2. The Debrief

                                    

                                          
The room fell into a heavy silence as Captain Price took his place at the head of the table. The digital map projected on the wall behind him illuminated the dimly lit room, casting shadows over the serious expressions of those present. I could feel the intensity of the moment—the kind of tension that only arises when something significant is at stake.
"Listen up," Price began, his voice commanding attention. "We just wrapped up operations in Al Mazrah, and it's clear we're dealing with more than just a rogue terror cell. Al-Qatala has been making moves like a well-oiled machine, and they're being supplied by someone with deep pockets and a hell of a lot of influence."
As he spoke, the map behind him zoomed in on the Middle East, key locations highlighted in red. "Our objective was to intercept a convoy transporting advanced missile systems—high-grade weapons capable of causing massive damage. We took out the convoy, but the man behind the curtain is still out there."
Gaz leaned forward, his face grim. "Did we manage to ID the supplier?"
Price nodded, a serious expression on his face. "We've identified the arms supplier—Hassan Zyani. He's a key player in this network, providing Al-Qatala with everything they need to wage their war. But he's more than just a supplier. Hassan's been involved in orchestrating attacks across the region, trying to destabilize governments and spread chaos."
Soap frowned, his eyes narrowing. "He's the one who organized the attack on the embassy in Urzikstan, right? Slippery bastard."
"That's right," Price confirmed, his voice firm. "Hassan's been on our radar for years, but every time we get close, he disappears. This time, though, we've got a lead. Intelligence suggests he's holed up in a compound on the outskirts of Las Almas, Mexico. It's a stronghold for the Las Almas Cartel, and we believe they're helping him move weapons and personnel under the radar."
The mention of the Las Almas Cartel caught my attention. I'd heard rumors of their involvement with international terror networks before, but seeing it confirmed was something else entirely. The Cartel's power and reach were significant, and if they were aligned with Al-Qatala, this mission had just become even more complicated.
"Zara," Price turned to me, his gaze piercing, "this is where you come in. The compound is heavily fortified, but it's also isolated. We need someone who can get inside without being seen, gather intel, and locate Hassan before we move in. Your reputation precedes you—stealth, infiltration, close-quarters combat. That's why you're here."
I nodded, the weight of the assignment settling over me. "Understood, Captain. I'll find him."
Price's expression remained stern. "Good. This isn't just another operation. We need to be precise, calculated. Hassan knows we're after him, and if he slips through our fingers again, we may not get another chance."
Ghost, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice low and steady. "We've been tracking Hassan for a long time. If he's in that compound, he won't be leaving it alive."
The room grew even tenser as Ghost's words hung in the air. There was no room for error. Hassan had to be taken out, and it was clear that the team was ready to do whatever it took to make that happen.
Price nodded in agreement. "Soap, Gaz—you'll lead the assault team. Once Wraith has eyes on Hassan, you move in. Ghost, you're on overwatch. We'll need to be coordinated, and there's no room for mistakes."
"Roger that," Soap replied, his tone all business.
The mission briefing continued, with Price outlining the details of the compound's layout, security measures, and possible escape routes for Hassan. The plan was clear: I would infiltrate the compound under the cover of night, find Hassan, and mark his location for the assault team. Once they had confirmation, the team would strike, taking out Hassan and any high-value targets with him.
As the briefing concluded, Price looked around the room, his expression serious. "Any questions?"
No one spoke. We all knew what needed to be done.
"Good," Price said, standing up. "We move out at 0400. Get your gear ready and be prepared for anything. Dismissed."
The team dispersed, each of us heading off to prepare for the mission ahead. As I walked out of the briefing room, my thoughts were solely focused on the task at hand. There was no room for distractions. This mission was critical, and failure wasn't an option.
I headed to the armory to check my gear, running through the plan in my mind. Infiltrating a cartel stronghold was no small task, but this was what I had trained for. Every mission, every operation had led me to this point. I would get in, find Hassan, and make sure he didn't escape.
As I secured my weapons and checked my equipment, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, the sharp focus that came with knowing what was at stake. Hassan Zyani might be one of the most dangerous men I've ever faced, but he was also just another obstacle in the path to completing the mission.
No one in the team knew about my past, about the burning need for closure that drove me. And that was how it needed to stay. This mission wasn't about my parents, or the secrets that had been buried with them. It was about stopping a threat that could plunge the world into chaos. That was all that mattered.
By the time I finished prepping my gear, I was ready. The clock was ticking down to 0400, and the team was gathering at the exfil point. We were about to embark on one of the most dangerous operations any of us had ever faced, and there was no room for doubt.
As I joined the others, the air was thick with anticipation. Captain Price gave us all a final look, a silent confirmation that we were ready.
"Let's move," he ordered.
And with that, we headed out into the night, ready to face whatever awaited us in Las Almas.