Chapter 1 – Oksana

 

Tatiana stood by the door in the dimly lit passage, her posture straight, head slightly tilted as if listening to the heartbeat of the building. Her black fitted pants and white shirt hugged her athletic frame, the black blazer giving her the sharp silhouette of someone who belonged in command. Her hair, pushed back by a dark band, framed her strong, focused face; the soft sheen of her skin contrasted with the cold steel in her dark eyes.

Alex approached, his polished shoes clicking against the marble.

“They’ve completed the final sweep. The audience is seated,” he said, his voice low but urgent.

Tatiana gave a curt nod. “Good. Take your position.”

As Alex left, Tatiana turned and entered the room behind her.

---

Oksana was sitting on the couch, her hands clasped loosely in her lap, fingers twitching like they were debating whether to grip tighter. Her head hung slightly forward, her jaw set, lips pressed together. Her eyes stared at the floor but didn’t see it—her mind was elsewhere, rehearsing words that couldn’t be unsaid.

“Madam,” Tatiana said gently, “you can come whenever you’re ready.”

Oksana looked up, blinking as if pulled from a storm of thoughts. Her eyes, sharp but weighed down, flicked toward Tatiana.

“Is it… packed?” she asked, almost to herself.

“Yes,” Tatiana replied, sitting beside her. “They’re waiting.”

Oksana bit her lower lip—a habit Tatiana had learned meant she was bracing herself.

Tatiana took her hand. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this.”

Oksana’s mouth curved into a brief, crooked smile. “The strongest? You clearly haven’t met yourself.”

Tatiana squeezed her hand. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

Tatiana rose first, gently pulling Oksana to her feet. Her hand stayed wrapped around Oksana’s, firm and steady, as if transferring her own strength through that grip.

But Oksana didn’t move. She stopped, making Tatiana turn back to face her.

Oksana looked up at her—she had to tilt her chin slightly; Tatiana stood taller, her presence almost protective by nature. There was something in Oksana’s eyes, not fear exactly, but that quiet, wavering uncertainty of someone about to take a step that could change everything.

“You know…” Oksana’s voice was low, almost hesitant, “you’re not just my PPO. You’re the biggest strength of my political career.”

Tatiana’s lips curved faintly, but her eyes stayed serious. “You were already a big politician when you hired me.”

“But not a good politician,” Oksana said, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small, sad smile.

Tatiana shook her head slightly. “You were always a good person. That’s what mattered. Now… now you’re even a good politician.”

Oksana’s expression softened, her eyes lingering on Tatiana’s face. “You made me that.”

For a long second, they just stood there, looking at each other. The air between them carried more than words—years of trust, late-night conversations, quiet support through storms the public never saw.

Tatiana didn’t speak; she simply stepped closer and pulled Oksana into a warm embrace. Oksana let herself sink into it, the last bit of tension melting from her shoulders. Tatiana lowered her head, her lips brushing Oksana’s forehead in a soft, reassuring kiss.

When they separated, Oksana’s face had changed—still serious, but now there was a calm determination in her eyes.

“Now I’m ready,” she said.

Tatiana gave a slight nod. “Good.”

As Tatiana turned toward the door, “Lead the way, Valkyrie,” Oksana said with a small grin.

Tatiana glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow with a hint of amusement, “Do you even know what a Valkyrie is?”

“Some kind of warrior, isn’t she?” Oksana replied lightly, as if it didn’t matter.

But Tatiana’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. She didn’t correct her—at least not out loud.

A Valkyrie isn’t just a warrior, Tatiana thought grimly as she turned back to the door. In Norse mythology, Valkyries carry the fallen heroes to Odin, their god.

The word settled in her mind like a weight. She didn’t want to be a Valkyrie. She wasn’t here to carry Oksana to any gods. Her job was to keep her alive—even if it cost Tatiana her own life.

Her jaw tightened as she opened the door, leading Oksana out. A strange chill crept down her spine, as if the universe itself had whispered a warning through Oksana’s careless joke.

But she pushed the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time for superstition. She straightened her back, scanning the corridor ahead. Every step would matter from this point on.

Tatiana pushed the thought of Valkyries to the back of her mind, but it stayed there like a shadow. Her shoulders squared, her stride firm as she led Oksana through the corridor.

