Chapter 7-8 - The Rookie: Former Seal

Chapter 7 – Echoes of Steel and Federal Whispers

September 20, 2015 – 6:48 AM

Mid-Wilshire Police Station – Tactical Briefing Room

The day had barely begun, and already a silent storm was lingering in the station's hallways. Zoe Anderson, captain of Mid-Wilshire, stood before the flatscreen mounted on the wall of the tactical briefing room. The screen displayed a static image: the face of Sami Noor, now officially listed as missing under suspicious circumstances. Below it, the red caption: Investigation escalated – Federal Interest.

Angela Lopez sat with her arms crossed, staring at the screen, but her eyes were fixed on Derek Davis, who stood leaning against the wall, like a shadow in uniform. His face was as calm as ever, but there was a tension in the muscles of his jaw, as if he were controlling something that wanted to break free—not anger, but absolute focus.

Zoe turned to them. Her eyes were harder than usual.

"We were notified a little while ago. The FBI has taken over the investigation. At least part of it. International interference. Potential connection to a cell of ex-combatants."

Angela let out a silent sigh. Derek remained motionless.

"Will they lead? Or just supervise?" she asked.

"Initially, joint cooperation. They'll review our data, share what they have, and centralize progress." Zoe paused, then looked directly at Derek. "The Bureau's special counsel arrives this afternoon. She specifically asked to review the reports with... you."

Angela frowned.

"Does she know you?"

Derek replied, without changing his tone:

"Yes. We worked together in 2010. Her name is Jessica Russo."

Zoe nodded. "She's good. An expert in international terrorism, urban counterterrorism, and human intelligence. And apparently one of the few people who can talk to you without needing subtitles."

Angela gave Derek a curious look.

"You have... a history?"

Derek looked at her, and something almost imperceptible flashed in his eyes.

"Professional history. And... a little beyond that."

Angela didn't press, but the silence said more than any question.

2:13 PM – Main Conference Room – FBI Field Office, Downtown LA

The building was cold, clean, impersonal with that aseptic air only federal buildings could have. Derek and Angela walked past the detectors and scanners with their credentials clearly displayed, accompanied by a support agent to the room where the FBI consultant was waiting for them.

When the door opened, Angela immediately noticed the woman sitting at the center table: about 5'9", fair skin, dark brown hair tied back in a tight bun, dressed in a charcoal gray blazer and an impeccably pressed white shirt. She stood up with a military posture when she saw Derek.

"Chief Davis."

"Consultant Russo."

It was formal. Professional. But there was a tension in the air no one there could ignore. Angela caught it instantly Jessica's eyes scanning Derek with restrained familiarity, and the way Derek greeted her with a slow, measured, yet respectful nod.

"Officer Lopez, I'm Jessica Russo, a counterterrorism consultant with the FBI. I understand you led part of the local investigation. It's impressive how they made so much progress with so few federal resources involved."

Angela extended her hand and shook it firmly, without missing a beat.

"Thank you. Derek was instrumental in this. Without him, we would have been in the dark."

Jessica nodded, her eyes returning to Derek for a split second longer than necessary.

"Of course it was."

2:42 PM – Tactical Screening Room – FBI

The screen displayed satellite imagery, international travel records, and graphs of connections to potential sleeper cells. Jessica led the meeting with practiced confidence, using a remote control to toggle through the data as she spoke.

"Sami Noor has been identified as a former translator for sensitive NATO operations in Afghanistan. After coming to the US, he was linked to a network supporting Afghan defectors that, for some reason, ceased operations six months ago. Three members of that network have already disappeared in different American cities."

Angela leaned forward.

"Are you saying someone is... eliminating translators?"

— "Not just translators. Translators with knowledge of specific operations—names of local agents, logistical routes, infiltration movements. It's possible Noor was identified as a 'potential liability.'"

Derek frowned.

— "But Sami was a civilian. He never saw direct combat. He barely left the bases."

— "And precisely for that reason, he was valuable. He overheard conversations. He saw documents. If someone wanted to silence him, he didn't need to be a direct threat. Just a possibility."

Angela shook her head.

— "Are we talking about targeted killings?"

— "Yes. And there's evidence that at least two of the missing were last seen with the same man that our witness described following Sami. Only now, this man has a new name: Yusuf Hadar."

Derek froze for a second.

"That name…"

"Did you know him?"

