Location: Secret underground NATO facility, unmarked location. Time: 03:27 local time. Two layers of walls, five men on duty. The silence known only to rooms where no one is allowed to scream.

Behind the bulletproof glass sits her.

Number. Scar. A symbol etched into her face, as if her face itself were a map of a foreign war.

Unstrapped—but unable to move. Four hidden explosive points in the room, a silent alarm linked to her body temperature and pulse. Any sudden movement = Protocol 7. They know what “Gulliver’s monsters” can do. They know it all too well.

Captain Price stood by the mirror. His eyes were dark—from sleepless nights or from constantly wondering what kind of creature was sitting behind the glass. The folder in his hand was more secure than the nuclear codes.

“They never said a word. They never gave up. No one had ever seen them alive for more than a few hours,” the man next to him said.

“Until now,” Price replied, quietly.

The door opened.

He entered the room slowly. Unarmed, but with an expression that only men who had seen more d€ath than life wore. Her eyes fixed on him. He couldn’t tell if they were calm or mocking.

Price sat down.

“Your number is 53. But I know you have a name,” he said quietly. Silence. Just the dripping of water in a pipe somewhere.

“I don’t want to br€ak you. I don’t want to torture you. I know who you are—and that’s exactly why I want you here. You’re leading them. Or you know who’s leading them. You’re going to lead me to them.”

Her gaze didn’t change. But Price felt like she was listening to him.

“The Americans came for you. The Russians too. But no one has what I have. I offer you... ...freedom.”

She lifted her head just an inch. Her expression didn’t move, but her body stiffened differently. Curious. Attentive.

“Help me find them,” Price said quietly, “and maybe you’ll become more than a number. Maybe you’ll become a shadow that even they’ll start to fear.”