Every step was measured, every glance precise. Her dark eyes flicked across corners, scanning for anything out of place—loose wires, shifted chairs, faces that didn’t belong.

Through her earpiece, her voice was calm but authoritative. “Tatiana to all units—Madam is on the way to the stage. Check positions. Report.”

A series of affirmations followed, one after another. Her men knew better than to sound casual around her; every “Clear,” every “All good” came sharp and disciplined.

As they approached the stage entrance door, Tatiana slowed, glancing toward the guards stationed there. These were her best people—personally selected and trained. They nodded to her with crisp professionalism, their posture straightening instinctively as she passed.

She returned the nod, but her gaze lingered on each of them for a heartbeat, assessing, weighing. Not one of them dared meet her eyes for long; not out of fear, but respect.

Oksana stayed quiet behind her, watching her move with that same composed authority. There was a certain magnetism in the way Tatiana carried herself—a woman entirely in control, the kind of strength Oksana both relied on and… couldn’t help but admire.

Tatiana turned slightly toward her. “Wait here, Madam,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Oksana gave a small nod, though her eyes lingered on Tatiana as she stepped away.

Tatiana moved onto the stage alone, her footsteps silent on the polished floor. She scanned everything—the edges of the stage, the podium, the shadows where curtains met walls. Her gaze swept over the audience, pausing briefly on each section. Journalists at the back. Rows of attentive faces. No unusual movement.

She checked the positions of the security personnel she had placed inside the hall. Each of them looked back at her with the same nod of acknowledgment they had given earlier—everything was exactly where it should be.

Still, Tatiana took her time. She didn’t trust “should be.” She trusted her own eyes.

Finally, satisfied, she touched her earpiece again. “Tatiana to all units—Madam is entering the stage. Maintain positions.”

She turned back, opening the stage door for Oksana just as the announcer’s voice rose over the speakers, introducing her to the audience.

Tatiana stepped aside, holding the door for her VIP with a respectful tilt of her head, but her eyes remained sharp, scanning past Oksana as she moved toward the podium.

The moment Oksana stepped into the light, Tatiana’s jaw tightened slightly. She forced herself to stand still, but her mind was already running through contingencies. That single word still echoed in her head—Valkyrie.

Not today, she told herself silently. Not her.

Tatiana opened the stage door and held it as the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, introducing Oksana to the audience.

Oksana stepped forward confidently, walking to the podium. Her heels clicked softly against the stage floor as she reached the microphone. She glanced back briefly—at Tatiana, just for a heartbeat—before turning to the audience and beginning her speech.

Tatiana stayed at her post near the side, scanning the hall, eyes constantly moving.

Then she caught it.

A movement.

Through the sandblasted glass windows along the corridor, a shadow slid past—blurred, but quick. Too quick.

Tatiana’s gaze followed, tracking it panel by panel as it moved from left to right. Her body shifted slightly, weight balanced on the balls of her feet, like a predator ready to strike.

“Tatiana to all units,” she said into her earpiece, her voice sharp and low. “Shadow movement in right corridor. Track and report.”

She moved a step closer to the stage edge, eyes locked on the next glass panel. There it was again—same figure, same direction.

Then it disappeared from the windows, turning toward the right-side corridor that led to the stage entrance.

A second later, her earpiece buzzed with chatter. A man’s voice—security stationed near the stage door.

“Stage entrance—someone arguing. Claims he’s Yuri, Madam’s party coordinator.”

Tatiana’s jaw tightened. “Hold him there. Do not let him through.”

She turned her head slightly toward the men she had placed near the sides of the stage. “All stage-side units, be alert. I’m moving to the entrance.”

A quick sequence of nods from her team confirmed they heard her.

Tatiana left the stage with purpose, moving fast but controlled. Her boots barely made a sound as she slipped through the stage door and into the corridor.

---

Yuri stood there, agitation all over his face, clutching a black briefcase. The two guards at the door were blocking him, standing firm despite his raised voice.

“It’s important!” Yuri barked. “I was supposed to give this to her before the speech started!”

Tatiana approached, her presence alone enough to make the two guards stiffen straighter. Yuri turned to her, clearly frustrated, but his tone softened a fraction when he saw who had arrived.

