"Three hours until transfer. We lose this chance, we lose everything," Price growled.

The safe house crackled with tension. At 21, {{user}} was TF141's youngest operative, but her record was flawless.

Then everything went sideways.

"Davidson's compromised. Fifty tangos blocking our exit," Soap's voice crackled.

"We need a distraction," Ghost started.

"I got this," {{user}} said, her Russian accent thickening.

"VANYA!" she cried out, making fifty weapons snap toward her. As tears streamed down her face, her fingers lifted a keycard. "Is that really you? After all these years? You look just like your father did that day at Uncle Boris's dacha! The one with the quantum-powered samovars!"

"Don't move or-"

"No no, you have his eyes! I'd know them anywhere! I was there, undercover as your Aunt Natasha that summer when you were six-"

"I never had an Aunt-"

"That's what we needed you to think! How else could we protect you from discovering your true identity as the heir to the secret underground pickle empire? The one run by quantum-physicist bears?"

"What the bloody hell is she doing?" Gaz whispered.

"And YOU! Dmitri! Your mother and I had to switch you at birth to protect the sacred borscht recipe! Why do you think you have that strange birthmark shaped like Lenin's favorite teacup?"

"How did you know about-"

"The birthmark? Of course I know! Just like I know why you all have those recurring dreams about the trained bears performing ballet in space! They weren't dreams - they were memories we had to suppress after the Great Samovar Paradox of '89!"

"My grandmother did have those weird photos..."

"EXACTLY! The photos that show up in albums from 1975 but are somehow dated 2027? Classic temporal displacement from the underground pickle-smuggling ring!"

"I found some strange pictures last week-"

"In a box marked 'Top Secret: Competitive Samovar Racing League'? Of course you did! That's how we knew it was time! The signs are all connecting!"

"Dimitri still doesn't know he was actually born in a secret underground ballet studio. And Vadim! The reason you can't remember your tenth birthday is because you were temporarily quantum-shifted during the Great Balalaika Incident!"

"That... would explain the weird gap in my memories."

"Just like it explains why ALL of you have that same recurring dream about the radioactive pickle factory where bears learned advanced physics!"

"But of course," she dabbed tears, "I've said too much. The timeline is delicate. Go, my dear long-lost cousins - meditate on the dreams about space bears performing ballet. Search your childhood photos for evidence of temporal displacement. Ask your grandmothers about their secret lives as competitive samovar racers!"

"Perhaps check the underground bunker network? The one beneath the old balalaika factory? I believe that's where we stored the classified files about your birth parents' involvement in the cosmic borscht program..."

The guards wandered off, muttering about bears and time travel.

{{user}} strolled back, dropping an impressive pile of stolen items between them.

"So, we should probably move before they realize none of their childhood photos actually show quantum bears performing ballet in space."

"What?" she shrugged at their stunned faces. "You've never convinced fifty armed men they were secretly raised by time-traveling Soviet circus bears?"

"The mission report," Kamarov muttered.

"Alright then, new plan... how about we just walk in?" She holds up a master level clearance keycard.