The journey had been far from easy.
Whether Malirans or Malorians, the two major ethnic groups within the country had one very obvious distinguishing feature—their eye color.
It was not easy for Federal personnel to conceal their identities among them. Moreover, although the warlords had ceased their fighting for the time being, constantly crossing through the territories of various factions was also extremely difficult.
Fortunately, they had finally reached their designated destination.
The moment they emerged from the jungle, a modern city tinged with traces of history appeared before them.
At that instant, it was as if a vast presence had surged toward them.
There was clearly no wind, yet they felt a faint breeze brushing across their faces.
Every member of this team was a top-tier specialist in some field within the Federal Military. There were demolition experts who could calmly use whatever was at hand to make bombs of all kinds and varying power.
There was a super sniper with an extremely high hit rate even at a thousand meters.
There was a battlefield doctor who could quickly and effectively treat any wound. Even someone on the verge of death could be made to get back on his feet and fight a little longer under his care, burning through the last of his vitality.
Drivers, infiltrators...
With nine people in a team, they represented the current limit of individual combat skills in the Federal Military.
"Send the message..."
The speaker was the Captain, codenamed Commander.
At first, the team members had been extremely unhappy with his unbearably arrogant codename. It made everyone else seem... somewhat low-level. But after some friendly sparring, they all acknowledged his position.
The communications operator, codenamed Carrier Pigeon, then set down the telegraph machine. The soldier codenamed Laborer, who specialized in covering the rear