Ultimate Firepower
Chapter 203 - 191 Write More Elegantly

Chapter 203: Chapter 191 Write More Elegantly

Middle East Strategic Research Room.

Although it bore the label of strategy, the office was small.

CIA did not have openly labeled offices around the world; to explicitly label one would be a joke, as the United States would never acknowledge CIA activities in any country.

Thus, this so-called Middle East Strategic Research Room was indeed a CIA station in the Middle East.

As a civilian intelligence officer, Arandy was in excellent shape, muscles that could not be hidden by a white shirt, neat teeth, dressed appropriately, looking like a successful professional, not only easily winning the hearts of the opposite sex but also the envy of the same sex.

No matter the situation, Arandy always maintained a calm and stern demeanor.

Even when the CIA suffered a rare humiliation, and the White House together with the Pentagon sent a so-called investigation team that even tried to search his office, Arandy showed no anger.

What cannot be obtained on the battlefield, should not be expected at the negotiation table.

Likewise, what the Pentagon could not snatch away, how could it possibly be removed from a CIA prison.

What about Shaman, since Shaman refused to give face to the CIA and even audaciously tried to forcefully take back Abdulla.

The CIA had even given Shaman the chance to kneel and pay, but Shaman refused, how could this be?

Therefore, Arandy taught Shaman a small lesson.

With a very simple strategy, in an extremely simple manner, he just put Abdulla into the trunk of a car, placed in the trunk of a car driven daily by an Iraqi translator, and then delivered him to the hands of Shaman’s opponent.

It was that simple, too simple to even be called a strategy.

But Arandy truly did not expect Shaman to daringly launch an attack on his people.

Sending out a team of over twenty people, confusing Shaman’s vision was secondary, the main purpose was to stimulate Shaman, make him irritable, make him angry, make him unable to resist launching an attack, make him unable to resist snatching people.

Even if Shaman found the Pentagon, even if he sought help from the White House, let them search, let their investigation team comb through the entire embassy, what could it possibly change?

But Shaman used artillery and even killed CIA personnel, this situation had become severe and escalated.

Because just passing through and briefly staying was Naaoi in Baghdad.

Naaoi had never tolerated such treatment, and crucially, among the six people killed was Naaoi’s former subordinate, now the captain of the Middle East station’s action team.

It was puzzling how Shaman dared to do this; even if Shaman dared, how could the Defense Clandestine Service dare to cooperate with him.

Naaoi’s rank was not as high as Arandy’s because the Middle East station was a major station, and Naaoi was just the captain of an action team.

But although Naaoi’s rank was not particularly high, his seniority and prestige were immense.

When Naaoi, fueled by anger, volunteered, Arandy truly found it difficult to refuse.

Of course, Arandy did not want to refuse either.

The result was a loss of control.

Everything went out of control.

Naaoi died.

Naaoi, who had executed countless major missions, led countless important personalities, that reckless yet calm, rough yet meticulous, proud yet humble Naaoi, that embodiment of contradictions, who would forever be a captain as long as he refused to retire, had died.

When Arandy first received the news, he couldn’t believe it.

Mainly because the source of information was too unreliable.

As everyone knew, the National Intelligence Bureau of Saudi, they simply couldn’t access valuable intelligence; they were best at buying, not selling.

But when the National Intelligence Bureau sent five people one after another with the same intelligence, all within a short period of time, all assertively and confidently bringing the same information, Arandy couldn’t sit still.

So Arandy sent Naaoi’s direct subordinates to confirm this news.

If Naaoi hadn’t died, then these people were there to protect Naaoi.

If Naaoi truly had died, then these people were there to avenge Naaoi.

Then the situation imploded, exploded.

Naaoi died, the entire Special Action Team led by Naaoi was wiped out.

When the call for aid came, Arandy truly didn’t know whom he could send.

The Special Action Team was already the CIA’s strongest force; if they were unable, who else could he send?

Send the military?

As everyone knows, the CIA could only obtain cooperation and assistance from the military; they had no authority whatsoever to mobilize the military.

Unable to send the military, he could only pressure the Iraqi side to quickly deploy the garrison troops from the Green Zone for support.

But it was all too late, everything was over.

How could it have turned out this way?

How could it have become like this?

Where exactly had the error occurred, where exactly was the problem!

Arandy’s hands uncontrollably began to tremble, his heart also trembled with them, a chain reaction that made his voice tremble as well.

"You... you... you... are you sure..."

No one would have thought, the suave Arandy under extreme tension could also stutter.

"Sir, I’m sorry, we found Captain Naaoi’s body on site, his cause of death was blunt force trauma to the face..."

"You... you... you... are you really... sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure... People from the National Intelligence Bureau tried to set a fire, but they didn’t manage it in time. Captain Naaoi’s body is being transported here. He was hit three times by blunt objects—his hands, pelvis, and face. The heavy blow to his face was the main cause of death."

