It was a dark and quiet night.
In the heart of a military base on the outskirts of Al Khor, General Yusuf sat in his office, surrounded by thick files and soft music playing from a radio. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms, unaware that death was already walking toward him.
Adrian crouched behind a tall wall, watching through a c***k in the bricks. He wore black from head to toe, his face covered, eyes sharp and burning with rage. The wind blew gently, rustling the dry leaves. His fingers tapped his thigh, waiting, timing.
The guard at the front door yawned. Another one walked by, dragging his feet. Two more were smoking at the far end, laughing at some joke.
Adrian made his move.
Silent. Fast.
He crept up behind the first guard and wrapped a thick wire around his neck,
