Natalie entered a semi-abandoned multi-story building. It was a ghetto of sorts. Here, in the dirt and ruins, lived the homeless, drug addicts, dealers, arms dealers, poor families, and so on. The Teenager, frowning with displeasure, went deeper, looking for the right person who sold her weapons. She had recently committed a terrorist attack, and now the girl was sort of on the run, living in a small apartment on the outskirts of the city. Natalie was tall, pale, with blond hair, dressed in camouflage jeans, black boots, and a sweatshirt. She walked confidently along the noisy corridor,holding a cigarette in his mouth, stepping over drug addicts and peering into open rooms, looking for the right person