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The gate to the base opened as Antonio and his entourage drove in.

The men here were all dressed in kurtas and turbans. Most had the tanned skin tones peculiar to Middle Easterns, and their big turbans and long moustaches were a scene to behold.

With a slight nod, Antonio sent them a look of approval, as he dropped from the armoured tank, escorted by the five men who went to pick him.

''Boss, would you like to rest now or proceed to hear the Intel we've gathered all this while?'' The tanned man closest to him, who stood at six feet and seven inches, asked.

His husky voice, tinged with the local accent, resounded in the air, as the group walked forward towards the base entrance.

''The latter,'' Antonio replied in a fluent accent that sounded just like the locals.

As they advanced, the ruffians in the base shot a glance at Antonio, their eyes beaming with reverence.

Soon, they reached a large iron door, towering up to three metres with a width of several metres. The door was bulletproof
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