The news almost simultaneously reached the "Musician" Defense Command in Libya.
Thick curtains blocked the Mediterranean's sunlight and noise, with only the eerie blue glow of communication equipment inside the room.
Henry stood in front of the enormous tactical map, his brow furrowed, finger heavily tapping on the spot representing Jebut Port, "Mr. Song, Terry's been thrown out as a scapegoat. Although it temporarily suppressed the volcanic media, Vincent and those at the White House won't give up! They're just lying low in Jebut! With the CIA's control over the media, it won't take five days, at most a week, for the news about the 'Marlin Fish' to be drowned by new headlines! By then, that damned ship will set sail immediately, speeding towards Benghazi! If that batch of weapons gets into Sayif's hands..."
"By that time..."
