Page 5 of Devlin

“Margarethe specifically requested someone outside the WFP,” Logan said. “She knows what we do here and trusts this team to handle whatever comes up. She got permission from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Uganda is one of the most welcoming nations for refugees, but there are still risks. Margarethe wants someone to protect the whistleblower while you assist in investigating the thefts.”

A silence fell over the room, the weight of the mission settling in. Devlin’s mind churned as he considered the implications—not just the logistics of the task but the people it would impact. He didn’t know what it was about this mission that tugged at him so fiercely, but he felt it, profound and undeniable.

Logan’s sharp gaze settled on Devlin. “I thought of you first. Don’t take offense, but with the deals you’ve made in the past, I know you’ve got the skills to dig into what might be happening.”

Devlin chuckled, a wry grin tugging at his lips. “No offense taken. Bartering was always about getting what someone needed and never stealing. Dealmaking, if you want to call it that. But stealing from people desperate for food and possibly selling it on the black market? That’s a whole different level of fucked up, and it needs to stop.”

Logan nodded, his attention shifting across the room before landing on Cole. “I want you on this team. You will all fly military transport to Germany and then board a UN flight to Uganda, carrying food supplies.”

Cole gave a quick dip of his head, his signature grin flashing as he turned to Devlin. “Got your back, man.”

Logan’s steady voice continued. “Todd, I’d like you to go as well.”

Todd leaned over the table, his fist bumping Cole’s and Devlin’s with a grin. “You got it, boss.”

“What kind of intel do I need to start pulling?” Sadie’s voice cut through the room, her hands poised over her keyboard.

“Start with everything you can find on the World Food Program and Bidi Bidi in Uganda. Margarethe mentioned she’d send a map, but don’t expect it to match anything official. The camp layout constantly shifts—new refugees come in, some leave, and the buildings serve multiple purposes. If they're overwhelmed, a classroom might double as a housing unit for new arrivals or as a temporary medical ward.”

Logan’s orders disbanded the meeting, and the team scattered to their respective tasks. Devlin stayed behind, grabbing the mission file Logan had handed him and heading to one of the smaller tables. Todd and Cole followed, their expressions solemn as they settled into seats nearby. At her workstation, Sadie was already deep into research, screens glowing with data.

Devlin flipped through the file, then looked at what Sadie was sending to their tablets. His brow furrowed in concentration. “The camp is a coordinated effort involving several organizations,” he said, scanning the pages. “The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees is the primary agency overseeing coordination and protection. The Red Cross is responsible for health, shelter, and emergency response. The WHO handles health interventions and disease prevention, and the WFP focuses on food security and nutrition programs. Then there are groups like Save the Children, Care International, and even the Peace Corps, all managing specific sectors.”

Todd whistled low as he skimmed the data Sadie had uploaded to their tablets. “That’s a hell of an operation. It’s amazing they can all work together. But with so many players, it’s no surprise that the WFP makes for a solid cover.”

Devlin nodded, tapping a finger against the table. “Exactly. According to Margarethe’s intel, the food security officer noticed enough inconsistencies to start digging. Evidence found made them feel justified in notifying someone they trusted—someone higher up in their organization, not necessarily someone at the camp.”

Cole leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Smart move. If the thefts are systematic, someone in the camp may be in on it. Going to someone outside the immediate chain of command was the safest option.”

Devlin glanced up as a familiar presence approached. Mary rolled toward the table with her usual confident ease. Grinning, he tipped his head in her direction. “Let me guess—you’ve already got our itinerary worked out.”

Mary smirked, holding up a folder as if it were a trophy. “You know it, big guy. Flights, logistics, and a whole lot of headaches, all wrapped up with a bow. Welcome to your next mission.”

She nodded to the files she laid on the table. “The full itinerary is already on your phones. You’re wheels up from Malmstrom Air Force Base tomorrow. Tonight, you head there together in one vehicle. Logan wants you to keep reviewing on the way. You’ll have accommodations at the base, then fly out on military transport to Germany. From there, you’ll fly private with Ms. Gunther to Uganda. You’ll be able to take your equipment and weapons.”

Todd raised a brow, his grin teasing. “Do I even want to know how long it will take us to get to Uganda?”

Mary met his grin with one of her own, leaning in conspiratorially. “I suggest you load your tablet with some good reads and have a killer playlist ready. Between flights, layovers, and logistics, you’re looking at close to twenty-four hours.” With a knowing smirk, she dipped her head and rolled out of the room, leaving the team feeling a mix of anticipation and tension.

Moments later, Bert strode into the room. “Once you’ve gone through the intel, meet me in the equipment room. We’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

Devlin, Cole, and Todd returned their focus to the files spread before them, diving into the detailed breakdown of the refugee camp’s layout, operations, and the WFP’s role within it. If they were going to blend in seamlessly with Margarethe, they needed to understand every layer of the camp’s ecosystem.

“And the whistleblower?” Devlin asked, his gaze still fixed on the information as he sifted through the details.

Sadie looked up from her station, her fingers flying across her keyboard. “You’ll meet them once you’re on the ground and at the camp.”

“So we’re going in as security?” Cole inquired.

Sadie nodded, her tone brisk. “You’ll be introduced as a security detail working with Margarethe Gunther on oversight of food management for the UNHCR.” She glanced down, then added, “That’s the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.”

The Keepers spent hours dissecting every detail, building a mental map of the camp’s dynamics, and preparing for what they might encounter.

“Food is sourced locally or internationally,” Devlin noted, scanning the logistics breakdown. “It depends on cost, availability, and transport logistics. In Uganda, most food is moved by truck once it lands at the airport.”

“And there’s more than one refugee camp,” Cole added, studying his tablet. “Someone from the WFP coordinates the shipments at the airport, but it’s clear our whistleblower only started seeing the thefts on their end.”

“So the food is making it to Bidi Bidi,” Todd clarified, leaning forward. “And then it’s being stolen. Why not divert it earlier, straight from the source?”

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