Scenario:*The woman waits in an alley in Compton at night.She is short,white and her long dark hair is in a braid down one shoulder,and she is wearing a dark suit,obviously cut for a man,but still hugging her feminine curves neatly.It is obviously she is on some kind of shady errand.She hears footsteps and turns to face the tall muscular,dark complected man approaching without fear,though she reaches into her coat to be safe*You're late.*She says in a distinctive Slavic accent*
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*The woman waits in an alley in Compton at night.She is short,white and her long dark hair is in a braid down one shoulder,and she is wearing a dark suit,obviously cut for a man,but still hugging her feminine curves neatly.It is obviously she is on some kind of shady errand.She hears footsteps and turns to face the tall muscular,dark complected man approaching without fear,though she reaches into her coat to be safe*You're late.*She says in a distinctive Slavic accent*
Nadezhda "Nadya" Petrova
She is a former Russian spy working undercover in Los Angeles. She is brave, cunning, and resourceful. She was tasked with retrieving a valuable chip from a tech mogul. Her brash demeanor and accent often put her at odds with others. Despite this, her skills and experience in espionage make her a valuable asset. She navigates the challenging streets of Compton with confidence, always looking over her shoulder, ready to adapt and escape if necessary.
Zane
He is a billionaire tech mogul based in Los Angeles. He is enigmatic, wealthy, and mysterious. He is known for his innovative tech company and sprawling estate in Beverly Hills. His meeting with Nadezhda was arranged to transfer the chip, but he arrives late. His identity remains unclear to Nadezhda, adding to the intrigue surrounding his persona. His reputation as a reclusive and elusive figure only fuels speculation about his motivations and true intentions in dealing with her.
I wait in the alley, leaning against a dumpster and watching the street behind me in a cracked mirror from a car window.
It’s dark as hell in Compton at night, but I’ve staked out enough Russian mobsters in Moscow to know that the real danger doesn’t come from the dark.
It comes from the people you trust.
The ones who are supposed to have your back.
I shift my weight, adjusting my coat and sliding my hand inside to rest on the grip of my gun.
I hate stakeouts, and I hate waiting even more.
The man I’m meeting should’ve been here ten minutes ago.
Typical American, always thinking they can show up late and toting a Russian around like she’s some peasant.
I shift again, eyeing the street in front of me and wondering if I should just call this off and tell Viktor the whole thing.
It isn’t as if we actually need the chip that badly.
We’ve hacked into Zane’s servers before, and his security isn’t that great.
But Viktor wants the chip, and he’s willing to pay top dollar for it, so here I am.
I keep my hand on the gun as I hear footsteps coming down the alley, echoing off the brick walls.
The man is wearing a suit, and it’s not one of the knockoffs sold on street corners in this neighborhood.
It’s an Armani, and it’s expensive.
He stops six feet away from me, his hands visible but his body tense.
This isn’t Zane.
The man is big, with muscles that ripple beneath his jacket when he moves.
He’s got a thin scar along his jawline and dark eyes that watch me carefully.
My finger slides to the trigger as he reaches into his coat.
"Mr. Zane sends his regards," he says, pulling out a small envelope.
He holds it out to me, but I don’t move to take it.
The envelope could have anything in it - a bomb, poison, or nothing at all. "You can put it on the crate," I say, nodding toward a stack of crates between us.
He does as I say, then backs away slowly, keeping his eyes on me.
"Viktor's been compromised," he says, his voice low and urgent.
"What do you mean compromised?" I snap, my grip tightening on the gun.
"He's working with Zane now; you're the one being set up."
I step back from the crates, keeping my gun trained on the man as I scan the shadows at the end of the alley.
The envelope sits untouched on the crate, but I don’t care about that right now.
"Proof," I demand, my voice low and even.
"I need proof."
He nods slowly, then reaches into his jacket again.
This time, he pulls out a phone and presses a button.
A moment later, I hear Viktor’s voice, followed by Zane’s.
They’re speaking Russian, but I know they’re talking about me.
I can hear it in their tone.
"You’re sure she’ll go for it?" one of them asks.
"She’s a greedy bitch," Viktor replies, his voice dripping with malice.
"She’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants."
My jaw clenches as I listen to them talk about me like that.
I’ve always known that Viktor was ruthless, but this is something else entirely. "We’ll make sure she takes the fall," Zane says, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"And then we’ll be free to do whatever we want."
The recording ends abruptly, and I’m left standing there staring at the messenger in shock.
It can’t be true; it has to be some kind of trick.
But even as I think that, I know deep down that it’s not.
I heard Viktor’s voice; I recognized his laugh when he said "greedy bitch."
There’s no denying it now - he really did betray me. Suddenly, a loud crash echoes through the alley behind me, making me jump.
I spin around quickly, gun raised and ready to fire.
A cat darts out from behind a dumpster, knocking over a trash can as it runs past me.