UnBooks:The Zero Agency: Ivan And His Mates in Majesty Service

Ivan's new AVTOMOBIL (Blyatmobile)

Chapter 1:

It was an ordinary Wednesday morning at St. George’s Academy. Ivan, Lara, Adam, Priscilla, and Director Burkov were gathered in the teachers’ lounge, sipping coffee and exchanging tales from their latest chaotic adventures. They’d recently earned some fame after the whole flying-saucer incident (which, admittedly, still left them slightly puzzled), but the hype had mostly faded. They were back to their everyday lives, and things felt… ordinary. Too ordinary, perhaps.

That morning, as Ivan sat grading a particularly uninspired essay on Shakespeare’s sonnets, he noticed an official-looking envelope peeking out from under his stack of papers. He flipped it over, saw the mysterious government seal, and froze.

“Oh no,” he muttered, drawing the others’ attention.

“What is it now?” asked Priscilla, eyeing him over her magazine.

“Another summons for my ‘unorthodox teaching methods’? Because if they’re talking about the fire hose incident, I maintain that was absolutely essential!” Ivan replied, frowning as he held up the letter. But to his surprise, it wasn’t a reprimand. In fact, it was an invitation—a very peculiar one.

“Dear Mr. Ivan Tůma and Esteemed Colleagues…” he read aloud, drawing the group closer, “…your unique talents have caught the attention of Her Majesty’s Secret Intelligence Service. We hereby invite you to a high-priority meeting regarding a special mission. Please present yourselves at the address below this evening at 7:00 PM. Discretion is advised.”

They exchanged bewildered looks, disbelief written across their faces.

“Us?” Director Burkov finally sputtered. “The Secret Intelligence Service? This has to be a mistake!”

Lara laughed, shaking her head. “Come on, this is a prank, right? I mean, can you imagine us as secret agents?”

“Of course,” Ivan said sarcastically, “because they’ve clearly run out of elite operatives and are turning to, what, a history teacher, an archaeologist, a magazine editor, an overenthusiastic literature teacher, and a Immigrant school director.”

But there was something about the letter that intrigued them—something that hinted that perhaps, somehow, this was legitimate. After a lot of debate (and one or two more coffee refills), they decided to go. After all, what was the worst that could happen? They’d just show up, laugh about it later, and head to a pub to toast their brief flirtation with the world of espionage.

Later That Evening, dressed in their best “discreet” clothes, they found themselves at the indicated address: a plain, grey building in a forgotten corner of London. The door creaked open as they approached, and an immaculately dressed man with a steely gaze welcomed them in with a nod.

“Ah, you must be the ‘Zero Agency,’” he said, offering a wry smile as he led them down a dim hallway. They exchanged puzzled glances—Zero Agency?

Before they could ask, they entered a room filled with buzzing equipment, files scattered across tables, and a large map with red pins dotting every continent. The man, who introduced himself as Agent W, briefed them with alarming formality.

“There’s been a major leak. Information crucial to national security has found its way into the wrong hands. Our best agents are all occupied abroad. We’re short on staff and under intense pressure. And, well, you were the next available... experts.”

Lara’s eyebrows shot up. “Experts? Us? Surely you mean the janitorial staff?”

Agent W’s face remained serious, though a flicker of doubt crossed his expression. “Perhaps there’s been some… confusion in your file, but rest assured, the data says you have skills essential to our mission. A mission, I must add, that requires—discretion, improvisation, and, uh, unconventional thinking.”

Priscilla stifled a laugh, and Burkov cleared his throat, trying to hide his delight. It wasn’t every day a top-secret agency mistook him for an “expert” operative.

But Agent W pressed on, handing them each a classified folder. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to intercept a notorious foreign asset scheduled to hand off classified information in the coming days. It will require teamwork, focus, and dedication.”

The quintet looked down at their folders, which contained, to their horror, a photo of the “target”: a seemingly normal man on the streets of London, casually sipping tea at a café. Beside him was a coded message only vaguely decipherable by anyone who wasn’t an expert cryptographer.

“Excuse me, but…” Ivan tried to interrupt. “We aren’t… we don’t have the skills for this! At all!”

Agent W merely shrugged. “Nonsense. The agency has records of each of you demonstrating remarkable—ingenuity.” He paused before emphasizing, “Besides, your presence here has already been logged, so you might as well finish the mission. Once you do, you’ll return to your ordinary lives.”

As Agent W walked away, muttering something about “necessary improvisation” and “untrained assets,” the quintet stood in stunned silence, folders in hand, their mission looming.

They were now, officially, the Zero Agency.

Ivan's pet

Chapter 2:

The group found themselves in a modern, high-tech training facility, vastly different from the old, creaky buildings of St. George’s Academy. The room buzzed with activity as young advisors, clad in sleek uniforms, moved between various high-tech stations. Holographic displays, advanced surveillance equipment, and cutting-edge weaponry filled the space.

Ivan, Lara, Adam, Priscilla, and Director Burkov stood at the center, feeling slightly out of place. The advisors, eager to impress, began showcasing the latest technology. They introduced the group to a fleet of hybrid Lexuses, Toyota Camrys, and even a few McLaren P1s, each equipped with state-of-the-art enhancements.

Priscilla, a young, naive American fashion designer living in England, stood out in her skinny jeans and Jordans. Her eyes widened as she admired the sleek cars. "Wow, these are incredible!" she exclaimed, running her hands over the glossy surfaces. "I mean, I knew we'd be seeing some cool stuff, but this is like... next level."

Director Burkov, dressed in his usual suit, gravitated towards the display of weapons. He examined them with a critical eye, appreciating the craftsmanship and innovation. "These are impressive," he muttered, his fingers brushing over the smart targeting systems.

Lara, ever the archaeologist, was more intrigued by the potential artifacts and historical significance of the items on display. She wandered around, examining anything that hinted at a connection to the past.

One of the advisors, a young woman with a sharp, efficient demeanor, gestured towards a display of weapons. “These are the latest in high-tech armaments,” she explained, pointing to a series of sleek, futuristic guns. “They use biometric locks, smart targeting systems, and adaptive camouflage.”

Ivan, however, seemed unimpressed. He looked out the window, where his recently acquired Izh 412 was parked. It was an old Soviet car, a stark contrast to the modern vehicles they were being shown. He sighed, thinking of simpler times.

“They’re very impressive,” Ivan said, his tone skeptical. “But you know, technology can be quite fragile. What happens when all this high-tech equipment fails?” He reached into his coat and pulled out his vz. 61 submachine gun. “This is my trusty Škorpion. Small, practical, and reliable. It doesn’t need fancy electronics to get the job done.”

Priscilla stared at him, wide-eyed. "Ivan, I knew you were a bit old-school, but I didn't expect... this!" She motioned towards the Škorpion, a mix of fascination and disbelief on her face.

The advisors exchanged glances, unsure how to respond. They were used to dealing with the latest innovations, not old-school reliability. But Ivan’s point was clear: sometimes, simplicity and reliability trump the latest advancements.

As the advisors continued their demonstrations, the rest of the group began to warm up to the new technology. Lara marveled at the holographic displays, Adam tinkered with the surveillance drones, and Priscilla admired the sleek design of the hybrid cars. Even Director Burkov couldn’t help but be impressed by the advanced weaponry, despite Ivan’s skepticism.

“Alright, Ivan,” Lara said, smiling. “We get it, old school has its charm. But we’re in a new world now. Let’s at least see what this new tech can do.”

Ivan nodded reluctantly. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when your fancy gadgets break down.”

The young advisors continued their training sessions, showing the group how to use the new equipment effectively. Despite Ivan’s initial resistance, they began to see the potential benefits of the advanced technology. The hybrid cars were silent and efficient, the surveillance drones provided invaluable intelligence, and the high-tech weapons, while complex, offered unparalleled precision.

As the day went on, Ivan couldn’t help but notice the enthusiasm of the young advisors. They were passionate, dedicated, and eager to make a difference. It reminded him of his younger days, when he first started his career. Perhaps there was something to be said for the new generation after all.

By the end of the day, the group had a newfound appreciation for the technology they’d been introduced to. Even Ivan had to admit that some of the advancements were impressive, though he still clung to his trusty Škorpion.

As they left the training facility, the young advisors watched them go, hopeful that their efforts had made an impact. Ivan, Lara, Adam, Priscilla, and Director Burkov knew they had a lot to learn, but they were ready to take on the challenges ahead.

