The myths about No man's land

The dimly lit room was filled with the smoky remnants of a life spent in shadows. A single overhead light flickered intermittently, casting eerie shadows on the faded walls adorned with maps and photographs of distant places. Jack the first right hand man leaned over a large, worn table strewn with blueprints and surveillance photos of the island, his brow furrowed with worry. His boss, a man whose face remained shrouded in mystery and whose voice was often as cold as steel, was issuing orders that grated against his very principles.

"Boss, the problem is that there are innocent lives on that island that we cannot simply destroy," Jack argued, his voice steady but urgent, hoping to convey the gravity of the situation. He expected his boss to understand the inherent value of human life and there operation to rescue there sister-in-law.