The cargo plane's ramp lowered with a mechanical whine, letting in a blast of humid evening air. Kabelo "Shadow" Ndlovu escorted the last of the rescued Syrian prisoners down the ramp and onto the tarmac, where a medical team waited with stretchers. It had been nearly 18 hours since the raid on Lab Sirocco, and now the task force had returned to a covert NATO airstrip in southern Turkey for debrief and triage.
Shadow watched as Naledi gently handed off a young female survivor to a medic, speaking softly in Arabic to reassure her that she was safe now. The woman, eyes hollow with trauma, clutched Naledi's hand for a moment before letting go. Naledi offered a warm, if weary, smile before stepping back. As the medics wheeled the survivors toward a temporary field clinic, Shadow saw the tension in Naledi's shoulders finally ease a fraction. Saving those people had clearly meant a lot to her.
Nearby, Ian Pierce stretched his arms and groaned. "Remind me never to fall asleep on a cargo net again. My back is killing me," he muttered. Despite his complaint, he shot Kabelo a grin. The tech specialist had spent the flight hunched over his laptop, decrypting and sorting the data they'd taken from the lab, and now sported dark circles under his eyes.
Reed was the first to head toward the hangar where Commander Raines and an intel team were waiting. Ever the professional, Reed had already been compiling a preliminary report. He walked briskly, a tablet in hand, looking none the worse for wear despite their nocturnal battle.
Shadow fell into step beside Naledi as they followed. "How are they?" he asked quietly, nodding toward the evacuees.
"Stable, for now," Naledi replied. Up close, Kabelo could see the fatigue in her face, the smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. "Mostly dehydration, malnutrition, some drug withdrawal symptoms. They'll need long-term care for the trauma. But at least they're out of that nightmare."
Kabelo nodded. "Thanks to you." He meant it sincerely. Naledi had been instrumental in both freeing and calming the captives.
She shook her head. "Thanks to all of us. We couldn't leave them." There was a steely resolve in her voice. Shadow recognized it as the core of who Naledi was: a protector, determined to save lives in the midst of destruction.
Inside the hangar turned command center, fluorescent lights illuminated a makeshift operations room. Maps and satellite photos were pinned on portable boards. Commander Raines stood at a table strewn with documents and electronic equipment. He looked up as the team entered, his expression equal parts relief and urgency.
"Good work in Syria," Raines began without preamble. "You stopped a dangerous operation and saved some people. Be proud of that. But we've got a lot to sift through now."
Pierce wasted no time plugging his laptop into a larger monitor. "I've organized the data we pulled," he said, his tone all business now. "Let's just say, Project Prometheus's bastard children are everywhere."
He tapped a key and a list of file directories appeared on the screen. "Much of it is technical - experimental logs, results of trials on those poor souls we found. But also correspondence. Emails, coded messages between the lab and various contacts."
Reed stepped up, arms crossed as he examined the list. "I've gone over some on the flight. They confirm that lab was receiving funding and instructions from intermediaries connected to an arms broker – likely Wolfe. They were test-driving a serum to enhance soldiers' aggression and pain tolerance. Early versions came from Prometheus stock, funneled out after the main project fell."
Commander Raines pointed to an entry on Pierce's list. "What's this 'Chimera'?"
Pierce clicked it open. The monitor displayed a series of email threads. "Looks like communications between the Syrian lab and an entity codenamed Chimera. From context, Chimera appears to be another parallel program or site doing similar research. Possibly the name of an operation run by one of Wolfe's other clients."
Kabelo leaned forward. The word chimera jumped out at him—mythological, like Prometheus. "Do we know who or where Chimera is?" he asked.
Reed scrolled through one message that had been translated from French. "This one is from the lab director to someone called 'Colonel M.' It details the latest batch of serum and asks for feedback on field performance from Chimera's trials." Reed's eyes sharpened. "Colonel M… There's mention of a location — coordinates in Central Africa, deep in the eastern Congo."
Naledi drew a sharp breath. "Eastern Congo… A militia stronghold, perhaps?"
Raines furrowed his brow. "The Congo has had numerous warlords controlling patches of territory. 'Colonel M'—could that be one of them?"
Reed nodded grimly. "Likely. If I cross-reference, I recall intel on a rogue Colonel named Mwamba operating in North Kivu province. Formerly an officer in the Congolese army, went rogue, now leads a militia. He's been off the radar except for reports of brutal campaigns in remote villages. Could be our 'Colonel M.'"
Naledi's jaw clenched at the mention of Mwamba. Kabelo noticed her hand unconsciously tighten into a fist at her side. She clearly recognized the name.
