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home is on the brink of civil war, and the people who should be protecting them are now attacking them.

“Well, as of this moment… I’m giving you the order to go get their backs! The U.N. has postponed its witch hunt, and President Schultz himself has given us permission to do what only we can. Today, you stand on the front line as the only thing stopping a country from tearing itself apart. You represent the United Nations, the United States, and your fellow man. You’re not soldiers. You are men and women who are paid to protect the people of this world… paid to help them. It’s time to go to work.”

He switched off his comms and looked over at Montez. He stood staring at him, holding two phones down by his side, his mouth hanging open.

“You okay?” asked Jericho.

Montez nodded vacantly. “I… that was…” He hung up both calls and stepped out from behind the desk. “Mr. Stone, I want to help.”

Jericho eyed him up and down, wrestling against his first impression of the man before him. Finally, he offered a grateful smile. “The best thing you can do right now, Mr. Montez, is find somewhere safe and stay there.”

He headed for the door, but Montez followed.

“Mr. Stone, I…” He hesitated. “What you said to your people… this is my country too. I want to help.”

Jericho’s expression softened. He turned and placed a hand on Montez’s shoulder. “And you will. When all this is over, someone is going to have to organize your government. Organize a new election. Advise the new president. I can’t think of anyone more qualified than you, but you can’t do any of that if the general shoots you. Gather everything you need, then get somewhere safe.”

Montez stood tall, his chest swelling with pride. “Yes, sir.”

Jericho left the room and ran toward the entrance, checking his watch.

Two minutes left.

He stepped out into the courtyard. It was late in the afternoon. The sun’s color had shifted to a deeper orange. It was still claustrophobically hot, but there was more shade and a stronger breeze than earlier.

He looked up at the sky. Because the palace was on a slight hill, it offered a panoramic view of the horizon and the sprawling city at its base. Under any other circumstances, it would have been one hell of a sight.

Ramirez turned as Jericho stopped beside him. A handful of men stood close by, their hands wrapped tightly around their weapons and their eyes fixed on the gates. Beyond those gates, men they had once considered brothers prepared to attack them.

“Apparently, the general has been giving orders to his men for the last ten minutes,” said Ramirez. “I think his deadline was a formality.”

“We’ll see,” replied Jericho.

“Tell me honestly, Mr. Stone. Your men… the GlobaTech operatives… how good are they? Really.”

Jericho turned and fixed him with a cold, calm stare. “We’re the best, Colonel. You have my word.”

Just then, the loud, high-pitched whine of the general’s megaphone turning on filled the air. Jericho and the colonel winced and turned their attention to him, staring intently through the gates.

“Colonel Ramirez,” bellowed the general. “Your time is up. I am ordering you and your men to stand down immediately and open these gates, or I will take this palace by force.”

Ramirez looked at Jericho again. His hand moved to his own sidearm, currently holstered to his hip. “Well, I guess we’re about to find out.”

Outside the gates, the general’s men began to move into position. Units spread across the hillside road, with two groups approaching either side of the gates. The choppers had disappeared, but the other vehicles remained, still parked haphazardly behind the general’s tank.

Jericho saw some of the colonel’s men start to twitch, restlessly shifting their weight between their legs and exchanging anxious glances.

He pressed the comms device beneath his T-shirt. “Squad leaders, check in. What’s your situation?”

He was met with silence.

Ramirez looked at him upon hearing his taut, impatient sigh. “Mr. Stone?”

Jericho ignored him and tried the comms again. “This is Jericho. Someone give me a sitrep.”

After a moment of continued silence, a crackle of static sounded in his ear. “Sir, we’ve apprehended Palugan forces along the west coast. Roughly fifty men. They were rounding up civilians at gunpoint and attempting to lead them away from their homes. We didn’t stop to ask where they were going.”

“Outstanding work,” replied Jericho. “Where are you now?”

“Sir, my team are currently traveling north through Santuário pela Costa. There’s a roadblock up ahead, but we’re heading to you.”

“How many men do you have?”

“Eleven, sir. One got hit, but it’s a flesh wound. He’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I want you to stay where you are, understand? Santuário pela Costa is the only other major city in the country. If we can secure it along with Maville, the smaller towns and villages will fall in line. Any military friendlies?”

“Not seen any yet, sir.”

“Okay. Secure the roadblock, establish a perimeter, and coordinate with local teams. I want anyone within five miles of your location to rendezvous with you ASAP. Keep your teams no smaller than ten. More if possible. Sweep the city street by street if you have to. You see any of the general’s men, you warn them once, then shoot them if they resist. Am I clear?”

“Crystal, sir. Good luck.”

“You too.”

As the conversation ended, more reports came flooding in, overwhelming his comms. Across most of the larger, populated areas, GlobaTech operatives reported that they had easily taken down patrols of Palugan soldiers who were seen using excessive force on their own citizens.

Jericho let out a small sigh of relief and turned to Ramirez. “We’ve already stopped the general’s men from attacking the locals in multiple regions. We’re focusing on the major areas. The smaller, outlying ones will take care of themselves for now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stone. If my men are nearby, they will know to help you.”

“Thanks, Colonel.”

He looked back toward the gate and locked eyes with the general despite the distance. “Let’s hope

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