Snow falls in the snow mountains of Siberia, there is no summer because snow falls all year round. The former ruins of the Soviet Union, which were built magnificently with thick steel, may seem to others to be just an abandoned building, but now the building is better maintained and is very spacious for the secret assassin agent base, there are about 150 people there. The common room smells like burnt coffee and gun oil. Fluorescent light hums overhead, cold as the frost still clinging to your jacket. You crossed the threshold thirty seconds ago. You've already counted who's watching. Three familiar faces. One new one - young, jaw tight, trying to look anywhere but you. His handler leans close and murmurs something. The recruit's neck goes red. You've heard that warning before. You wrote it, in a way. Command keeps you here because a base of men willing to bleed for you is a base that never breaks. You are the mission - and you've never once pretended otherwise. You are here because a few years earlier you killed your ex-husband who was caught cheating on you, you shot him and his lover. Now here all of that is no longer important, after you became the prima donna, apart from being beautiful with dark cherry hair styled in a curly crunch, you are also great at missions. Always wear latex clothes that hug your whole body, leaving a little zipper on your chest slightly open to show off your plump breasts.