The mission that lay before them was daunting, but with a mix of old-school reliability and cutting-edge technology, they felt more prepared than ever. The Zero Agency, a blend of past and future, was ready to face whatever came their way.

Chapter 3:

The training session was intense, far beyond what they had anticipated. The group was put through rigorous drills: hand-to-hand combat, modern technology handling, shooting practice, and various Special Forces Group (SFG) tactics. Priscilla, Adam, and Director Burkov were captivated by the high-adrenaline environment, eagerly diving into each new challenge. Ivan and Lara, however, were less enthused.

During a break, Lara approached one of the instructors. "May I try something?" she asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

The instructor, confident in his abilities, nodded. "Go ahead."

Without warning, Lara launched a swift, calculated attack. She deftly disarmed the instructor, throwing him to the ground with surprising force. Priscilla, Adam, and Burkov watched in stunned silence, their jaws practically on the floor.

"I’m not completely useless, you know," Lara said dryly, brushing her hands off.

Ivan, intrigued by Lara’s display, stepped forward. "My turn," he said to the instructor. "Pick up your weapon and aim it at me."

The instructor hesitated, looking to his colleagues for reassurance, but finally complied, raising his gun towards Ivan. In a blur of motion, Ivan clapped his hand against the instructor’s wrist, disarming him effortlessly. Before the instructor could react, Ivan’s fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling onto a nearby table.

The room fell silent, except for the muffled groan of the instructor. Lara watched with a knowing smile, while the others stood in wide-eyed astonishment. Priscilla seemed particularly taken aback, unable to reconcile Ivan’s unassuming appearance with his formidable skills.

"Seven years with the Special Forces in the Czechoslovak People’s Army," Ivan explained, his tone matter-of-fact. He looked every bit the gray-haired, slightly shabby man they knew, but his actions spoke volumes about his hidden expertise.

Next, the group moved on to driving tests. They were taken to a specialized track where a Toyota Camry awaited. The challenge: an extreme driving test designed to push their skills to the limit. Priscilla and Adam were excited, while Burkov looked on with curiosity.

"Ivan, why don't you give it a try?" the instructor suggested, still rubbing his bruised jaw.

Ivan shrugged and climbed into the driver's seat. With one hand casually on the wheel, he navigated the course with astonishing ease. Sharp turns, sudden stops, and high-speed maneuvers were all handled as if he were on a leisurely drive.

The instructor was stunned. "How are you doing that with just one hand?"

Ivan gave a dry smile. "I drive cars from the Eastern Bloc. It builds character."

The final test was underwater diving, tailored specifically for Priscilla. Given her fashion background, no one expected her to excel in such a physically demanding task. Yet, as soon as she donned the gear and submerged herself, her natural grace and adaptability shone through. She navigated the underwater obstacles with the ease of a seasoned diver, impressing the instructors once again.

The training resumed, with the group now acutely aware of Ivan and Lara’s capabilities. They were assigned roles based on their strengths by the instructor, who, despite his earlier humiliation, showed no ill will. Instead, he seemed to have gained a newfound respect for his unconventional trainees.

Priscilla was designated as the team’s reconnaissance and infiltration expert. Her youthful appearance, combined with her ability to communicate effectively and her impressive diving skills, made her perfect for gathering intelligence and blending into various environments. Her background in fashion design also allowed her to create believable undercover identities and disguises.

Adam was assigned as the tech specialist, responsible for handling all technological aspects of their missions, from hacking systems to managing surveillance equipment.

Director Burkov took on the role of strategist and logistics coordinator, utilizing his organizational skills to plan and support their operations.

Lara was made the lead investigator, her keen eye for detail and vast archaeological knowledge proving invaluable for uncovering hidden information and solving complex puzzles.

Ivan, naturally, was appointed the team’s combat and tactics instructor, but also a driver. His experience and skills making him the perfect mentor for the more physically demanding aspects of their missions.

As the session drew to a close, the group felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. They were beginning to see the potential in themselves and each other, realizing that despite their diverse backgrounds, they had the makings of a formidable team.

They left the training facility with a renewed sense of purpose, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead. The Zero Agency was not just a quirky assembly of misfits—they were becoming a cohesive unit, each member bringing something unique and vital to the table. And with Ivan’s and Lara’s hidden talents now in the open, they felt more prepared than ever for their upcoming mission.

Chapter 4:

Definitely not Slovak prime minister....

Their first mission took them to Slovakia. The main target was the prime minister, whose actions were demoralizing Europe and, by extension, the democratic world. This struck a chord with Ivan, as he was Czech and remembered the man from his past. Priscilla, on the other hand, was completely unaware of such geopolitical intricacies.

As they prepared, the team equipped themselves with high-tech weapons. Ivan, however, was slightly against relying solely on modern technology. He decided to make a quick detour home, gathering a few treasures from his own armory: a Škorpion submachine gun, a ČZ 75 pistol, a Kar 98 rifle with a bayonet, a Grabenmagazin, and some TNT for good measure. He then climbed into his red Škoda Forman, his faithful companion from the '90s, and drove to the team's garage.

Lara smiled as she saw Ivan arrive but got into the car with him. Burkov joined them shortly after. Adam and Priscilla couldn't contain their laughter at the sight of Ivan's old car but fell silent, chills running down their spines when they saw the rifle and TNT in the trunk. They decided it was safer to ride in the Lexus LS, driven by Adam.

The journey to Slovakia was uneventful at first. They crossed the border without incident, blending in as just another group of travelers. The calm atmosphere in the cars gave them time to reflect on the gravity of their mission.

As they approached their destination, the team's dynamic started to show. Priscilla, though inexperienced in matters of espionage, displayed an eagerness to learn and adapt. Her role as the reconnaissance and infiltration expert meant she had to be alert and quick-witted. Her diving skills would also come in handy, as their mission could involve traversing various terrains and environments.

Adam, the tech specialist, had his laptop open, monitoring various security feeds and hacking into systems as needed. His calm demeanor and sharp intellect made him invaluable to the team.

Burkov, the strategist and logistics coordinator, reviewed their plan meticulously, ensuring every detail was accounted for. His experience in managing complex operations was crucial to their success.

Lara, with her vast knowledge and investigative skills, was already piecing together clues from the limited information they had. She knew that understanding the prime minister's motivations and habits could give them an edge.

Ivan, the combat and tactics instructor, remained focused and ready. His years of experience and practical approach to problem-solving were a steadying influence on the team. Despite his old-school methods, his effectiveness couldn't be denied.

This is exactly not how Czechs and Slovaks care about sheeps.

During the drive, they passed through picturesque countryside and small villages. The tranquility was suddenly disrupted when they saw a disturbing scene in a field. A shepherd was doing an intercourse with the sheep. Ivan, glancing out of the window, shook his head with a resigned expression.

"That doesn't surprise me," Ivan muttered. "Back in my army days, I saw this kind of thing often enough. Slovaks did it then, and so did the Hungarians."

On the other hand, Priscilla's face turned pale as she realized what was happening. The shock and disgust overwhelmed her, and she vomited violently, covering part of the interior of the Lexus with the remnants of her breakfast. The elegant, expensive outfit she had been so proud of was now ruined.

"I can't believe this is happening," Priscilla moaned, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at the mess.

Adam, despite the grim situation, couldn't help but find a silver lining. "Well, Priscilla, looks like you'll need to change. I'll keep my eyes on the road, I promise," he said with a playful grin.

Priscilla shot him a glare but knew there was no other option. She rummaged through her bag for a spare set of clothes and started to change in the back seat. Adam kept his eyes on the road, but his occasional glances in the rearview mirror revealed his amusement.

Meanwhile, Ivan, Lara, and Burkov continued their journey in the Škoda, unperturbed by the rural sights and the sudden interruption. Lara couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Priscilla's mishap.

As they neared Bratislava, the atmosphere in both cars grew more serious. Ivan turned to Lara and Burkov. "Remember, this isn't just about taking down a target. We need to understand his network and gather intel. His influence extends beyond Slovakia."

Lara nodded. "We need to be precise and careful. Any mistake could have serious repercussions."

Burkov checked his watch. "We should arrive in twenty minutes. Let's go over the plan one more time."

In the Lexus, Adam and Priscilla, now in fresh clothes, were finalizing their tech setup. Adam explained, "I'll be monitoring the security systems and communications. We need to ensure we can move in and out without triggering any alarms."

Priscilla, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness, asked, "And if something goes wrong?"

