Mercenary’s War

Time crept by, minute by minute, in the tense wait.

The foundation of victory is intelligence. Combat power matters, but in this operation to rescue Hammer, there’s no doubt that intelligence is the decisive factor that will determine success or failure.

So this time, Gao Yang was doing things a bit differently than before. He was shifting from being the end‑stage executor of intelligence to a direct participant in intelligence collection—not gathering intel in person, but personally commanding the entire collection process.

Previously, whenever Gao Yang needed intelligence, he would tell Justin or Black Demon—those responsible for collecting it—what he wanted. Then he’d wait for the intel to land in his hands and decide how to act based on what he received.

Now, whenever Gao Yang needs intelligence, he gives direct orders to Black Demon and fine‑tunes the requirements in real time. Put simply, Gao Yang used to be just a consumer of intelligence; now he’s its designer.

Intelligence was flowing in constantly. Black Demon had more than just Glewatov inside the military camp hospital, but none of them could get close to the most core, most critical segment, and couldn’t obtain absolutely reliable intel. So most of the time, they could only rely on circumstantial evidence, negative evidence, and other indirect signs to infer the enemy’s moves.

Even so, Gao Yang at least always had a grasp of the situation.

"At 12:36 today, the leader of a Shah Intelligence Agency task team hurried to the intensive care unit, but only one attending physician went in with him. That means Hammer didn’t run into some immediate danger, but woke up. Otherwise, the ones rushing to the ICU would’ve been a bunch of doctors and nurses, not the Intelligence Bureau’s task team."

"Excellent. Keep going."

"The task team leader stayed in the ward for only three minutes before leaving in a rush."

"Only three minutes?"

"Three minutes and seven seconds."

"Three minutes and seven seconds—just that long. That means he’s not ready yet. Keep observing."

"Understood."

When the call ended, Gao Yang thought for a moment, then picked up a pen and began to write on a sheet of paper.

"Time log, Day Four, 12:36. Hammer suspected to have regained consciousness. Attending physician accompanies Shah Intelligence Agency task team leader into ward, leaves after three minutes and seven seconds."

After jotting down some figures, Gao Yang picked up the radio and said in a low voice, "Panda, come over for a sec."

Andy He arrived at Gao Yang’s room very quickly, and he went straight to the point: "Got new intel?"

Gao Yang picked up the logbook and said, "Take a look."

Andy He took the notebook, read it, then set it down. After pondering for a moment, he nodded and said, "Left lower pulmonary artery rupture, left main bronchus damaged, near death. Surgical patient regains consciousness and spontaneous awareness at midday on the fourth post‑op day—the timing matches. It’s credible. This is a positive sign!"

After speaking, Andy He let out a long breath and said with visible relief, "It’s very hard to survive Hammer’s injuries, but since he woke up at this point in time, it means he’s made it past the most dangerous phase. The lead surgeon is a pro."

Gao Yang felt himself relax slightly, then asked, a little tense, "So when can Hammer be moved?"

Andy He shook his head with a helpless expression. "If I could just take one look at Hammer, I’d know when he can be moved. But if I’m only inferring from scattered information, I really don’t dare give a conclusion—I don’t even dare make a guess."

Gao Yang was slightly disappointed. Andy He, equally helpless, said, "Pulmonary artery damage plus main bronchus damage is extremely dangerous, and I don’t know what surgical approach the lead surgeon used. Did he open the whole chest cavity? Or use a minimally invasive incision? These two approaches mean completely different recovery timelines. If we could get a list of the medications prescribed for Hammer, I could at least know his general condition now. And if we could get the dosage for each drug, even better."

Gao Yang let out a quiet sigh and said, "They’ve been working on that for a long time, but so far there’s no way to get intel on the medication list or dosages. The lead surgeon is always with the Shah Intelligence Agency task team. The ward is heavily protected. Our guys’ cover identities don’t give them a legitimate reason to infiltrate. Unless they force their way in—but that would be too easy to blow. We can’t take that risk right now."

Andy He nodded lightly. "I know. I’m just saying that’s what I wish we had."

"If you can’t determine when Hammer can be moved, then can you at least determine how long he absolutely cannot be moved?"

Andy He thought for a long time, then said with a solemn expression, "Within the next forty‑eight hours, he absolutely cannot be moved. That’s a conservative number, but there’s no way it’s wrong."

Gao Yang exhaled and said, "Forty‑eight hours, right? All right, then we wait a bit longer."

Andy He nodded and left, and Gao Yang immediately picked up the radio and said in a low voice, "Pinch it off. Within forty‑eight hours, we will not launch a missile strike."

Several days had already passed. The rescue operation still couldn’t be executed—or rather, Gao Yang couldn’t execute it—because he wanted a living Hammer, not a corpse.

Now there was good news: Hammer seemed to have made it through the most dangerous stage. But actually getting Hammer out still hadn’t even entered the implementation phase.

They could only lie low. Put in literary terms, it was like being a venomous snake hidden in the dark, ready at any moment to strike and sink its fangs into the prey, injecting lethal poison into the enemy’s body.

Just then, Gao Yang’s phone rang.

Over these days Gao Yang’s phone and radio had barely stopped ringing, and this time it was Justin calling.

"Just got word. Shah Intelligence Agency was notified that our old friend has woken up. After a short period of clarity he slipped back into a coma, but it’s benign. Barring unforeseen complications, our old friend’s life is now out of danger."

This was first‑hand, direct intelligence from the enemy’s top echelon, confirming that Black Demon’s assessment was completely accurate, and the convergence of intel from both sides proved this report was solid.

Gao Yang wrote down Justin’s words in his notebook, then asked quietly, "Anything else?"

"A high‑level figure asked when our old friend could be transferred to Riyadh. The reply was that it won’t be possible in the short term."

Gao Yang asked, extremely tense, "Did they give a specific timetable?"

"No."

"Did they order that our old friend be sent to a military base?"

"No. They only told the task team to handle it at their discretion. The call was very brief, just a simple status report."

They still hadn’t gotten what they wanted most. Gao Yang was slightly disappointed, but he knew he couldn’t ask for more. Getting intelligence to this level was already a pinnacle achievement in the world of intelligence warfare—something even many major powers might fail to pull off. And most countries on this planet definitely couldn’t.

For a Mercenary Group to marshal the amount of power it had and complete an intelligence operation that could be called miraculous—one shouldn’t be too greedy.

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