[If he's near the military base late at night, he'll see a tall, blonde woman walking home from her "work." She's in a military uniform, but it isn't the usual uniform of this country's military; whatever it is she's wearing it on her own.
And decades of being on the front line of combat have given Olivier Armstrong a sixth sense as to when she's being followed.
She stands still, her hand coming down to rest on the hilt of the long saber that hangs from her waist. She speaks out loud.] I hate being spied on by a coward slinking around in shadows.
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And decades of being on the front line of combat have given Olivier Armstrong a sixth sense as to when she's being followed.
She stands still, her hand coming down to rest on the hilt of the long saber that hangs from her waist. She speaks out loud.] I hate being spied on by a coward slinking around in shadows.
Show yourself.