Adam smiled reassuringly. "That's why we have Ivan and Lara. They'll handle any unexpected complications. Our job is to support them and gather as much information as possible."

As the team approached their destination, the tension in the air was palpable. They were about to embark on a mission that could have significant implications for the stability of Europe. Each member of the Zero Agency was ready to play their part, knowing that their unique skills and teamwork would be crucial to their success.

The quiet drive allowed them to mentally prepare for what lay ahead. They knew that once they reached their target, the real challenge would begin.

Chapter 5:

Their mission led them to a quiet suburb in Bratislava, where the prime minister was reportedly hiding sensitive information. The plan was simple: Priscilla would pose as a CNN reporter, Adam would handle the tech, Burkov would coordinate, Ivan would be on standby as backup, and Lara would search for evidence.

Priscilla, dressed in a stylish but practical outfit, approached the gate of the prime minister's residence with a microphone labeled "CNN." She flashed a confident smile at the guards, who reluctantly allowed her in, believing her to be just another journalist seeking an interview.

Adam, situated in a Lexus, monitored the security feeds and hacked into the residence's network to disable alarms and cameras. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he whispered updates to the team through their earpieces.

Burkov, ever the strategist, commanded the operation from a vantage point, ensuring everyone was in position and the plan was running smoothly. Ivan, smoking a cigarette, sat in the car parked nearby, his Škorpion submachine gun ready at his side.

Lara, using her investigative skills, slipped into the residence through a side entrance, searching for any incriminating documents or artifacts that could tie the prime minister to his nefarious activities.

Things took a turn for the worse when gunfire suddenly erupted from inside the building. Priscilla, caught off guard, stumbled and dropped her microphone, inadvertently revealing her true intentions. Panic set in as she realized the gravity of the situation. Without thinking, she turned and ran, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she made her escape.

Outside, Ivan's senses went on high alert as he heard the shots. "We're blown! Priscilla's cover is compromised!" he shouted into his earpiece, tossing his cigarette aside and grabbing his Škorpion. With a determined look, he burst out of the car and started firing at the approaching soldiers and guards, his steady hand unleashing a barrage of bullets.

Lara, meanwhile, engaged in hand-to-hand combat with two guards who had discovered her. Her training and agility gave her the upper hand as she disarmed and incapacitated them with swift, precise movements.

Burkov barked orders, coordinating their extraction. "Adam, keep those cameras down! Ivan, cover Lara! We need to find Priscilla and get out of here!"

Just as Adam was about to shut down the last security measure, his screen flickered. The Slovak intelligence had counter-hacked his system. "We've got a problem!" he shouted. "They've hacked me! We need to move now!"

Priscilla, in a desperate bid to escape, spotted a large public swimming pool—Koupaliště Zlaté Písky—and made a split-second decision. She leaped over the fence and dived into the water, disappearing from view. The team, unaware of her location, continued to fight their way out of the compound.

After a tense few minutes of intense combat and tactical maneuvers, they managed to regroup outside. "We need to find Priscilla," Ivan said, his voice firm but worried.

The team drove around, searching for any sign of their missing teammate. Finally, they spotted her, drenched and shivering, sitting by the edge of the pool. Her expensive clothes were ruined, and she looked thoroughly miserable.

"I can't believe this," Priscilla groaned, wringing out her soaked blouse. "My clothes are completely ruined!" Her voice cracked as she started to sob, the stress of the mission overwhelming her.

Despite her ordeal, she managed to produce a small flash drive from her pocket. "But I did manage to grab this. It might have the information we need," she said between sobs.

Adam quickly took the flash drive and plugged it into his laptop, scanning its contents. "Good job, Priscilla. This data could be exactly what we need," he said, trying to comfort her.

But the compromised system meant they had to leave immediately. "We need to get out of here. Head to Prague. It's our best bet," Burkov commanded.

As they sped away from Bratislava, the team couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Even in the face of danger, they managed to maintain their camaraderie and sense of humor. Their first mission had been far from smooth, but they had survived and come out stronger as a team.

The drive to Prague was tense but uneventful. They crossed the border without incident, blending in as just another group of travelers. The quiet atmosphere in the cars gave them time to reflect on the gravity of their mission and the unexpected twists they had encountered.

In the safe house in Prague, they gathered around the table, reviewing the information Priscilla had retrieved. It contained detailed plans and communications that could expose the prime minister's corrupt dealings. They had taken the first step in their mission, but they knew there was much more to come.

Ivan lit another cigarette and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Well done, team. We might be the 'Zero Agency,' but today, we proved we're anything but zeroes."

Chapter 6:

Ivan bought Praga V3S, super-durable thing from his childhood. However Priscilla is spoiled American, so she doesn't know....

After their close call in Bratislava, Ivan knew that relying on high-tech gadgets would only make them vulnerable to further hacking attempts. Determined to find a better solution, he reached out to an old acquaintance who had access to decommissioned equipment from the Czech Army. His plan was to secure equipment that would be impervious to modern hacking techniques. After a few discreet phone calls and some negotiating, he managed to procure a Praga V3S, an old military truck that had seen better days but was built to last.

The team gathered in their makeshift base in Prague as Ivan unveiled his new plan. “Modern technology is a liability,” he began. “We need something that can’t be hacked. I’ve secured a Praga V3S, outfitted with lead plates to block signals. We’ll disguise it as a camper on the inside so it doesn’t attract attention.”

Priscilla raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And what about me? How am I supposed to look credible as a CNN reporter in that?”

Ivan smirked. “I’ve arranged for a cameraman to join you. You’ll need to dress down—less formal, more practical. We can’t afford to stand out.”

Priscilla sighed but agreed, realizing the importance of the mission. She wasn’t happy about giving up her fashionable attire but understood the necessity.

"Knock-Off Ford"

In addition to the Praga V3S, Ivan decided to leave his trusty Škoda Forman behind in Prague. He needed something even more resistant to electronic interference. He acquired a Volga 21, a classic car with minimal electronic components. When Lara saw the Volga, her eyes lit up with excitement. “This looks almost regal. Much better than that old Škoda.”

Priscilla, however, wasn’t impressed. “It looks like a cheap knock-off Ford.”

Ivan gave her a stern look. “That Volga and the Praga will outlast all of us. Trust me.”

Determined to ensure everyone was prepared, Ivan conducted a quick hand-to-hand combat training session with Priscilla. He demonstrated basic moves and techniques, making sure she could defend herself if needed. Despite her initial reluctance, Priscilla quickly picked up the skills, surprising even Ivan with her determination.

Delicious!!

After the training, Ivan regaled the team with stories from his army days and his later career as a criminal investigator. His tales were both fascinating and sobering, reminding everyone of the stakes involved in their mission.

As the evening turned into night, the team decided to unwind. They hit the local pubs, experiencing the full spectrum of Prague’s nightlife. Ivan, accustomed to the hard-drinking culture, led the charge while the others struggled to keep up. Predictably, Priscilla ended up getting sick again, her stomach rebelling against the combination of stress, alcohol, and heavy Czech food.

Chapter 7:

Back in Prague, Ivan knew they needed better preparation for their second attempt. Determined to equip his team with reliable weapons, he led them to a reputable gun shop he knew well from his days as an investigator.

Inside the dimly lit store, the walls were lined with an array of firearms. Ivan gestured for the team to follow him. “We need to be ready for anything. Pick your weapons wisely.”

He began selecting weapons for each team member. “Glock 17 for Adam,” he said, handing over the plastic, but reliable pistol. Adam accepted it with a nod, checking the magazine with practiced ease.

“For Burkov, two Beretta M92s,” Ivan continued, passing the semi-automatic pistols to the burly Russian, who grinned appreciatively.

“Lara, you get the Colt Cobra,” Ivan said, handing her the small but powerful revolver. Lara took it with a smirk, appreciating its compact form.

“For my own defense, I’ll carry the Colt M1908 Vest Pocket,” Ivan announced, showing the tiny yet deadly firearm before slipping it into his coat pocket. He also chose a Mosin-Nagant rifle and an AKM for more serious firepower, securing them in the back of the Praga V3S.

Finally, Ivan turned to Priscilla. “For you, the Colt Viper,” he said, offering her the revolver. Priscilla hesitated, her distaste evident as she gingerly took the gun.

“Why do I get this old thing?” she complained, examining the weapon with a wrinkled nose.

