**40 Minutes Later**
Long Zhan drove back to the DEVGRU headquarters building. Following the instructions he'd received by text, he made his way to the Red Team command center. As he pushed open the door, he saw that the room was already filled with people.
Not only were members of Bravo Team—like Trent and Clay—already present, but a row of broad-shouldered men, all unfamiliar to him, were seated along the wall on sofas and chairs behind the conference table.
Brian was sitting with those men.
Long Zhan didn't recognize any of them, but he knew Brian had recently transferred to Alpha Team. Given that every operational element was composed of two squads, and these men were seated with Brian, their identities were self-evident.
As the squad responsible for flanking support and covering fire, Alpha Team rarely participated in mission planning. At most, they sat in on the meetings and listened. That was why, during the two previous external support mission briefings, Long Zhan hadn't seen anyone from Alpha Team present.
Which meant he wasn't familiar with any of them. He only knew that Alpha Team's leader went by the codename "Full Metal," but he didn't even know what the man looked like.
Now that Alpha Team was attending this meeting, Long Zhan immediately understood: this mission was anything but ordinary.
The men seated along the wall clearly knew of Long Zhan. When he stepped through the door, several of them glanced over at him.
Only Brian raised a hand in greeting; the others remained reserved.
Aside from their intense gazes, they gave away nothing.
Bravo Team members were all seated around the central conference table, occupying the core space of the room—clearly indicating their higher status relative to the Alpha Team personnel.
"Hey, Long, over here."
Clay waved him over, pointing to the empty seat between himself and Brock.
Hearing Clay call out, Long Zhan strode over and took the seat beside him.
Brock, legs crossed casually, tilted his head to look at the newcomer. Upon recognizing him as the newly appointed Bravo-6, he chuckled and asked, "First time in the command center for a mid-squad meeting. How's it feel?"
"Not bad," Long Zhan replied with a raised brow, then casually asked, "There's a lot of people here today—Alpha Team even showed up. You know what's going on?"
"I only just got the notice myself. Don't know much more than you do." Brock spread his hands, helpless.
"Alright then." Long Zhan didn't press further and instead started scanning the room.
Mandy, the intelligence officer for Eric's operational element, was—as usual—in charge of intel for this mission. She sat alone at the front of the table, to the left of the large screen.
When Long Zhan entered, Mandy had given him a smile and a nod in greeting.
The seating around the conference table was clearly organized with care. Bravo Team members sat in a row along the right side. Two seats at the very front were still empty—presumably reserved for the team leader and deputy.
Jason and Ray hadn't arrived yet. Obviously, those two front-row seats were meant for them.
Behind those were Sunny, Trent, Brock, and then Long Zhan, with Clay seated at the very end.
Although Long Zhan held a higher rank than Brock—he could've commanded Brock in a regular unit—here, his seat was placed after Brock's.
Clearly, the seating order followed squad designations.
Bravo Team operators took the right-hand side, while the left side of the table was occupied by Eric, Diaz, and two middle-aged men unfamiliar to Long Zhan.
Eric was the operational commander. Diaz was Bravo Team's logistics NCO.
That meant the men on the left side of the table were all in command or support roles.
Using that detail as a clue, it wasn't hard to infer the identities of the two unfamiliar brutes: they had to be Alpha Team's team leader and deputy.
Special operations soldiers had sharp instincts.
Long Zhan didn't bother to hide his gaze, and soon, Alpha Team's leader and deputy noticed him watching. They both turned their eyes toward him in return.
Neither seemed bothered by his scrutiny. They each gave him a nod as greeting.
Long Zhan smiled and nodded back.
Roughly six or seven minutes later, Jason and Ray—both older and burdened with more family matters these days—entered the room together.
Now that everyone in Eric's element was present, the meeting moved directly into the briefing.
Mandy, in charge of this operation's intel presentation, projected a high-resolution image of a research vessel onto the main display screen at the front of the room.
Pointing to the image, she said, "This is the *R/V Centaur*, a U.S. research vessel currently conducting oxygen-level surveys of marine life in the South China Sea region. We believe it may have been hijacked…"
"Hold on," Jason interrupted her. "You *believe*? What does that mean?"
For counter-terrorism operatives, vague terms like *maybe*, *possibly*, and *could be* were the most unwelcome.
"We don't know the exact situation. So far, we haven't received any follow-up information. That's why we can't determine its precise status," Mandy explained.
"Then how do you know it was hijacked?" Ray asked, equally puzzled.
Mandy didn't answer directly. She picked up a remote and clicked it, playing a pre-recorded audio transmission through the speakers.
"This is Dr. Vincent Barbour. I'm currently aboard the *Centaur*, approximately 160 kilometers off the coast of Iloilo, Philippines.
We… we may be in danger. A group of unidentified individuals has boarded the vessel… No, no—God, no. Please. Don't…
Please, I'm begging you. Stop. What do you want? Who are you—no—!"
The recording abruptly cut off, and what followed was a barrage of gunfire.
Fully automatic weapons, sweeping bursts.
After hearing the *Centaur*'s transmission, everyone in the room understood.
Mandy had said *possibly hijacked* because of that intense gunfire in the recording. This might not have been a hijacking—it could've been a full-on terrorist massacre.
Either way—hijacking or slaughter—it was an act of violent crime.
As the Navy's premier counter-terrorism unit, DEVGRU was the tip of the spear. Since the intel had been routed to Mandy with Red Team, it meant the mission had been assigned to Eric's element.
If it was a hijacking, they were to rescue hostages.
If it was a massacre, they were to bring the perpetrators to justice.
Now that the gravity of the situation was clear, everyone understood what they were dealing with. Mandy brought up a photo of the victims on the screen.
Pointing to a man around forty years old with a short, scruffy beard, she said, "Dr. Vincent Barbour, professor of ocean and climate science at Stanford University. We believe the voice in the recording belongs to him."
Then she pointed to a woman of similar age beside him. "Dr. Julia Clarke, also from Stanford. The two of them were planning to get married next month.
The rest of the individuals are all researchers. They were aboard the same research vessel as Dr. Barbour.
Their personal information has already been uploaded to your workstations. You can also find hard copies in the folders in front of you."