Inside a former Russian military warehouse.
“Is the inventory complete, comrade?” an old Russian colonel asked. He was once a commisar during the Cold War, and after the fall of the Iron Curtain, he had transitioned to the regular army and made it up the chain of command until he offended a general and was posted out of the way in a desolate ammunition storage warehouse in Siberia.
“Yes, sir!” The former soldier snapped to attention and saluted the old colonel, handing him a folder containing the detailed inventory listing. “The stores have been tallied and logged.”
The colonel took the folder and opened it to the last page. He glanced at the total number and signed his name at the bottom, approving the final tally of ammunition in the warehouse. “Prepare for the handover process,” he ordered with a complex expression on his face. Despite how it ended, his career had been glorious, once, but what began with a roar was destined to end with a whimper.