As I opened the folder, a jolt of adrenaline coursed through me. Inside, there was only a single photograph—no documents, no briefing notes, no identifying marks. Just the image of an older man, his expression cold and unreadable. I quickly flipped through the pages, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me.“Sir,” I said, closing the folder, “what does this mean?”The commanding officer stepped forward, his face stern. “His name is Maxwell Kurt,” he said. “He is the current president of Dead Island.”The words hit me like a physical blow.“He is in hiding,” the officer continued. “Intelligence confirms that he has taken refuge in a deserted compound at the edge of the island. It’s a fortified bunker. Our sources are reliable, and they indicate that he will be staying there for some time.”He paused, allowing the gravity of the information to sink in. “If we strike now, we can end this war. We can avoid a prolonged campaign and prevent further loss of our troops. It’s a single, decisi
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