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Chapter 638: The Butcher’s Wrath
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... nd sluggish in the mid-afternoon heat.
Inside the fortified American consulate building, high above the street-level din, four men sat in a long, wood-paneled conference room, ceiling fans clattering overhead.
Colonel Frank Holloway of the OSS thumbed through a series of coded dispatches.
His uniform was loose, fraying, and stained with a week’s worth of West African dust.
But his eyes were sharp, too sharp for a man in a supposedly "civilian advisory" role.
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