Two days later.
Major Najif, the commander of the Suicide Squad at the fireproof factory, had been restless these past few days.
He felt the pressure.
Since Sadam was arrested in Tikrit, he hadn't had a good night's sleep.
As the situation in Mosul gradually became clearer, Najif had made preparations to relocate, and he had already contacted the organization in Rubat to transport the gold to the southern desert.
Regardless, Gaiala was no longer safe.
"Major, it's time for dinner."
A subordinate came and knocked on his office door.
"Alright, I'll be there soon."
He looked at his watch, and it was already six in the evening.
It was getting dark.
As he stepped out of his office, he surveyed his surroundings.
The corners of the factory's walls all had fixed sentries.
His subordinates were all dressed as civilians, but they hid guns under their robes.
His gaze swept over several buildings.
He could vaguely see small rooms on the rooftops, similar to watchtowers.