Chapter 21 — The Journey of the Missing Bronze Drum

At 3:30 in the morning, three unmarked cars were parked scattered about a kilometer away from the industrial park, all lights were off, the engine cooled down in the chilly pre-dawn air. Diem sat in Hai's car, her hands clasped on the radio, her ears listening to the steady breathing of the reconnaissance team members reporting their positions via encrypted communication channels.

"Section one is in position, fifty meters from the main gate," a hoarse voice came over the radio.

"Second unit is in position, thirty meters from the side gate, observed the white truck still parked in the same place," another voice reported.

Hai glanced at his watch, the screen light was faint in the darkness of the car. "Twenty minutes left. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Diem replied, even though her heart was beating so fast that she could feel each beat reverberate up to her temples. She looked out the glass window, the night sky was pitch black, only the high pressure lights in the distance in the industrial park cast a weak yellow halo.

Fifteen minutes passed in tense silence. Diem used that time to review in her mind one last time the entire sequence of operations she needed to perform when approaching the artifact, if indeed the bronze drum was in cold storage: check the overall external condition before moving, take photos of the current state from many angles, confirm and compare the pattern with the original excavation records, and then proceed to the step of packing and transporting according to preservation standards.

She pulled the worn leather notebook out of her inner pocket, didn't open it, just held it tightly in her palm for a moment, like an invisible talisman. Twelve years ago, Mr. Trac also sat in the dark like this, waiting for a similar moment, not knowing that it would be the last night of his life. That thought made Diem shiver, but she pushed it aside, focusing back on the task at hand.

Through the radio, the breathing sounds of the reconnaissance team members were still steady, occasionally mixed with brief reports about the situation around the target - no unusual movements, the lights inside the warehouse were still weak, no signs that the appearance of outside forces had been detected inside.

"Five minutes left," Hai said, his voice had completely changed to a cold commanding state, different from his usual friendly tone. He checked his personal weapons, armor, communication devices, each move was decisive and skillful.

Diem felt a hand placed gently on her shoulder. She turned and saw Hai looking at her, his serious eyes mixed with sincere concern.

"Stick with me the whole time I'm in there," he said. "No matter what happens, don't be more than five meters away from me. I need to know you're always within range of protection."

"I understand," she replied, her voice more certain than she expected.

"One minute left," the commander's voice came over the radio. "All shots prepared."

Diem took a deep breath, feeling the cold air rushing into her chest, trying to suppress all the emotions that were swirling - fear, nervousness, and even a fragile hope that she didn't dare to name, afraid that calling it out would cause it to shatter before it could come true.

"Three, two, one. Action."

The command rang out over the radio, and immediately, the sound of the car engine roared in all three directions, breaking the silence of the night. Hai's car rushed straight towards the side gate, where the second nose was approaching. Two special forces soldiers quickly controlled the guard who was dozing in the small guard tower, unable to react.

"Auxiliary gate under control," the voice reported over the radio.

Diem and Hai got out of the car, ran quickly through the opened gate, and entered the courtyard area of the cold storage. The headlights from the special forces vehicles swept horizontally and vertically, illuminating a large yard, where several workers working the night shift stood panic-stricken against the wall, instinctively raising their hands to surrender when they saw the armed forces approaching.

"No one moves! Stay where you are!" a loud voice shouted from the task force.

One of the workers, a middle-aged man wearing a labor protection uniform, tremblingly raised his hands high, stammering something that sounded like "we're just employees, we don't know anything" — a statement that suddenly reminded Diem of the young forklift driver she interrogated yesterday afternoon, once again reminding her that this ring, although sophisticated and ruthless at the top, still relied on the hands of ordinary people who had no idea they were aiding in what they were doing. what.

The first officer, in charge of the main gate, had also completed control of the security area. A voice reported over the radio confirming that no vehicle had time to leave the main gate before being blocked.

Diem followed closely behind Hai, the two rushed straight towards the main door of the warehouse, where light shone from the narrow gap in the door. A heavy steel door blocks the entrance, locked tightly with a modern digital lock.

"Break the door!" Hai shouted over the radio.

The technical team immediately advanced and used specialized cutting equipment to attack the door hinge. The deafening sound of metal grinding against each other rang out in the quiet space of the industrial park, mixed with the shouts of command and the pounding footsteps of dozens of people moving in tactical formation.

Diem stood close to the wall next to Hai, her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes not taking her eyes off the steel door that was slowly opening under the cutting force of the specialized equipment. She clearly felt that each passing second seemed to last forever, different from the feeling of time passing quickly that she was familiar with in her meticulous daily appraisal work.

"Almost done," a technician shouted, sweating profusely despite the cold night air. "Thirty more seconds."

Inside, through the slowly opening crack of the door, Diem caught a glimpse of cold white fluorescent lights shining down on a large space, tall metal shelves lined up, and somewhere at the end, a smaller door led into what appeared to be the main cold room that the reconnaissance team had mentioned in the planning meeting.

Just as the door began to open, another noise rang out from the back of the building — the sound of a motorbike engine revving, the sound of wheels scraping against the ground, and a figure dashed across the dark yard, heading straight toward a small exit that the reconnaissance team had not yet completely blocked, weaving between two rows of auxiliary warehouses.

"Someone is fleeing to the Northeast!" a voice shouted over the radio, urgently.

Diem turned her head sharply in the direction of the sound, just in time to see a familiar figure, the characteristic straight-backed posture she had seen through binoculars not long ago, rushing through the weak light and then disappearing into the darkness behind rows of stacked containers.

"Vu Bach Long," she shouted, pointing in the direction the figure had just disappeared. "He's running away!"

Hai turned around, signaled two nearby special forces soldiers to chase in the Northeast direction, and at the same time reported via radio to the second unit guarding the side gate to prepare to block the escape route. "The main suspect is hiding towards the side gate, all units pay attention!"

"You go inside with the technical team, check the artifacts as soon as the door is fully open," he said quickly to Diem, his voice decisive and without any hesitation. "I will lead the pursuit. Do not leave the controlled area, no matter what."

"But you said we weren't more than five meters apart—"

"This time is different," Hai interrupted, already starting to run northeast with two special forces soldiers. "Your mission is the object. My mission is the person. Both are equally important, but cannot be done at the same time in the same place."

Diem stood still for a few seconds, torn between her instinct to run after Hai and her reason to remind her of her professional responsibilities. Finally, she turned around and ran towards the steel door that had just been completely opened, where the technical team was entering, flashlights scanning the vast space inside.

The sound of motorbike engines roared farther and farther to the Northeast, mixed with the sound of sirens and the rumbling footsteps of people running, but Diem forced herself not to look back, not to let anything distract her focus from the task she had been waiting twelve years to perform.

She walked through the deformed steel door frame, the flashlight in her hand quickly scanned the large warehouse space, the cold air left over from the old cooling system made her breath appear as thin smoke in the air. At the end of the row of shelves, the door leading to the main cold room appeared, ajar, a thin slit of light shining from inside.

Diem signaled the two accompanying technicians to stop. She herself stepped forward, placing her hand lightly on the cold metal door, her heart beating so rapidly that she could clearly hear each beat echoing in her chest amidst the chilling silence of this cold room.