The heavy oak doors of President Lamine Mamadou's office swung open, admitting the Novarican ambassador into the opulent chamber. With a sense of gravity in his demeanor, he stepped forward to meet President Mamadou and his chief of staff, who awaited him at the desk.
"Mr. President, Chief of Staff," the ambassador greeted with a nod.
President Mamadou rose from his chair, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Ambassador, this is the most difficult time and you shouldn't be here," he said, still gesturing for the ambassador to take a seat.
The ambassador sat, taking a deep breath, before delivering his news. "Mr. President, Chief of Staff, our intelligence reports suggest that Marcus's team was responsible for the assassination of Cheikh Abdoulaye," he revealed, his tone grave.
President Mamadou's brow furrowed in disbelief as he absorbed the shocking revelation. "Are you certain of this?" he pressed, his voice tinged with urgency.
The chief of staff, standing beside Mamadou, leaned in with a furrowed brow, awaiting the ambassador's response.
The ambassador nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mr. President. The evidence is compelling, and we cannot ignore the implications of such an act," he confirmed, his voice unwavering.
Mamadou exchanged a glance with his chief of staff, a flicker of concern passing between them. "This is grave news indeed," Mamadou murmured, his mind racing with the implications of the accusation.
As the weight of the revelation settled in the room, the chief of staff turned to the ambassador, a furrow forming on his brow. "Who exactly is Marcus and his team?" he inquired.
The ambassador cleared his throat. "Marcus Steele is also known as Sentinel. He leads the team. He's one of the most efficient EAGLE counterterrorism operatives we've ever had with a lengthy and very well decorated background in the military," the ambassador explained, his tone measured.
"His team consists of Sophia Jackson, a seasoned sniper with unparalleled marksmanship skills, Willy Vreven who serves as the tech specialist, very adept at hacking and electronic warfare," the ambassador continued, "and Charlotte Harris."
The chief of staff nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Ambassador. We need to act swiftly to address this situation," he remarked.
President Lamine Mamadou's expression darkened with anger and disbelief as he processed the situation. "This is outrageous! Are you certain of these allegations?" he demanded, his voice rising with indignation.
The ambassador met Mamadou's gaze. "Mr. President, I understand the gravity of this accusation, but our resources are at your disposal."
"But I need more than just saying 'intelligence reports' to take such drastic action," he retorted, his frustration evident in his voice. "I need concrete evidence to support these claims before we jump to conclusions."
"Mr. President, I understand your skepticism, but our intelligence sources are reliable. My office will send you the documents."
Mamadou nodded thoughtfully, his anger slowly giving way to a steely determination. "Very well," he conceded, his voice firm. "But make no mistake, if Marcus and his team are indeed responsible for this heinous act, they will face the full force of the law."
—
The heavy oak doors of President Lamine Mamadou's office opened again, admitting the commissioner of police into the opulent chamber. He approached the President and his chief of staff, a thick file clutched tightly in his hand.
"Mr. President, Chief of Staff," the commissioner greeted with a nod, his expression grave.
President Mamadou's eyes narrowed as he regarded the commissioner, his voice clipped with impatience. "What's the report, Commissioner?" he demanded.
The commissioner opened the detailed report folder in his hands. "Mr. President, Chief of Staff, our investigation reveals that the assassination of Cheikh Abdoulaye was a meticulously planned operation," he began. "The assailants utilized a garbage truck to block the convoy's path, creating a diversion. Moments later, a powerful explosion rocked the street, targeting the convoy's vehicle." The commissioner's expression remained grim. "Our preliminary findings indicate that a sniper positioned nearby took the kill shot."
President Mamadou turned to his chief of staff, a flicker of realization dawning in his eyes. "It appears that the ambassador's reports were indeed accurate. The sniper would've been Ms. Jackson," he murmured.
The chief of staff exchanged a meaningful glance with the President. "Indeed, Mr. President. The evidence speaks for itself," he affirmed, his voice somber.
President Mamadou's facial expression moved to determination. "Commissioner, I want you to launch a nationwide manhunt for Marcus and his team," he commanded, his tone unwavering. "They are to be viewed as enemies of the state and branded as terrorists."
The commissioner nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mr. President. We will mobilize every available resource to track them down so we can bring them to justice," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.
