The war room pulsed with quiet tension. A circular table glowed in the center, projecting the latest tactical map in flickering light. All eyes were drawn to it, yet none dared speak first.
General Odo stood at the head of the room, a commanding presence wrapped in discipline and legacy. The commanders had already been briefed. Today was not about updates or battle plans. Today was about the traitor—one of their own.
The door hissed open.
"Captain Tade Odo," the General announced, though no introduction was needed.
Tade entered with crisp footsteps, his posture sharp and eyes steady. He offered a respectful nod to each commander before taking his place beside his father. Though his uniform bore no special markings, the weight of his lineage—and his battlefield record—preceded him.
Commander Helda inclined her head. "Welcome, Captain. We've been expecting you."
Commander Otunba gave a simple nod, eyes unreadable, arms still folded. His presence was quiet, but attentive.
"Let's get to it," General Odo began, voice cutting through the room like a blade. "You all know why we're here. Our operations have been compromised. Repeatedly. That does not happen unless someone inside this command is feeding information to the enemy."
Commander Helda spoke first. "The Freedom Fighters couldn't have struck the eastern cell without insider knowledge. That wasn't guesswork—it was precision. Captain Tade's insight into the leak will be key to stopping this."
"We've analyzed all movement logs, comms records, and shift rotations," Tade said, stepping forward. "There's no obvious pattern yet, but that tells us something. The spy isn't sloppy. Which means they're careful, smart, and well-placed."
Commander Helda gave a curt nod. "You've read the file on the last three security breaches?"
"I have," Tade replied. "And I have a proposal."
The room stilled.
"We leak false intel," he continued. "A fake convoy—high-value, believable, but rigged. Not just with decoy cargo, but trace tech—nano-dust and GPS-encoded thermal plates. Something we can follow if it moves."
Helda glanced at Odo, then back to Tade. "You think that'll smoke them out?"
"It won't catch them outright," Tade admitted. "But it will isolate where the leak is coming from. We narrow the channel, we tighten the watch, and we bait them again. Sooner or later, they'll bite too deep."
General Odo's voice followed, low and certain. "Commander Helda, you'll oversee the operational logistics. Captain Tade will monitor from within. He'll have full clearance—my orders."
Helda didn't hesitate. "Understood, General."
All eyes turned briefly to Commander Otunba. He remained still, a statue of the man he used to be. Since his replacement by Helda, his voice in these meetings had grown rare.
"Commander Otunba," Odo said evenly, "you'll be kept informed as needed. Support as required."
A flicker of something crossed Otunba's face—old pride or unspoken thoughts—but he gave a slow nod.
"Yes, General."
There was no tension, no rebellion. Just quiet obedience.
"If this works," Tade said, "we'll finally have a way to cut the rot from inside. And if it fails—well, at least we'll know who moves when the bait drops."
General Odo gave a final glance around the room, his gaze settling longest on Otunba before he spoke.
"Dismissed. We act in seventy-two hours. Stay sharp."
As the commanders filed out, Helda gave Tade a brief nod of approval. "You carry your father's reputation like armor. Just make sure it doesn't become a target."
Tade offered a faint smile. "Armor's only good if you know where it cracks."
Behind them, Otunba lingered in silence, his eyes not on the map—but on the door they'd just exited through.