As the old SUV edged closer to the PRK border checkpoint at Oumar Karim that crossed into the less developed Modibo, the atmosphere grew tense, palpable anticipation mingling with the stifling heat of the midday sun. Rows of cars stretched out before them, each one subjected to thorough searches by armed guards who had their rifles held at the ready as they scrutinized every vehicle and the documents of the occupants that passed through.
Inside the SUV, Marcus and his team sat in strained silence, their nerves fraying with each passing moment. EAGLE headquarters was eerily silent. Marcus couldn't remember the last time he had successfully completed a mission and headquarters would be so quiet. In addition to that, Colonel Dubois had hurriedly discharged them outside of the usual protocols. They had to find their way home themselves. Oumar Karim had also become on edge in the past twelve hours. Something felt amiss. All the members of the team could feel the undead and wanted to leave the country as soon as possible.
Sophia was driving. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to remain composed. Behind her was Willy, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting nervously to and fro. He had never been a prisoner in a foreign country before and didn't want there to be a first time.
Charlotte, ever vigilant, kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, her sharp gaze sweeping over the scene before them as she assessed the security measures in place. Marcus sat in the passenger seat beside Sophia, the epitome of calm under pressure, a steely resolve on his face, his jaw clenched in determination. He was acutely aware of their surroundings, but still deep in thought.
As they inched forward in the gridlock of traffic, Marcus noticed the intensity of the searches only seemed to escalate as the border guards were getting exasperated, each car subjected to more thorough inspections than the last. Guards with sniffer dogs prowled the lines of vehicles, their keen senses there to detect even the slightest hint of contraband or suspicion.
Marcus had his eyes on the soldiers at the PRK border checkpoint. There was something special going on. This didn't feel like a routine check, it felt like there had been a security breach in the country and security personnel were on high alert. He noticed that the officers stationed at the cubicle had been looking at their nondescript old SUV. An old SUV with four foreigners with faces that looked as stern as theirs did, it was understandable that the vehicle and its occupants would draw their attention. The officers exchanged glances.
Sophia could feel the weight of their scrutiny, her gaze flicking to the rearview mirror where she caught sight of two officers whispering and pointing in their direction. "Marcus, we've got eyes on us," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.
Marcus turned slightly, his expression impassive but his mind racing. "Stay calm. We stick to the plan," he replied, his voice steady despite the rising tension. "Willy, get ready with the papers."
Willy nodded, his hands already retrieving their documents from his bag. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Charlotte kept her eyes on the approaching officers, her sharp gaze noting every detail of their movements.
The SUV inched forward, the gridlock of traffic ensuring their slow advance. Marcus could feel the eyes of the law enforcement officers boring into them, their suspicion palpable. The officers, two men in their late thirties with stern expressions and sharp eyes, began making their way towards the SUV, weaving through the stalled cars.
"Marcus, they're coming this way," Charlotte whispered, her tone calm but alert.
Marcus gave a slight nod, signaling for everyone to stay composed. "Sophia, just answer their questions straightforwardly. No sudden movements."
The officers reached the SUV, their hands resting on the holsters of their sidearms, their postures exuding authority. One of them, a tall man with a closely cropped beard, rapped on the driver's window with a gloved knuckle.
"Good morning," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of suspicion. "Papers, please."
Sophia rolled down the window, her face a mask of polite compliance. "Of course, officer," she said, handing over the documents Willy handed her from behind. The officer took them, his eyes flicking over the papers before scrutinizing the faces of the occupants inside the vehicle.
"What brings you to the border today?" the second officer, shorter but with an equally intimidating presence, asked, leaning in to peer through the windows.
"We're heading to visit family just across the border," Sophia replied smoothly, her tone casual. "It's his grandfather's 86th birthday." She smiled as she pointed at Marcus. Marcus smiled at the officers. "It's been a while since he's seen his family. We're his plus one." The more basic the story, the more believable it is, Alex had always said.
The tall officer continued to study the papers, his expression unreadable. "Family, you say? Which town?"
"Ouagadougou," Marcus interjected, his voice steady. "That's where my relatives are. It's just a short visit." He reached into the glovebox slowly and retrieved a small gift-wrapped box. With a smile, he said, "I got them something."
The officer handed back the papers, his gaze lingering on each of them for a moment longer. "Drive safely," he said finally, stepping back and allowing them to proceed.
Sophia nodded, rolling up the window and slowly inching the SUV forward. As they got closer to the border office, Marcus' mind remained sharp and alert.
"They're still watching us," Charlotte said quietly, her eyes on the rearview mirror.
"Let's not give them a reason to follow," Marcus replied. "Stick to the plan. We're almost there."
As the SUV crept through the gridlock, Sophia turned on the radio, hoping to drown out the oppressive silence the tension in the air was causing. The crackle of static was quickly replaced by the crisp voice of a news anchor.
"Breaking news this morning: Cheikh Abdoulaye, prominent political figure and presidential candidate with the Progressive Alliance Congress, was assassinated late last night. Authorities have identified Novarican citizens, Marcus Steele, Willy Vreven, Sophia Jackson, and Charlotte Harris as the primary suspects. Speculation is that they're mercenaries paid by the opposition party, the People's Democratic Alliance. A national manhunt is now underway, with border checkpoints and airports on high alert."
The tension inside the SUV ratcheted up instantly. Marcus's jaw clenched as he tried to keep his composure. He pulled out his phone and attempted to reach Alex Winslow, but after several rings, it went straight to voicemail.
"Dammit," Marcus muttered under his breath. "Can't get through to Winslow."
Charlotte's sharp eyes flicked to the side mirror. "Marcus, we've got trouble. Border soldiers, moving to surround us."
Marcus glanced back, spotting the soldiers fanning out, their movements precise and deliberate. "I bet those two officers were just sizing us up. Everyone, stay calm," he ordered, his voice low but firm. "Get weapons-ready, but keep them hidden for now. We may need to fight our way out."
Willy, sitting in the back, reached into the SUV's boot and discreetly unzipped his backpack, handing out weapons. Sophia kept her eyes on the road but reached down to grip the handle of her concealed SIG Sauer M18. Charlotte, ever alert, placed her hand on hers. She kept her eyes moving from Marcus who was still trying to reach headquarters and the events unfolding around them.
The SUV inched forward, the border checkpoint office looming closer, the tension almost unbearable. The soldiers' movements became more coordinated, tightening the noose around the SUV. Marcus tilted the rearview mirror to his direction as he watched the soldiers moving in crouched positions from car to car, getting people out of their cars and urging them to get to safety.
Marcus glanced at Sophia. "Keep driving slowly. Don't make any sudden moves. We'll wait for the right moment."
Sophia nodded, her face a mask of concentration. The radio continued to blare the news of their supposed crimes, the words "dangerous" and "armed" repeated like a mantra.
As the soldiers closed in, Marcus's mind raced, assessing their options. They needed a plan, and fast.