Chapter 45: Earth-Shattering Conspiracy

  To avoid unnecessary trouble, the CIA sent Major Beckett to India on a "hire" basis to carry out secret missions, and adopted a single-line contact method. Beckett reported to intelligence liaison officer Serrate, who was responsible to CIA Deputy Director of Intelligence Wesley. However, Serrate was not an intelligence analyst but a foreign affairs operative, administratively subordinate to the CIA's operations division.

  When Wesley received the message sent back by Serati, he also got a photo taken by the reconnaissance satellite.

  Photos taken from low Earth orbit show just how massive the explosion was. Even under ideal conditions, the blast yield is estimated to be around 250 kilotons, equivalent to a 1,000-pound aerial bomb.

  After drawing his conclusions, Wesley immediately called the White House and then left the office with evidence.

  At the same time, CIA Deputy Director Parmelle also received a secret report sent back by Serati from the confidential line.

  After receiving a sudden phone call, Palmer left his office and drove twenty kilometers to a small town.

  There was only one coffee shop in the small town, and business was slow, with no other customers. Pamela ordered a cup of Blue Mountain coffee and chose a quiet corner.

  About ten minutes later, a Lincoln sedan stopped outside the coffee shop. Two bodyguards wearing sunglasses got out first, followed by a middle-aged man who stepped down from the car.

  As soon as the middle-aged man walked into the coffee shop, the waiter by the door showed a surprised expression. "You... you are Senator Miles..."

  The middle-aged man's eyebrows jumped a few times, and before he could speak, the bodyguard who followed him pushed the waiter away.

  Miles looked over at Pam who was sitting in the corner and walked over.

  "We shouldn't meet." Palmer seemed a little intimidated by this senator from New York.

  "There's something we need to discuss in person." Miles sat down.

  "We've just received intelligence that the Chinese J-10 is equipped with a new engine." Parmel pulled out a cigarette, and as he lit it, his hand trembled slightly. "Before our people arrived, the wreckage of the plane was hit by a violent explosion. It's still unclear whether it was detonated by someone or if it was a natural explosion."

  "I already knew about this." Miles pulled out a long, black cigar and the bodyguard standing behind him immediately lit it for him. "I didn't come to you for this matter."

  Pamela's eyebrows jumped a few times. If it wasn't for something absolutely important, Miles wouldn't have shown up in person.

  "We have received very reliable information that a major upheaval is going to take place in Indian politics."

  "What!?" Parmel almost shouted, "The CIA didn't even receive any related intelligence, you..."

  "Do you suspect my intelligence source?"

  "No, it's not." Parmel controlled his slightly out-of-control emotions. "I'm just a bit surprised, what is going on?"

  "This is not the behavior of a seasoned operative." Miles smiled faintly and said, "Rahul Gandhi has not only won over most of the Congress party's members, but also reached a secret agreement with members of other parties in the ruling coalition to bring an impeachment motion against Santos tomorrow."

  It seemed he had expected it all along; Parmel didn't show any surprise on his face.

  "Except for the Lok Sabha, Rahul lacks one necessary condition."

  "Support from the military?" Pamela's words revealed the truth.

  "After being threatened, Santos will put India on a war footing. Without the support of the military, it's going to be tough for Rahul to get rid of Santos. So, he'll meet secretly with Naval Commander Das and Army Commander Watal tonight," Miles glanced at his watch, "about eight hours from now. If these two join Rahul, Santos will have to step down tomorrow."

  "Will Das and Vohra fall at Rahul's feet?"

  Miles smiled and shook his head, saying: "Who can say for sure? But we absolutely cannot allow such a thing to happen."

  Pamela just nodded silently.

  "To ensure nothing goes wrong, I want you to do something right away."

  "What?" Parmel avoided Miles' gaze, knowing it wouldn't be good.

  "In your capacity as a CIA operative, issue orders to the secret team sent by the CIA to India, namely Major Beckett's special forces unit, to carry out a special mission."

  "Assassinate Gandhi!?" Palmer jumped in fright, "Miles, have you gone mad?"

  The U.S. senator from New York smiled faintly and didn't rush to speak.

  "The two things we did last time, until now have not been able to shake off the connection, and we don't even know if China has grasped our intelligence. If there's another mistake, it won't just be us who are finished, but also the country will be implicated."

  "Afraid of being implicated yourself?"

  Pamell shut his mouth. He was indeed afraid of being implicated, Jonathan had already been fired for this reason, and if he got involved in this muddy water, the outcome would not be much better than Jonathan's.

  "Roger, you should know I don't give second chances to anyone." Myles' gaze turned exceptionally sharp, as if possessing infinite lethality. "Do you know why I can get accurate intelligence before the CIA? If not, there are many people who would be happy to serve us."

