Chapter 2008 - 1451: Eyes in the Shadows (Part 2)

This was the understanding between them.

Some things, he would naturally say when he wanted to.

"Alright, see you tomorrow," Angel said, "By the way, Song..."

"Hmm?"

"I miss you too."

The call ended.

Song Heping looked out the window, the corners of his mouth slightly curved upward.

Angel, CEO of Horizon News Group, niece of US House of Representatives Speaker Nancy, born into a political family, a formidable woman in the business world.

Any of these titles alone would be enough for an ordinary person to live three lifetimes.

But in front of him, she was just a woman named Angel.

He took a tin of gum out of his pocket, poured out two pieces, and tossed them into his mouth.

Then he dialed another number.

This time, it was an encrypted line.

"Grey Wolf," he said.

"Boss."

The clear and calm voice of Grey Wolf came from the other end.

"I saw you entering the hotel."

"Yes, just entered the room. How are things on your end?"

"Everything is normal." Grey Wolf paused and lowered his voice: "Eight people, four around the hotel, two on surveillance, two on standby. We rented three cars, rotating them to avoid attracting attention."

Song Heping chewed his gum silently.

The Gray Wolf Team was assembled by him personally seven years ago.

Eight individuals from six different countries, including former Special Soldiers, former intelligence personnel, and a former KGB technical specialist.

"What about Robbin's people?" he asked.

"They're here." Grey Wolf's tone carried a hint of disdain: "We've identified three of them—a black Chevrolet Suburban with Virginia plates, parked at the street corner opposite your hotel. Two people inside the car, one sitting in a café pretending to read a newspaper. They don't know we're watching them as well."

"How long have they been watching?"

"They arrived ten minutes after you entered the hotel. They probably followed from the airport." Grey Wolf asked, "Boss, do you want to give them a warning?"

"No need," Song Heping said, "Let them watch. The closer they watch, the more it shows their intention to act."

"Understood."

"Angel will be coming tomorrow," Song Heping said, "Afternoon flight from New York. I'll send you the flight number later. Send two people to follow her at the airport, protect her quietly without letting her find out."

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Then Grey Wolf spoke, his tone slightly subtle: "Boss, Miss Angel... Is it safe for her to be involved at this time?"

Song Heping did not answer immediately.

He stood behind the curtains, gently pulling a small gap to look at the quiet street outside.

The café across the street still had its lights on, visible through the glass window was a man in a dark jacket sitting by the window with a Washington Post in hand, yet his eyes occasionally glanced at the hotel entrance.

That was the person Grey Wolf mentioned who was surveilling.

"It's not safe," Song Heping said, his voice very low, "But I think in the US, no one should dare make a move on her."

Grey Wolf went silent for two more seconds.

"Understood," he said, "I'll arrange everything. Which two people should I use?"

"Victor and Ilya. Victor is steady, Ilya is clever; they are the best fit together."

"Alright. Should they bring her directly to the hotel after picking her up?"

"Yes. Park the car at the hotel rear door, take the service elevator up from the underground parking garage. I'll get the elevator key from the reception, will give it to you tomorrow."

"Understood."

Song Heping glanced again at the café across the street. The surveilling man was looking at his watch.

"Grey Wolf," he said, "These days might be eventful. Tell everyone to stay on their toes."

"Don't worry, Boss," Grey Wolf's voice carried a hint of ferocity, "Grey Wolf never drops the ball."

The call ended.

Song Heping stood by the window, watching for a long time.

Outside, it started to drizzle. Raindrops pattered against the glass, creating a dense sound.

In the café across the street, the surveilling man finally put down the newspaper, got up, and left.

He walked to the curb and got into a black Chevrolet Suburban.

Song Heping watched as the car slowly drove away, a barely detectable smile played on his lips.

Let them watch.

The closer the watch, the more it shows their guilt.

He closed the curtains and walked into the bathroom.

Early the next morning, Song Heping woke up at six.

This was a habit cultivated over many years; no matter what time he sleeps, he always wakes up at six.

His biological clock is more accurate than any alarm.

He took a shower, changed into clean clothes, then stood by the window, pulling a slit open to look outside.

It was just beginning to dawn, and Georgetown's streets were nearly empty.

The black Chevrolet from last night was gone, replaced by a deep blue Dodge Challenger parked in the same spot.

Song Heping's eyes narrowed slightly.

Different car model, different color.

And this car—

He looked closely. The license plate was from Virginia, but there were subtle modification marks on the car body.

The suspension was lowered a bit, the window tint was darker, and the wheels changed to matte black sport style.

This wasn't an ordinary surveillance vehicle.

This was a vehicle modified for chasing in the city.

He picked up his phone and sent Grey Wolf a message: "Dodge Challenger, deep blue, license plate VRN-7823. Check it out."

Three minutes later, Grey Wolf replied: "Checked, it's a rental car, rented by two men yesterday afternoon. Used fake IDs, but the rental company's surveillance caught one of their faces. Boss, this guy... isn't simple."

Song Heping stared at the line for a few seconds.

"Send the photo over."

Grey Wolf quickly sent a photo.

It's a screenshot from the rental company's surveillance video; the angle isn't great, only the side profile is visible.

But just that side profile was enough to make Song Heping's pupils contract slightly.

It was a typical European face.

High nose bridge, deep-set eyes, a strong chin line.

Age seemed around forty-five, short hair, neatly trimmed sideburns.

Wearing a dark jacket, the collar slightly raised.

But what alerted Song Heping was not the person's appearance but the stance he held at the counter.

His left hand hung at his side, fingers slightly curled, maintaining a posture ready for drawing a gun or fighting at any moment; his eyes looked at the staff behind the counter, but his peripheral vision continuously scanned the surrounding exits.

This was a professional habit.

And a highly professional habit.

Song Heping enlarged the photo, carefully observing the person's profile.

Then he noticed a detail.

There was a slight scar behind the person's right ear, extending from the earlobe to the neck.

That was a surgical scar from a carotid sheath operation.

Such surgery is done by only one type of people.

After being shot in the neck, it's performed to remove bullet fragments.

Song Heping was silent for a few seconds then dialed another number.

Not Grey Wolf.

It was another encrypted line.

The call was quickly connected, Henry's voice came from the other end: "Boss, is it you? Evening... oh, wait, it should be morning for you there."

"It's me," Song Heping said, "Henry, there's work."

Henry chuckled softly on the other end: "Tell me, who do you want checked?"

Song Heping sent the photo from his phone.

"This guy," he said, "Dig into his background. As detailed as possible."

"Just one side profile?" Henry complained: "Boss, you're making it tough for me."

"Check as much as you can," Song Heping said.

"Understood," Henry said, "Give me six hours."

"As soon as possible."

Disconnecting, Song Heping stood by the window, staring at the Dodge Challenger.

The two people sat inside like statues, unmoving.

But he knew, they weren't statues.

They were hunters.

Truly top-tier hunters.