“Tatiana, you know me. This is urgent.”

“Open it,” Tatiana ordered flatly.

“It’s locked,” Yuri said, holding the case tighter. “Only Madam knows the code.”

Tatiana’s eyes narrowed. “Has this been scanned?” she asked through her earpiece.

The reply came quickly from the main security checkpoint. “Yes. No anomalies detected. Looks like documents.”

But Tatiana didn’t move aside. She could feel the weight of every decision pressing against her. Her training told her never to trust ‘looks like.’

“I’m rescanning it,” she said firmly. Then to the guards: “No one enters until I clear it.”

Yuri followed her as she strode toward the scanner near the side hall door.

“Are you serious?” he snapped. “You don’t trust your own men?”

Tatiana didn’t even look at him. “I don’t trust locked briefcases walking to Madam during a live speech.”

“I’d never harm her!” Yuri protested, his frustration spilling into rapid Russian curses.

“Maybe not,” Tatiana said, her tone cold but calm. “But someone else might want to.”

She placed the briefcase into the scanner, her eyes glued to the screen. Orange shapes—flat, consistent, like paper stacks. She adjusted density, switching to deeper scan layers. Still clean.

“Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll inform Madam. If she wants it, I’ll hand it to her myself.”

“I’m not leaving until I see her get it,” Yuri insisted stubbornly.

Tatiana gave him a quick, measured glance but didn’t argue. She set the briefcase on a table near the scanner, away from the main door, keeping it within her line of sight.

Then she turned back toward the stage door, speaking into her earpiece. “Tatiana to all units—Madam secure. Resuming stage position.”

She opened the stage door and stepped inside.

She only could take few steps towards Oksana.

The world ended in a single instant.

A deafening roar, brighter than any sound had a right to be, tore through the air. A flash of white-hot light swallowed her vision before she even registered what was happening.

The blast hit her like a giant’s fist, slamming into her chest, lifting her off her feet. The air itself seemed to explode, sucking the breath from her lungs.

Her ears screamed with a piercing, metallic ring—and then nothing. No sound at all.

She felt herself crash against the broken stage door, her body weightless for a fraction of a second before gravity slammed her down. Splinters of wood scraped her arms, and hot dust choked her throat.

Her back seared with pain, sharp and relentless, like knives pressing into her spine.

“Aaahh—fuck,” she gasped, her own voice muffled, distant, as if underwater.

The smoke rolled over her, acrid and thick, carrying the smell of burned fabric, scorched metal… and something worse. Burning flesh.

Her mind snapped into training mode despite the pain. Explosion. Assess. Move.

She pushed the broken stage door off her legs, her muscles screaming in protest. “No, no, no… Oksana.”

Every step felt like moving through water, her legs trembling as she forced herself upright. She tore off her ruined blazer, ignoring the torn edges of her shirt and pants, bruises blooming across her arms and thighs.

She stumbled forward, tripping over debris, smoke blinding her.

Then her boot caught on shattered wood. She fell hard, rolling onto her side. As she fell, right in front of her eyes, half-burned, skin blackened, hair singed—lay only feet away, one eye grotesquely bulging, staring lifelessly at her – Oksana’s head.

Tatiana froze. Her entire body locked. Her chest stopped rising, her heart stopped pounding, and for one horrifying moment, she was just… empty.

The ringing in her ears drowned out the world, leaving only that sight—the one thing she had sworn would never happen and the one person she most cared about is disoriented in the scariest way. She screamed, but no sound came. Just her own breathless gasp trapped in her throat.

DING…

A soft electronic chime filled her ears.

Tatiana jerked upright, heart hammering, breath uneven.

“Ding… Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is your first officer speaking. We are beginning our final descent into Colombo…”

The calm voice of the airplane crew replaced the ringing in her head.

The passenger beside her turned, concerned.

“Sorry,” Tatiana said quickly, forcing her breathing to steady.

“You okay?”

“Yeah… nightmare,” she said, shaking her head, as if trying to push the image away.

Tatiana shifted in her seat, adjusting herself as if changing posture could quiet the storm inside her chest. Her breathing was uneven, but she forced it slower, steadying herself.

She turned toward the window. The misty clouds drifted apart, and for the first time, she saw Sri Lanka.