A WEEK EARLIER!

Colonel Zacharai Brooks stormed down the corridor towards the president's office, his irritation palpable. He ranted under his breath, "Damn that young man. As if he could identify a real threat when it comes." 

"Calm down, my friend," Director Michael Summers said, walking alongside him. "The young man was just doing his job. Don't transfer your frustration onto him. He isn't our problem right now."

As they reached the office door at the end of the long passage from the lift, they identified with secretary who ushered them inside. 

"Welcome, Colonel, and Director. Please be seated," the president said, his voice steady but his brow furrowed with concern. "Have my questions regarding the ambush and the killing of our soldiers been answered? This situation is damaging my image. How can terrorists know our secret moves?"

"Sir, that's the crux of the investigation," Director Michael began, his tone professional yet urgent. "We've conducted a series of inquiries and have come to the conclusion that this information was leaked from inside our ranks."

"Is that even possible? We've kept this within our top-ranking officials. Does this mean we're harboring terrorists within the military?" The president's voice trembled with a mix of fear and betrayal.

"Sir," Michael continued, maintaining his composure, "terrorists need funding and weapons, meaningthat the people behind this powerful and influential It's possible that our ranks have been infiltrated . We want to initiate a deep undercover investigation to identify how high this goes. We need someone who is not on anyone's radar—an unknown player."

"But we have agents for this type of work," the president interjected, crossing his arms defensively.

"Sir, we can't use them" Colonel Zacharai interjected after a long pause, emphatically he continued "As Michael said, we don't know how deep this runs. If we send our agents, they could be compromised. We have a candidate for this mission—someone who isn't on the records and who shares our concerns. In fact, he understands the grief from the failed mission."

"And who is this non-existent person?" the president asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

"Well, sir," Zacharai said, leaning forward, "let's just call him Agent One."

---

The flickering light of the television danced across the room, casting long shadows over the polished furniture. Lious Stilgan sat in silence, his eyes locked on the screen. The devastation was undeniable—charred remains of homes, lines of displaced families, their faces etched with fear. But what held his attention wasn't the ruins of the village or the aftermath of the attack. It was the steady voice of the reporter on-site.

His daughter, Lilly Stilgan.

"This is Lilly Stilgan, reporting from the village of Manzar. Thousands have been forced to flee their homes as terrorists continue their assault on the region. Villagers claim they've been left defenseless, with no government aid and no military protection. The humanitarian crisis is escalating, with no end in sight..."*

Lious exhaled heavily, the tension in his chest growing. Lilly always had that calm authority in her voice, but to him, this wasn't where she belonged. Not in the middle of a war zone, chasing stories about insurgents and displaced people. She could have chosen a different path—a safer path. Pharmacy, Business administration. Anything but this.

Across from him, Edward Stilgan reclined in his seat, sipping from a half-filled glass of wine. His expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on the screen as Lilly continued her report.

Edward glanced at Lious, reading the worry on his brother's face. "Still think she made the wrong choice?"

Lious shifted in his seat but said nothing. He could feel the familiar frustration bubbling up inside him. "If she'd practiced marketing like I suggested," he muttered, "she wouldn't be standing in the middle of a battlefield. She could have had a future that didn't involve risking her life every day."

Edward sighed, shaking his head slightly. "It's her calling, Lious. You've got to accept that. Besides, she's damn good at it. Remember how she exposed that senator's corruption? She's making a difference."

Lious wasn't convinced. To him, this was a dangerous world she didn't need to be part of. But the argument had grown tired, and he wasn't in the mood for another round of it. The news broadcast carried on, showing more scenes of the destroyed village and the people Lilly was there to help with her stories.

After a long silence, Edward leaned forward, setting his glass down on the side table. "You were telling me earlier—about the company's finances. Something wasn't adding up?"

Lious turned his attention away from the television, remembering the troubling findings he'd stumbled upon. "I've been going over the accounts, and there's been a pattern of money moving in and out that doesn't sit right with me. Transfers that weren't approved by the board. It's not just small amounts, either. I've started digging into it more."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "You think someone's skimming?"

Lious frowned. "I don't know yet. But I'm not ruling it out."

Edward nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Best to get to the bottom of it, then. Can't let something like that slip by." He paused, casting a glance at the screen where Lilly's report was wrapping up. "Looks like we've all got things we need to investigate."

The final words of Lilly's report echoed in the room as the broadcast ended. "This has been Lilly Stilgan, reporting for *Fact Around Events*. See you tomorrow."

As the screen faded to black, Lious sat back in his chair, his mind heavy with thoughts of his daughter, the company, and the country's unraveling state. Somewhere in all this chaos, the truth was waiting to be uncovered. He just didn't know how close it already was.