American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 56
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Medvedeva tapped twice on the door of the Special Operations Director's office with her knuckles, but the heavy solid wood door remained unmoved, and there was no response from inside.

She tapped it again with more force, her knuckles throbbing slightly.

"The head of management is in the conference room," a colleague whispered, gesturing towards the end of the corridor. "The entire leadership is discussing Bianca's team."

Medvedeva nodded her thanks and quickly walked with her assistant toward the conference room at the end of the room.

Through the open blinds, the somber scene inside was clearly visible. The projection screen was playing a loop of photos from the Bianca team's attack site, while the files of the casualties were displayed on a split screen on the other side.

The oval conference table was filled with high-ranking officers from the Special Operations Unit and MI6, each with a thick file spread out in front of them.

The operations director stood before the projector, the red dot of a laser pointer tracing a glaring path across the bloody scene photographs. His voice, faintly heard through the crack in the door, said, "Based on the ballistic analysis at the scene, the enemy was clearly prepared."

Without hesitation, Medvedeva knocked twice on the glass door of the conference room, and then pushed the door open and entered amidst the surprised gazes of everyone.

Inside the conference room, dozens of eyes turned to her, some with surprise, some with curiosity, and some with indifference.

The operations manager put down his laser pointer, his brow furrowed. "Team Leader Meva Lake, what urgent matter do you have?"

Medvedeva stood in the doorway, reaching out to stop her deputy from following her in. She silenced him with a glance, pushed him out, and then closed the glass door behind her.

The door lock clicked softly, separating the inside from the outside into two worlds.

She turned to face the room full of high-ranking officials, her expression calm and composed: "Gentlemen, I have just obtained the latest intelligence regarding the Downing Street assassination."

Her voice was calm and measured: "Given the case's top priority, I immediately sought to report to my supervisor after receiving the intelligence, only to find everyone in a meeting."

Medvedeva took the USB drive from her suit's inner pocket; its metallic surface gleamed under the conference room lights. "Given the sensitive and time-sensitive nature of this intelligence, I must take the liberty of interrupting this meeting."

The operations director slammed his fist on the table: "Meva Lake! Any intelligence can wait until after the meeting—"

“Let her finish.” A silver-haired official sitting at the head of the table raised his hand to stop her, his gaze fixed on the USB drive in Medvedeva’s hand: “You’re saying this intelligence can advance the Downing Street case? How important is it?”

“A top-secret list from a high-ranking official in London.” She deliberately emphasized the words “high-ranking official.”

The atmosphere inside the meeting room changed.

Although everyone present was a seasoned veteran of the officialdom, they were able to conceal their expressions and demeanor very well.

But Medvedeva, the top agent trained at Ford Moncton College, still managed to glean a wealth of information from their rapidly changing micro-expressions: some showed curiosity; some suppressed anger; and others revealed their inner unease.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was tense and confrontational.

A senior official slammed his fist on the table: "We're discussing the heavy casualties among our personnel! Not some damn Downing Street case!"

He pointed to the door and said sternly, "You, get out now! Wait until the meeting is over—"

"Absurd!" another R-level intelligence officer interrupted immediately. "Everyone here is at least a P5 level decision-maker or an R-level intelligence officer. Who doesn't have the authority to view this intelligence? Team Leader Lake, immediately connect the USB drive to the system!"

"The casualty report is the top priority! Now is not the time to discuss the Downing Street case." An opposing official slammed his fist on the conference table. Medvedeva stood still, coldly observing this high-level melee. Her gaze briefly met that of the head of operations, who gave a barely perceptible nod, his eyes clearly pointing to the computer connected to the projector.

Medvedeva strode toward the control panel and, amidst the commotion, inserted the USB drive into the port.

With a beep from the system, the projection screen switched, and Doyle's document appeared. Now, this information was under the watchful eyes of more than a dozen top officials; no one could let her bear the weight of this secret alone anymore.

The projection screen lit up, and a densely packed table of contents slowly unfolded. The table of contents far exceeded the display area of ​​a single page, and the scroll bar on the right shrank to a thin line, indicating the sheer size of the document's contents.

It has 125 pages in total.

Once the first page of content was fully displayed, the meeting room fell silent.

The table of contents lists:

Adams Gerrard - (P12 level)
Page: Page 1

Note: Initial planning for the Downing Street assassination.

Gain Miller - (R8 level)
Page: Page 25

Note: Timeline of the assassination operation
Nehemiah Adams - Chairman of the Security Committee

Page: Page 33

Note: Hiring funds to raise funds for Operation "β".

Nearly half of the high-ranking officials present had their names listed on the first page. Under the beam of light from the projection screen, the air in the conference room seemed to freeze.

The eyes of the high-ranking officials whose names were on the list flickered between panic and ruthlessness. The once unified high-level leadership was now clearly divided into two camps—those on the list and those not on the list.

The operations director snatched the mouse from Medusa's hand and precisely clicked on the "Gain Miller" entry on page 25.

The screen is divided into multiple windows: the left side shows the chat history of the communication software, the right side plays a secretly filmed video, and the bottom shows an audio waveform graph jumping around.

As the familiar voice in the recording uttered, "Downing Street journalists must be dealt with publicly," as Miller's image became clearly visible on screen, and as the blatant words in the chat logs scrolled by, any defense became futile. The overwhelming chain of evidence flipped across the projection screen, confirming the crimes of this high-ranking Home Office official.

The only sound in the conference room was heavy breathing. Some people began to secretly wipe the cold sweat from their foreheads, while others clenched their fists tightly.

The conference room door suddenly clicked softly. Everyone turned around at the same time. Richard Moore, the director of MI6, stood in the doorway, followed by a dozen or so agents from the Operations Division.

The director, known for his iron fist, did not speak immediately. His gaze slowly swept over everyone in the conference room, finally settling on the list on the projection screen, and a suffocating sense of oppression filled the air.

Director Moore strode into the conference room and walked straight to the chairman's seat, which was furthest from the projection screen, before slowly taking his seat.

Meanwhile, agents from the operations department filed in and lined up along both walls of the conference room. No one spoke. Only the hum of the projector fan echoed in the room.

Director Moore spoke slowly, his aged, steady voice carrying the authority accumulated over the years: "Keep turning the pages. Let me see just how rotten British intelligence has become."

(End of this chapter)