Pierce continued, "According to these messages, the Syrian lab shipped several vials of serum to this Colonel M a few months ago. In return, Chimera—Colonel M's people—sent back data on how it performed in combat. Listen to this excerpt." Pierce opened an attachment, reading aloud: "'Subject soldiers exhibited 300% increase in pain tolerance. Berserker-like aggression observed. Minimal regard for self-preservation. Drawback: after approximately 20 minutes, subjects experienced cardiac overload or collapse. Further refinement needed.'"
"Jesus," Shadow muttered under his breath. It sounded like Mwamba had been testing the serum on his fighters, turning them into frenzied killers who fought until their hearts gave out. The brutality of it made his stomach turn.
Naledi looked pale, fury simmering beneath the surface. "I've heard of Colonel Mwamba," she said quietly. "He's known in the region for unspeakable cruelty. If he's been using his own men—or prisoners—as guinea pigs, we need to put an end to it."
Commander Raines gave a sober nod. "Agreed. Colonel Mwamba just moved to the top of our target list. This data is invaluable; we have proof tying him to these enhancement experiments. That gives us a clear mandate to act."
Reed tapped another file. "There's more. The data from the lab also references other codenames: Thanatos, Gauntlet, Surya… likely other projects or buyers in different regions. Wolfe's network is extensive. He's essentially seeding multiple conflicts with this tech. Mwamba's Chimera is just one head of the hydra."
Kabelo exhaled slowly. The scope of what they were facing was coming into focus. Dismantling Prometheus was not a matter of shutting down one project, but many offshoots sprouting globally.
Raines crossed his arms, addressing the team. "One thing at a time. We have an actionable lead in Congo. We'll move on that immediately. Taking down Mwamba's operation will not only stop one vicious warlord, but also cut off one branch of Wolfe's distribution chain. Perhaps we can capture intel on Wolfe's whereabouts or other clients in the process."
At the mention of capturing intel, Reed gave a slight nod, his eyes glinting with determination. "Mwamba might even know how to reach Wolfe directly, if we get the chance to interrogate him."
Pierce snorted softly. "Assuming the Colonel doesn't blow himself up with his own roid-raging fighters first."
Kabelo noticed Naledi had gone unusually quiet, her gaze fixed on the satellite map of Eastern Congo pinned to a board. He stepped closer to her. "Naledi, you all right?" he asked under his breath.
She blinked, then forced a tight smile. "Yes. Just thinking about what we might find there."
Her tone was controlled, but Kabelo sensed something underneath. He recalled she'd served as a combat medic in various hotspots. Perhaps the Congo was one of them. He made a mental note to talk to her later, if time allowed.
Commander Raines began outlining the plan. "We'll deploy to the DRC under deep cover. Officially, no one is authorizing an incursion on Congolese soil, so this is strictly deniable. Our objective will be to locate Colonel Mwamba's base of operations and dismantle Project Chimera. Priority targets: any stockpiles of serum or tech, intel relating to Wolfe or other buyers, and the extraction of any scientists or personnel with knowledge. Colonel Mwamba himself is high-value; capture if possible. If not, neutralize."
He looked to Naledi and Shadow. "Also, if there are prisoners or villagers in harm's way, do what you can for them. That said, the mission can't turn into a large-scale humanitarian operation. We're four operators, not an NGO or an army."
Naledi's lips pressed thin, but she voiced a steady "Understood, sir."
Pierce chimed in, "I've got satellite imagery of Mwamba's likely territory." He brought up grainy images of dense jungle and scattered clearings with thatched huts. One image showed a larger encampment by a river—several long structures, perhaps a base. "This here is rumored to be Mwamba's main camp. No roads in or out—jungle covers everything. They rely on footpaths and the river. We'll likely have to halo jump in or come by river quietly."
Raines nodded. "We'll insert you via high altitude parachute drop, pre-dawn, to a clearing about 5 klicks from the target. From there, you move on foot to recon the camp by daylight. Strike at night when his fighters are least alert. Mwamba's men are reportedly numerous—maybe fifty or more in the area—but mostly lightly armed. However, we must assume some of them could be dosed with the serum, meaning they'll be hyper-aggressive and hard to put down. So choose your engagements carefully. Stealth and surprise are your friends."
Kabelo took in the map. The camp was near a river bend, with jungle on three sides. A guard perimeter was likely. It wouldn't be a straightforward in-and-out like the lab. It was an open environment, larger, with many combatants.
Reed spoke up, "An asset to recover is a scientist named Dr. Stephen Mbeke. He's mentioned in the files as a contact of Mwamba's, presumably forced to run the experiments. If he's alive, we extract him. He could have invaluable information."
