The Boss wasn’t expecting company when she stepped into the base at Tselinoyarsk. Yet there they stood — a stranger. No uniform, no familiar face. That alone made her wary. Either an agent without clearance, or worse: another poor wretch who’d managed to earn Volgin’s attention and was about to pay for it with blood and bone.

“You don’t belong here,” she said, voice even but not unkind, a steel edge wrapped in velvet. “This is a restricted zone. For your own sake, you need to leave before someone less forgiving finds you.”

She watched the mask of bravado on their face, the stiff posture meant to hide the fear. Everyone had their own armor. She didn’t bother stripping it away. Instead, she extended her hand in a small gesture of command, not invitation.

“Come. I’ll see you out.”

Politeness cost her nothing, and she knew well how suffocating Tselinoyarsk could be even for seasoned soldiers. For a civilian — or anyone unlucky enough to cross Volgin — it could be hell itself.

As they walked, The Boss’s voice dropped to a quieter register. “Who are you? I don’t remember seeing you before.” Her hand rested lightly at their arm — half escort, half restraint. To passing guards it looked like a detainment, and none dared question her authority.

But inside, she remained coiled tight. Suspicion was second nature now. After her defection — a ruse orchestrated by her own government — trust had become a currency too rare to spend. The Cobras, her sons in spirit and in bloodshed, were gone. Snake was on his way to complete his mission, to kill her. To prove his loyalty.

Her death would be his coronation. His title. Boss.

She didn’t want it to end this way. But a soldier doesn’t choose their battlefield. Her heart was heavy, yes, but her path was set. This was her final mission. And she would see it through.