General Haftar was like he had been struck by petrification, holding Jafali's corpse as if he were a wooden statue, not moving, just like seeing Medusa's eyes and turning to stone.
"General, we've been ambushed, ambushed by our own people!"
"Chief of Staff Jafali led the team to bombard our base, seeking permission, seeking permission, what exactly is going on?!"
"General, the defenses on the west and north of the city have been breached; we've suffered heavy losses, what should we do?!"
Calls kept coming in through the radio; the forces within the city still loyal to Haftar were in a dire situation. They were caught in crossfire with the rebels, unable to distinguish friend from foe, completely unaware of what was happening.
Haftar showed no response, as if his soul had left his body.
Jafali was the person he trusted the most.
And yet, the one guiding the British Special Forces into the city to attack him was Jafali...
