding said with a nostalgic expression.

“Alright, tell me your thoughts,” Jiang Shan put the cigarette case back in his pocket—in fact, he didn’t smoke at all. The purpose of carrying cigarettes was nothing more than for public relations.

“Our intelligence work, at this stage, will inevitably be an appendage of trade activities. I think we should have a clear understanding of this point,” Wang Ding said. “On this point, we must first position ourselves correctly.”