Try Begging - Chapter 143.2
Yet, it turned out that the operation had been launched during the week when everyone was on holiday leave and going back to their hometowns.
“They knew it was the village. Calculated that the rebels, even those who were away for Christmas, would all return.”
This allowed them to capture all the key rebel figures at once, leaving only the minor players who weren’t directly connected to the base.
“The more I learn about him, the scarier he gets.”
One officer nodded and laid down his cards, and suddenly asked.
“What happened to that double agent anyway?”
He looked around his colleagues, but everyone shrugged as if they didn’t know.
“Given the achievements, maybe they let her off the hook?”
“And how did they persuade her?”
Every time they caught rebels, they attempted to coax them, but most didn’t know the location of the base. Sometimes, when they did catch a big fish, the rebels would either rescue them during transport or the person would die without spilling anything—really tough bastards.
“Who knows? I wanted to ask, but the atmosphere in the Western was too tense to even bring it up.”
“Anyway, with such an open betrayal, that woman will have to live in hiding for the rest of her life?”
“That woman… I don’t know if her husband is a rebel, but I guess they ensured a complete identity wash for her family before putting her in.”
The conversation stopped abruptly as the sound of tires screeching on the pavement came from outside. An officer walked to the window and looked out toward the main entrance.
“He’s here again.”
It was late at night, and Captain Winston had returned to the detention center.
An officer stood up from the card game, clicking his tongue.
“If I was Winston, I’d leave this dreary detention center to my subordinates and spend all day partying. I’d rent out an entire cabaret, pop the most expensive champagne, and be surrounded by beauties.”
Lately, the captain was practically living here, although he was still commuting daily to and from Blackburn village, to see if there was anything left for him to do.
“A workaholic… that’s what makes him scary. Not only is he capable, but he’s also diligent.”
His subordinates must be exhausted. However, that also meant more opportunities for promotion, so subtly, everyone was eager to make an impression on the captain as they hurried out into the corridor.
As the officers lined up in the corridor, the Captain entered through the main gate and turned in their direction.
His gaze was as intense as ever, shadowed by the brim of his deeply pulled cap. While others were immersed in festive spirits, the man who orchestrated the festival looked as if he were attending a funeral.
The first day, someone had congratulated him, only to receive a chilling stare. After that, no one dared to mention congratulations again.
His reaction was incomprehensible.
He had accomplished a significant military success and avenged his father, yet he acted as if he had botched the operation.
Speculation about his mood was rampant.
Some said he realized that even with revenge, his dead father wouldn’t return—a cliché ending straight from a novel. Others believed his melancholy was due to the recent confirmation of the death of Patrick Pullman, who had been newly revealed as an accomplice in his father’s death.
‘Looks like this attempt to impress has also failed.’
The Captain marched forward, paying no attention to the saluting officers, and headed straight for the basement.
Only Lieutenant Campbell, who followed him, kept looking back at the line of officers. Campbell signaled with his eyes, ‘Do not speak to the Captain,’ to the other officers of the Northern Campbell before following Winston down the stairs.
Captain Winston was enduring the best and worst of times. Or perhaps, not the best at all. Despite capturing hundreds of enemies, his focus remained fixed on the one woman whom he had missed.
In effect, this operation was a defeat for the captain.
As Campbell followed him silently around the corner of the basement, he observed the Captain, who appeared strong and solid. Yet, having known him since their academy days, Campbell understood him differently.
As volatile as nitroglycerin that touched feathers.
Serving as the Captain’s aide during this period was more unstable than ever. Therefore, he was even more cautious about his actions and words.
As they approached the high-security area with iron bars, the guards standing in front of it quickly opened the iron-barred gate without being asked. From repeated encounters, they were well acquainted with the captain’s temperament.
Without a pause, the Captain proceeded to the cell where the fallen rebel commander was detained.
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