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Miguel sat across from Sharlan at a table in the barracks.
“It’s been a while,” he greeted stiffly.
“Yes, sir,” Sharlan replied.
A hard silence hung in the air. Soon, one of the soldiers brought over two cups of coffee.
Miguel lifted one of them to his mouth.
“Not bad,” he remarked.
“You didn’t come here for coffee. What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a mission for you.”
“A mission so important that you had to come and deliver it in person.”
Miguel took out a cigarette and lit it up.
“An operation for three special forces units, including the 11th, to take out Rebel Commander Absala in Mangala.”
Miguel took a sip of coffee and then brought his cigarette to his mouth.
“Given the number of rebels, won’t it be difficult to determine where Absala is?”
“It’s a difficult order for me to understand too, but there’s always a reason why we can’t find him, isn’t there?”
Sharlan nodded.
“If necessary, I’ll see the Asian commander myself,” Miguel suggested.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it, sir.”
“If he refuses…”
“He is the commander of a special forces team. He has refused operations in the past, but he has never turned down a legitimate...
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