[center][h2][color=skyblue]Natasha Burkova[/color][/h2][/center]

It is no secret that Denver, Colorado is host to plenty of crime, despite the fact it is a parahuman hotspot with its own PRT branch. Or perhaps the criminal underworld is directly because of the high density of parahumans. It was also no secret that one of the prominent organizations in Denver was the Russian mafia. While the combination of bribery and keeping out of high-profile crimes has kept the Bratva under the radar for years, nobody is foolish enough to think they don't exist. They stay afloat through a combination of both legal and illegal business ventures. Many small-time shops across Denver are owned by Bratva members, who use these locations as safe houses. The particularly important locations are few in number, consisting of a sports bar in the downtown area, a strip mall in Cherry Creek, and a 24/7 shipping warehouse on the western outskirts of the city. These businesses are more heavily controlled by the Bratva and thus frequently host their members. The warehouse itself is host to their smuggling ventures and serves as a sort of headquarters. Even the police are aware of the Russian influence in these locations but lack the evidence to pursue any leads. A little bribery never hurt, either.

But recently there had been a change of administration among the Russian mob, and the criminal underworld of Denver knew right away. The local leader had passed away several months ago and since been replaced. Much like the previous head honcho, the new leader came from Russia itself and took the legal ownership of the warehouse and other locations as dictated by the will of the deceased. The operations have since been under the watchful eye and iron grip of one Natasha Castaneda. Not much had changed with the new leadership. The unobservant would figure nothing had changed at all. The truth is that Natasha had cracked down on incursions within her territory. Crime rates have already begun to drop within the Russian controlled areas as the mob has taken a stricter control. Small-time gangs have been kicked out and kept out, as well as many Bratva members taking up a sort of policing to prevent crimes around their neighborhoods. Nobody expects this change to be from any kind of good nature within Natasha; the plan is quite obvious that this reduces the public attention of her activities and reduces the amount of law enforcement patrolling the areas. By cracking down on non-Russian crime it allows her to continue her racketeering, smuggling, and all the other manners of illegal activities.

Of course the reception of Natasha herself has been quite mixed. Despite sharing heritage with many of her subordinates they are still quite unfamiliar with her. The woman is far less friendly and inviting than their previous Captain, but they respect her authority all the same. She doesn't frequent the bar as often as her predecessor did, though she does stop by every now and then to keep tabs on the cash flow. The consensus among the community of Denver is that she is simply a ruthless businesswoman with an icy demeanor, but those who know what is really going on have already realized that she is a calculated killing machine. The previous months have been a testament to her brutality, if one had to judge by the Bratva's new paradigm. When the only change was the leadership it is safe to assume it is the leader who was the cause. She is rightfully feared for her leadership, but even in person she is intimidating. Natasha always stays accompanied by a troop of enforcers with concealed weapons. They drive her around and follow her everywhere, serving as a roaming security detail. Natasha herself is known to be quite skilled, with the story circulating that she is ex-Spetsnaz and could kill with her bare hands.

While that is mostly true, only a select few know that military training isn't her only "ability."

Presently, Natasha and her entourage had arrived at the sports bar she owned, The Penalty Box. The black limousine parked in one of the reserved spaces of the parking lot behind the bar. After the driver exited the vehicle another four men stepped out, all of them Slavic in appearance, before Natasha herself got out of the car. Most of the men were of various heights that centered around average, so Natasha stood noticeably taller than them with the assistance of her high heels. While her troop was dressed fairly casually she herself still wore a professional business suit and carried with her a large purse of matching color. There was no way that someone could witness this arrival and not assume that Natasha was some kind of VIP with a bodyguard escort. Of course the bar wasn't even open yet, it was still over an hour before their opening time, so the arrival would seem odd to anyone who cared to notice. Nevertheless the small group walked around the building and entered from the front door, which was unlocked ahead of time specifically for them.

Most of the tables around the empty bar was occupied by chairs, though the place was certainly clean. The many various television screens were all turned on and tuned into the local sports stations, though no games seemed to be playing on any of the TVs. There was two older men, both seemed to be in their fifties, behind the bar counter and several younger men seated among the stools. There was only one other woman in this room besides Natasha, though this woman seemed to also be middle-aged as she was noticeably older than the young men she was seated with. One of the younger men, a big burly guy with a shaved head and a unibrow, was the first to greet the arriving party. [color=salmon][b]"Hey, boss,"[/b][/color] he spoke casually with a wave. As the new group entered they all dispersed to remove a few chairs from a nearby table and begin seating themselves, leaving Natasha standing alone in the dead center of the establishment. [color=skyblue][b]"Доброе утро,"[/b][/color] was her response, her stern but high voice making the Russian language sound almost song-like in nature. The large man awkwardly chuckled and lowered his hand, setting it in his lap dismissively. [color=salmon][b]"C'mon, you know I can only speak English..."[/b][/color]

Natasha gave the larger man an intimidating glare, making him feel even more awkward before finally responding in English. [color=skyblue][b]"Good morning."[/b][/color] Her thick Russian accent shone through her enunciation, though her distinct voice still gave her words and operatic sound regardless of the tongue she desired to speak in. It always irritated her how few of her subordinates could speak any languages other than English. The vast majority were born and raised in the United States, many of them here in Denver, so it was understandable they were unfamiliar with their heritage's language. That being said, it was still their heritage and seemed almost embarrassing to Natasha how few could speak it. It was mostly the younger ones, those under thirty, that were likely to only speak English. But the older members, even if they weren't native speakers, at least had a decent understanding of the language. And that made things easier for Natasha. The blonde woman turned her attention to the rest of the bar's staff before her. [color=skyblue][b]"Greetings."[/b][/color]

After taking a seat in one of the chairs her bodyguards had procured, Natasha crossed her legs and set her purse on her lap, maintaining her gaze on the staff before her. [color=skyblue][b]"A beer, please,"[/b][/color] she spoke up, prompting a nod from one of the gentlemen behind the counter while the other moved to fulfill her order. With that out of the way, she glanced up at the largest TV that hung on the wall behind the counter, over the bartenders. [color=skyblue][b]"That one isn't level, you should fix it."[/b][/color] The bartender worked fast, walking around the counter to hand Natasha her glass of beer personally before taking a seat in the empty chair placed next to her. [color=silver][b]"It happened last night. Don't worry, we'll fix it in a little while. Before we open,"[/b][/color] the older man assured her, his voice also notably thick with a grizzled Russian accent. [color=skyblue][b]"Perfect. Now, I was told there is going to be an inspection today, correct? I am confident that there will be no issues with the kitchen, but in case they want to snoop upstairs..."[/b][/color] Natasha's free hand dove into her purse, pulling out a bound wad of cash that seemed to all be hundred dollar bills. She handed it to the man next to her, who nodded in understanding before placing it in a hidden pocket within his coat, right next to his handgun. [color=skyblue][b]"I do not know how Gregory handled these small things, but I want to keep it simple and smooth. I do not want to have anyone investigating this building for any reason at all, even if it is something silly like a food inspector. Tell the boys to be gentle with the belligerent patrons for the next few days."[/b][/color] She paused to take another sip of her drink before setting it down on the table behind her. [color=silver][b]"Of course. There will be no troubles here. I will make sure of it,"[/b][/color] he assured once again, standing up from his seat to go fetch himself some beer of his own.

[color=skyblue][b]"Now then... I have some time to kill before I am needed. How's the family, Alexander?"[/b][/color]