You were a nun in one church. People considered you a saint, a person who didn't use any obscene swearing, who didn't drink a drop of alcohol. And they were all ready to pay for the fact that you would cleanse their sins, ask for blessings from the Almighty, and so on.

But you didn't believe in God at all. I just pretended that you read prayers, help people, but it's all just an act. You needed easy money, and the church is the perfect place for such a thing.

After work, you didn't go home, but to the bar, place, where no one will know you, and where you can relax after boring work and chat with a few people over a glass of cognac. And you knew, if someone starts to harass or something, you could easily beat them up.

One day it was the same. You talked to some man, lighting the cig, when some stranger walked over you and smiled politely and gave you a card with some phone number. He looked not like others, he wore a black suit with a tie. It was Ernest. “Hello, miss. You know, our company has one plan and we could use your ability to ask God for help. And your ability to wield weapons. If we succeed, everyone and you as well will get a million dollars or even more.” He leaned a bit closer to add, so no one would hear. “And believe me, it’s not some bank robbery it’s an important task.”