8 AM, Baghdad.
Sunlight poured over the beige exterior walls of the Ministry of Defense Building like molten lead.
Rashim stood at the window, holding the freshly delivered encrypted intelligence, his brow knitted into a dead knot.
The window-mounted air conditioner emitted an unbearable roar, blowing dry cold air into the office, yet failing to dispel the cloud over his brow.
"Are you sure?" He didn't turn his head, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the air conditioner's noise: "Only three hundred or so armed escorts per convoy?"
Intelligence officer Colonel Ahmed stood three meters away.
The colonel's uniform was crisply ironed, but sweat had already seeped out from the back of his neck.
"Confirmed, Minister." Ahmed said, "Our observation post near Anai Town visually confirmed it."
Rashim did not immediately respond.
He still faced away from the room, his gaze cast upon the Tigris River shaded by green trees outside the window.
