"Infiltration was only the beginning — survival demanded a heavier price."
Adlof pulled a map from his pocket.
His eyes were sharp, his aura heavy.
> "To move forward," he said, "we must retrieve our friend, who's currently imprisoned inside the compound."
Plain and simple:
They would infiltrate the massive compound and rescue the captive.
As Adlof laid out the plan, Sanan interrupted, anxiety flashing in his eyes:
> "Where did you even get the layout of the compound?"
Adlof replied, calm and unfazed:
> "I bribed one of the guards. Some cigarettes were enough."
Without wasting time, Adlof explained the plan in full detail.
The team set out into the forest.
(Quick note: The compound was octagon-shaped, with three guarded entrances.)
By late afternoon, they reached a river that served as the sewage outflow for the facility.
Entering through a large drainage pipe, they navigated carefully to their destination.
Adlof ordered Noureddine to break through a weak point in the wall using a massive hammer.
After hard labor, they managed to create a hole about two meters tall and eighty centimeters wide.
Noureddine dug down four meters deep, and faint light began to seep through the cracks.
Finally, they broke through into an old storage room inside the compound.
From there, they moved cautiously toward the highest point of the complex—a zone with minimal security.
They crept silently, sticking to the shadows, until they reached the secondary prison wing.
Using a rope, they descended quietly down to the prison yard—it was lunchtime, the perfect cover.
Moving like ghosts, they located their target.
Adlof called out softly:
> "Sam... Sam..."
The captive turned, a broad smile lighting up his face.
He rushed over to join them.
> "We've come to get you out," Adlof whispered.
They quickly prepared to ascend the rope when suddenly—the piercing sound of alarms filled the air.
One of the prisoners had been spotted escaping.
Without hesitation, Adlof and the team sprinted toward the air conditioning ducts, their exit plan.
Adlof, running ahead, stumbled upon a child begging for help.
The boy clung to him, pleading to be taken along.
Adlof's instincts screamed danger.
The child could easily be a spy, a trap.
Cold and calculating, Adlof drew his pistol.
Without hesitation, he ended the boy's life, tossing the body toward the forest to avoid alerting the others.
He pressed forward and entered the air conditioning room, hiding in the shadows.
After about fifteen minutes, the rest of the team slipped inside, panting and tense.
They squeezed back through the sewage pipe they had entered through, bursting out into the open.
One last leap—and they piled into their old pickup truck, speeding away,
racing back toward the safety of their hidden refuge.
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