President Mamadou's gaze hardened as he continued, his words laced with urgency. "Shut down the borders and airports. I want them crawling with law enforcement, ensuring that there is no chance for them to escape out of the country," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
The commissioner nodded once more. "Consider it done, Mr. President. We will not rest until Marcus and his team are apprehended," he affirmed.
—
General Ismail Diop, clad in his military uniform adorned with medals and insignias, paced back and forth in his office at the Oumar Karim military barracks in the capital. With a furrowed brow, he lifted the receiver of the phone on his desk and dialed the number of Colonel Jacques Dubois, commander of the Novarican military base in Oumar Karim.
"Colonel Dubois, this is General Diop," he greeted.
"General Diop, what can I do for you?" came Colonel Dubois' crisp French/Novarican accent over the line.
"I need your assistance, Colonel. Our intelligence reports tell us that Marcus and his team have been at your base recently," General Diop explained, his tone grave.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Colonel Dubois responded. "I understand your concern, General. However, I must inform you that although yes, Marcus and his team were here briefly, they have been discharged from our base," he reassured, his voice steady.
General Diop's brow furrowed in frustration. "Discharged? When?"
"Just earlier tonight, General. They left the base shortly after," Colonel Dubois replied, his tone calm and composed.
General Diop sighed heavily. "Thank you for the information, Colonel. Please keep me updated on any developments."
"Of course, General. I will inform you immediately if we receive any further information regarding Marcus and his team," Colonel Dubois promised.
General Diop ended the call and leaned back in his chair. He dialed the president's office.
—
The silence of the night was shattered by the heavy thud of military boots, as a team of PRK soldiers descended upon Colonel Jacques Dubois's house. They were wearing a tactical vest and pants with reinforced knees and ample pockets, a helmet, goggles, ballistic-resistant body armor, and M4 rifles. They burst in with flashbangs and began shouting.
Their footsteps echoed in the halls of the house as they ransacked every room with ruthless efficiency. Drawers were yanked open, furniture overturned, and closets emptied onto the floor in their relentless pursuit of clues.
Colonel Dubois rushed down the stairs into his study where they were. He was wearing navy blue pajamas with a subtle pinstripe pattern. "You have no right to do this!" he protested.
The soldier leading the party, a stern-faced sergeant with a hardened demeanor, met the colonel's gaze without flinching. "We are under orders to confiscate any documents that may be relevant to our investigation," he replied, his tone clipped and authoritative.
Colonel Dubois bristled at the soldier's response, his fists clenching at his sides. "Those documents are classified. They are not to be touched by anyone outside of my command," he retorted.
The sergeant remained unmoved, his expression unyielding. "I have my orders, sir. We cannot take any chances. Our orders are clear," he replied, his tone firm.
"Mark my words, this will not go unnoticed."
The soldiers collected all the documents from the study, with another team coming down from the master bedroom and prepared to leave. Colonel Dubois was still seething with anger and frustration.
Dubois paced back and forth in his study, his mind racing with a mix of anger and frustration. With hands trembling in anger, he picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for the call to connect.
After several tense moments, the line clicked, and a voice crackled through the receiver. "This is Colonel Dubois," he began, keeping his voice steady. "I need to report a grave violation of protocol."
On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence before the voice of his superior responded. "Go on, Colonel. What happened?" came the terse reply, laced with curiosity and concern.
Colonel Dubois recounted the events of the night, detailing the raid on his house and the confiscation of classified documents by PRK soldiers. With each word, his frustration grew.
"I cannot begin to express the gravity of this situation," he continued, his voice rising with emotion. "We have been compromised, and our trust has been violated. Something must be done."
His superior on the other end of the line listened in silence, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Colonel," came the response. "We will launch an investigation immediately and take appropriate action."
Colonel Dubois dropped the phone, still feeling a sense of apprehension. He had helped Marcus and his team escape as soon as he saw the fax from the headquarters that had them as the prime suspects for the Cheikh Abdoulaye killing. He had known Marcus for more than fifteen years and even if the reports were true, he felt a sense of loyalty to help. But above all, he knew the reports couldn't have been true because he had organized the HALO jump into the Amouri forest for them and the exfiltration back.