The Mysterious Soldier of the Anti-Japanese War

Chapter 295: Top secret information leaked, agents break out of desperate situation

By the time Yoshishima Yuko returned to the Guangren Match Factory, it was already dark and the silence was almost oppressive. She stood at the factory gate, looking around warily, her eyes scanning every shadow like a hawk. Only after confirming that no one was following her did she slip sideways into the factory.

The workshop was filled with an air of antiquity, mingled with the roar of machinery. She expertly navigated the cluttered storage room until she reached a secluded corner. There lay a seemingly ordinary shelf, piled high with old cardboard boxes. With a firm push, Yoshishima Yuko reached out and the shelf silently slid aside, revealing a hidden entrance.

Entering the secret room, she casually flipped a switch, and a dim light instantly illuminated the room. Maps and intelligence materials covered the walls. She quickly walked to the radio, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Her slender fingers quickly turned the dial, adjusting the frequency. With a humming sound, the radio finally established contact with the Japanese secret service.

She took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the radio, her fingers rapidly tapping the code keys, accurately transmitting the intelligence she had extracted from Zhao Chongwu, including the range of the anti-aircraft artillery and the partial military deployment of the Sichuan Army. "Beep, beep, beep..." The radio waves echoed in the air, passing through the night sky, rapidly transmitting towards the Japanese army. After sending the telegram, Yoshishima Yuko leaned back in her chair, a smug sneer on her face. She knew that this time, because of her intelligence, the effectiveness of the Empire's bombing would be greatly enhanced...

Far away at Hankou Airport, a Japanese naval air base near Wuhan, the commander of the Japanese army, having received the intelligence, sat in his spacious office, looking at the telegram in his hand with a sinister smile on his face. He stood up suddenly, slammed the document in his hand on the table, and shouted the order: "Prepare for action!"

Inside the base, nine fighter jets were neatly arranged. Mechanics busily moved among them, meticulously checking every component to ensure the aircraft were in perfect condition. A refueling truck slowly arrived, pumping fuel into the fighters. Meanwhile, ground crew members expertly loaded their machine guns with ammunition, each bullet neatly arranged on a belt, its cold gleaming.

Everything was ready. At the commander's command, the fighter jets' engines started up one after another, emitting a deafening roar. The propellers spun rapidly, stirring up the dust on the ground. The fighters slowly glided towards the runway and then took off one after another, forming a tight formation in the sky. The propellers on the nose of the planes cut through the air with a sharp and piercing roar.

This time, the Japanese Air Force meticulously arranged these fighters to escort the subsequent bombers taking off. They understood the critical importance of the bombers' mission and the high likelihood of interception by enemy forces. Fighter escort was crucial to ensuring the mission's success. The fighter pilots wore serious expressions, their gazes fixed on the front, communicating with each other via radio, and maintaining perfect flight posture.

Military Intelligence Bureau agents Li Ming and Wang Qiang, lurking in the bushes near the base, hadn't dared to relax since they noticed the unusual movements at the Japanese base. They watched it all unfold, their hearts pounding with the roar of the aircraft engines. Li Ming quickly crouched down, pulled out his miniature transmitter, and sent a message to headquarters: "Japanese forces have been spotted at the Hankou airfield. They are preparing for action. Nine fighter planes have taken off to escort the bombers. Subsequent bomber groups are suspected to be about to be deployed. A large-scale operation is imminent, and the target is likely to be the mountain city."

Just then, footsteps were heard near the brush. Li Ming and Wang Qiang held their breath, gripping their weapons tightly, their bodies tense as if bows, their eyes etched with alertness and determination. Suddenly, a hare darted out of the brush, startling the approaching Japanese patrol. Cursing under his breath, he raised his rifle and fired a few random shots in the direction of the hare's flight. Then, looking around, seeing nothing unusual, he left, cursing.

Only after the patrol had gone away did Li Ming and Wang Qiang breathe a sigh of relief and continue to observe the Japanese army's movements. Wang Qiang was anxious: "What should we do? If we let these bombers fly out, who knows how many innocent people will be killed." Li Ming frowned, thought for a moment, and said, "We have to find a way to delay time and give headquarters a chance to deploy defenses."

Crouching low, the two men quietly approached the tarmac. The pungent smell of fuel filled the air, and the stifling heat made breathing heavy. Their heartbeats were distinct in the silence, and they took every step carefully, fearing even the slightest noise. They reasoned: if they could destroy this area, they could delay the Japanese bombers' takeoff. Li Ming pulled a dagger from his waist, while Wang Qiang gripped his pistol. Protecting each other, they slowly approached the fuel supply station.

Just as they were about to approach, a Japanese soldier, seemingly sensing something unusual, suddenly turned and began walking towards them. Li Ming and Wang Qiang immediately hid behind a truck, not daring to breathe. The Japanese soldiers approached, their footsteps clearly audible. Li Ming's hand gripped the dagger tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain. Wang Qiang flipped the safety on his pistol, ready for battle at any moment.

Fortunately, the Japanese soldier briefly checked nearby and found nothing unusual, so he returned to his post. Li Ming and Wang Qiang seized the opportunity and rushed to the fuel supply station. Li Ming cut the oil pipeline with a dagger, and fuel gushed out instantly. Wang Qiang shouted, "Run!" The two of them sprinted out of the base.