"Hadar was a triple informant. He pretended to collaborate with the British, but sold information to Iranian militias and the Taliban. He disappeared in 2012. I thought he was dead."

"He's very much alive. And apparently, he's now operating in the US under a false identity. Connected to a refugee NGO. He's been in LA for at least four months."

Angela snorted.

"He's the liaison. He's the one who takes the names, chooses who needs to 'disappear.'"

Jéssica nodded.

"Our job now is to locate him and, if possible, arrest him. But we need to be discreet. He probably has cover, maybe even a diplomatic front."

Derek crossed his arms.

"We want to set up surveillance. Use linguistics to intercept possible encrypted messages in Pashto or Dari. Track vehicles. And I need Reza under protection."

Angela looked up at him, surprised. "Do you think he's at risk too?"

"Sami was using his Wi-Fi. And if Hadar tracked his access..."

Jessica nodded.

"We'll put him under Bureau protection. And we'll work together. Davis, you'll stay with me on this phase of the investigation. Your fluency and field knowledge are essential."

Angela looked at Derek, then at Jessica. She sensed something in the air. Something beyond the investigation. But she remained silent. For now.

7:12 PM – FBI – Technical Surveillance Room

Derek and Jessica were alone. The dark room was lit only by the blue lights of the screens. Codes flowed, transcripts of encrypted audio appeared and disappeared. But the silence inside was different.

"You're different," Jessica said after a few minutes.

Derek looked at her, without turning around.

"War changes people."

"You were already war when I met you."

He finally turned.

"And you were an agent with a thirst for justice. Now you seem more like a... diplomat."

She smiled slightly.

"Pain teaches you to negotiate. Blood teaches you to listen."

Silence. Tense. But honest.

"You should have told me you were coming to Los Angeles."

—"I didn't think I'd see you here."

—"I stayed," he said simply. "I stopped running."

She stepped closer.

—"And what did you find here?"

Derek hesitated. He thought of Angela. Of his sister. Of the Afghan child's eyes. Of the books. Of the peace he was trying to build, piece by piece.

—"Reasons."

Jessica nodded. There was something broken between them—but perhaps it could still be rebuilt. Or, at least, respected.

End of shift – 11:03 PM – FBI Parking Lot

Angela waited near the car, leaning against it with her arms crossed. When she saw Derek approaching, she raised an eyebrow.

—"So, how was your reunion with the Bureau legend?"

—"Professional. And productive."

She chuckled softly.

—"I know. Just remember one thing, Davis."

He stared at her.

"You don't need to go back to the past to solve the present. Sometimes, looking forward is the best way to honor what's left."

Derek stared at her for a few seconds. Then he nodded.

"Thank you, TO."

And for the first time, he seemed truly present—as if, finally, he were leaving the war behind... and entering, finally, into the peace of what lay ahead.

Chapter 8 – The Whisper Before the Coup

September 21, 2015 – 5:18 AM

Mobile Surveillance Base – Mid-City Neighborhood, Los Angeles

Inside the unmarked black van parked discreetly between a 24-hour laundromat and an Armenian restaurant, four monitors broadcast footage of a small NGO located across the street. The name on the facade was neutral: "House of Hope for Refugees from the East," with signs in Pashto, Dari, and English taped to the windows: "Legal Support. Food. Shelter."

But the place was not what it seemed.

Angela Lopez sat in the narrow seat of the van, taking silent sips of coffee as her eyes scanned the videos, searching for patterns. Derek Davis, beside her, stood firm, his headphones plugged into the listening channel of the microcamera hidden at the NGO's entrance. Jessica Russo, an FBI consultant, was in front, typing partial transcripts of the intercepted conversations on her tablet.

It was the third day of direct surveillance on Yusuf Hadar, the man identified as the link between cells of former Afghan fighters and the mysterious disappearances of translators like Sami Noor. And today, they had reason to believe Hadar would make contact with a new "target."

"He's here," Derek murmured, his eyes fixed on one of the monitors. "Blue shirt, black backpack, gray cap. Same pattern as the previous two days."

Angela leaned in to see.

"He always arrives early... and always alone."

"Field agent discipline," Derek added. "Precise movement. No deviations. A calculated gait."

Jessica swiveled in her front chair and pulled out her left earpiece.

"We have incoming audio. Male voice. Stand by."

The words came as a metallic whisper:

"Da mashwara de, zama raor de. Khabare kom chay..."

("It's advice. He's my brother. I told you...")

