Chapter 142: Easy Pickings |
Bai Mu arrived at the Gas Station once again. This time, he decided to be a bit bolder. Using Plainclothes Photography, he scanned a soldier's uniform and ducked into a corner to transform his own clothing into the same green camouflage.
Security at the Gas Station hadn't tightened at all since he stole a jerrycan of gasoline last time. The atmosphere remained lifeless and lax. Military vehicles came and went with hardly anyone speaking a word, while the soldiers on duty were either drinking or staring blankly into space.
When one of the soldiers stepped outside the Gas Station for a smoke, Bai Mu quietly slipped inside.
No one noticed him. The sweltering heat had left everyone completely drained and listless.
The Gas Station wasn't very large. Aside from the refueling area, there was only a single warehouse and three brightly lit break rooms. A few empty military vehicles were parked along the perimeter.
Bai Mu hid near the restrooms, using the reflective surface of a mirror to observe the military vehicles behind him.
He spotted a vehicle pulling into the open-air parking lot. The driver pulled the keys from the ignition, and a full squad of soldiers disembarked, heading toward the break rooms. Bai Mu summoned the Hand of Walrider. His invisible third hand silently slipped into the driver's pocket, retrieved the keys, and dropped them into a crevice between the wall bricks.
He waited for the coast to clear before stepping out of the restroom. Bending down to retrieve the keys, he casually walked over to the military vehicle alone, opened the door, and slipped into the driver's seat.
Throughout the entire process, he was careful not to let anyone see his face. With his tall, straight posture and the green military cap pulled low, he looked exactly like any other burly soldier from behind.
After all, this Gas Station was just a minor supply point, not some top-secret stronghold or classified fortress.
The stuffy cabin reeked of stale sweat and unwashed boots. A few discarded hats and jackets littered the interior, but there were no guns or ammunition in sight. The soldiers had likely kept their weapons on them, or perhaps this was merely a scout vehicle. However, Bai Mu did strike gold with two items: a modified dashboard radio and the vehicle's patrol manifest.
The manifest outlined the squad's designated patrol sectors and schedules. Better yet, it included a highly detailed map of the city, with various zones color-coded by different marker pens.
Bai Mu quickly located his current neighborhood. It sat somewhere between the city's center and its outer limits. The surrounding buildings were somewhat sparse, putting it quite a distance away from high-density areas like schools, hospitals, and large shopping malls.
The immediate vicinity was circled in yellow marker, while his own apartment building had been marked with a fine-tipped red ballpoint cross.
These red crosses seemed to indicate confirmed fatality zones—places where people had explicitly been killed by Doppelgangers. He noticed that the apartment building was crossed out as well, and similar clusters of red marks dotted the entire map.
Furthermore, Bai Mu noticed several hospitals circled in red marker, labeled with the words "Quarantine Zone" and "Corpse Disposal." Near the downtown district, black marker lines blockaded several major intersections. He also managed to pinpoint the exact location of the Emergency Center, situated right in the heart of the city.
After a cursory scan of the manifest pinned to the dashboard, Bai Mu pulled out his Night Vision Camcorder. He framed the map, flicked on the flash, and snapped a rapid series of photos to document the intel.
Rummaging through the glove compartment, he discovered a few boxes of ammunition and a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He left the bullets alone but pocketed the smokes.
Next, he patted down the pockets of the discarded jackets. Unfortunately, there was nothing of value—just chewing gum, crumpled tissues, and a few pin-up photos of models, none of which were of any use to him.
Finding nothing else worthwhile, he finally turned his attention to the dashboard radio.
Embedded directly into the console, it was likely what the soldiers used to receive their orders. The brass would broadcast missions to the various patrol sectors over a public military channel, allowing for rapid communication during emergencies.
It was far more efficient than a standard telephone. This Script was set in an era where landlines still ruled; smartphones didn't exist, and satellite phones were exorbitant luxuries reserved strictly for high-ranking brass.
Bai Mu couldn't take it with him. The radio was hardwired into the dashboard. Ripping it out cleanly wouldn't be easy, and doing so would leave obvious signs of tampering, immediately alerting the squad that their vehicle had been breached.
That would only put the soldiers on high alert. If security tightened, his next infiltration attempt wouldn't be nearly as smooth.
He still planned on using this place as his personal resupply point. If he could sneak in and skim a few supplies every so often, he could sustain himself long-term. Therefore, he simply kept the volume low and clicked the radio on.
The radio had its own independent power supply, allowing it to function without the engine running. Bai Mu pressed his ear against the speaker and listened to the chatter. "This is Dispatch calling the Quarantine Zone. Squad 4-23 is bringing in the quarantined individuals. Please stand by to receive." "Quarantine Zone copies. Acknowledging receipt."
"Sector 41, reporting all clear."
"Sector 23, reporting all clear."
"Squad 3-21 has arrived at the target zone. The situation is out of control. Requesting permission for suppressive fire."
"Permission granted. Suppressive fire authorized."
A mess of chaotic cross-talk crackled back and forth over the public military frequency.
Bai Mu realized that the radio wasn't restricted to military channels; it could also pick up civilian broadcasts. Fiddling with the dial, he soon isolated the approximate frequency the military was using.
Based on his experience, the channel wasn't heavily encrypted; it just broadcasted on a highly obscure wavelength. With a little fine-tuning, he would be able to intercept the signal using his own radio back at the apartment.
After memorizing the frequency, he slipped out of the vehicle.
He guided the Hand of Walrider to discreetly drop the car keys right at the driver's feet. The soldier was busy drinking and playing cards with his buddies in the break room. When he finally glanced down and spotted his keys, he didn't seem suspicious in the slightest, likely assuming they had just slipped out of his pocket. He simply scooped them up and tossed them onto the card table.
Before leaving, Bai Mu couldn't resist stealing a bit more gasoline. He didn't take a whole jerrycan this time. The container he'd nicked previously was still sitting in his inventory. Taking advantage of the empty yard, he crept into the warehouse and siphoned about two liters of fuel directly from a drum.
Since he hadn't even taken a container this time, leaving any trace would be nearly impossible.
Besides the gasoline, a large stockpile of military rations was stacked in the corner of the warehouse.
Since he was already here, it would be rude to leave empty-handed. Bai Mu swiped four ration packs. With dozens of them piled up, noticing a missing four would be incredibly difficult.
As for the weapons and ammunition, he decided to leave them be.
After all, he planned to come back again. As the old saying went, unfamiliar the first time, well-acquainted the second. Having visited twice now, treating this place like his own personal pantry felt completely natural.