The great table was covered in silver trays and earthen bowls, the rich scent of Algerian couscous filling the air. Lacolone sat at the head, pouring mint tea into small glasses, the steam curling like desert wind. Maya laughed as she took a bite, her eyes widening with delight. Jessica laid out desserts—maqrout and zalabia—while Valgor grinned, already holding one between his fingers.
"Even leaders," Lacolone said with a smile, "need a taste of life before facing darkness."
A knock echoed through the hall. Walid entered, surprised to see the table set for celebration.
"Come in," Lacolone said, gesturing. "This is from my homeland—Algeria."
Walid hesitated, then sat and took a cautious bite of couscous. His expression shifted instantly—shock, then awe.
"The first taste," the narration would have said, "carried him to another world."
He reached for a piece of zalabia next, its honey glaze catching the light.
"This," Lacolone said, watching him, "is not just food. It's heritage."
Maya and Valgor laughed at Walid's wide-eyed wonder, and Jessica pushed a plate toward him with a teasing smirk. "Try the maqrout before he eats it all."
Walid nodded slowly. "Even simple things… hold power."
Some flavors, he realized, carried memory—and strength.
When the meal was done, they rose together and walked down the long corridor of the headquarters. The air felt heavier, the distant hum of machinery echoing through the steel walls. Walid watched Lacolone with quiet respect; there was something unspoken in his posture—a leader ready for something far beyond glory. Maya pointed forward silently, and Valgor's hand rested on his sword. The feast was over. The journey had begun.
Inside the dim briefing chamber, blue holographic light flickered across the room. Walid placed a digital map on the table. It displayed a section of Washington, D.C., latticed with hidden routes and blinking red markers.
"Our next mission," he said slowly, "is the most dangerous yet. We're entering the Deep State."
Maya and Lacolone leaned in. Jessica's gaze sharpened. The air shifted from warmth to steel. Failure here would erase everything they had built.
On the screen, file names appeared: 9/11 Classified Files. Epstein Network. Malcolm X Archives.
Maya's breath caught.
"The head of the snake is here," Lacolone murmured. "We expose it, or die trying."
Walid nodded grimly. "If the 33-degree Saints discover us, all is lost."
Secrets were power—and power could kill.
Assignments followed. Walid gestured to the holographic schematics of a sprawling underground complex.
"Patience is key. Move quietly. Leave no trace," he said. "Lacolone leads. Maya, you're with him. Valgor—remote coverage. Jessica—defensive overwatch."
He handed Lacolone a small hard drive. "Plant this. The Washington hacking cell will handle the rest."
One mistake, one sound, one misstep—and the mission would collapse.
Walid leaned close, voice low. "No flying. No energy surges. This is infiltration, not battle."
Lacolone nodded. Maya secured her tools with steady hands.
"The coordinates are marked in red," Walid said. "Their secrets are their shields—and their weakness."
Silence filled the room. Lacolone's fists tightened; Maya's expression hardened. "Everything depends on precision," he said.
"I won't fail," she whispered.
"The world will never know what we did," Walid added, "but it will feel the results."
Valgor watched the monitors, ready to guide them. Jessica ran final checks.
The air trembled with stillness—the calm before a world-breaking storm.
Lacolone and Maya stepped out, their gear gleaming under faint blue lights. Walid's eyes followed them, heavy with responsibility. "One mistake," Jessica called after them, "and it's over."
Maya gripped her device tighter, exhaling once. The shadows awaited.
They reviewed the digital map one last time. "No improvisation," Walid said through the earpiece.
Valgor's voice followed: "Satellite feeds active."
Jessica nodded. "Defensive systems ready."
Preparation had become its own kind of war.
Lacolone cracked a rare grin. "Even espionage," he said, "has a taste for heritage."
Maya smiled faintly. "Only you would mix food and danger."
Walid smirked. Jessica sighed, amused. "Focus now," she said. "Enjoy the calm while it lasts."
Minutes later, the team moved down a narrow metallic hall, boots silent against the floor. Walid's voice guided them through earpieces, his tone precise.
"We're ready," Lacolone whispered. "The world's darkest secrets await."
Valgor adjusted his remote sensors. Every breath became a countdown.
They reached a corridor of pure silence. Cameras rotated lazily above. "Patience," Walid murmured. "One wrong move and it's over."
A flicker of holographic light revealed the security grid ahead. Lacolone nodded once. "We move on my mark."
Silence was their weapon now.
They crouched behind a wall, observing guards moving in predictable rhythms. Maya's hands hovered over her hacking tool, sweat glimmering on her temples.
"Wait," Walid whispered. "Now—go."
They slipped through the gap like shadows, moving as if time itself paused for them.
The mission didn't begin with action—it began with control of every heartbeat.
Step by step, they advanced. Maya disabled sensors mid-breath; Lacolone watched the shifting light for traps. Shadows twisted across the walls like living things. Even light could betray them now. Even sound could kill.
At last, they reached the access door. Lacolone signaled, and Maya prepared the drive. Her fingers moved with surgical precision as she slotted it into the encrypted port.
"Drive planted," Walid confirmed. "Washington team will handle the extraction."
Lacolone took one deep breath, steadying the fire inside him.
The head of the snake was blind—for now.
Beyond the last doorway, red security lights pulsed faintly. The archive chamber lay ahead, filled with the secrets of an empire. Drones floated quietly above.
"One wrong step…" Maya whispered.
Lacolone's reply was calm, measured. "We move as one. Patience is our weapon."
And then, the world seemed to hold its breath.
The mission had begun.
The secrets of power were about to be unveiled.