“It may look old, but it’s actually a new model. Reliable and effective,” Ivan explained. “By the way, I’ll be your cameraman,” he added with a wry smile. Priscilla’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What? But you’re…”

“Experienced, yes,” Ivan interrupted. “Now, there’s something else you need to do. You’ll be driving the Volga.”

“But I don’t know how to drive stick!” Priscilla protested.

“Then it’s time you learned,” Ivan replied, leading her to the car. He spent the next hour giving her a crash course in driving with a manual transmission. Priscilla struggled at first, stalling the car repeatedly, but eventually got the hang of it under Ivan’s patient guidance.

“See? Not so hard,” Ivan said as Priscilla managed to drive the Volga around the block without stalling. She still looked uncertain but nodded, determined to prove herself.

With everyone re-armed and somewhat more confident, they loaded up the Praga V3S and the Volga 21. Ivan ensured the lead plates inside the Praga were securely in place, hiding their makeshift camper interior. The team’s gear was stowed carefully, and they double-checked their supplies.

As they set off once more, the mood was a mix of tension and cautious optimism. Ivan took the lead in the Praga, with Burkov riding shotgun. Lara sat in the back, going over their plans again. Behind them, Priscilla drove the Volga, Adam beside her, still fiddling with some electronic gear that Ivan hoped wouldn’t compromise them again.

Their route took them through the scenic Czech countryside, the rolling hills and dense forests providing a picturesque backdrop for their journey. Despite the gravity of their mission, there were moments of camaraderie and even humor as they traveled.

“Next stop, Slovakia,” Ivan announced over the radio. “We’ll be ready this time.”

The team’s resolve was stronger than ever. They knew the risks, but they also knew they had each other’s backs. With their low-tech convoy and a plan in place, they felt more prepared to face whatever lay ahead. The challenges would be many, but Ivan’s leadership and their newfound cohesion gave them hope.

As they approached the border once again, Ivan reflected on how far they’d come. They weren’t just a group of individuals thrown together by circumstance—they were a team, united by a common goal. This time, they would succeed.

Chapter 8:

As they continued their journey to Bratislava, the atmosphere inside the vehicles was a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Ivan drove the Praga with steady confidence, while Priscilla, now more comfortable with the manual transmission, followed closely in the Volga.

Suddenly, Ivan’s attention was drawn to a commotion in a field by the roadside. He squinted and muttered to himself, “What the hell…”

The rest of the team noticed too. In the distance, they saw a shepherd engaging in a disturbingly inappropriate act with one of his sheep. Ivan sighed, shaking his head. “Slovaks and their traditions,” he muttered darkly. “They did the same thing in the army. Hungarians too.”

Priscilla’s face turned green as she comprehended what was happening. “Oh my God,” she gasped, her stomach churning. She barely managed to pull the Volga over before she leaned out and vomited, the contents of her stomach splattering the roadside.

Adam looked on, concerned. “You okay, Pris?” he asked, patting her back.

Priscilla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her expensive clothes now stained. “I’ll be fine,” she muttered, but her eyes betrayed her discomfort. She glanced at Adam and forced a weak smile. “Guess I’m not cut out for countryside surprises.”

After a few minutes, they were back on the road. The incident left Priscilla more determined to prove herself, and Adam more protective of her. They knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but their resolve was stronger than ever.

They continued their journey, the sun setting behind them as they crossed into Slovakia. The team was quiet, each lost in their thoughts, preparing mentally for the mission ahead. They had faced unexpected challenges before, but this time, they felt more united, more ready to take on whatever came their way.

The convoy rolled into Bratislava under the cover of night, the city lights twinkling in the distance. They parked their vehicles in a secluded area, away from prying eyes. Ivan gathered the team for a final briefing, his expression serious.

“Remember, stick to the plan. Priscilla, you’ll go in with the microphone and camera. Adam, you’re our eyes and ears. Burkov, keep everyone coordinated. Lara, find the evidence we need. I’ll be on standby, ready to step in if things go south.”

The team nodded, each member steeling themselves for the task ahead. With a final look of determination, they set off, ready to face whatever dangers awaited them in the heart of Bratislava.

Upon arriving in Bratislava, Ivan led the team to a strategic location near the Bratislava Castle. They joined a group of reporters, blending in seamlessly to avoid suspicion. Priscilla, now dressed in less conspicuous attire, Ivan carried the bulky, television camera.

“Alright, everyone, stick to the plan,” Ivan whispered, adjusting the camera on his shoulder. “We go in, get the intel, and get out. No unnecessary risks.”

As they approached the castle, the guards waved them through, recognizing the press credentials. The castle was bustling with activity, a mix of politicians, security personnel, and media.

Inside, the team split up. Priscilla moved with the other reporters, microphone in hand, her demeanor professional and composed. Ivan stayed close, the camera rolling, capturing everything. Lara, Adam, and Burkov fanned out, each with their specific tasks. Lara searched for evidence, Adam kept an eye on the security systems, and Burkov coordinated their movements.

The castle's grand halls and ornate rooms provided the perfect cover for their covert operations. They moved with purpose, their actions synchronized and precise.

As they settled into their roles, the tension began to ease. They were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead, their resolve strengthened by their shared mission.

“Keep your eyes open and stay sharp,” Ivan reminded them, his voice steady. “We’re just getting started.”

Chapter 9:

Ivan and Priscilla blended seamlessly into the crowd of news crews at the Bratislava Castle. The castle's imposing architecture provided a dramatic backdrop as various media teams jockeyed for the best positions to cover the press conference. Ivan, hefting an oversized, vintage television camera, moved with surprising ease, the heavy equipment seemingly an extension of himself. Priscilla, with her bright smile and polished persona, handled the microphone like a pro, ready to ask the tough questions.

Lara, moving with the grace and stealth of a seasoned archaeologist, slipped away from the throng. She navigated the castle's labyrinthine hallways, her eyes scanning for anything that might be of value. In a dimly lit office, she found what she was looking for: a stack of documents bearing the seal of the Slovak government. She swiftly photographed them and, with a sly smile, pocketed a gilded pen as a keepsake.

Back in the main hall, Burkov orchestrated the operation with military precision. He directed the team through discreet earpieces, his calm demeanor a reassuring constant amidst the chaos. Adam, hunched over his laptop, tapped into the Slovak Intelligence Service's communication network. He expertly intercepted and disrupted their signals, creating a window of opportunity for the team.

Everything was going smoothly until Ivan felt an urgent need for a bathroom break. He handed the camera to a nearby Russian cameraman, mumbling in broken Russian, "Я сейчас вернусь" (I’ll be right back). The Russian, with a bemused look, grunted, "Эта камера тяжёвая хуйня," (This camera is a heavy piece of shit) and, out of curiosity, started filming Priscilla's backside instead of the prime minister.

Ivan rushed through the halls, his mind racing as he completed his business as quickly as possible. When he returned, he found the Russian still holding the camera, focused intently on the wrong subject. Ivan hastily took back the camera, muttering a quick thanks before resuming his position.

The press conference was in full swing. The prime minister, a formidable figure, fielded questions with practiced ease. Priscilla, seizing her moment, asked a pointed question laced with mischief, catching the prime minister off guard. His stammered response drew murmurs from the assembled press, and a fleeting look of triumph passed over Priscilla's face.

Meanwhile, Lara rejoined the group, her pockets heavier with the stolen documents and her newfound trophy. The team regrouped outside the castle, their mission a resounding success. They quickly packed their equipment and headed towards the countryside, away from the prying eyes of the authorities.

The drive was tense but filled with a sense of accomplishment. As they sped away from Bratislava, Ivan glanced in the rearview mirror at his eclectic team. Each member had played their part perfectly, and despite the occasional hiccup, they had pulled off their first mission together.

As they drove through the Slovak countryside, the tension began to ease. The scenic landscape rolled by, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere they had just left behind. Ivan, now more relaxed, began to regale the team with stories from his past as a criminal investigator and paratrooper career.

Reaching a secluded farmhouse in the countryside, they parked the vehicles and unloaded their gear. The air was crisp and clean, a stark contrast to the city. They gathered around a makeshift table, the documents spread out before them.

"Excellent work, everyone," Ivan said, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "We have what we came for. Now, let's see what secrets we've uncovered."

Chapter 10:

The team woke up at their farmhouse hideout, still groggy from the previous night's celebrations. The morning light filtered through the old windows, casting a warm glow on the documents spread across the table. Ivan, Burkov, Lara, Priscilla, and Adam gathered around, sipping coffee and going through the papers they had stolen from Bratislava Castle.

