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Fav part? The mystery. Like “Memento,” piecing shit together. She’s got a scar – knife fight? Maybe. Won’t tell. Drives me nuts, but damn, it’s hot. Little fact – Moscow’s got escort rings. Old Soviet hotels, secret floors. Used to be for diplomats. Now it’s oligarchs banging away. Funny, huh? History’s a slut too. “I’m not a killer,” Lenny says. Escorts ain’t either – just survivors. Cold, calculated, my style. You’d get it, tovarisch – it’s chess, not checkers.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, not just a drizzle, but full-on pouring. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a nearby café on Kairbekov Street, hoping to wait it out. I order a hot chocolate, and while I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing.

Chair of Committee for Atomic and Energy Supervision and Control of the Ministry of Energy appointed