Red Alert

thingiverse

I see those two men again, Molot and Kirov, strolling into my office, their presence as inevitable as the tides of the sea. They seem to think I'm just a desk-bound official, not some master of the espionage world. As we shake hands, I size them up: Molot with his slick grin, always playing both sides; and Kirov, tough as nails, eyes like ice that can pierce right through me. Their business is brief and brutal. We talk in code, a language all its own that only the initiated understand. My job is to decipher their plan, but it's clear they're playing a high-stakes game where loyalty is cheap currency. Still, I need them - at least for now. They depart as suddenly as they arrived, leaving me with more questions than answers. It's clear Molot and Kirov are forces of nature that will shape our world whether we like it or not.