Morning broke without birdsong; the hum of the generators was the only noise within the compound. Laila was on the balcony of the safe house, watching the purple of the sky recede to pale gold. The city below stirred slowly, unaware of the war rising in the creases of its stillness. Behind her, Kemi slid in silently, carrying a tablet. "We got a reply." Laila faced her. "From whom?" "Kaima finally broke the trail Obasi made in the encrypted ledger; it wasn't just money. He's moving something, or someone." Laila took the tablet. A name pulsed on the screen in capitals: *Operation Echelon*. Cassian was in the doorway, shirt wet from his predawn jog. "What is it?" "They're staging a relocation; not just people, but documents. tangible evidence." He came closer, eyes narrowing. "Where?" "Yola. Well, at least this one, an unused military storage on the city edge; it was closed years ago, but Kaima says there's more power use going on there. Grid spikes." Cassian paced. "That's a trap." "Maybe," Laila said, "or maybe it's our only chance to intercept." Kemi looked up from her corner. "If we're going in, we'll need Tobi." Cassian nodded. "Call him back from Kano. We'll need his firewall bypass." Hours had gone by, and the war room hummed. Laptops open, maps up, voices cresting and ebbing like waves. Laila's authority was no longer questioned, not since the leak about the orphanage fund appropriations. Not since Mira's journal was more than legacy; it was teaching. Kaima stayed by the board. "We have a blind spot: the northwest entrance. Coverage is bad there. If they're defending it, they're not marketing it." Cassian slammed his hand on the table. "Then that's where we break in." Tobi flipped a drive onto the table. "New scramblers. This'll be blind camera feeds for fifteen minutes. After that, we're vulnerable." "Fifteen minutes is sufficient," said Laila. Her tone was silky smooth, but her eyes were burning with inner fire. "We just need one thing. Anything that links Obasi directly to the trading of children and the muzzling of whistleblowers." "And you?" Kaima asked. "You'll go in?" Laila looked at them; at this strange, piecemeal group she hadn't chosen, but had come to trust. "Yes. This time, I go in." Night had fallen, leaving the team in darkness as they crept closer to the facility. It was a phantom rising from the scrub, surrounded by rusted fences and broken watch towers. The air was heavy with heat and silence. Cassian and Laila crept towards the entry point, low to the ground. Tobi sat back, fingers playing over the keyboard as his eyes were fixed on the flickering green lights of his custom jammer. "Now," he whispered. The gate hissed open. They sneaked in. Inside the facility, the air was perfumed with the smell of old metal and paper. Laila led them down the central corridor, where fluorescent lights fluttered cautiously. They turned a corner and stopped. There were two guards at the end of the hall. Cassian's hand flew up in a signal of quiet. The group melted into the darkness, holding its breath. But the guards moved on, unaware, chuckling. "Let's keep going," Laila whispered. They found the records room behind a steel door locked tight. Tobi got to work, inserting the bypass chip into the panel. Sparks twinkled. Then, a hiss. The door creaked open. There were shelves upon shelves, each stacked with files, boxes, tapes; decades of secrets dusty. Laila headed straight for the labeled boxes reading "Echo Division"; her mother's name had appeared in a memo related to that file. Cassian joined her, flipping open folders. "This is it," he said, holding up a logbook. "Transfers. Names. Signatures." And then came a sound. Boots. Several. Coming fast. "Wrap it up!" Tobi hissed. "We've got company." Kemi and Kaima moved to the exit, weapons drawn; not to shoot, but to delay. Laila clutched the files to her chest, her pulse pounding. Cassian grabbed her arm. "Go." They ran down the hall, lungs burning. Shouts echoed behind them; guards were on high alert now. But the jammer kept operating. For another minute. They reached the outer gate when Tobi snapped the lock. The van was parked ahead, engine roaring. They clambered aboard. "Go!" Cassian commanded. As they vanished into the darkness, the weight of most of the files in Laila's lap felt more precious than gold. Back at the safe house, they spread the evidence on the long table. Photos. Testimonies. Legal documents linking Obasi's shell companies to dozens of illegal detainments. "This," Kaima whispered, "is the final nail." Laila sat in silence, her eyes scanning a folder marked *Project Mira*. It contained photos of her mother's undercover activities. Surveillance logs. Transcripts. They had been watching her long before she vanished. "You knew," she whispered. "And you let it happen." Cassian fell to his knees beside her. "But now we end it." She nodded, slowly. "No more silence." The next morning, they sent the documents via a secure satellite link. Reporters received copies. International organizations were alerted. And hours later, the world responded. Hashtags trended. News agencies broke stories. The government denied involvement in the leaks, but too late. The veil was lifted. Laila stood on the balcony once again, watching the sun rise over a different city; a city that could no longer claim ignorance. Cassian joined her, handing her a fresh mug of tea. "One fire lit a forest," he said. Laila nodded. "We're not done." "No," he agreed, "but we've begun."