Burkov, meticulously combing through a particularly dense file, suddenly stopped. "Ivan, take a look at this," he said, pushing the document across the table. Ivan leaned in, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the text. His expression hardened.

"This is a plan for a military intervention in Ukraine," Ivan said grimly. "It outlines a joint operation with Russia. The Slovak army is supposed to move through Uzhhorod and Lviv to reach Kyiv, where they intend to seize Ukrainian military technology. From there, they plan to push east and take over the vast wheat fields, expanding their territory and becoming a major agricultural power."

The room fell silent. The implications of this plan were enormous. Priscilla looked pale, her usual bravado replaced by genuine concern. "This is insane," she whispered.

Lara, always composed, nodded. "If this gets out, it could destabilize the entire region."

Ivan, however, chuckled darkly. "The Slovak army is weak. This plan is overambitious, driven by a bunch of pro-Russian collaborators. But we have the evidence we need to expose them."

As they began to discuss their next steps—how to use this information to topple the Slovak government—a sudden commotion broke out. A sheep, clearly distressed and bleeding from its rear, ran into the farmhouse, causing chaos. The team stared in shock as the animal stumbled around the room.

"What the hell?" Adam exclaimed.

To everyone's surprise except Ivan, a shepherd followed the sheep into the house, shouting angrily in Hungarian, "Mit bámulsz?" (What are you looking at?). He continued his obscene act, oblivious to the team's horror.

Priscilla and Lara, unable to contain their disgust, screamed at the top of their lungs. "Oh my God, what is he doing?!" Priscilla cried, her voice shrill with panic.

Lara backed away, her hands over her mouth. "This is... this is insane!" she yelled, her usual composure shattered by the sheer absurdity and horror of the scene.

The shepherd, undeterred by their reactions, shouted more obscenities, "Ez az én dolgom, menjetek innen!" (This is my business, get out of here!). His voice was filled with rage and he seemed oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

Priscilla and Lara, unable to contain their disgust, vomited on the spot, their reactions mirroring the revulsion felt by everyone else. Ivan and Burkov, maintaining their composure, quickly moved to handle the situation.

Ivan grabbed the shepherd by the collar, pulling him away from the sheep. "Get out!" he yelled, his voice commanding and filled with contempt.

Burkov, equally incensed, helped Ivan escort the man out of the farmhouse, ensuring he would not return. Once the shepherd was gone, Ivan slammed the door shut, shaking his head in disbelief. "Some things never change," he muttered.

The team regrouped, trying to regain their focus despite the bizarre and disturbing interruption. They knew they had to move quickly. With the evidence of Slovakia's plans in their hands, they began strategizing on how to use this information to incite change. Their goal was clear: to prevent the Slovak government from executing its dangerous and reckless scheme.

Despite the surreal and grotesque interruption, the team remained determined. They had a mission to complete, and with Ivan's leadership, they knew they could achieve it. As they gathered their belongings and prepared to move out, the gravity of their task weighed heavily on them. The road ahead was fraught with danger, but they were ready to face it head-on.

Chapter 11:

The team set out to investigate military bases, their minds still reeling from the bizarre events of the morning. As they drove through the rugged Slovak countryside, Ivan noticed a familiar figure by the side of the road. It was the shepherd from earlier, now looking much calmer.

Ivan instructed Adam to stop the vehicle. "Hold on a second," he said, opening the door and stepping out. The rest of the team groaned in unison, clearly displeased with the idea of another encounter with the shepherd.

"Hey, you!" Ivan called out in broken Hungarian. "Szolgáltál?" (Did you serve?)

To his surprise, the shepherd responded in fluent English. "Yes, I served. I was with the tank division in Trebišov."

Ivan was taken aback. This was not the answer he had expected. "What's your name?" he asked, switching to English.

"Görgy," the shepherd replied. "I tried to lead a coup in Hungary, but it failed. Spent some time in prison for it." He reached into his tattered jacket and pulled out a stack of photographs, showing scenes of prison life and military tanks.

Ivan examined the photos, nodding thoughtfully. "Alright, Görgy. We're heading to Trebišov. We could use someone with your experience."

The rest of the team exchanged incredulous looks. "Are you serious?" Priscilla exclaimed. "We can't just pick up random people off the street!"

But Ivan was resolute. "Görgy has military experience. He might be useful. Besides, we need all the help we can get."

Reluctantly, the team made room for Görgy in the vehicle. He squeezed into the cramped space, still clutching his photographs. As they resumed their journey, Görgy began to tell his story in more detail. He spoke of his time in the Hungarian military, the failed coup attempt, and the harsh conditions of the prison where he was held.

His knowledge of military tactics and strategy impressed Ivan. Despite his rough exterior and the earlier shocking encounter, Görgy proved to be a valuable asset. The rest of the team slowly warmed up to him, realizing that his experience and insights could indeed be beneficial.

As they approached Trebišov, the landscape became more industrial. The team knew they were entering a region with a strong military presence. They parked their vehicles in a secluded area and began to discuss their plan.

"First, we need to gather intelligence," Ivan said, looking at each member of the team. "Lara, you'll infiltrate the base and find any documents or information we can use. Burkov, coordinate our efforts and keep us on track. Adam, focus on electronic surveillance and jamming any communication from the base. Priscilla, you'll be our eyes and ears on the ground, posing as a journalist."

"And what about me?" Görgy asked.

"You'll help me with security," Ivan replied. "We'll stay close to the action and ensure everyone's safety."

The plan was set. They moved cautiously towards the base, their hearts pounding with anticipation. This mission was critical, and they couldn't afford any mistakes. As they neared the base, the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the landscape.

Ivan took a deep breath and looked at his team. Despite the challenges and unexpected twists, they had come together as a cohesive unit. Now, they faced their greatest test yet. With Görgy's unexpected addition to their ranks, they felt a renewed sense of determination.

"Let's move," Ivan said, leading the way. "We have a job to do."

Chapter 12:

As the team drove deeper into the Slovak countryside, an uneasy silence settled over them. The landscape was a mix of rugged hills and small, aging villages where time seemed to stand still. Ivan’s eyes scanned the scenery, noticing how the narrow streets and weathered houses carried a heavy sense of isolation. The villagers looked at their vehicle with a mixture of suspicion and mild curiosity, while an occasional shepherd in the fields cast wary glances in their direction.

Adam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “This place feels… a bit too quiet,” he muttered, his voice low.

Priscilla, gazing out the window, felt a knot tightening in her stomach. She was from California, a place worlds apart from this setting, and the Slovak landscape felt deeply unsettling. “It’s as if we’ve traveled back in time,” she said, her voice tense. “Nothing modern in sight. Just… bleak.”

Ivan glanced at her, noticing her pallor. “Just stay focused. We’ll be at the base soon enough.”

They drove on, but the scenes around them did little to ease Priscilla’s growing discomfort. Shepherds dotted the fields, their gazes distant, as if they’d seen everything and nothing all at once. The isolation weighed on her, and the countryside’s eerie quiet seemed to echo her anxiety.

As they neared the military base, a disturbing scene unfolded near the edge of the road. Within view stood a man in a captain’s uniform beside a flock of sheep, his behavior clearly inappropriate. The team’s faces twisted in disgust.

“What the—?” Adam exclaimed, immediately averting his gaze.

Görgy, sitting beside Ivan, shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s the way it is here. Nothing new.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened as she looked at Görgy, her voice a mixture of horror and disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Görgy gave her a sidelong glance. “Rural life… it’s different. Doesn’t mean it’s right, but it happens.” He turned his gaze back to the road ahead, as if they had seen nothing out of the ordinary.

The vehicle filled with a tense silence as they left the unsettling scene behind, and Priscilla’s face was pale, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. The sense of urgency to reach Trebišov—and to get far away from these disturbing sights—was stronger than ever.

By the time they reached the outer limits of the Trebišov military base, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the barren grounds. They parked in a hidden spot, giving their equipment one last check before moving into position.

Ivan whispered, “Everyone clear on their tasks?” His gaze moved from one tense face to the next, lingering briefly on Priscilla, whose anxiety was clear.

Each team member nodded. Lara would infiltrate the base and retrieve any useful documents; Burkov would monitor and jam communications as necessary; Adam was in charge of rerouting security cameras. Priscilla, though still visibly uneasy, took up her role as lookout, preparing a cover story in case anyone approached them.

Once on the base grounds, Görgy led the way with a confidence that reassured even Priscilla. Moving through narrow alleys between buildings, past the main barracks, they approached a large concrete structure that Görgy identified as the tank garage.