Naledi's eyes flickered at the name Mbeke. "Stephen Mbeke… I knew a Dr. Mbeke when I was with Doctors Without Borders. He ran a clinic in Goma years back." She paused, swallowing. "He went missing when a rebel group overran the area. I never knew what happened to him. If it's the same man, we have to get him out of there."
Her personal connection hung in the air. Raines gave her a sympathetic look. "We will do our best, Lieutenant. Just remember, stick to the mission parameters."
She met the commander's gaze and straightened. "Yes, sir."
Pierce shut his laptop, the plan set. "I'll prep a drone for aerial recon once on the ground, and a sat uplink to feed intel back."
Raines concluded, "You all have one hour to refit gear for jungle warfare. Get some quick chow and hydrate. Wheels up at 2300. A C-17 will take you out of here. Good luck. This one's personal for a lot of people—make it count."
Dismissed, the team scattered to prepare. Kabelo found himself walking next to Naledi as they headed to the armory. She was uncharacteristically quiet. Finally, he gently touched her arm, halting her by a stack of supply crates where they had a moment alone.
"Naledi," he said softly, "I can tell this mission hits close to home. What is it about Mwamba? You don't have to tell me, but if you want to…"
She looked down, then back up at him. In her eyes, a storm of memories swirled. "It's all right. You should know who we're dealing with." Naledi drew a breath. "Three years ago, I was working a medical camp in North Kivu, near the Rwenzori mountains. Warlord violence was common, but our camp was neutral, or so we thought. One night, a militia attacked… it was Mwamba's men. They accused the doctors of spying for the government." Her voice faltered slightly. "They… executed Dr. Mbeke's wife in front of him. We tried to evacuate, but it was chaos. I was captured with a group of patients."
Kabelo listened quietly, anger slowly burning in his chest at what she described. He had seen his own share of cruelty, but hearing it from Naledi's past made it visceral.
"I managed to escape into the jungle after two days," Naledi continued. "Not everyone was so lucky. Dr. Mbeke was taken. Many others were killed or never found. I vowed if I ever had the power to stop Mwamba, I would." She straightened, clearing the quaver from her voice. "Now here we are. I have that chance."
Shadow placed a hand on her shoulder in solidarity. "We'll stop him. Together."
Naledi gave a grateful, determined nod. "Together."
They continued to the armory. For a jungle infiltration, Kabelo selected darker camouflaged fatigues and traded his heavier armor for lighter, silent gear better for moving under thick foliage. He checked his primary weapon: a suppressed carbine with a shorter barrel ideal for close quarters in bush, plus an under-barrel grenade launcher in case they needed explosive persuasion. For precision work, he still brought a compact marksman rifle strapped to his pack — in the jungle, visibility might be limited, but a scope could be useful for reconnaissance. And as always, his sidearm and knife were secured in easy reach.
Naledi donned tropical-weight combat gear and stocked her med kit with additional anti-venoms and antibiotics—jungle injuries could be nasty. She also took extra flex-cuffs and a small bolt cutter, anticipating possibly freeing captives from chains or cages.
Pierce loaded up on communications gear: a portable satellite relay, ruggedized tablet, and a couple of small recon drones including a fixed-wing glider drone for long aerial surveillance and a tiny quadcopter for close recon. He armed himself with a silenced MP7 submachine gun—small and handy for the dense terrain.
Reed opted for a blend of stealth and firepower. He carried an AK-103 rifle, a common weapon in the region—if things went loud, using the enemy's typical weapon could sow confusion. On his hip was his trusty pistol, and he pocketed extra ammo and a waterproof map marked with local villages and footpaths. Kabelo noticed Reed also pack a set of cable ties and a tactical tomahawk, of all things. Reed caught his puzzled look and just gave a faint smirk. "Never know when you need to chop through some jungle… or someone," he said wryly.
Before long, they were airborne again, this time in the belly of a C-17 transport plane roaring southward under cover of darkness. As they neared the drop zone high above the Congo rainforest, each member ran final equipment checks. Everyone donned HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) parachutes and oxygen masks for the covert jump.
In the red-lit bay of the plane, Commander Raines' voice came over their headsets one last time: "Mission code BLACK SPEAR is a go. Shadow, you lead once on ground. Remember, stealth is paramount. No heroics, just get it done. We'll have an exfil plan ready when you call. Good hunting."
Standing by the gaping rear ramp at 30,000 feet, Kabelo felt the night wind tear at his clothing. Below sprawled darkness, only a faint scatter of stars reflecting on what might be the snake of a river. Naledi was beside him, head bowed in a brief prayer. Pierce gave a nervous thumbs-up; despite all his bravado, jumping from this height into unknown jungles wasn't routine for a techie. Reed was stone-faced, focused.
Shadow raised a hand, three fingers up, counting down. Three…two…one. He stepped off into the void, and the others followed in quick succession.