The fuel leak was quickly discovered by the Japanese, and alarms blared throughout the base. Soldiers rushed to the fuel depot, and chaos reigned. The bombers' takeoffs were aborted, and the pilots emerged from their cockpits, bewildered by the sudden change.

At this critical moment, the Japanese guards spotted Li Ming and Wang Qiang, who were sprinting for their lives outside the airport base. A sharp whistle instantly ripped through the chaotic air, and in an instant, the glare of the searchlights, like sharp swords, shot straight at them, pinning their figures firmly in the pale light.

At the same time, the Japanese soldiers on guard in the watchtower grabbed their machine guns without hesitation and fired wildly at them. Bullets whizzed out, splashing clouds of dust around them. The dense rain of bullets wove a web of death, trying to trap them.

Li Ming keenly noticed a pile of abandoned oil drums not far to the right, a possible refuge. Flustered, he caught a glimpse of Wang Qiang also searching for a way out. Without a second thought, Li Ming ducked, his legs thrust, and leaped like a cheetah toward the drums. His body arced through the air, and a few bullets grazed the hem of his shirt, sending a chill through him.

Wang Qiang, not wanting to be outdone, watched Li Ming's moment to leap, and with the support of a nearby wooden box, he leaped toward Li Ming. In mid-air, he could clearly hear the sharp crack of bullets ripping through the air, and his heart pounded as if it was about to burst through his chest.

The two men landed almost simultaneously, tumbling rapidly behind the oil drum, breathing heavily. Li Ming's back was scraped by the ground, burning with pain, but he ignored it and quickly poked his head out to observe the enemy's movements. Wang Qiang gripped his gun tightly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, his eyes filled with determination.

"No, we can't be caught like this!" Li Ming roared through gritted teeth, his voice muffled by the gunfire, yet it radiated an unyielding ruthlessness. Wang Qiang nodded vigorously, responding, "Let's fight! We must find a chance to break out!" They knew their escape route was now completely cut off, and every second was a matter of life and death. Only a desperate fight would offer any hope of survival.

Li Ming and Wang Qiang exchanged a quick glance, their understanding mutual. Li Ming took a deep breath, slowly raised his rifle, and peered through the scope, locking onto the blinding searchlight emanating from the left-hand sentry tower. His finger rested lightly on the trigger, and with a dull thud, the bullet unleashed like lightning, striking the searchlight with pinpoint accuracy. Instantly, the bright light to the left went out, and darkness engulfed the area.

Almost simultaneously, Wang Qiang, without hesitation, turned his gun toward the right-hand watchtower. He half-crouched, steadied his breathing, and, relying on years of combat experience and keen intuition, decisively pulled the trigger. With a bang, the glass of the right-hand searchlight shattered, the bulb flashing and extinguishing, plunging the surroundings into darkness.

Without the strong light of the searchlight, the pressure on the two men was suddenly reduced.

Without the searchlight's intense focus, the pressure on the two men suddenly eased. Crouching low, they used the piles of discarded oil drums and scattered mechanical parts as cover as they dashed left and right amidst the hail of gunfire. Their steps were hurried and frantic, as they frantically tested the brink of death.

Suddenly, a bullet whistled with a sharp sound as it struck Wang Qiang's thigh. Blood splattered everywhere, and the warm blood quickly stained his trouser leg red. Wang Qiang groaned, lost his balance, and fell heavily to the ground.

Li Ming was extremely anxious. He turned around and rushed to Wang Qiang's side. He saw blood gushing out from Wang Qiang's thigh, staining a large area of ​​the ground red. His face turned as pale as paper due to excessive blood loss.

Wang Qiang, exhausting his last bit of strength, pushed Li Ming away, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Get out! I can't leave. I'll cover your retreat!" His voice trembled with pain, yet it shone with undeniable resolve. He then pulled out a wrinkled family photo from his pocket—a picture of him, his wife, and their child. His fingers gently stroked the photo, his eyes filled with longing and reluctance. "Tell my wife a message: Raise the child, and tell him that his father was fighting the Japanese..." He hadn't finished his words when he began coughing violently.

Li Ming's eyes were red and tears were welling up in them. He refused to leave his brother behind: "No, Wang Qiang, I can't leave you behind! Let's go together!" As he said that, he reached out to pull Wang Qiang.

Wang Qiang angrily slapped his hand away and roared, "Don't be stupid! If you get out alive, you can give more people a chance to survive and stop the Japanese bombing! If you don't leave, we will both die and the mission will be unfinished. How can we face those innocent people then?"

Li Ming's hand seemed frozen in mid-air, his fingertips trembling slightly. He stared intently at Wang Qiang's resolute eyes, his heart filled with pain and struggle, as if pierced by thousands of needles. The footsteps of the Japanese troops drew closer, their shouts growing clearer. Li Ming knew there was no time for hesitation.

He took the photo with trembling hands and nodded vigorously: "Okay, Wang Qiang, I promise you! You must hold on and wait for me to bring reinforcements!" After that, he looked at Wang Qiang deeply, turned around and ran away.