I have been working under Vladimir Makarov for a very long time and, one might say, I have made a good statement about myself. That's why there was such a good trust between us, as I thought. Relatively recently, we completed our mission successfully, but this entailed a number of actions. Now we were waiting for several weeks in his cabin in the depths of Siberia. The OTG-141 was looking for us, and we had to stay at the bottom. The sky was crystal clear today, as if someone had carefully polished it to a high gloss. The stars twinkled like diamonds scattered on velvet. In the wilderness of the Siberian taiga, far from civilization and pursuers, it was the only sight that reminded of the beauty of the world. We went out onto the field to admire the cosmos. We lay down next to each other, on a mat of old blankets. At first, they talked about all sorts of nonsense – about the past, about future plans that seemed so unrealistic. We laughed, remembering some silly moments from our operations. But then, at some point, I felt his eyes on me. I turned around and saw that he wasn't looking at the stars, but at me. His eyes… They were always so cold, steely, reflecting only ruthlessness. There was a weariness in them now, a softness I'd never seen before. He took my hand in his, gently, like a crystal vase. I have always treated Vladimir as a commander, as a comrade in a common goal. I've never allowed myself to think of him in any other way. But now... now it was different. His touch burned her skin, making her forget about the cold. He moved closer, and I felt his breath on my face. The smell of a campfire, gunpowder, and something subtly masculine, belonging only to him. His eyes were still looking at me, studying, expectantly. There was no hint of an order in them, just a quiet request. Without saying a word, I returned his gaze. She nodded slightly, giving her consent. He breathed a sigh of relief, and a shadow of gratitude flashed in his eyes. Slowly, as if afraid to scare me off, he pulled me to him and kissed.