As Ivan was about to formulate a heavily guarded political response, the oppressive silence in the Kremlin hall grew nearly physical. But breaking all strategic expectations, Alia took a decisive step forward, closing the distance between them.
To bypass the highly classified audio bugs embedded within the desk and the surveillance of the guards, she leaned in flush against him. Pressing her lips directly near the former Army Chief's ear, she whispered the absolute truth in a low, calculating cadence
Alia: "I lied to you just now, Ivan... I only used that story so I could bypass your military clearance and meet you face-to-face without any interference. The truth is, you are not my enemy."
Hearing her sudden shift in tone and recognizing the familiar, lethal brilliance of her CIA operative roots, a cold shiver ran down Ivan's spine. His hardened gaze locked onto his sister in utter astonishment.
As Alia pulled back, the permanent, radiant crimson flush of her cheeks burned with a triumphant, sharp glow. Slipping her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose, she gave him a subtle, calculated look, signaling that even the walls in this room had ears.
Alia knew all too well that the fallout of the three-month-old alliance with Zhenkha and the security leak in Viktor's serum database pointed to a high-ranking traitor deep within the Kremlin's own defense sector. By using her family as a cover story, the Godmother had successfully breached the Prime Minister's office to weaponize Ivan's elite military network for her own counter-offensive.
Ivan's battle-hardened military mind instantly clicked into place. He realized his sister hadn't come to the Kremlin seeking refuge; she had marched in with Viktor's absolute authority and the backing of the Russian Royal Family to flip the entire chessboard. Maintaining his strict, professional facade, Ivan replied in a gravelly undertone—
Ivan: "So this entire parade of twenty bulletproof luxury vehicles and mafia guards was just a performance for the cameras, Godmother?"
Alia simply offered a devastatingly cryptic smirk, making it clear that the true endgame she had promised Maria had just been set into motion right under the government's nose. Upon hearing the strategic truth from his sister, Prime Minister Ivan's severe, military expression dissolved into a rare, proud chuckle. Realizing that his sister hadn't come to show weakness but to launch a brilliant counter-offensive, a deep smile played on his lips. Keeping up appearances for the surveillance bugs, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand—
Ivan: "Alright, go back to your home. But remember, the Kremlin's elite tactical divisions are always locked on standby for you."
Alia offered a devastatingly brilliant smirk, adjusting her lenses as the permanent, radiant crimson flush of her cheeks glowed with the satisfaction of a flawless execution. Without losing another second, she exited the grand hall and walked back to her formidable convoy of twenty ultra-luxury black vehicles.
As the massive, bulletproof fleet started moving along the highway back toward her imperial estate, the atmosphere grew increasingly heavy with tactical security. However, midway through the transit, an unexpected friction occurred on the main St. Petersburg sector.
While the twenty high-end vehicles were lined up in a strict, symmetrical row at a major government intersection, a local squad of traffic police officers arrived at the scene. Unaware of the highly classified nature of this specific convoy, the officers approached the front line and ordered the long line of luxury vehicles to move away immediately to clear the civilian block.
The moment the command was issued, Anashia Kim and her embedded asset Maria grew hyper-alert in the trailing security details. Alia, however, remained perfectly composed, leaning back into her leather seat. With a single, subtle nod of her absolute authority, her head bodyguard stepped out of the lead vehicle.
Flashing the classified imperial seal of Dark Lord Viktor Aleksandevich along with the high-clearance override codes of the Russian Royal Family, the lead bodyguard leveled a freezing stare at the officers. Recognition hit the police force like a physical blow realizing that the absolute Godmother of the nation's underworld was sitting directly behind those tinted panels, the officers instantly snapped into a rigid military salute and scrambled to clear the path.
The line of twenty luxury vehicles accelerated smoothly, leaving the local enforcement behind in a cloud of dust. As they headed back toward the sanctuary of their fortified mansion, the bureaucratic walls of the Kremlin could ever obstruct the path of the reigning Godmother. Though the initial traffic officers had cleared the path, a critical complication arose just a few kilometers ahead. At the final highway checkpoint, a high-ranking, rogue military-police officer used his reinforced cruiser to completely block Alia's convoy. This wasn't a standard patrolman; the calculated malice in his stance triggered Alia's CIA intuition instantly this man was tied directly to the high-level treason within the Kremlin or sent as a lingering operative of Zhenkha. As her lead car ground to a sudden halt, Alia shifted forward in her leather seat. Behind her lenses, her analytical gaze darkened with lethal precision, the permanent, Without hesitating for a single second, she engaged the encrypted comms on her dashboard and issued a sharp, non-negotiable tactical gesture to Viktor and Anashia Kim in the secondary details. Her voice cut through the line with the cold authority of the ruling Godmother—
Alia: "Viktor, Anashia... I need you to take the core formation and go back home right now. Do not compromise the palace security over this friction. I will handle this piece of garbage blocking my path personally. Just leave!"
