The morning light stretched lazily across the sleepy village. Thin streams of smoke rose from the chimneys, and a fresh breeze stirred the dust along the empty road. Nikolai Ivanovich had been up for hours. Today was a special day: he was taking his granddaughter Dasha into town, where she was set to complete the paperwork for her very first apartment — a dream she had nurtured for years.

Dasha sat quietly beside him, holding a folder of documents tightly to her chest. Her blonde hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, and her face glowed with excitement.

Nikolai Ivanovich watched her with pride, but deep inside, a strange unease gnawed at him.

— Grandpa, — Dasha said softly, breaking the silence, — the sky looks strange. Maybe we should pull over for a bit?

— Don’t worry, sweetheart, — he reassured her with a warm smile. — The sun will break through soon.

But the tightness in his chest only grew stronger.

And he was right to be wary.

As they rounded a bend, a black car with tinted windows suddenly swerved across the road, blocking their way. Nikolai slammed the brakes, the tires shrieking against the gravel.

Four men stepped out of the car. Tall, broad-shouldered, their faces unreadable and cold. One of them lazily lit a cigarette and approached.

— Well, old man, — he said with a sneer, — show us what you’re carrying. Word is you made a stop at the bank this morning.

Nikolai Ivanovich instinctively moved to shield Dasha with his body.

— We have nothing worth your trouble, — he said calmly, staring straight into the thug’s eyes.

The men exchanged glances. One of them leaned closer to the car, letting his gaze linger on Dasha. His grin widened, turning sinister.

— Pretty little thing you have there, — he said with a laugh. — Maybe we’ll start with her if you’re not feeling cooperative.

Dasha felt her heart freeze in terror. She could hardly breathe. But then, something happened that no one expected.

As the thug reached into the car and grabbed her by the arm, her dress shifted slightly, revealing a flash of metal.

Not jewelry.

A military identification tag.

Clearly engraved on it were the words: «Special Forces — Ministry of Defense.»

The thug recoiled as if burned, dropping her arm immediately. His expression twisted from cocky amusement to stark fear.

The other men saw it too. A ripple of alarm passed through them. They knew very well what it meant to attack a member of the Special Forces — a mistake that could cost them everything.

Without hesitation, Dasha pulled a collapsible baton from under her seat — an old but reliable tool her grandfather kept in the car «just in case.»

— Last warning, — she said in a cold, steady voice. — Leave. Now.

For a moment, the world stood still.

Then the leader gave a sharp nod. In a heartbeat, the four men scrambled back into their car, slammed the doors, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Dasha lowered the baton and turned to her grandfather with a trembling, but victorious, smile.

— Everything’s fine now, Grandpa, — she said, squeezing his hand gently. — All those years of military training weren’t for nothing. I know how to protect myself — and those I love.

Nikolai Ivanovich looked at her for a long time, his heart swelling with a pride he couldn’t express in words.

They continued their journey. The car rolled steadily down the country road, and finally, the first rays of sunlight broke through the gray clouds.

With a granddaughter like her, Nikolai thought, no storm could ever truly touch them. Not today. Not ever.