Chapter 156
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Chapter 156: The Chinese Foreign Affairs Division
“Go ahead!” With the initiative in his hands, Lin Mo wasn’t afraid of a tough approach. Even if they resorted to underhanded tactics, he had support behind him; he was used to the back-and-forths and didn’t mind one more troublesome encounter.
“Is the incident in Mibatong related to you?” As Lin Mo expected, Catherine’s first question indeed concerned his recent activities. However, this matter was highly confidential, known only to a very few. Even if the stolen goods were tracked, it would be difficult to find any links to Lin Mo.
If the Americans searched underground, they could at most suspect Lin Mo, but they could never imagine how he managed it all by himself. They probably still believed the stolen F-22 engines were hidden within the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
“What incident? I don’t know anything!” Lin Mo began feigning ignorance.
“If you can provide me with some leads, I will pay you one million dollars! Your annual salary might not even be that high?”
Catherine remained calm while delivering her financial offer with a fierce edge.
Lin Mo felt his pupils constrict. One million dollars! That was around six to seven million yuan.
He was indeed in desperate need of money, and he felt an impulse to seize this woman’s offer right then and there.
Catherine noticed Lin Mo’s expression and couldn’t help but feel a bit smug; just as she had thought, no one could resist the allure of money.
To her surprise, Lin Mo shook his head. “Sorry! As much as I would love that million dollars, I truly do not know anything!”
Since the waters were already murky, Lin Mo had no intention of allowing them to clear up; let the Americans guess. Real-life experience often misled them into wandering further down the wrong path.
Catherine’s expression froze for a moment. The brief flash of desire for money on Lin Mo’s face was unmistakable; she hadn’t anticipated the underlying complexities.
Compared to the troubles ahead, a million dollars—even if multiplied by ten—could never sway Lin Mo. His funding shortfall was unimaginable.
Whether the arms depot theft was connected to Lin Mo would require further investigation. Although the likelihood was high, many could not comprehend how Lin Mo accomplished it entirely on his own. From start to finish, he had acted alone.
One person, with just a single engine crate, could crush him. Even if it was left out for someone to take, ten strong men couldn’t lift it. Moreover, how could it have been transported? In such a vast space, it seemed to have vanished into thin air. The entire incident was shrouded in layers of mystery.
Perhaps a mysterious organization had planned this, seizing the opportunity when the Americans’ attention at the secret base in the Mibatong range was still focused on Lin Mo.
This was a puzzle even the intelligence personnel in China couldn’t figure out about Lin Mo. But at the very least, the authentic F-22 vector thrust engines, the complete set of Future Warrior exoskeleton mechs, and many precious devices and components were no laughing matter. To put it bluntly, a local war could erupt over them.
“Well then! Last question!” Catherine blinked. “If you could return the Future Warrior mechs to us, we are willing to pay five million dollars. Please don’t say you don’t know.”
The Americans were sure that Lin Mo had a complete set of the compromised Future Warrior individual exoskeleton mechs—the most intact version available. The worth of five million dollars for those exoskeletons was equivalent to retrieving them at original price; the cost to the Americans was substantial.
“This, huh?” Lin Mo scratched his head and shrugged. “Sorry, while I would love to, the PLA’s traditional principle says all confiscated items must be turned in. I’ve already submitted them, and they are probably back in the country now. You know, I’m just a lowly pilot; I can’t keep this stuff. Although I would love to keep it for myself.”
Lin Mo spoke the truth! Even the most advanced lie detectors and personnel couldn’t determine if he was pulling their leg.
The Americans failed to consider that the items Lin Mo turned in had been swiftly transported along secret air routes to Central Asia before the US could react. They had continuously passed through connections, eventually reaching China. Once those items set foot on Chinese soil, they effectively vanished without a trace, never to be retrieved.
Catherine felt a surge of frustration after hitting multiple walls with Lin Mo. Whenever she sought crucial information, he consistently feigned ignorance. She found herself helpless—neither could she overpower him, nor seduce him; he remained utterly unyielding. She had never encountered someone so unyielding, almost akin to a professional intelligence officer.
What Catherine didn’t realize was that Lin Mo had undergone training in intelligence reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance for some time and was far from just a simple pilot.
“Well, if you have any valuable information in the future, please share it with me, and we would be willing to offer you some reward!” Catherine produced a business card and handed it to Lin Mo. This was a blatant dual-purpose recruitment; it would not only add complications for Lin Mo but also provide him with a means to approach the US if he ever chose not to work for China anymore. After all, the CIA wouldn’t overlook any chance to undermine their opponents.