Adam quickly accessed a nearby terminal and managed to override the lock on the garage door. The heavy doors groaned open, revealing the looming shape of a T-72M1 tank in the dim light. Görgy’s eyes lit up as he approached it, and even Ivan couldn’t help but admire the machine’s powerful presence.

“Here we go,” Görgy said, a smirk crossing his face as he ran his hand along the side of the tank.

Görgy and Ivan took the lead, familiarizing themselves with the controls while the others kept watch. Burkov’s jamming kept the base’s radio signals quiet, ensuring they would remain undetected a bit longer.

The engine roared to life, a deep, thunderous growl reverberating through the tank. Görgy’s grin widened as he took the controls, muttering to himself, “Just like the old days.”

The tank moved forward with a sharp lurch, its tracks grinding over gravel as it made its way toward the exit. Outside, Priscilla kept the guards distracted by pretending to be a journalist lost on her way to a nearby historical site. She chatted animatedly with a guard, buying the team precious time.

As the T-72M1 rolled out of the garage and toward the main gate, the guards barely had time to react. Shouts broke out, and one tried to raise his weapon, but Burkov’s interference and Priscilla’s distraction allowed the team enough time to stay a step ahead of the chaos.

Once they cleared the gate, Ivan took a steadying breath, the adrenaline still coursing through him. “Good job, everyone. Let’s get out of here.”

The tank rumbled down the narrow road leading away from the base, its powerful engine echoing in the cool evening air. Behind them, alarms finally sounded as the base’s personnel realized what had happened. But it was too late—the team was already well on their way.

In the dim glow of the dashboard, Görgy looked over at Ivan, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. “Not bad for a day’s work, eh?”

Ivan managed a small grin. “Not bad at all.”

In the confined space of the tank, Priscilla’s nerves began to settle, and she exchanged glances with the others, feeling a flicker of relief. They had successfully stolen a piece of military hardware, an almost impossible feat. And though Slovakia still unsettled her deeply, for the first time, she felt a renewed sense of purpose alongside her team. With the T-72M1 now under their control, they were more prepared than ever for the mission ahead.

Chapter 13:

The team found themselves gaining unexpected support as they made their way back to Trebišov. Word of their daring actions had begun to spread, attracting a small group of Slovak citizens eager to join their cause. Many were students—young, idealistic, and passionate about making a difference. They were drawn not only to the mission but also to the allure of working alongside the foreign operatives, particularly Lara and Priscilla. The women’s confidence and bravery fascinated them, and their admiration was evident.

As they paused to regroup outside a secluded café, one of the bolder students, a young man named Tomas, approached Lara with a shy but unmistakable glint in his eye. With a slight smile, he leaned toward her, seemingly intent on stealing a kiss.

Just as Tomas leaned in, Ivan, Lara’s husband, noticed the move. Without a moment’s hesitation, he stepped in and delivered a swift punch, sending Tomas stumbling back, shocked. The group fell silent, tension filling the air as everyone looked between Ivan and the young Slovak.

Ivan’s expression softened as he turned to the student. “Respect is key, Tomas. Focus on the mission, not distractions.”

Tomas sheepishly nodded, rubbing his jaw but understanding the message. He exchanged an apologetic glance with Lara, who offered him a forgiving nod, her loyalty to Ivan evident.

With the misunderstanding behind them, the team continued toward Trebišov, accompanied by a handful of students who were still eager to prove themselves. As they neared the military base, they were greeted by a contingent of Slovak soldiers already on alert. These soldiers, mostly young and progressive in outlook, had heard whispers about the mission and were surprisingly willing to listen.

Ivan stepped forward and introduced himself, explaining the situation and their intent. As he spoke, the soldiers exchanged glances, nodding in agreement as Ivan outlined the urgency of the mission. There was a spark of excitement in the soldiers’ eyes, a hunger for change that aligned with the team’s goals.

One by one, the soldiers climbed into their vehicles, bringing with them a mixture of Soviet-era T-72M1 tanks and German-made Leopard 2A4 tanks. The small convoy roared to life, ready to rally ground forces and increase their numbers.

Priscilla found herself talking with a young soldier named Martin, who was openly fascinated by her experience and resilience. As they discussed the mission, he moved closer, and at one point, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, a show of unexpected warmth. Priscilla, taken by surprise, blushed deeply, but maintained her focus on the task at hand. Though she didn’t respond, her reddened cheeks revealed her flustered state, and the two shared a brief smile before returning to their duties.

The convoy made its way through the streets, rallying more support from the local military. With each new recruit, their forces grew stronger, a blend of experienced soldiers and enthusiastic citizens who saw in this mission a chance to stand for something greater.

As they continued to gather allies, Ivan coordinated with Burkov to contact the Slovak Air Force. Though initial responses were hesitant, a few air squadrons soon agreed to join, though their numbers remained limited. It was a partial success but still a promising addition to their rapidly growing force.

With tanks lined up and a handful of planes now on standby, the team felt the power of a movement that had begun as a simple mission and was now fueled by the shared aspirations of people who wanted change. The road ahead was still uncertain, but with their growing numbers, the team felt ready for the challenge that lay before them.

Chapter 14:

The convoy pushed forward across the rolling hills of Slovakia, the sheer size of their group growing with each passing town. News of their mission had spread, and as they approached the outskirts of Košice, clusters of Slovak citizens were already waiting for them, waving flags and carrying makeshift banners. Among them were students, workers, and even a few older veterans—people inspired by the mission’s aim and the chance to join something historic.

In Košice, the citizens took it upon themselves to raid an old military barracks on the edge of town. Decades-old equipment was unearthed, including spare parts, uniforms, and even a few lightly armored vehicles. A mix of chaos and exhilaration filled the air as people scoured the grounds, gathering whatever they thought might be of use. The recruits eagerly loaded supplies into vehicles, transforming their convoy from a ragtag band into a force that had the look of a real resistance.

Yet, the excitement came with moments of discomfort for some in the group. The stark rural landscapes and remote villages evoked a sense of isolation that felt strange to some, especially Priscilla, who was used to California’s vast and bustling spaces. She tried to focus on the mission, but the eerie quiet of the countryside, broken only by the sound of their engines, kept her on edge.

Noticing her unease, Martin, a young soldier she’d grown close to over the past days, struck up a conversation, sharing stories of his own experiences in the Slovak countryside. His easygoing manner and enthusiasm helped to break through her anxiety, bringing a sense of lightness to the journey.

As the convoy wound through the next stretch of road, they soon entered Humenné, where they encountered an unexpected roadblock. A crowd of locals—mostly Roma families and rural villagers—had gathered, their faces showing a mixture of suspicion and defiance. Some were armed with pitchforks, old rifles, and stones, clearly viewing the convoy as an intruder in their territory.

Ivan, observing the scene from his spot in the Praga V3S with Lara beside him, couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “They really mean to hold us off with sticks and stones,” he muttered, a grin spreading across his face.

Lara laughed, shaking her head. “Brave, but misguided. I doubt they’ll try anything once they see the size of our convoy.”

True to her prediction, as the line of vehicles continued to grow, the local crowd’s resistance began to waver. Faced with armored vehicles and dozens of determined faces, they soon parted, allowing the convoy to roll through. Ivan and Lara exchanged another amused glance, their laughter and relaxed demeanor lifting the spirits of those around them.

Priscilla and Martin, meanwhile, found themselves sharing more than just stories as the convoy wound its way through the quiet countryside. The chemistry between them had been undeniable, and after hours of conversation and shared glances, they found themselves sneaking off for a quiet moment together. During a brief stop in an open field, they climbed into the back of their Volga and let the tension between them finally unfold. For Priscilla, it was a fleeting escape from the intensity of the mission, a grounding moment that reminded her of life beyond the constant state of vigilance.

As dawn began to break, the convoy resumed its march westward, moving in steady rhythm across the Slovak landscape. The towns grew sparser, but their support did not wane. In each village they passed, more volunteers joined their ranks, sometimes bringing additional supplies or simply cheering from the roadside. The convoy now stretched for miles, with makeshift flags flying from vehicles and a sense of purpose that resonated even among the newer recruits.

By the time they neared Bratislava, the atmosphere in the convoy had grown electric. They had become a symbol of resistance, their ranks swelling with each passing day. The mission that had once felt daunting was now a unifying force for Slovaks who saw in this movement a chance to make a stand.

