Anya sat in the dimly lit basement, her fingers tracing the creases of the worn map spread across the table. The cold seeped through the stone walls, but she barely felt it. Her mind was elsewhere—on the news she had just received. The arrival of the high-ranking officer wasn't just a rumor anymore. He was here.
Her radio crackled to life, the sudden burst of static breaking the heavy silence.
"This is Echo-3. Do you copy?"
She straightened immediately, her hand steady as she reached for the receiver. The voice on the other end was sharp, familiar—a tether to the world she had been navigating for far too long.
"Copy, Echo-1," she replied, keeping her tone neutral. "I have the intel."
"The officer has arrived. He's in the camp now. Your mission remains the same—observe. If he poses a threat, eliminate him. We can't risk him compromising the operation."
Anya inhaled slowly, already running through possible scenarios. Observation was simple enough. The other part of the order? Less so. Killing an officer, especially one with a reputation like his, would change everything.
"Understood, Echo-1. I'll report once I have confirmation on his movements."
The radio fell silent. Anya set it aside, fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. She had spent years mastering the art of patience, but tonight, it felt different. The pieces were shifting. The air itself felt charged, as if the village was holding its breath.
---
At the Military Camp...
Damian stood near the perimeter, watching as the convoy approached through the snow-covered road. The rumble of engines cut through the cold evening air, sending a ripple of movement through the camp. Soldiers hurried to their positions, their posture straightening, their movements sharper.
He had seen this kind of tension before—when men knew someone powerful was coming.
Colonel Ivanov appeared at his side, his expression as rigid as ever. "The officer expects a full report within the hour," he said without preamble. His gaze flicked to the approaching vehicles, his voice lowering slightly. "Stay sharp, Graves. We don't know exactly what his agenda is, but men like him? They don't come to watch."
Damian gave a curt nod. He didn't need the warning. He already knew.
As the first vehicle rolled to a stop, the weight of the moment settled over him. He had no name for the officer yet, no face only a reputation that sent whispers through the ranks.
Whoever this man was, he wasn't here to maintain the status quo.
---
Back in the Village...
Anya leaned back in her chair, the dim glow of the lantern casting shadows across the maps and reports. The officer was in the camp. That meant the clock had officially started.
She closed her notebook, pushing it aside as she listened to the faint hum of the radio. The village remained quiet above her, but she knew better. Change had a way of creeping in unnoticed—until it was too late.
She exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air.
The storm was coming. And she would be ready.