"Language confirmed: Western Pashto," Derek said. "Familiar reference. Could be someone he's protecting or preparing for an approach."

Angela looked at him.

"Did you catch the name?"

Derek frowned.

"Yes. He mentioned Reza."

Jessica froze. The tablet in her hand almost fell.

"Do they know who Reza is?"

Derek slowly removed his headphones.

"Not only do they know. They're monitoring."

Angela was already pulling out her radio.

"Mobile unit two, confirm perimeter at Reza Wazir's house. Full protection. He may be marked as the next target."

On the other end, the radio crackled with the voice of an FBI agent:

"Secure house. Protective team already on site. No suspicious activity yet."

But the atmosphere inside the van hardened.

"We have to act today," Derek said firmly.

"Based on what?" Jessica challenged him. "An indirect mention?"

"Hadar is tracking. If he mentioned Reza, he's already crossed the line."

Angela nodded. "And if Reza is being monitored, any delay could be fatal."

Jessica looked at them both. After a few tense seconds, she relented.

"We'll mount a controlled intervention. But only if we confirm direct contact with another collaborator."

7:12 AM – Outside the NGO

Derek and Angela took over undercover, in plain clothes. Derek wore dark jeans, a gray shirt, and a navy blue jacket, with his holster hidden beneath the fabric. Angela wore tactical pants and a simple black blouse, her hair tied back, and sunglasses. They were sitting on a bench in the square less than 50 meters from the NGO's entrance.

The movement was normal: mothers with small children, young people entering with backpacks, middle-aged men leaving with bags of groceries.

But then, at 7:24 AM, a man approached Hadar at the door. Dark skin, short hair, a gray sports coat, sneakers too clean for the neighborhood. Signs of someone out of place in the local scene.

Derek immediately noticed the detail.

"That's no ordinary refugee. Look at the way he walks. The way he holds his backpack. He's military. Or was."

Angela was already reaching for the hidden microphone attached to the lapel of her coat.

"This is 7-Adam-15. We have possible direct contact. Two individuals in a side conversation. Nonverbal communication present. Requesting clearance for controlled approach."

On the other side, Jessica replied:

"Approach authorized. Support teams on the way."

Derek stood up. "Let's go."

7:29 AM – Side Approach Route – Trenton Street

The two split up. Angela circled the building on the right, while Derek approached from the back street. The plan was to intercept Hadar if he tried to escape via the side route, as he had done on one of the previous occasions.

Just as the unknown contact handed Hadar something small—it looked like a flash drive—a third man emerged from a car parked two meters away. He was armed.

"Armed target! Retreat! Retreat!" Angela shouted into the radio.

Hadar ran into the alley. The armed man turned with his gun drawn.

Derek reacted in seconds.

"Gun!" he shouted, drawing his pistol.

A shot. A clean shot, straight into the shoulder of the armed man, who fell to the ground screaming.

Angela already advanced, knocking the second man down with a blow from the retractable baton. He fell onto the hood of the car.

Derek caught up with Hadar in the alley. The man was running, but Derek was faster. He took him down with a precise blow to the knee, sending him falling with a hoarse scream. He immobilized him with brutal efficiency.

"You just crossed the line, Hadar."

"I'm a civilian! I have diplomatic immunity!" he shouted, spitting blood.

Derek tightened the handcuffs precisely.

"Then you'll explain this to your lawyer after you've been charged with conspiracy to commit murder."

9:16 AM – FBI – Interrogation Room

Hadar remained silent for twenty minutes, until Jessica entered with Derek. The man looked away. He was dejected, but not defeated.

"You used the NGO to track refugees. You identified those who helped the United States. Then you eliminated them or handed them over to outside cells."

Hadar didn't answer.

Derek leaned across the table.

"Is Sami Noor dead?"

Hadar looked into his eyes. He said nothing. But it was enough.

Derek narrowed his eyes. The answer was there.

Jessica stood up.

"That's enough. Let's mount an operation to locate the body. He gave away more than you know."

11:45 AM – FBI Parking Lot

Angela leaned against the car, exhausted. Derek approached with calm steps.

"We did it."

She nodded.

"But I still want justice for Sami. I want his sister to know."

"She'll know. And she'll know he's not forgotten."

Angela looked at him. Then smiled.

"You weren't just a soldier. You were... a guardian."

Derek thought for a moment.

— "I just learned that sometimes war comes back in another form. But the mission... the mission never changes."

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7-8