The Al-Qaim mountains loomed under a heavy blanket of stars, their jagged peaks silhouetted against the night sky. The cold air bit at Marcus’s face as he crouched behind a ridge, studying the camp below. Through his binoculars, he could see a sprawling compound tucked into the rocky terrain, illuminated by floodlights. Guards moved along the perimeter, their rifles glinting in the light.

The camp was a fortress, far more fortified than the depots and safe houses Marcus had dismantled. It wasn’t just a hub for operations—it was the heart of Al-Ra’ib’s network. This was where the real power lay, and Marcus knew it wouldn’t go down easily.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder holster, feeling the weight of his gear. His injured arm ached, a constant reminder of the fights that had brought him here, but he pushed the pain aside. The mission was all that mattered now.

Through the binoculars, Marcus saw movement near the central building. A group of men emerged, their presence radiating authority. One of them, taller and more commanding than the rest, caught his attention. His sharp features and deliberate movements matched the descriptions Marcus had pieced together.

Al-Ra’ib.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Marcus’s jaw tightened as he watched the man issue orders to the guards.

It was time to move.

Marcus crept through the rocky terrain, using the shadows to his advantage. He approached the western perimeter, where two guards patrolled in silence. They were methodical, disciplined, but not alert enough for someone like him.

The first guard turned, his eyes scanning the darkness. Marcus struck before he could react, his knife slicing across the man’s throat in a single fluid motion. He lowered the body into the shadows, already moving toward the second guard.

The man heard something and turned, his rifle rising, but Marcus fired a single silenced shot. The guard fell without a sound.

The camp loomed closer as Marcus slipped through the gap in the perimeter. He moved from cover to cover, his eyes scanning for threats. The guards were on edge, but they didn’t yet know he was inside.

He reached the first building, a makeshift barracks. Inside, he found maps and notes strewn across a table, detailing supply routes and operational plans. It confirmed what he already knew: this was the epicenter of Al-Ra’ib’s network. But there was no mention of the man himself.

Marcus pocketed the maps and moved on. The compound was waking up now. Voices echoed through the night, and the guards grew more active. He needed to find Al-Ra’ib before they fully mobilized.

He slipped into the central building, his Glock raised. The hallways were dimly lit, and the sound of footsteps echoed faintly. Marcus moved carefully, his instincts on high alert.

Then he saw it—a thin line stretching across the floor, connected to a small device embedded in the wall.

Tripwire.