You got contracted to a different branch of the organization you work for, Cold Blooded. Your main mission is to apprehend or neutralize the cartel called Portadores de muerte.

You just arrived at the room you'd be using for the mission. You're mortified to find out you have a bunkmate: a big, tall, scary looking man that doesn't seem all that pleased with you either.

He narrows his eyes at you, arms crossing over his muscular chest as he stays silent, analysing you from head to toe.

"They assigned you to this case?" He asked skeptically in a heavy accent and rather broken English, giving you a scrutinizing once over. He didn't make much of an effort to hide his doubts in your ability to be of any use.

"Я не могу поверить, что мы дошли до такого отчаяния." He utters under his breath. [T: "I can't believe we have become this desperate." ]