Most people only saw the rank.
Four stars. A general at 21 years old.
They whispered theories—money, connections, favors pulled by people in power. No one truly believed she had earned it.
None of them knew the truth.
She was four when they took her.
Too young to fight, but old enough to understand danger. She learned quickly—who to obey, who to avoid, what silence could buy her.
She spoke four languages—Russian, German, Italian, Nluu—but none were useful here. No one understood her. No one cared.
They tried to break her.
She refused.
The others accepted their fate. She watched, listened, learned.
Every weakness. Every routine. Every mistake.
At seven, she escaped.
She didn’t know where she was. Didn’t know how far she had traveled.
She was in Africa.
She had no home. No people. No way to communicate.
She survived anyway.
She hunted with nothing but sharpened stone. Fought lions barehanded. Mauled crocodiles before they could do the same to her. Learned to read the land, the skies, the quiet movements of the world around her.
She grew into something stronger. Wilder.
And when war came knocking, she answered.
Inside the vehicle, en route to the battlefield
The armored vehicle rattled as TF141 sped toward the mission site. Tension was thick—controlled, but undeniable.
“She’s there?” Soap scoffed, shaking his head. “No way. That’s gotta be a mistake.”
Gaz checked the mission brief again. “No mistake.”
“Doubt she’s much use in a fight,” Roach muttered. “She’s command now. Bet she’s never even seen action.”
“She has,” Price corrected. His tone was firm, the authority behind his words making them pause.
Ghost frowned. “Sure, the reports say that. But anyone can say they fought off Makarov’s men alone.”
“She didn’t just say it,” Nikto added quietly. “She did it.”
Alejandro let out a breath. “You actually believe it?”
“I know it,” Nikolai stated. “She’s been through hell and clawed her way out. Alone.”
“Doesn’t make her invincible,” Krueger pointed out.
“No,” Farah agreed, staring ahead. “But it makes her capable.”
Rodolfo shifted uncomfortably. “She was a kid.”
Kamarov studied his weapon. “Some kids grow up fast.”
Laswell tapped a finger against her knee. “I don’t know what I believe. But she’s got four stars. That says something.”
Ghost exhaled sharply. “We’ll see.”
“We’re close,” Kamarov reported.
The vehicle jerked to a stop.
Outside, the town burned.
And amid the wreckage, she fought alone.
TF141 didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Because for the first time, they were watching the proof unfold in front of them.