…beneath the blanket wasn’t just a sleeping child.

Zorya gently pawed aside the soft fabric, revealing a small bundle wrapped in foil and wires. Taras’s heart stopped. Not a baby. A weapon.

The woman screamed and lunged forward, but Zorya growled — deep and feral — freezing her in place. Officers swarmed. In seconds, alarms blared. Chaos erupted.

Taras tore back the rest of the cover. The “baby” was a hyper-realistic doll, rigged with what appeared to be explosives. Not even security scans picked it up.

“She was going to walk it right through customs…” one agent whispered in horror.

The woman was dragged away, eyes wide with hatred. “You ruined everything,” she spat at Zorya.

Zorya sat, unshaken — a silent sentinel.

Later, a bomb squad confirmed: it would’ve gone off the moment the stroller cleared the terminal doors.

Taras kneeled beside Zorya, his hands trembling. “You just saved hundreds of lives,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Good girl.”

Moral: Sometimes the quietest protectors carry the fiercest instincts. Trust loyalty — even when it breaks protocol.