OCTOBER 12, 1964.....Moscow, Russia (12 октября 1964.....Москва)

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The rain poured heavily from the dark, mournful skies above the Soviet Union, drops trickling down the thick black leather of her long overcoat and spattering against the wide brimmed hat that adorned her head. "It is finished....." She whispered amidst a crack of thunder and a haunting wisp of white smoke exhaled from her shimmering ruby lips, the end result of a cigarette she lit in victory of her virtuous mission. Brennestein, that coward, now he lay dead in a pool of his own blood on the eighth floor of that damned hotel, and pried from his frail, lifeless hands.......was one hell of an atom bomb. A figurative atom bomb, mind you, for while the US and the USSR were racing neck and neck for nuclear deterrence, Brennestein had in his possession the most powerful weapon of all. It could either end the Cold War.....or begin the next great and bloody conflict, guaranteed to wipe humanity off the face of the globe. When the woman first witnessed the confidential documents, her eyes were wide with absolute astonishment. This was profound, a feat to even rival the Manhattan Project or the great Space Race......it was just what they needed. Finishing her cigarette, the woman receded into the darkness. In a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder.....she vanished without a trace, only the hotel staff and Brennestein's personal guards shouting, "Davai! Davai!" But she was certain in the act of pilfering Brennestein's tireless research, nabbing such valuable and volatile intelligence, she had made herself a target, not just to Russia but to America as well. Nearly every person in the world would be gunning for her head. "Oh well..." She snickered, willing to accept the challenge. "Let them come...."

Aiden took a long drag from his cigarette, then took it from his lips, holding it loosely between his index and middle finger. He blew the smoke slowly, bringing the cigarette down to the ashtray and then taking his cup of coffee. It was a lazy morning in East Berlin and he had plenty of time before he had to head in to work. His cover was simple enough, working as an accounting auditor for several banks worldwide. It was a job that allowed him freedom of movement, a reason to have to travel frequently into soviet-controlled territories and an even easier way to meet with important figures and other agents while on the field. He finished his coffee before long and then sighed, deciding to head in early and see if there were any messages for him. They would be heavily coded, so he would need some time to decode them. Then he could do some of his fake work to kill time. He was sure there wasn't going to be anything interesting going on in the world at the moment... or at least interesting for him.

Two hours later, inside the filing office of one of the Barclays branch offices in East Berlin, he groaned and rubbed between his eyes. The paper he held on his hand held very important and interesting words. His day was about to get much more agitated than usual. He closed the folder in front of him, then took the papers with the coded message and the decoded one and burned them thoroughly before standing up and walking to the desk of the branch manager. "I'll need to leave. There are some strange transactions towards the Moscow branch office that I need to look into." He said, then turned around and left without letting the manager get a word in.

In a small hotel in Moscow, Kurtis is looking out of a hotel window, staring at the empty street below. He moves his head back into the room, taking a look around. His hotel room isn’t the prettiest room, a small wooden chair, a table, a bed, pretty basic. He looks at the empty table which has a file folder on it. He spends some time looking at the file before finally slowly going over, takes the chair and sits down at the table and stares at it. It’s marked CIA, classified and top-secret.

A couple of minutes later, Kurtis closes the file folder without even taking a single look inside the file. He stands up on both legs, walks firmly towards the window and continues his earlier task, staring out of the window at the empty street below.

She felt the cold American breeze against her skin.. This was the feeling she liked as she did her work but she know she was going to be called out to another mission later, she was standing in a crowd of people, she just sighed and waited

Vasily Konyakov looked at the blood stains of the apartment floor as the crime scene analysts took photos of it. Vasily was given the assignment of looking into the murder of former Nazi, now Soviet agent Karlof Brennstein who was murdered in cold blood in apartment on July 5th. Who had done it remained a mystery as they seemed to be a expert in this line of work and not some ordinary hired thug. What was even harder was the fact that Brennestein had alot of enemies, after all Nazi's were never the most popular of people and Vasily had come to realise over the years that scientists could and most certainly would get dirty for the sake of science, and that probably means that he was working on something, and knowing the Germans probably something big.