Ms. M's face was as pale as a sheet.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
The Hebrews were just that insidious and self-serving.
In their eyes, the interests of their own people were more important than anything.
Allies?
They were chips that could be traded.
At this point, it seemed that the only hope lay with the air strike unit.
...
Northern Darfur, inside the command room of the Musician Defense base.
The air was as heavy as lead.
The heavy breathing of the White Bear came through the encrypted radio, with the background of whistling wind: "Boss, we didn't see anyone at the 'Hyena' pass! The Mossad's 'Alpha' team didn't show up at all! They've disappeared! We sent out small drones to survey a ten-kilometer radius, but we can't find the Hebrew infiltration unit!"
