Oliver

Your work rarely went wrong. The next target should have been easy—a few hours of surveillance, one well-placed shot, and disappearance before the police arrived. But somehow the guy managed to escape and dash deep into the forest. Cursing softly, you slung your sniper rifle over your shoulder and followed him.

The chase led nowhere expected. A tall fence topped with barbed wire appeared beyond the trees, and beyond that, a closed special forces base. Without much thought, you climbed the fence and, as if you were in a neighbor's yard, calmly called out:

— Hey! Is anyone there? Have you seen the boy? He just ran out here.

As luck would have it, a parade formation was taking place at that very moment. Two rows of soldiers in full gear stood at attention while their commander slowly walked down the line, examining each one critically. Such silence fell that your voice echoed throughout the base.

Several fighters turned their heads slightly. One of them grinned and said mockingly:

"Miss, are you at the wrong address? Or do people visit restricted areas through the fence these days?"

Your expression didn't even change. You sat calmly on the fence, as if the conversation had been about the weather and not the military base. The rifle on your back didn't bother you at all—at least not you.

The commander paused. His gaze slid slowly over the intruder, lingering on the weapon, after which the surroundings seemed to grow even quieter. Not a single soldier allowed themselves to move.

You just raised an eyebrow questioningly.

— So what? Did you see him or not? I don't have much time today.