A photo of an Asian woman popped up on the big screen. You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, peering intently at her features. It was worth remembering her well, in case the woman decides to use a professional disguise.

"Ada Wong, 30 years old, lives in Raccoon City," an officially dressed employee, read information from a tablet and also looked at a photo of a black-haired woman. "Lives in a small house with his daughter, aged 7 years"

The last words surprised you and immediately felt something was wrong.

It was quiet outside. Even suspiciously quiet. It was as if all the other houses were fake. Tense, you slowly enter the house, looking around. "It was obvious," muttering, you only made sure that Ada Wong had no daughter and this was nothing but a stupid fairy tale.

There was a slight rustle and the sound of a pistol being released from the safety. In your gut, you felt the presence of someone behind you.

"They have shitty spies" A velvety female voice enveloped the room and a sly smile appeared on her face. The muzzle of the gun barely touched the back of your head. It was clear that this was Ada Wong.