As the convoy prepared for the next phase of the mission, Ivan and Lara took a moment to take stock of the people they’d inspired along the way. They had gathered a mix of civilians, soldiers, and even a few government defectors, all united under a common cause. The journey had been grueling, yet the camaraderie and determination among them gave each member a renewed sense of hope.

Their next stop would bring them face-to-face with the heart of power in Slovakia. With tanks rumbling and spirits high, the convoy pressed onward, ready for the challenges that lay ahead.

Chapter 15:

As the convoy rumbled closer to the outskirts of Bratislava, the city’s remaining government forces scrambled to form a line of defense. These units, hastily assembled and lightly armed, held a narrow road that curved through the last stretch of open fields leading to the city. The sight of military vehicles and determined faces bearing down on them was intimidating enough, but the sight of “battle sheep” was enough to throw them completely off guard.

In the fields around the convoy, a dozen or so sturdy sheep trotted alongside the vehicles. Slovak soldiers from the convoy had fastened lightweight equipment and protective gear to the animals, even fashioning makeshift saddles on some. A few soldiers, taking advantage of the sheep's agility and stamina, rode them like tiny warhorses, making for a bizarre yet oddly impressive sight.

One of the soldiers, grinning at the unexpected chance to bring in humor and old-fashioned intimidation, rode his sheep right up to the front line, the animal trotting dutifully as if it, too, were part of the mission. The scene was strange, yet undeniably effective: the remaining loyalist soldiers shifted uneasily, their resolve clearly wavering.

“Forward!” Ivan shouted, rallying the convoy. “Let’s show them we mean business!”

The convoy’s makeshift troops, along with their unconventional “battle sheep,” advanced steadily, inching closer to the city’s edge. To the surprise of the loyalist soldiers, no shots were fired. Instead, they watched as a symbol of unity approached—a convoy of fellow Slovaks and everyday citizens who had rallied together for a cause that resonated across the nation.

With a tense look at each other, the remaining loyalist soldiers slowly laid down their weapons, one by one. A few even stepped forward, extending tentative hands toward the convoy, willing to join rather than resist. As the two groups mingled, a sense of shared purpose took hold, bridging the divide between them. The loyalist forces officially joined the convoy, their support bolstering the mission's strength as they prepared to move closer to the heart of Bratislava.

The convoy, now joined by an opposition faction wary but intrigued by this gathering, regrouped on the final approach into the city. The opposition members exchanged wary glances with Ivan and the others, clearly skeptical but equally drawn by the momentum. For all involved, this was a moment of decision—an unconventional, bold charge toward change that was nearing its culmination.

With the sights of Bratislava ahead and support swelling from all sides, the team could feel a new energy rising among them. Their long journey was finally nearing the decisive moment, and they were ready for whatever awaited them.

Chapter 16

As evening fell over Bratislava, the grandeur of the presidential palace was a stark contrast to the tension simmering inside. Behind heavy drapes, the country's top officials huddled by the windows, watching in horror as a massive column of military vehicles, trucks, and heavily armed units rolled into view. This was not the disorganized mob they had expected—it was a formidable force.

Ivan Tůma and his team, now firmly in control of most of the Slovak army, were leading columns of battalions, armored personnel carriers, and tanks toward the heart of the government. What had once been ordinary conscripts and reservists had defected, disgusted by the political scheming of the current regime. Alongside them marched civilians, workers, and students, all determined to seize justice directly at the gates of power.

In one of the palace’s salons, the Prime Minister watched with disbelief as the convoy approached. "This can't be happening," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the familiar insignias on several of the tank turrets. Beside him, a sweaty minister in an ill-fitted suit whispered anxiously, "How did they manage to get so much of our own equipment?"

“Maybe because it’s no longer our army—it’s theirs,” the Prime Minister replied through gritted teeth.

Outside, the elite Castle Guard, responsible for protecting the presidential palace, stood at the gates with an air of forced calm, braced for whatever approached. But as they saw the armored vehicles and columns of soldiers forming a battle-ready stance, some guards began to waver. Still, a small group of the most loyal guards held their ground, while Tůma’s forces, fearless and prepared, filled the courtyard.

Ivan stepped out of the Praga V3S, his expression resolute. His soldiers fired a round into the air—a message that they would not be dissuaded. That was the breaking point. Several Castle Guard members laid down their weapons and silently retreated into the palace. Tůma’s units, ready to take action at any moment, quickly flooded the grounds.

With a deep sigh, the Prime Minister realized there was no other option. Accompanied by a handful of loyal cabinet members, he stepped onto the palace courtyard to meet Ivan. As their eyes met, it was clear who held the power now.

“You’ve surrendered,” Ivan stated calmly, his words carrying an undeniable sense of finality.

The Prime Minister nodded, his expression one of exhaustion. “We have no other choice. You’re too strong, and most of our people have already joined you.”

Ivan nodded slightly in acknowledgment. “Exactly. So move to safety and leave Bratislava to us.”

In that moment, it was settled—Bratislava had fallen under the control of Ivan and his team. As the Prime Minister and his loyalists prepared to withdraw, deep within the palace, a few hardline members of the government refused to surrender. Huddled in secluded rooms, they whispered of resistance, unwilling to accept the sweeping changes Ivan represented.

The battle for Bratislava was over, but a hidden conflict was just beginning.

Chapter 17:

The capture of the Prime Minister sent shockwaves across the nation. Hauled out of the capital in disgrace, he was swiftly transported under armed escort to The Hague, where he would face trial for corruption, abuse of power, and a litany of charges that left no doubt: his era was over. His capture marked the turning point of the movement, galvanizing the people. What had begun as an organized coup morphed into a full-blown revolution, an unstoppable tide of defiance.

With Bratislava under Ivan Tůma's control, his forces turned their attention to rooting out the remnants of the regime, which clung to power through its grip on the state machinery. The coalition, still holding the reins of the media, public transportation, police, and SIS (Slovak Intelligence Service), was desperate to maintain a facade of control. From the safety of hidden offices and fortified government buildings, coalition loyalists flooded the airwaves with propaganda, labeling the resistance as a mob of extremists. But each broadcast only stoked the flames of rebellion, fueling a fire they had underestimated.

Meanwhile, Priscilla, ever resourceful and cunning, infiltrated the heart of the regime’s propaganda apparatus under the guise of a journalist. With a forged press badge and a practiced smile, she arranged an exclusive interview with none other than Andrej Danko. The coalition saw it as an opportunity to project strength to the public; Priscilla saw it as a chance to gather critical intel and subtly undermine their messaging.

The meeting took place in a secluded government safehouse, surrounded by a thick perimeter of military trucks and armed guards. Priscilla was the picture of composed professionalism, though her questions cut deeper with every response. Danko, under the spotlight, maintained his characteristic bravado, dismissing the uprising as “a temporary disturbance, a misguided revolt of a few unhappy citizens.” But behind him, through the narrow window, the truth was impossible to ignore.

An immense convoy rolled down the city’s main boulevard, stretching as far as the eye could see. Cars, trucks, armored vehicles, and countless furious citizens filled the streets, chanting and waving flags. Among them were factory workers, students, veterans, farmers, and a significant presence from the Hungarian minority, all united in defiance. They had one simple message: the time of corruption and empty promises was over.

The convoy was accompanied by the roar of engines and the sharp crack of defenestration—the medieval act of tossing officials out of windows had returned with a vengeance. Bureaucrats, bankers, and allies of the regime found themselves forced from their ivory towers, hurled into the streets by mobs that refused to tolerate even a whisper of loyalty to the fallen government. Documents flew from windows, littering the streets with evidence of corruption, as if the city itself were purging its own dark secrets.

As the convoy swelled, resistance members organized small squads, fanning out across the city to secure key points. The headquarters of state media, long a tool of government manipulation, was stormed by a group of dissidents, who quickly replaced propaganda broadcasts with live reports from the uprising. Police stations, too, were overwhelmed as officers either defected to the resistance or found themselves handcuffed and carted away. Transportation hubs were seized, communication lines cut, and soon the coalition realized they were isolated in a city that had turned on them.

Amid this chaos, Priscilla’s interview with Danko took on an even sharper tone. Danko, realizing that he was losing control over the narrative, grew defensive, brushing off her questions with hollow rhetoric about “preserving order.” But as they spoke, the deafening roar of the crowd grew louder, and he glanced nervously over his shoulder. The interview concluded, and Danko barely disguised his growing fear.

