Whispers in the Shadow
The electronically masked voice from one of the screens, the one that had expressed initial disbelief about the rivals, spoke again, its tone now laced with a pragmatic concern. "The fallout from this incident extends beyond our immediate losses. An attack of this magnitude, so close to the Indian border, will undoubtedly put their security forces on high alert. Their intelligence agencies will be scrambling for answers, their military posture likely to become more aggressive in the region."
A ripple of agreement seemed to pass through the silent figures on the screens.
"Therefore," the voice continued, a decisive edge entering its tone, "any planned movements or operations within that specific border region are to be put on hold indefinitely. We cannot afford to attract further scrutiny from the Indian government at this juncture. Our focus must shift, for the time being, to other areas of operation."
Another voice, one that hadn't spoken before, rasped from a screen on the far wall. "And where do you propose we redirect our efforts?"
"Our networks near the southern and eastern borders of India remain active and less likely to draw immediate suspicion in connection with this Himalayan incident," the first voice replied. "We will concentrate our resources on those areas, intensifying our activities there. Our objectives remain the same, but our geographical focus must adapt to the current circumstances."
Mr. Snake, who had been listening intently, his gaze still sweeping across the silent council, offered his perspective. "That is a prudent course of action. Increased activity near the Indian border now would be… unwise. It would only serve to confirm their suspicions, regardless of who was actually responsible for the attack."
The deep, authoritative voice from the central screen addressed Mr. Snake directly. "Your assessment of the situation on the ground is valuable, Mr. Snake. You are familiar with the operational landscape in that region."
"I have some understanding," Mr. Snake replied, his voice measured.
"Given your familiarity," the deep voice continued, "your operational mandate will remain within your current parameters. Your movements are restricted to the five neighboring countries where you have established networks. Your priority now is to gather intelligence related to this attack, focusing specifically on any unusual activity or chatter within those regions that might point towards our rivals. You are also to utilize your existing contacts to discreetly probe for any information regarding the attackers of the Himalayan camp. Understood?"
"Understood," Mr. Snake affirmed. His operational scope, while significant, was clearly defined. He was a key commander, responsible for specific territories, but not part of the inner circle that dictated overall strategy.
The sharp, impatient voice cut in again. "But what resources will he have? His primary camp is gone. His personnel likely lost."
"Mr. Snake has proven resourceful in the past," the deep voice countered, a hint of authority silencing the interruption. "He will utilize his remaining assets and his established networks. He will be provided with the necessary financial and logistical support, channeled through secure and untraceable means. Your focus, Mr. Snake, is intelligence gathering, not direct engagement. Avoid any actions that could expose our wider network or provoke unnecessary conflict in your designated areas."
"My priority is to understand who attacked us and why," Mr. Snake stated, his damaged eye glinting with a cold determination. "Retaliation, if warranted, can come later. For now, information is our most valuable weapon."
The first voice, the one who had initially spoken of the Indian government's reaction, added a cautionary note. "Remember, Mr. Snake, discretion is paramount. Your movements must remain covert. Any undue attention drawn to your activities could jeopardize not only your own operation but our entire network."
"I operate in the shadows," Mr. Snake replied, a hint of grim satisfaction in his tone. "It is where I am most effective."
The rasping voice from the far screen spoke again, its tone cynical. "And what if it was the Indians? What if they have developed capabilities we were unaware of?"
"That remains a possibility that cannot be discounted," the deep voice acknowledged. "However, Mr. Snake's initial assessment, based on the methodology of the attack, leans towards our rivals. We will pursue both lines of inquiry. Our intelligence assets within India will be tasked with discreetly investigating any new or enhanced capabilities within their special forces. But for now, the rival theory remains the primary focus."
A final voice, one that had been silent until now, spoke, its tone soft but carrying an undeniable weight. "This attack was a message. We must understand the content of that message before we can formulate an appropriate response. Mr. Snake, your findings will be crucial in shaping our next course of action. Do not underestimate the gravity of this situation."
"I do not," Mr. Snake affirmed, his gaze unwavering. He understood the weight of their words, the unspoken threat that hung in the air. The loss of the camp was more than just a tactical setback; it was a breach of their security, a challenge to their dominance, and a stark reminder that even in the shadows, they were not untouchable.
With a final nod to the silent council on the screens, Mr. Snake turned and moved towards the exit of the underground chamber. The weight of their expectations, the urgency of their demands, settled upon him like a physical burden. His mission was clear: to unravel the mystery of the Himalayan attack, to identify the perpetrators, and to provide the shadow council with the information they needed to decide their next move. He was a commander without a camp, his resources scattered, but his resolve remained unbroken. He would move through the shadows of the neighboring lands, a phantom seeking answers in the darkness, driven by the need to understand the enemy who had dared to strike at the heart of their organization. The game had changed, and Mr. Snake, the scarred veteran of countless clandestine battles, was now on the hunt.