“This is our apology! I hope we have cooperation opportunities in the future.” Catherine stood up and pushed an envelope towards Lin Mo, placing a hundred-dollar bill on the corner of the table. Since she couldn’t extract any useful information, and they had no interest in each other, further conversation would be pointless. Originally, she had even a blank check in her bag but found it unnecessary now.
Anyone could guess the contents of the envelope without needing to look.
“There’s no need for the business card; it’s better if we don’t meet again! You know, I personally dislike trouble!”
Lin Mo did not touch the envelope but simply smiled slightly. He pinched the business card and rubbed it gently, instantly transforming it into fragments that fluttered down. Catherine’s pupils constricted; her intel about Lin Mo had been utterly wrong. This guy was evidently no ordinary person. How had China managed to cultivate such a monster in their Air Force?
But she still flashed an unfazed smile, waved her hand, and left without a word.
Lin Mo opened the envelope on the table, took a glance, and scoffed, “Poor fools! Thinking thirty thousand dollars could send me away. They deserve to be robbed.”
Lin Mo’s words carried a double meaning.
Just as he planned to leave, a waiter clearing the tables in the café gestured for him to stop.
In Lin Mo’s puzzled gaze, the waiter pulled out a small box resembling a cigarette case and placed it on the table. A faint green LED light flickered, indicating it was some sort of electronics.
“Captain Lin Mo!”
It was a Zambian man. Lin Mo turned around, and the man spoke a few secret phrases in fluent Chinese.
“You’re from the Foreign Affairs Division?!” Lin Mo was surprised. It was rare to see intelligence personnel of other ethnicities; one shouldn’t assume all Chinese intelligence agents are yellow-skinned, black-haired, and black-eyed. There were certainly foreign agents with blonde hair and blue eyes, as well as dark-skinned individuals.
Even the CIA had agents of Chinese descent, so it was no wonder that China also employed methods to turn the tables on others.
Perhaps one day he might encounter a CIA agent who also held an identity within China’s intelligence circle.
“That’s correct; you can call me Monet. Of course, for me, a name is just a nickname. I’ve long forgotten my real name.”
As the man carefully tidied up the table, he added, “We already heard what Catherine said.”
Then, skillfully, he rummaged beneath the table, beside the chair, and in the nearby flowerpot, retrieving seven or eight button-sized devices—clearly listening devices.
The electronic device he placed on the table, resembling a cigarette case, was likely a signal jammer.
“Please don’t worry about the Americans. We’ll handle everything from here, including your personal safety. Do you wish to return to China early, or would you prefer to continue training in Zambia? Rest assured, this won’t affect your work evaluation; our Foreign Affairs Division will supply you with proof.”
Monet smiled slightly, articulating his words clearly, much like a native Chinese speaker.
It appeared that Lin Mo’s meeting with Catherine was entirely under the surveillance of Chinese intelligence personnel. There was no doubt it wouldn’t escape the Americans’ watchful eyes, yet the American agents failed to acquire any valuable information, especially regarding the Future Warrior individual exoskeleton mechs.
However, Chinese intelligence was not to be underestimated; they would naturally intercept any further troubles for Lin Mo.
Monet was discussing Lin Mo’s work arrangements post-meeting, especially since the fighter jet orders involved several other African countries. They had already received payments, so China needed adequate reasons and costs to legitimately reduce a training instructor, as both products and services were crucial. Changes could not be made unilaterally once contracts were signed.
After the Zhuhai Airshow, the codename “Gold Coin” was highly sought after. Several African nations specifically requested Lin Mo to be part of the training instructor team for their bulk fighter jet purchases.
Lin Mo chuckled; those minor troubles were nothing. They wouldn’t dare plant a bomb under his bed, would they?
He spread his hands and said, “No problem, I’ll continue being my role as an air force instructor. I’m not afraid of those Americans!”
“We’ll take care of the rest.” Monet flashed a bright smile, bowed slightly, cleaned up the drinks and leftover snacks, along with the odd bits and pieces, and then left, appearing just like a regular waiter.
For Lin Mo, whether facing one enemy or a group, combat was his specialty. Be it in the air or on the ground, he would strike them down without fear.
Lin Mo rose and exited the café, aware that some eyes were closely watching him—some with good intentions, others with malicious ones. Regardless, those who felt displeased could come at him directly.