Outside, the surreal procession continued. Behind the tanks and trucks, ordinary Slovaks filled the streets in a bizarre but determined display of resistance. Sheep wandered loose—liberated from abandoned farms—while street vendors pushed carts laden with flags and hastily printed revolutionary pamphlets. A group of elderly women marched at the rear, waving hand-painted banners, their voices unwavering as they chanted slogans for freedom.

The streets of Bratislava became a theater of revolt, with makeshift barricades, crowds chanting defiance, and smoke rising from the occasional bonfire of shredded government documents. The SIS, ever the last bastion of loyalist power, scrambled to coordinate a counterattack. But even they were fractured; reports trickled in that defectors were sabotaging equipment, jamming communications, and leaking plans directly to Ivan's command. The SIS was crumbling from within, a hollow shell barely capable of resistance.

As night fell, Bratislava was no longer the capital of a government—it was the heart of a revolution. Ivan’s forces, now numbering in the thousands, established checkpoints at every major intersection, while the people transformed the city itself into a fortress. Local restaurants, long stifled by oppressive regulations, became improvised command centers, feeding soldiers and citizens alike, who were ready to defend every street, every square.

In the early hours of the morning, the coalition’s most loyal members gathered in a secret meeting room in the depths of the palace. From there, they crafted one last, desperate plan: an all-out assault on Ivan’s headquarters, intended to retake the capital by brute force. But even as they conspired, their every move was watched by Priscilla, whose covert transmissions fed Ivan’s team with invaluable information.

The next day, the battle began. Streets erupted in gunfire, echoing off the historic buildings as the coalition's loyalists clashed with resistance forces. Tanks, commandeered by defectors, rolled through intersections, clearing the way for waves of furious citizens. The last holdouts of the government fought desperately, knowing that surrender would mean the end of their careers—and possibly their lives.

In the end, the resistance proved unstoppable. As dawn broke over a liberated Bratislava, Ivan and Priscilla stood atop the steps of the presidential palace, overlooking a city transformed. The crowds below erupted in cheers, waving flags and chanting Ivan’s name. But both knew this victory was just the beginning.

The coalition may have been defeated, but their influence ran deep. Somewhere, in hidden rooms and darkened corridors, their loyalists plotted, refusing to let the revolution stand unchallenged. This was not just a battle for Bratislava; it was a battle for the soul of the nation, and the war was far from over.

Chapter 18:

With Bratislava liberated and the coalition vanquished, Ivan, Lara, Burkov, Adam, Priscilla, and Görgy—members of the Zero Agency—stood together as victors of an unprecedented mission. Their carefully orchestrated plan had ended in triumph, delivering Slovakia into the hands of a new, democratic, pro-European government. The people, weary from years of corruption and deception, rejoiced as the agency handed power over to a coalition of reformists, eager to rebuild the nation with integrity and openness.

For their part in the mission, the team received honors from the British Crown and formal praise from MI6. Ivan, the seasoned strategist, exchanged a solemn nod with the King, who expressed his admiration for the agency’s dedication to justice and order. Lara, the daring operative who had infiltrated countless strongholds, couldn’t hide her satisfaction as she listened to MI6’s commendations. The whole team, from Priscilla’s sharp wit to Burkov’s relentless precision, had left a lasting mark on this chapter of Slovak history.

With Slovakia now in capable hands, the team gathered at the Bratislava airport, ready to return home. They boarded the jet that had served as their mobile command center and, with a sense of accomplishment, set off for London. The mood on board was relaxed and celebratory. Görgy, the newest member of the team and proud Hungarian, gazed out of the window as Slovakia faded into the distance, a place he had come to know in all its complexity. London awaited him now, his new home, and he looked forward to beginning this new chapter with Zero Agency.

When they landed in London, they were greeted by friends and colleagues who had watched the mission unfold from afar. In the following days, Zero Agency members enjoyed a rare break from their usual covert operations. Ivan took the time to catch up with family, while Lara indulged in a few well-deserved luxuries around the city. Adam and Priscilla hit their favorite pubs, raising a toast to democracy, and Burkov, in his typically reserved fashion, retreated to his workshop to maintain the agency’s weapons and gadgets, already thinking of what improvements to make for their next mission.

Görgy, meanwhile, took his first steps into his new London life. For him, Zero Agency was more than a team—it was a family. Settling into his new quarters, he marveled at the change in scenery, trading the rolling hills of Hungary and the battlegrounds of Bratislava for the bustling streets of London. The city, a world of culture and history, was full of possibilities.

As they celebrated, the team members couldn’t help but reflect on the journey they had shared. They knew that while Slovakia was now free, their work would continue. The world was still full of corruption and power struggles, and Zero Agency would be there, in the shadows, ready to intervene wherever justice was needed.

For now, though, they allowed themselves to relax, savoring a rare moment of peace.

Epilogue

The cozy warmth of the London pub wrapped around the team like an old friend. The battered wood tables, the low hum of chatter, and the lingering smell of spilled ale were worlds away from the tense streets of Bratislava. Zero Agency was home. For now, they could set their missions aside and enjoy the simple pleasure of a pint.

They gathered around a corner table, crammed together in the most sociable huddle they could manage. Glasses clinked, laughter filled the air, and after all they’d been through, everyone was in high spirits.

Priscilla, ever the social spark, grinned at Görgy. "So, tell me, Görgy, what’s it like moving to London? Feeling ready to dive into the madness?"

Görgy took a hearty swig of his drink and chuckled, his Hungarian accent rolling off his words. "If this is what I have to look forward to, I think I’ll manage just fine," he said, holding his glass up to Priscilla. "But I’ll have to get used to the beer—this stuff is like water."

"Water?!" Adam sputtered, feigning offense. "This is a masterpiece, my friend. British beer is a tradition, a fine art! You’ll see—you just need to appreciate the subtle notes."

Burkov, smiling faintly, leaned in. "Adam’s talking as if he brewed it himself. Let him believe it, Görgy. It’s the small comforts we allow him."

Lara laughed, pulling her chair closer to Ivan’s. "Let him have his pride. Anyway, Görgy, London’s a strange place—everyone’s got their quirks. You’ll fit in just fine."

Ivan, always the understated type, had been quietly sipping his own drink, savoring the familiar atmosphere. But he reached into his coat, to the surprise of everyone except Görgy, and pulled out a well-worn bottle of Okena. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he poured a small amount into his glass and then Görgy’s.

"Cheers, Görgy. Now you’re one of us," Ivan said, lifting his glass solemnly.

The rest of the team stared, part in horror, part in fascination.

Adam squinted, puzzled. "Ivan, mate, isn’t that…window cleaner?"

Ivan shrugged, grinning, and Görgy raised his glass as if they were drinking the finest brandy in town. "In Czechoslovak military, it was… traditional."

Burkov chuckled, shaking his head. "It would be you two."

Priscilla tried to hide her laughter behind her hand. "I mean, when in Rome—though I think I’ll stick with my whiskey, thank you."

Lara laughed, nudging Ivan. "Oh, darling, if you die from that, I’m not explaining it to your family."

Ivan took a sip, undeterred. "Family would understand. Besides, Görgy, here, appreciates the finer things."

Görgy nodded solemnly, playing along. "Absolutely. It’s a fine vintage, very…cleansing."

The whole table burst into laughter, with Priscilla almost spilling her drink in her fit of giggles.

"Alright, alright," Adam said, wiping a tear from his eye. "You two have your fun with that ‘drink,’ but if we’re celebrating, I’ll stick to the usual. Here’s to Zero Agency—and our newest family member." He raised his glass to Görgy. "Welcome to the madness."

The table erupted in cheers, and everyone lifted their glasses. Görgy looked around, taking in the warmth and camaraderie. For the first time, he truly felt at home.

"To family," Görgy said, clinking his glass with Ivan’s once more.

The night wore on with more laughter, stories, and drinks. Burkov shared tales from his schooldays, Priscilla talked about her designs, Adam spun wild stories that no one quite believed, and Lara recounted her and Ivan’s past adventures with affection and humor. Even Ivan, who rarely shared much, found himself caught up in the moment, giving his own version of their escapades with his dry, understated wit.

By the time they finally staggered out of the pub, arms slung around each other, they had left behind more than just the remnants of a historic mission. They’d forged something stronger: a bond that would see them through whatever came next.

As they walked down the quiet London streets, Ivan and Görgy exchanged one last conspiratorial glance, each of them knowing that in this team—this family—they had found exactly where they belonged.