Dangerous to know /ONC 2023

Two

Fox slid into the Hummer's driver's seat, the leather creaking beneath him, and he slammed the door shut with a heavy thud. He sped away, making his way toward town. He questioned why Volkov was inquiring about Night Drop as he drove towards the US embassy. Had they enlisted his services for Night Drop, whatever it was? The assassin realized he was a paramilitary CIA officer for the ground section. Was Night Drop linked to the CIA in any way? He parked a few blocks away from the embassy. The CIA paramilitary operator needed a burner smartphone right away.

Observing the surrounding area, Fox stepped outside to examine it. He. As the assassin moved through the crowd, he quickly identified the Rigla drugstore. Through the entrance, he dashed in. The assassin approached the counter and mounted the phones on the wall. As the store clerk noticed the suspicious-looking man, he looked up.

"How can I assist you?" the clerk said, his tone interested.

"Yes, I'd like to buy one of those phones," Fox replied in his European accent, watching some people hanging around and waiting.

The clerk moved over to the wall, grabbed one of the mobile phones, and gave it to the man. Fox dug into his pocket and took a few euros out. He had discovered it earlier at Volkov's safe house. The assassin departed via the front door while entering a secure ten-digit number he'd miraculously memorized.

Five seconds later, a secure connection buzzed in on the eleventh level of the United States Embassy. As he answered the phone, the station chief snatched it from his grasp.

"Is it you, Fox? Where are you? I'll send a squad to get you," the intelligence head inquired.

He had no way of knowing if he could trust the station head or what type of team he would put together. If anyone suspected that he had gone off the grid after vanishing suddenly, it would be a team of military snipers assigned to take him out.

"I'm standing outside the pharmacy on my way to the embassy. Do you want to explain why a Russian oligarch has my redacted file? "Can you tell me about Night Drop?" Fox inquired.

Before speaking, the station chief halted for a moment. "Volkov is an asset of ours.Everyone is looking for you. 'Night drop is beyond my clearance."

With a loud clatter, the assassin let the burner drop to the pavement, then felt the crunch of metal beneath his foot as he crushed it. Fox knew about the Russian oligarchs in his neighborhood, with their wealth and power. Because of sanctions and war in the region, the CIA wanted to know what role Ivano played in the GRU's operations in Ukraine. As a former CIA agent, Volkov was associated with the agency. Nightdrop remained a mystery to him, however.

Fox sprinted along the congested cobblestone walkway toward the embassy gates. He stayed out of range of the CCTV cameras with facial recognition capabilities. The assassin crept through the trees, taking in the sight of the embassy. With pinpoint accuracy, the snipers peered through the optics of their FN Ballista scopes, and the resounding boom of their guns filled the air. As the ex-CIA paramilitary officer saw a vehicle nearing the embassy gates, he sprinted across the street.

As he observed the driver and realized it was a CIA officer, he was elated and thought this was perfect.

With no gun, he improvised as he hurried to the black sedan. As Fox slid into the back seat, he grabbed the back door and slowly opened it.

"Drive!" the assassin ordered. "Just keep your head straight." No sudden moves, or else I will put a round into you."

The driver nodded uncomfortably and drove cautiously through the security barrier.Fox was aware that he was being watched by CIA security personnel, so he kept his head down in case they saw him. He directed the driver to drive to the compound and park at the embassy before departing. It would be too dangerous to stroll in. Fox exited the vehicle and walked up to the side door. He carefully opened the door and raced inside, closing it behind him. The CIA paramilitary officer dashed up the stairs, rushing for the section in charge of CIA activities.

Agents and analysts rushed back and forth, exchanging information. The assassin located the office of CIA station chief Conor Dallas. When he entered, he flung the door open. Dallas grimaced as he looked up at the files on his desk. As he recognized Fox, he leaped to his feet.

"What the heck, Fox?" "I promised you I'd send a squad to get you," the CIA station head demanded.

"I'd want to know about the twelve billion dollars I discovered in a duffel bag," the assassin inquired.

"Conor sighed while he ran his fingers over his silver hair. "You have no recollection of your mission? "You were in Ukraine."

"Nothing, only my name and the fact that I was a paramilitary officer," Fox explained.

As long as Fox had no recollection of his undercover assignment. There was nothing to be concerned about, the station head reasoned. He had worked for the CIA for a long time and saw an opportunity to benefit from the situation in Ukraine.

Fox realized immediately that Station Chief Dallas had something to do with his undercover job. Yet it was how he inquired if he recalled his objective. He wiped his chin as his gaze was drawn to an image of Dallas and the Russian President standing side by side. Something wasn't quite right.

"Do you still have the duffel bag of cash, Fox?" "We're going to need that to get you back up and running," the station head inquired.

The assassin halted for a beat. Please wait a minute; he was in Ukraine on an undercover mission. What was he doing there? Has he just stepped right into the lion's den? Knowing it. He remembered. What the station head informed him over the phone earlier When was he outside the drugstore? The night drop was beyond his reach. He wonders how high Night Drop went.

Station chief Dallas stepped over to his desk, reached down to the bottom drawer, drew out his silenced Glock 21, and said "Unfortunately for you, Fox, you never obtain the answers you seek. It would be best if you left things alone.

Fox rushed with all his strength towards the desk, balling his fist, and swung a kidney punch into the station chief's kidney, knocking the breath out of him. The barrel remained leveled at him. The assassin wrenched Dallas' wrist, fracturing it as the weapon dropped to the ground.

Fox grabbed the weapon and shot the intelligence chief in the head. He rushed out of the office, dropping the pistol on the floor, and down the flight of stairs to the side door. He came from the building and walked up to the vehicle, throwing the CIA officer out.