Chapter 5121 — The Primordial Research Team
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
Wei Zhao could not help worrying a little at such a carefree, slapdash manner—but Brother Dafeng was the sort of rough man with a fine grain hidden in him, and his experience of the world was vast. With a bit of caution, protecting himself ought to be no trouble at all. There was no need for Wei Zhao to fret unduly.
While there was still time before the central headquarters' private craft arrived, Wei Zhao briefed Brother Dafeng on a few more matters concerning the Primordial Alliance. It was easy to foresee that the people at central headquarters would be sure to ask about such things. If Brother Dafeng appeared utterly ignorant, it would mean he had lost his value—and then not only would it be hard to probe any deeper into the core secrets, but, more crucially, even his own safety would become impossible to guarantee. A worthless piece of refuse, after all, has no human rights to speak of.
Of course, Wei Zhao could not tell him too much either. Otherwise, one careless slip of the tongue would make him seem unnatural, and flaws would show all too easily. What he could know and what he could not—that gatekeeping was something only Wei Zhao could do for him.
When all was in readiness, two hours later a helicopter appeared above the cruise ship. Brother Dafeng exchanged a glance with Wei Zhao, who was hidden in the shadows, drew a deep breath, and climbed the rope ladder. The helicopter did not linger; soon it had dwindled to a tiny black speck.
"A helicopter? Can the central headquarters really be so close to this place?" Wei Zhao was secretly rather surprised, though he overturned the thought at once. A helicopter's flight radius was indeed very limited, but no one had said this helicopter would carry Brother Dafeng straight to central headquarters. Perhaps it was only the first leg.
And indeed, Wei Zhao's guess proved entirely correct: the helicopter was only the first leg. After Brother Dafeng was dropped straight down onto a clearing in a remote stretch of old-growth mountain forest, a small transport plane soon appeared overhead—and a military transport at that, equipped with vertical takeoff and landing capability. The hardware left Brother Dafeng gaping, though on second thought, a central headquarters so unfathomable would regard even this as a trifle.
When the transport landed, the hatch opened automatically to reveal a fully sealed cabin. There were some entertainment facilities inside, a television and the like, but not so much as a single window through which one might glance outside.
Brother Dafeng deliberately lingered outside, waiting a long while. He had meant to get friendly with the pilot and, with a bit of luck, perhaps wring out some useful intelligence in advance—the precise location of central headquarters, say. But instead of a pilot, what came was an electronic voice urging him over and over to board.
Brother Dafeng stood dumbstruck for a moment, then stealthily circled round to a rise ahead and took a look. Only then did it dawn on him that the damned thing was unmanned—no wonder no one had come down all this time to greet him.
With no other choice, Brother Dafeng boarded rather glumly. Sure enough, the moment he stepped into the cabin his phone signal dropped to zero, and even satellite navigation was useless. He had meant to use that means to record the flight path and the location of central headquarters—plainly he had been thinking far too much of himself.
The flight lasted a full half day. Brother Dafeng dozed off in a muddle, and when he woke the plane had already landed. Stepping out of the hatch for a look, he was struck dumb all over again. Still no phone signal. Still no use for satellite navigation. And before his eyes there was no terrain or landmark of any kind to help judge his position—because this was an underground airfield.
"So you're Dafeng? Come with me. Dr. Spectacles is waiting for you," said a man in a white assistant's uniform, coming over to greet him.