A Shadow Company Tale Sequel

Back on the Map

"Today has been quite the ordeal, gentlemen," Price remarked, his arms folded, as the team congregated in their designated control center. "Arrow and his team took a beating, losing three soldiers in the process, not KIA but grounded. Nevertheless, the raid yielded valuable intelligence." He acknowledged Arrow with a nod, despite the latter's visible displeasure. Thankfully, there had been no fatalities—yet. "Fortunately, the information we've acquired now gives us a clear direction."

"We can't remain holed up here indefinitely. While Georgia has its charm, the mercenary presence is dwindling week by week. Arrow's team struck when the enemy base was nearly deserted," Soap mused, his fingers scratching his chin.

"The mercenary leader will provide us the answers," Arrow stated flatly, his gaze fixated on the map before him. "I can extract the necessary information from her once more." Those who had known Arrow prior to his time with the company involuntarily flinched, a reaction mirrored by Frost, who shuddered inwardly.

Price shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I've received intel that her family is en route to finalize a treaty."

"Does this mean the war is ending?" Frost looked to Price, who affirmed with a nod.

"However, ours isn't ending. Arrow, how long until you can decipher that information?" Price crossed his arms, his eyes on the silent soldier.

"Two hours at most. Rattle is already on the task. He mentioned substantial shipments bound for Africa."

"In that case, that's where we'll—" Price's sentence was abruptly halted by the ringing of his phone. He silenced his incomplete thought and answered the call, listening attentively. "She's in our care," he announced, turning to face the map on the board behind the group. "Is the situation that dire? Understood. I'll arrange for her return. Arrow will stay by my side. Best of luck." Ending the call on the satellite phone, he directed his attention to Frost.

"Prepare your belongings. Your unit requires your presence. As for the rest of us, it's time to relocate. Makarov seems to have made his next move."

"If he's making himself known, it's intentional," Katana remarked, her gaze on Price.

"So, where do we begin the hunt?" Snow drummed his fingers impatiently on the table.

"Makarov has been using a local paramilitary group to transport shipments through Sierra Leone. From there, they make their way to Morocco and eventually Spain," Yuri explained, marking key locations on the map. His finger indicated a trajectory leading to London, UK—Makarov's likely target.

"He's moving northward..." Angel muttered in disbelief.

"Right to the doorstep of her majesty. Any idea about the cargo?" Price's eyes narrowed.

Rattle entered the room, holding a manifest that highlighted Makarov's cargo. "I'm not entirely sure... but it holds significance for him." He handed the list to Price.

"Then it's what we need."

Soap pointed at an airport in Sherbro, Sierra Leone, and traced a river that ventured inland. Images of a factory within a camp revealed where Makarov's cargo was stored. "We can use the river to approach discreetly. There's a factory in the camp where they stash the shipments."

"The situation there is dire," Roach commented, shaking his head.

"If Makarov is invested, it's more than just transportation. And it's very likely the man himself will oversee the operation. If he's surfaced, then we follow suit." Price exhaled, nodding to his team. "We depart in an hour."

As the camp bustled with preparations for departure, a moment of solitude found Arrow and Frost standing together. Despite the impending separation, an unspoken tension lingered in the air—a mixture of their shared history, their dedication to the mission, and the intimacy they had developed in the midst of chaos.