My spy diary

Chapter 80 Sniper (please recommend and vote monthly)
Shanghai.

French Concession.

11:55pm.

Outside Xinxin Coffee House.

Zhang Yi had changed his attire at this moment, holding a "Declaration" in his hand, smoking while observing the movements inside and outside the coffee house.

Zhang Yi likes to say that details determine success or failure.

He is very thoughtful and likes to think deeply about things, and he considers the details very carefully.

Having dealt with agents for a long time, each other's behavior is very familiar.

In his sight at this moment, there were two cars parked on the roadside, with several idle men sitting in them. They looked like plainclothes men.

The person watching seemed to be a bit of a rookie. He looked around in the car, which made Zhang Yi a little nervous.

He speculated on the identities of these people. They were probably spies from the patrol house in the French Concession, or spies from other intelligence agencies.

Judging from their posture, it seems that there is something going on here at Xinxin Coffee House. Zhang Yi doesn't care, as long as it doesn't affect his connections.

If these people are coming against him, then Zhang Yi has nothing to say but to fight to the death and fight his way out of the encirclement.

For such a confidential mission, the news could be leaked. In addition to Chen Cang's rebellion, he was betrayed by Wang Xinheng.

Time passed by, and as a ding-ding-ding bell rang, a tram slowly stopped, and a young man with a camera hanging on his chest jumped out.

He looked in his early twenties, wearing a fashionable suit, with a confident smile on his face, and he looked full of energy.

reporter.

He walked to the coffee shop without looking sideways, bought a copy of the "Declaration" and walked straight into the coffee shop.

Zhang Yi glanced at the time, 11:59, hesitated for a few seconds, and then turned around and entered the coffee shop.

He noticed that the lazy plainclothes people in the car just glanced at him and then looked away. Zhang Yi knew in his heart that these people must know the target or have photos of the target.

After entering the coffee shop, Zhang Yi chose a seat near the back door and the window, and just ordered a cup of coffee.

I saw a young reporter walking over with a cigarette in his mouth. He said:
"Brother, can you borrow a fire?"

Zhang Yi glanced at him and handed over the lighter.

The reporter blew out a puff of smoke, stretched out his right hand and said:
"Brother Chen Cang is a reporter at the Shanghai office of Hunan Xiangguang News Agency."

Upon hearing this name, Zhang Yi's eyebrows flashed, he stretched out his left hand and said calmly:

"Brother Zhang Chao, a student at Shanghai Datong University."

"Isn't Lao Zhang here?"

“Come often”

"Is he still buying groceries?"

"right"

"Take me to see him."

"What's up?"

"Invite him to watch a movie"

"Ok."

This is called exchanging names, holding the left hand and the right hand, and asking and answering four times in total.

Zhang Yi doesn't know who designed this code. To be honest, his level is a bit low.

If we met by chance on the street and exchanged a few words, it would be like a normal conversation, and no one would think it was weird, but in a coffee shop it was a bit out of the ordinary.

The two of them simply faced each other and spoke quietly, without attracting anyone's attention.

The joint codes matched, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief.

Then they started chatting all over the place. After finishing the coffee, the two of them paid the bill and left the coffee shop in a tacit understanding.

When they arrived at a square, the two shook hands. Chen Cang smiled and asked:

"How's your marksmanship?"

"not bad."

"That's fine." Chen Cang nodded, took out a car key from his pocket and handed it to Zhang Yida:
"The car was parked outside Yiyang Trading Company in the British Concession. There was a Springfield rifle in the trunk."

The Springfield rifle is also called the M1903. It has an effective range of 800 meters. When equipped with a scope, it becomes a sniper rifle.

Zhang Yi took the key and nodded, then saw Chen Cang take out a photo from his pocket and continued:

"Tonight the target will attend the reception on the first floor of HSBC Bank. This is your chance. Try to hit it with one hit, otherwise the other party will be frightened and stay behind closed doors, and things will be difficult to handle."

Zhang Yi took the photo in astonishment and thought to himself, is it that simple?
Understanding all the life patterns of the target is the prerequisite and foundation for killing the target.

This work seems simple, but in fact it is complex, meticulous and arduous.

It's better now, cars and firearms are ready for you, and you can clearly investigate wherever the target appears, so you can just go and fire a shot. This isn't for gold plating.

Zhang Yi was a little embarrassed, but fortunately he also had a wealthy family, so he sincerely complimented:
"You do a really good job, thank you."

"I wish you success." The two shook hands again and then left. Zhang Yi had heard about collusion methods inside and outside the Secret Service before, and today it was an eye-opener.

The agents at the Secret Service headquarters usually make use of their relationships with classmates and relatives to help classmates in various units in the field find opportunities for promotion and wealth, while those outside provide material assistance to those working in the back office, and communicate with each other on big and small matters.

When people from the Secret Service Headquarters come out to perform tasks, they usually have everything done and just sign and stamp the report.

Doesn’t Dai Chunfeng know?
Of course he knew, and he did it too.

When Boss Dai graduated from high school, Dai's mother began to make arrangements for him to get married. The first blind date was with his mother's sister's daughter, his cousin.

Although Boss Dai was a little talented at the time, his cousin felt that he had an out-of-touch personality and was a bit of a gangster, so she didn't like him at all. Instead, she fell in love with Dai Chunfeng's younger brother.

