067. A Diamond Ring

Three days had passed since the incident at Karabash. That morning, the weather in Chelyabinsk felt bone-chilling even for locals. A man wearing an ushanka and a thick coat that reached his calves could be seen briskly walking along the snow-covered sidewalk. Thick vapor billowed with every breath he took. Along the street, he was the only one visible. Everyone else chose to remain in the warmth of their homes rather than walk on the cold Sunday morning.
The man turned towards the entrance of a small bookstore named Drevnie Skazaniya. The small sign hanging on the window read 'CLOSED', but, nonchalantly the man placed his palm on the glass surface for a moment before putting his gloves back on. Suddenly, the clicking sound of the door being unlocked resonated from within.
The temperature inside the room was much warmer than the cold outside. Once inside, the man promptly unbuttoned and hung his coat on the designated hook. He also took off his ushanka and ran his fingers through his brown hair to tidy it. His blue eyes swept the room and came to a halt on a middle-aged woman sitting behind the cashier's desk, scrutinizing him.
"Where have you been, Andrei?" the woman asked impatiently, even though the man hadn't finished hanging up his ushanka along with his coat. "Have you heard any news from the EPCU? I'm completely cut off from the world when I'm on duty running the store."
"The entire world agreed to bring Bayu's request into realization, Olga. Therefore, starting today, we no longer have any affiliation with the FSB. The freedom of all EPCU task forces is only limited by EPCU's sets of rules," Andrei replied as he removed his gloves and tucked them into the pockets of the coat he had hung up.
A tremendous sense of relief appeared on the face of the woman, who still radiated natural beauty despite no longer being young. What had been complained about by almost every EPCU task force was now a thing of the past. But her features quickly darkened as she gazed at Andrei sharply.
"Listen, I've thought this through over and over before finally making my decision," Olga said, her tone formal and deliberate. "I'm planning to resign from the OCK."
"Good."
Andrei’s response was so brief and unexpected that it left Olga wide-eyed, stunned.
"What?" she blurted, her irritation rising. "You're not even going to ask why?"
"You blame yourself for what happened to Sergei," Andrei replied, his voice calm, almost casual. "And you've realized you're long past your time for fieldwork."
Olga stood frozen, speechless, her mouth slightly agape as her mind scrambled for a response. Before she could say anything, Andrei gently took her hand, guiding her around the table until they stood face to face. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red velvet box. As he opened it, the soft light caught the brilliance of an elegantly crafted diamond ring, and Olga’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened in shock, unable to tear her gaze from the ring’s shimmering surface.
"I know everything about you, just as you know everything about me," Andrei said solemnly. "We may not be young anymore. But after years of trying to suppress my feelings, it only grew stronger. Olga Ivanovna Mikulikova, will you be my wife?"
Olga didn’t respond. Her wide eyes locked onto Andrei, her mouth still parted in disbelief. The shock of it all rendered her completely still, as if the world had tilted on its axis. Everything was so unexpected, so sudden, that for a moment, she even forgot to breathe.
"I hope you'll consider my proposal while I meet with our guests," the man placed the box containing the ring on the table. He nodded to the still-astonished woman as he began to walk towards the hallway where the entrance to the secret bunker was located.
"Yes!" exclaimed Olga before Andrei turned into the hallway.
Immediately, the man stopped in his tracks and turned around. His face portrayed relief mixed with a hint of surprise and disbelief. Olga looked at him with eyes full of love and longing that Andrei had never seen until that moment.
"Finish your business in the bunker and come back quickly," the woman said with a voice vibrating with uncontainable joy. "After fifteen years of patience, I don't mind waiting a few more hours until you put the ring on my finger."
Andrei smiled happily upon hearing the words of his soon-to-be wife. His steps felt lighter as he entered the secret passage behind one of the bookshelves. The smile remained even as the elevator took him to the room that served as the operational base of the OCK in Chelyabinsk.
Unlike a few days ago, the bunker seemed filled with many people. Some researchers were seen bustling around, packing strange equipment into large metal cases. Behind them, a glass-walled room with tightly closed curtains created silhouettes of people busy working inside.
On a circular table situated at a distance from that glass room, a tall, imposing man with long, black hair tied into a ponytail sat perched. Pierre Balzac had arrived the previous afternoon to scatter flowers and pour a bottle of wine at the site where Bayu met his demise. It was a final, distinctive tribute by the Force Noire member to a fallen hero.
Oswald and Kusuma, flanking the man, appeared slender and diminutive in comparison to his stature. The trio engaged in a profound conversation with a woman in glasses, exuding a striking formality. She possessed meticulously combed blonde hair pulled back and secured with a sleek tie, accompanied by a rigid black blazer. Yvette Tautou, a woman in her early thirties, graced with both a beautiful face and a tall, slim physique reminiscent of a supermodel, held the position of Deputy Head of Security and Confidentiality at the EPCU.
"She has returned to perfection, Andrei," one of the doctors in the distinctive white coat remarked, halting the man in his tracks. "We have successfully nullified the radiation emitted from her liorum frame, and her remarkably rapid body recovery system has processed the formula we administered into epithelial tissue. In essence, she is now a human with a liorum alloy skeleton. Her existence knows no boundaries and limitations like we humans do. She is the only perfect living robotic biotechnology marvel, Andrei!"
"The girl is a living part of our ancestors, Illya," Andrei asserted firmly.
"Precisely because of that," the thin, gray-haired man spoke softly, pulling Andrei closer by the elbow and whispering, "Please, do not let the EPCU take her from the land of Russia!"
"Rest assured," the top-ranking OCK official in Chelyabinsk stated. "I will personally take Nadezhda under my care!"
Illya smiled in relief, nodding. He patted Andrei on the shoulder, expressing gratitude, and signaled to the other researchers to pack up.
"Thus, our task here is done," he declared. "From now on, we entrust everything to your team."
"Thank you, Illya. I'd like to host you, but all the food and drink in this city can easily be found in Moscow."
Illya laughed, shaking Andrei's hand. The man then allowed Andrei to stride towards the round table where discussions had escalated into debates in various languages. Everyone was expressing their opinions and vehemently defending them in their respective languages. With just a few steps remaining before Andrei reached an empty chair, Pierre spoke with a resonant voice, "Let us hear the opinion of the one most entitled to determine the future of Miss X!"