  Pamela's face changed color and she looked terrified.

  "And besides, this isn't something we're doing ourselves. All Beckett has to do is install a signal transmitter in the right location, and everything else will take care of itself."

  Pamela frowned slightly, not understanding Miles' meaning.

  "I'll have accurate intel for you in four hours, Beckett's team needs to complete the mission within two hours." Miles glanced at his watch, "If everything goes smoothly, someone will help us take care of Rahul."

  Pamela was startled and suddenly thought of something. "You... you want to borrow..."

  "That's enough." Miles cut off Parmel's words, "You just need to use the Deputy Director of Operations' high-level authority to alter the orders issued by Wesley, and I'll take care of the rest. Got it?"

  "Will it...?"

  "Good job, and in two years you'll be director of Central Intelligence. Bad job, this is our last meeting."

  Pamela knew Miles wasn't joking and she also knew that she couldn't afford to mess with the group he represented.

  "The bill has already been taken care of, next time I'll treat you to a real Blue Mountain coffee. Wait half an hour after I leave before you go." Miles stood up, "After Jonassen was fired, you became our key target for development."

  After patting Pam's shoulder, Miles left the coffee shop.

  Pamir didn't feel relieved at all, because he knew that he was involved in a huge conspiracy.

  At this time, Wesley had just walked into the Oval Office of the White House, and Jaber was annotating a document.

  "Klaas, don't let anyone disturb us." Having instructed his secretary, Jaber nodded to Wesley and then closed the listening device.

  "Just received intel, China's J-10 fighter jets have what we need."

  "Got it?"

  Wesley shook his head. "Our people were a few minutes late and didn't get the goods. Preliminary analysis indicates that China deployed special forces to rescue the pilots stranded in Indian territory and destroyed the wreckage of the plane."

  Jiapel put down the pen in his hand. "You mean..."

  "Action teams need higher authority." Wesley put the documents he brought in front of the President, "The air battle is mainly concentrated over Indian-controlled Kashmir, and our troops are deployed in Chandigarh, unable to arrive at the crash site in time. Need to deploy them in advance to the Kashmir region and give them freedom of action."

  "Will this cause the troops to lose control?"

  "Major Beckett has served in the Marine Corps for fourteen years, and with us for seven. He's an outstanding military man. His team is comprised of the best special operatives who know what to do and what not to do." Wesley kept his eyes fixed on the President, not avoiding his gaze. "In order to get results, we have to give them enough leeway to operate effectively, without tying their hands."

  Jiapel nodded slightly and thought for a moment before saying, "Does it require my authorization?"

  It's obvious that this question doesn't even need an answer. If it didn't require the president's authorization, Wesley wouldn't have made a special trip for it.

  When Wesley obtained written authorization, Serafati walked into the Indian Prime Minister's office.

  After listening to Serati's "story", Santos was shocked and his eyes widened in amazement, but only half of it was an act.

  Before Serra arrived, Santos had learned from Macri that Rahul Gandhi had met with the main members of the Congress party and had also been in contact with representatives of other parties in the ruling coalition. What Santos did not know was that Rahul Gandhi had secretly contacted high-ranking military officials to seek their support.

  "Prime Minister, you have... " Serati glanced at his watch, "less than seven hours."

  "Will Intel be wrong?" Santos came back to himself.

  "Do you doubt the intelligence we've provided?" Serati sneered, "In seven hours, whether you like it or not, you will have to pack your bags and leave the Prime Minister's residence."

  This sentence pierced deeply into Santos' soul wound.

  When he was young, Santos chose to escape reality by joining the army so as not to be a stepping stone for his family members. Now he has nowhere to hide and can no longer tolerate Rahul trampling on him to reach the pinnacle of power.

  Cannot tolerate, absolutely cannot tolerate.

  "Your Excellency, you just need to provide relevant intelligence, and we'll take care of the rest. There's no need for you to intervene."

  "What will be the outcome?" Santos raised his head.

  "What's the result?" Serati sighed, "Don't you understand yet? Not only can you continue to live in the Prime Minister's residence, but you will also be supported by the people and become a national hero of India. Of course, on the condition that you draft your speech tonight and appear on TV on time."

  Santos gritted his teeth and picked up the receiver.

  Serati walked over and pressed the speakerphone button as soon as the call connected. Santos glared at the audacious intelligence liaison officer, but was helpless to do anything about it.

  "I am Mark..."

  "Markley, it's Santos. I need the intel you've gathered."

  "Intelligence?"

  "The intelligence you were ordered to gather last time."

  "Okay, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

  After hanging up the phone, Santos let out a sigh.

  Now that it has come to this, he has no other choice.