"I... I... I didn’t ask you... about the cause of death!"

Swallowing his saliva, Arandy stammered, "I... you... get out!"

His subordinate quietly withdrew and closed the door of the Middle East Strategic Research Room.

Arandy, who had just been disdainful of dealing with the investigative team, now collapsed into his chair.

His mind was in chaos, as if it had been hammered.

Why was his mind so chaotic, so chaotic that his head ached?

Arandy covered his forehead with his hand and, after staring blankly for at least two minutes, finally grabbed the phone, his trembling fingers dialing a number.

"Sir, I have to report to you some unfortunate news. Captain Naaoi is dead!"

When he uttered the word dead, it seemed Arandy finally dropped a heavy burden. He had to utter this word decidedly, to the extent that he did not care whether it was inappropriate to directly say dead.

The slightest hesitation, choosing a more euphemistic term, and Arandy feared he wouldn’t dare say the word at all.

"What? Who? Naaoi? Dead? Who is dead? Organize your language, what are you babbling about?"

"Sir, Captain Naaoi is dead. He has just died in a conflict with the National Intelligence Bureau."

"Uh, are you sure?"

"I’m sorry, sir, but I fear I can be sure."

"Have you seen the body?"

"Not yet, but it’s about to be delivered."

Silence, a deadly silence.

Naaoi was dead, but it wasn’t just Naaoi who had died, he was the highest-ranking official to die an abnormal death in over sixty years at the CIA.

An ’abnormal death’ was certainly a euphemism; more directly, he had died in battle.

Lan Adi’s hand holding the phone started to tremble uncontrollably, because the longer the silence from the director, the bleaker his future seemed.

Although the director still did not know why Naaoi had died, he would soon find out, and Arandy dare not conceal the truth about this matter.

Finally, the director said softly, "No matter how he died, it was an accident. I don’t care how many bullets he took; Captain Naaoi died by accident... from a stroke! He had a bad temper and was getting old, a stroke is normal."

With a loud bang, the director abruptly moved the phone away from his ear.

Arandy couldn’t hold onto the phone any longer; the receiver fell onto the desk.

Frantically retrieving the receiver, Arandy struggled to say, "I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid that won’t work..."

"What won’t work?"

"Captain Naaoi died from a blunt instrument to the face, which means he... he... he..."

Arandy started stammering again.

"The director in surprise said, "His face was smashed?"

"I’m afraid... yes!"

With a loud bang, it was now Arandy who abruptly moved the receiver away from his ear.

The director slammed the encrypted phone; he was furious.

Quickly picking up the phone again, he yelled, "What’s going on! What the hell is going on! Damn it, tell me what exactly is happening!"

As everyone knows, the CIA’s director is a mascot, a bridge for the White House to control the CIA, but whether this director could really manage depended on whether his deputy directors were cooperative.

The various deputy directors of the CIA were the real technical bureaucrats, the ones who got things done.

It was not easy for the director to persuade Naaoi to serve the country, willing to leave frontline work and be promoted to deputy director.

Rarely did someone sacrifice for the greater good of the United States, willing to break away from, even betray, the interest group that is the CIA, but now, he was dead.

A representative figure, someone who could leverage the unyielding CIA, was dead, his face smashed.

Arandy didn’t know what to say anymore; he had become the "damn bastard," and there was no way he could keep his position as the director for the Middle East.

Damn it, Arandy just wanted to say that he hadn’t sent Naaoi to do anything.

But he still had to answer what was asked.

Arandy could only say tremblingly, "It was done by some people at the National Intelligence Bureau controlled by Shaman. Oh, very likely, an assassination organization called Sky Garden participated, no! Sky Garden was involved in the... conspiracy... to kill... Captain Naaoi."

"Mind your language! What do you mean by ’killed’? Naaoi died by accident! Died in a car accident!"

After shouting, the director grit his teeth and said, "Bullshit assassination organization; what threat could an assassination organization pose to our Captain Naaoi? Damn it! Watch your language!"

"Director, if it’s not the assassination organization, then it must be the National Intelligence Bureau. If it is the National Intelligence Bureau, could that be... more problematic?"

The director took a deep breath, then weakly said, "Naaoi was coming back to receive the Cross for Outstanding Intelligence Work. How could he die at the hands of some damned assassination organization called Sky Garden? No, even if he died at the hands of a damned assassination organization, he cannot die at the hands of the damn Intelligence Bureau. He must have died in an accident!"

"Yes, director, I know how to write the report now."

The director sighed deeply and weakly said, "But we can’t just let it go like this. Shaman... the National Intelligence Bureau, I will take care of them. But that Sky Garden, eliminate them! Don’t let them survive; make that name disappear, make everyone disappear, disappear!"

Not able to help himself, Arandy straightened his back and loudly said, "Yes, make Sky Garden disappear! I’ll get started on this matter right away!"

After a moment of silence, the director said, "Now, write the report, make it reasonable, and most importantly, make it look good!"