Faced with her unyielding strategic dominance and the undeniable fire in her eyes, both the absolute ruler of Russia and the Korean Dragon Lord surrendered to her judgment. Having survived the relentless psychological warfare of the past three months, they knew better than to question her counter-offensives.
Obeying her absolute command, Viktor and Anashia detached from the grid, departing with fifteen vehicles of the main convoy back toward the fortress.
Now, isolated on the bleak Siberian highway, only 5 heavily armored, ultra-luxury vehicles remained with Alia. Within this stripped-down tactical squad was Alia, her trusted asset Maria, and her elite hand-picked security details. Drawing the cold steel of her pistol from her designer gown, she checked the chamber with a practiced click. Adjusting her lenses as the permanent flush of her cheeks glowed with a terrifyingly beautiful, cryptic smirk, she prepared to step into the frost. The rogue officer standing in her path had no idea he had just intercepted the absolute executioner of the underworld. Alia stepped out of the lead vehicle, the frozen highway air cutting across her face. With Viktor and the rest of the convoy gone, the atmosphere felt stripped of its political shield, leaving only raw tactical reality.
She walked directly toward the rogue officer, her right hand resting firmly beneath her coat against the grip of her weapon. Behind her, Maria and the elite security teams from the remaining five vehicles quietly fanned out, their rifles brought to a low ready position.
Stopping just two paces away from the barricade, Alia looked the officer dead in the eye. Her voice was flat, cold, and devoid of any emotion.
"Who gave the order to block this grid?" she demanded. "Was it Zhenkha, or someone inside the Kremlin? Give me a name, and you might actually walk away from this checkpoint alive."
The officer shifted his stance, his confidence visibly wavering under her direct pressure. He had expected an isolated target, but he was quickly realizing that even with a downsized escort, this woman was entirely in control of the field. Alia unbuttoned the top of her collared shirt slightly, exhaling slowly as the tension on the highway mounted. She looked back over her shoulder toward her vehicle.
"Maria, it feels unusually hot out here today," Alia muttered, her voice carrying a dry, calm indifference despite the freezing environment.
The rogue officer didn't take his eyes off her. His gaze lingered, tracking her movements as she adjusted her clothing, completely misjudging her lack of hesitation as vulnerability. He stepped closer, convinced he held the upper hand in this isolation.
Alia didn't wait for him to close the distance.
In a single, fluid motion, she drew the concealed pistol from beneath her coat and pressed the cold muzzle of the weapon directly against the center of his chest. The sharp click of the safety being disengaged echoed clearly in the open air.
The officer froze instantly, his breath catching in his throat as the raw steel bit into his uniform. The smug look on his face vanished, replaced by the sudden realization that he was milliseconds away from a bullet.
"Now," Alia whispered, her eyes locked onto his with absolute, lethal composure. "Let's try this question one more time." Feeling the cold steel of the barrel biting into his chest, the officer's confidence shattered entirely. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. Raising both hands slightly in surrender, he stammered defensively.
Officer: "No... nobody's orders, ma'am! I swear! I just... I thought you were just an ordinary citizen. Seeing a convoy of twenty luxury cars on this highway, I assumed it was some wealthy civilian bypassing protocol, so I came to check. I had no idea who you were!"
Alia stared at him, her sharp gaze narrowing as her agency training automatically analyzed his body language and the frantic pitch of his voice. It was instantly clear that the man was terrified and speaking the truth simply to save his own skin.
She didn't lower the weapon immediately. Stepping half a pace closer, her voice remained level, quiet, and absolutely lethal.
Alia: "Ordinary? No one traveling through the St. Petersburg sector with an escort of twenty armored vehicles is ordinary. And I am certainly nowhere near average. Consider yourself incredibly fortunate that I don't have the time to waste on you today."
With a swift, clean motion, she re-engaged the safety and slid the pistol back into her custom holster beneath her coat. Turning her back to him, she gave a brief nod to her security team. The elite guards immediately stepped forward, preparing to physically clear the officer's cruiser from the barricade.
"Get in the car, Maria," Alia commanded, walking back to her vehicle. "We need to get to the estate."