American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 76 Struggle
The Louvre Museum, France.

Medvedeva led her group through the Tuileries Gardens, the marble columns casting shadows in the morning light. At the entrance, she opened the dark blue cover of her diplomatic passport, and the accompanying French security agent dutifully presented her identification. The guards gave it only a cursory glance before waving them through, and the group of Englishmen entered this temple of art with an air of nonchalance.

This French colleague didn't seem like an important figure at all.

Her light brown hair was neatly styled in a bun, her uniform was perfectly pressed without a wrinkle, and her every move exuded the tension typical of a newcomer. When Medvedeva's gaze swept over her, she would even unconsciously adjust her posture. She was probably an insignificant newcomer within the security agency, perhaps even just a peripheral figure temporarily assigned to handle errands.

This woman was either a fresh-faced newbie or a seasoned veteran sent by the French. But whether it was the newbie's honesty or the veteran's pretense, it didn't matter to Medvedeva, because she was genuinely here on vacation.

Medvedeva led her team through the exhibition halls of the Louvre.

French security services clearly had no intention of involving their British counterparts in the investigation. For the past few days, as long as they didn't actively interfere in the case, the French female detective acted like a silent shadow, following them around Paris without uttering a word.

They walked up the steps of the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and Medvedeva paused before "Liberty Leading the People." In the painting, the Statue of Liberty, holding the tricolor flag, was stepping over a barricade, while in the glass reflection, the French female detective stood three steps away, her silhouette barely visible.

The team members had completely immersed themselves in the relaxed atmosphere of France, no longer as tense as they had been upon arrival. They were taking photos everywhere with their phones, looking just as relaxed as the other visitors in the museum, treating this field trip as a normal vacation.

Medvedeva's gaze swept over her relaxed subordinates, but her thoughts returned to the photograph of Alexander Dugan. She silently considered how to report this information.

Medvedeva was able to recognize Alexander Dugan at a glance because of her combat experience during her military service.

This is a required course for MI6 agents. Only agents who have truly experienced gunfire and taking lives can adapt to that dual pressure, both physically and psychologically, and learn to properly handle the resulting emotional fluctuations.

At that time, she and Alexander Dugan were assigned to the same action team. In this shadow unit under the military, there were no names, no ranks, no pasts; each member had only a code name.

Medvedeva has worked with this team on two missions.

The first was the hostage "clearance" operation.

Yes, it's about clearing out, not rescuing. Rather than bearing the high costs and risks of rescuing hostages, superiors prefer to use shadow forces to eliminate both the hostages and the terrorists, then publicly claim that the terrorists killed the hostages. Afterwards, they either wage a propaganda war from afar or send fighter jets to drop a few aerial bombs to level the scene, and the whole matter is considered closed.

The second was the arrest operation.

To clean up the mess from the previous hostage "clearance" operation and to give the parachuted officers credit, the higher-ups specifically requested the head of a certain minor leader. During this operation, Medvedeva witnessed firsthand Alexander Dugan's impressive sniping skills. At a distance of 877 meters, using the intricate local architecture as cover, he and his assistant gunner blocked all enemy heavy fire positions, providing cover for the entire squad's safe withdrawal.

In this shadow unit, everyone's code name has a profound meaning.

Medvedeva was jokingly called "Mushroom" by the male soldiers. This somewhat mocking nickname was both a good-natured jab at her female identity and a subtle indication of the disdain for women in the unit.

Alexander Dugan, who was always taciturn and a loner, was given a fitting nickname: "The Jackal." This solitary and ferocious carnivore perfectly embodied his incompatible yet indispensable qualities within the team.

The assassin who successfully killed the German presidential candidate also used the codename "Jackal." A long-range sniper shot from 3800 meters away, military-specific behavioral patterns, and an identical codename—these clues gave Medvedeva at least an 80% chance of confirming that this "Jackal" was Alexander Dugan from her memory.

Now, Medvedeva has photos of Alexander Duggan and her military service record to corroborate this. Under the current political pressure on Downing Street to quickly resolve the "shooting incident," simply reporting the "jackal" as "β" would immediately trigger a global manhunt, which would be enough to satisfy both Downing Street and Buckingham Palace.

But Medvedeva's considerations go far beyond that.

She was considering three key points: the timing of the report, the method of reporting, and how to ensure that the credit would be entirely attributed to her. After all, Bianca's team was still tracking down the "jackal." If they beat her to it, even just by claiming "participation in the investigation," they could claim the lion's share of the credit.

What makes things even more complicated is that Bianca and Medvedeva belong to different factions. This seemingly simple manhunt is actually rife with undercurrents of factional power struggles.

Medvedeva must ensure that every action she takes adds weight to her position on the political scales.

MI6 is undergoing a complete political reshuffle, and as the supervisor said, Medvedeva has virtually no choice.

From the moment she stepped into MI6, she was firmly labeled a conservative. Whether it was her long service under her superior or her "achievement" of obtaining the USB list from Doyle, it all made her a conservative figure in the eyes of others.

Even if she genuinely wanted to do something for the reformers, it would only arouse their suspicion that she had "ulterior motives."

In this inevitable political vortex, the only thing Medvedeva can do is to accumulate as many bargaining chips as possible for herself.

She needs to strive for a higher position or a more important role within the conservatives, not out of ambition, but out of necessity for survival.

Like a can of restless sardines, when all the fish are frantically churning, if you don't want to be squeezed to the bottom and rot, you have to go with the flow and dance with the school. This game has nothing to do with personal will; Medvedeva has already been swept up in it, and there is no way out but to strive upwards.

Medvedeva knew she could never truly leave.

Whenever this thought flashes through my mind, the price I paid for this position comes rushing back like a tide—family, love, blood, sweat, and painful memories that I dare not easily touch.

These sunk costs acted like chains, binding her firmly to this position. She couldn't convince herself to turn away gracefully, much less relinquish the team leader position she had earned with half a lifetime of effort.

This position is no longer just a job; it is proof of her entire life's value and the sole meaning of those sacrifices.

(End of this chapter)