Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 994

This was a state-sanctioned black op by Mavaria to rescue their kidnapped citizens. The stakes were astronomical, and their manpower was stretched dangerously thin.

Although the government had heavily funded the mission, Mira had personally wired over millions of dollars into Dominic West's accounts. The extra cash was specifically meant to upgrade the team's tactical loadouts and ensure that none of the operatives had to sleep in slums or skip meals while operating in hostile territory.

She just wanted to bring as many of them home alive as possible.

Once they crossed the border, the cover group drove straight into the heart of Kalon Province.

Lush, emerald mountains and crystal-clear rivers framed the landscape, making it a wildly popular tourist destination. But beneath the breathtaking scenery lay the dark reality of the Tri-Border Badlands—one of the most lawless, violent regions on the planet.

That night, tucked away in her hotel room, Mira was greeted by a familiar face.

"Dominic? What are you doing here?"

Mira was genuinely stunned. Dominic West was the Federal Commissioner; a man with his security clearance stepping onto foreign soil was a geopolitical nightmare waiting to happen.

"If a young woman like you can throw herself into the fire, why can't I? Besides, I can still outshoot you," Dominic chuckled.

Naturally, he was dressed in rugged civilian clothes, having slipped in with one of the other tour buses.

"Mira, between the massive check you cut for this op and your willingness to put boots on the ground to save our people, if we pull this off, you'll be getting the highest commendation the state can offer."

Dominic smiled warmly at her. In that moment, he wasn't just her friend; he was speaking as the voice of Mavaria and the Procurement Board, honoring her sacrifice.

"I don't care about medals," she brushed off the praise. "I just hope the money actually helps."

"It helps more than you know. Red tape and tight budgets get operators killed.

But enough about that. We all know why we're here."

Dominic unrolled a massive topographic map across the table. "To the east, we have The Sterling Highlands. To the west, The Arcan Ridge, towering over ten thousand feet high. And to the north, it bleeds right into our very own Divide Range."

"The local warlords control the outermost territories, hiding deep in the mountains where the brutal terrain makes mechanized assaults impossible."

But if a threat is imminent and you don't have time to call it in, you have a green light to execute. No hesitation."

Hesitation meant coming home in a body bag.

"In fact, it's highly likely that the local spotters have already painted our tour groups as fat, wealthy targets..."

Dominic then pulled open a duffel bag, issuing out compact sidearms and loaded magazines to the squad.

At the very least, Kalon Province was deeply intertwined with Mavarian culture—they spoke the language, used the currency, and even their cartels operated with corporate structures mirroring their northern neighbor.

But the reality of the geopolitical rot here was slightly different than Mira had assumed. The endless bloodshed and depravity wasn't strictly the fault of a corrupt government.

It was a total collapse of authority. The official state government was castrated, leaving the entire power vacuum to be filled by ultra-violent cartels and heavily armed warlords.

Following Dominic's orders, Mira caught a few hours of sleep to reset her adrenaline. By morning, she would hit the streets under the guise of an oblivious tourist, secretly mapping the kill zones.