Things did not go as expected by his cousin. More than ten years later, Dai Chunfeng, who was still a prostitute in Shanghai in his 30s, did not even have a place to live, so he had to go to his cousin.

The cousin was dismissive and sarcastic, but in the end it was his cousin's husband who persuaded Dai Chunfeng to live in the kitchen of his cousin's house.

Dai Chunfeng became the director of the department. After he became successful, he immediately brought his brother-in-law into the organization and used various methods to make him perform meritorious service. After a year, he was already a well-known spy.

The matter was not over yet. At this time, Boss Dai began to take revenge. He took his cousin-in-law, who was gradually becoming prosperous, to and from luxury brothels and study apartments, hinting that he should ignore his cousin.

Later, under his instigation and coercion, his cousin married an 18-year-old blooming college student as his concubine, and then let the three of them live under the same roof.

My cousin had no choice but to cry every day.

Kill people and take heart!

The streets of Shanghai at night are bustling with traffic and full of lights.

The dreary weather makes people a little sleepy.

Taro Miyamoto loosened the collar of his shirt, opened the car window a little, and picked up a fan to fan himself.

He was a little fat, with a broad face, a flat nose, a mustache, and glasses, and looked a little wretched.

The bodyguard on the side immediately said: "Sir, this is not safe."

"It's just a gap. It's covered by a curtain. There's nothing unsafe about it." Taro Miyamoto didn't care.

The bodyguard saw that he was resolute and hesitated to speak, but was afraid of being scolded by Miyamoto, so he had to wink at the driver and the man on the co-pilot, telling them to cheer up and be on guard.

He said in his heart that if someone with no foresight came up, there would be a total of eight bodyguards in the two cars behind and behind them, and each one of them would be equipped with a pair of guns, so he would never come back.

In the cold night, the sudden cold wind made Miyamoto Taro shiver, and his thoughts became clearer.

He was still thinking about tomorrow.

Tomorrow is the weekend, and according to the agreement, the Chinese guy is going to send information.

He didn't know what kind of information it was, which made the usually calm Hisashi Kato sit on pins and needles. He called three times today.

I was a little lost in thought, and before I knew it I had arrived downstairs at the HSBC Bank.

Taro Miyamoto lifted the curtain and took a look. Through the gap between the crowd, he could see well-dressed gentlemen chatting and laughing in the splendid hall, and potbellied officials flirting with modern girls, many of whom were European and American with blond hair and blue eyes.

There are even waiters carrying champagne among them, flowers, fine wines, beauties, and fragrances overflowing. This is a world of luxury and luxury.

"Men should live in such a world. Of course, it would be better if there weren't these barbarians from Europe. They all dress up in tuxedos and look polite. It's ridiculous."

Taro Miyamoto sneered. Now these people are the protagonists of the banquet, and he still wants to praise their stinky feet, but I believe that it won't be long before they tremble at the feet of the empire.

"Sir, please get out of the car."

The bodyguard in the back seat first got out of the car and carefully observed the circle, then waved, leaving four people to look at the car. The other four formed a circle and sandwiched Miyamoto, who had just got out of the car, in the middle to protect him closely. Walk towards the hall.

"Baga, do I look like a ghost? There's no need to stick so close to avoid being laughed at."

Miyamoto scolded in a low voice, then straightened the bow on his tuxedo, straightened his back and walked forward.

On a platform opposite the bank building, Zhang Yi was kneeling on the ground in black clothes, observing the crowds coming in and out of the bank through a light-transmitting sight.

There is a photo fixed with nails on the ground next to it. It must have been rushed to be printed. It is a little blurry and a little sticky, and the smell of medicine hits your face.

Zhang Yi visually measured the distance, which was about 300 meters. The range of the Springfield rifle was 800 meters, which was completely enough.

The weather tonight is not bad, the moon is bright, so the scope is clearly visible in the small world.

He pulled out a weed, held it in his hand, judged the wind speed, and adjusted the shooting angle and his own breathing.

Finally, a wretched face appeared in the scope. He was kissing a lady's hand in a gentlemanly manner with a warm smile on his face.

Just in time.

Zhang Yi glanced at the weeds swaying in the wind, held back the roar, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"boom"

The gunshot rang out, the bullet casing jumped to the ground, and the bullet quickly cut through the air and entered Taro Miyamoto's brain.

He was still smiling a second ago, but suddenly his expression paused, his face turned pale, his body couldn't help leaning to one side, and he fell slumped to the ground. A small hole appeared on his head, his brain was burst, and blood was gurgling.

The sudden gunshots made people at the door of the hall scream and run away with their heads in their hands.

Miyamoto's bodyguard discerned the direction of the gunfire and fired repeatedly in the direction of Zhang Yi, but the range of the tortoise box seemed so redundant at such a distance.

At this moment, Zhang Yi shouldered his sniper rifle, put on his rubber gloves, and quickly cleaned the battlefield. Then he walked to the iron frame nearby, picked up the thick rope on the ground, threw it outside, and slid down the rope.

By the time Taro Miyamoto's bodyguards and patrol officers arrived, the person had already disappeared without a trace.

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(End of this chapter)