Captain Daniel Okoro's team was hiding behind a row of dirt mounds, getting ready for their last attack. The sun was beating down on them nonstop. Their mission in northern Nigeria wasn't just another operation; it was the end of years of terrible fighting. Daniel looked around the desert, and his dark eyes narrowed as he breathed in time with the dry wind. It smelt like perspiration and sand in the air. There was no room for mistakes here.
"Are you ready, sir?" Tunde Adebayo, his second-in-command, whispered to him and crouched down next to him, looking out over the horizon for any signs of danger.
"Always," Daniel said, his voice steady. "At my command, we will proceed."
Daniel had gone through a lot of bad things before, but today seemed different. The job was easy: protect the region and get rid of the Boko Haram cells that were said to be there. But his thoughts drifted. He thought about every soldier's face and every friend who had died. The battle had changed him so much that he hardly knew who he was anymore.
As the group got together and got their guns ready, Daniel looked at the guys he was in charge of one more time. They were all experienced troops who had been through a lot of battles and were determined. But the assignment was a heavy burden for him.
He told them, "Let's make this quick." "There is no time for mistakes."
He looked at his squad. His speech was cool, but his heart was racing, as it always did before a fight. The wind howled in his ears, making everything seem far away, as if the world was holding its breath.
But as they started to walk, the ground beneath their boots changed.
Daniel's stomach got tight. Something was on its way.
The ground shook with a rumbling rumble, and the far-off horizon was covered in sand. A dense, powerful dust cloud started to roll at them. It came out of nowhere and turned the pristine sky into a wall of orange dust that couldn't be seen through.
"Storm!" Daniel yelled with wide eyes. "Get out of the way! Now!"
The troop rushed for cover, but the storm was faster, and its strong winds tore through their ranks.
Daniel's thoughts were racing. It wasn't just a storm; it was a sign. Something didn't seem right.
The dust swirled around them, making the area look like a mess.
The group moved forward through the dense, whirling dust. As the storm drove against them, each step felt heavier and harder to take. But this was their land today. They realised what was at risk.
Daniel raised his hand to tell the squad to stop. "Stay sharp." This is where they live. "We move quietly."
The men did what they were told, their features set in deadly determination. The storm's suffocating silence was a sharp contrast to the anxiety in the air. Daniel was anxious for more than just the weather. The Boko Haram troops were close by. They always were.
Tunde responded, "We can't be sure where they are, sir," and his voice was hardly heard over the wind. "Maybe just over the ridge."
Daniel nodded. His mind was already going faster than his body. Everything about the mission felt wrong. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as if there was more than just the storm in the distance.
Daniel said, "You're right," as he looked about at the empty field. The wind howled, and you could hardly hear voices in the distance. "Stay low."
Out of nowhere, a loud crack rang across the storm. A sniper's bullet flew through the air and hit Sergeant Joshua Olamide in the shoulder.
"Down!" Daniel yelled and dove to the ground as the team ran for shelter.
Joshua screamed in pain and held his wound. The blood spilt out of the body and into the sand. Tunde was already kneeling next to him, putting pressure on the wound.
"We're being shot at!" Daniel shouted. "Get in line! "Now, get into defensive positions!"
As another shot rang out, hitting the ground just inches from Daniel's face, the squad hurried to find shelter. They were walking into the war without knowing what was going on.
Daniel's thoughts raced. In this setting, the advantage changed in a flash. The dust storm was both a blessing and a burden for them. It let Boko Haram attack without being seen.
"Three o'clock!" Tunde yelled and pointed to the ridge. Figures moved in the storm, hard to see but definitely there.
Daniel said, "Take them out." "Go quickly—no mistakes."
The team's training kicked in. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, with each soldier knowing what to do. Daniel's mind was acute, and he thought through every action, guessing what the opposition would do next. He couldn't afford to wait much longer.
Daniel said, "We've got them boxed in," as he looked about. "Get up and move about to build up a crossfire. I'll take the left side.
"Copy that," Tunde said, telling the group to spread out.
They moved like shadows, and each soldier got into position without making a sound. The wind was now on their side, hiding what they were doing. Daniel moved closer to the ridge, grasping the assault rifle securely and was ready for whatever happened next.
A shot came from the enemy side. Daniel shot back, and the sound of gunfire echoed through the dusty air. The squad shot at the same time, keeping the adversary trapped down. But just as it looked like they were about to win, they heard another shout from the opposite side of the mountain.
"They're coming up beside us!" Tunde yelled.
Daniel's heart raced. They were being closed in on. Things had just gotten worse.
"Get the formation tighter," Daniel yelled. "We're not going to lose anyone today."
Daniel knew one thing for sure: this struggle was only just begun.
Daniel murmured, "On me," in a voice that was hard to hear. His eyes were fixed on the command centre ahead, where the leaders of Boko Haram had been working.
He was doing maths in his head, figuring out how many guards and exits there were. Every step had to be just so.
"Five meters," Tunde muttered, his voice calm but anxious as he crept next to Daniel.
"Go," Daniel said.
The team separated into two groups, each with the job of taking out important positions. Daniel took his team to the left side. He made a signal, and the sound of gunshots broke the night's calm, cutting through the tension like a knife.
A terrorist came out from behind a barricade with his rifle raised. Daniel fell to one knee and shot the man twice in the chest.
"Clear," Tunde stated as he moved to the next place.
They seized the command centre and moved through it with military precision. The squad set off charges at key spots, and explosions shook the building.
Daniel's pulse raced as he walked through the debris and the sound of the explosion echoed around him.
"Mission accomplished, sir," Tunde remarked, his eyes shining with satisfaction.
Daniel took a breath and got ready to say he had won. But then he saw something on the floor: a piece of paper that had been thrown away and was half-buried in the dust. He bent down and pulled it free. It was a map, but not just any map. The roads went to a few places in Nigeria, including military bases—his military bases.
There was a problem. This wasn't just a raid; it was part of a wider scheme.
The team gathered around to assess the situation after securing the compound. The assignment went well, but Daniel couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He leaned against a wall with his gun across his knees and looked about at the carnage.
Tunde said, "Good work today," and gave him a pat on the back as he walked by. But the words didn't seem real, like they didn't mean anything.
Daniel glanced out over the desert, and the stillness of what had happened weighed on him. His team had triumphed, but what did it cost? He thought of the many friends he had lost in prior conflicts, and each one made his heart feel heavier.
"Six years," he said to himself. "Six years of killing, fighting, and losing people..."
Tunde came back and sat next to him. "You've seen more than most, but you can't carry it all."
Daniel moaned, and his eyes got darker. "I can't just forget about it, Tunde." "Every face, every mission—it all adds up."
He looked at the map he had found. Carrying it now was more difficult for him. It wasn't just the attack he had led; it was all he had done. He had battled for the greater good, but what if that greater good was really a lie?
He was lost in deep thought when he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up and saw them: two senior officers in crisp uniforms with clear disdain in their eyes.
One of them, Colonel Olamide, sneered, "Captain Okoro." "Good job today."
Daniel stood up with a blank look on his face. "Sir, is there something you need?"
The officers looked at each other, and then Olamide leaned in and spoke softly. "You've done well, but people are talking. You know what happens to soldiers who raise questions.
Daniel's heart raced, and his hand reached for his rifle without thinking. But he held back, his mind whirling.
"Do you have any questions?" Daniel asked, his voice calm but with an edge.
Olamide stepped aside and said, "Don't push it." "You're a part of something much bigger than you think."
Daniel's pulse raced as they walked away. What did they mean by that? What was he missing?