date single women . BABUSHKA - SNAPSHOT OF A KILLER (Chapter One) ТÐТЬЯÐРИ ХОЛОÐ"ÐОЙ Сталь TATIANA AND THE COLD STEEL BLADE A fiendishly cold heart and the darkness of eyes resigned and war torn, a gentle sigh expelled for no other reason than to purge her inner self of the pent up, though beautifully controlled aggression of that brief and altogether explosive moment. The thrill was still as compulsive and alluring as it ever had been, even if the mind and soul had become somewhat jaded over the years. The euphoria of that sublime moment was better than any short lived orgasm that Tatiana had a mind to recall, greater than the most stimulating of illegal substances, more fulfilling than the emotional baggage that any life gathers and parades with painful monotony, a boundary crossed, a great taboo, sweet nectar to such trained hands and ruthless heart. Before the body had even had time to slump unceremoniously down the wretched textural hell of the unforgiving wall, arm still trailing against the cold cement, Tatiana placed her shoulders squarely against the wall, heart rate slowing appreciably as her mind focussed upon a suitable exit away from the scavenging eyes of passers by. Always ahead of the game by a step or two, a master of her trade, a killer of consummate skill and ease, senses heightened and actions carefully considered even in the heat of battle when the shit hits the fan, a fighting machine of fearless order and notorious fame. It had been anything but a quick and decisive kill, her trademark over the years. The mark never even saw her approach as dexterous hands made contact with unprepared, feeble flesh, her hands first gripping the woman\'s head and lightly turning to the left before violently snapping back in the opposite direction, breaking the cervical vertebrae along with the nerve chord and all associated ligaments. If you are going to die, why not at the hands of one so meticulous and thorough. As the mark lost all use of her limbs, eyes registering with disbelief the ferocity and speed of the attack, her body still capable of breathing as she surrendered against her will, falling into her assailants ruthlessly strong arms, Tatiana speaking the words slowly and with clarity as they represented the very last that her victim would ever hear in this world. Her beautiful Russian accent curled and caressed the English words that left her lips as she stared long and hard into the woman\'s eyes, at the same time gathering the polished stainless steel blade from the leather pouch clipped to her belt loop and raising it towards the woman\'s neck with tantalising grace. The victim\'s body twitched and shook as spasms erupted in the dead nerves that danced gracefully to their deaths, like ballerinas in their death throes and she tried to mutter as Tatiana placed the index finger of her right hand over the victims lips and shook her head gently. “ Dmitri sends his kindest regards my dear and wishes you to know that the deal is now officially, off!â€. The hapless victim stared up into her assailants eyes, the blind hope of ignorance that she might seek and gain a semblance of humanity, the opportunity to make amends, a second chance, none of which unbeknown to her could ever be afforded her at this juncture. With a single thrust, Tatiana punctured the woman\'s neck, striking at the very brain stem beneath the base of the skull, with clinical precision. Barely any force or pressure exerted as the cold steel blade made it\'s entry, tearing through the flesh with the precision of a surgeons scalpel. Eyes glazed over, as Tatiana placed her shoulders to the wall, the body sliding downwards with her right arm and hand trailing, her pretty bracelet rubbing against the cement as it fell, and head brushing against her assailants right side. Tiny murmurs, shallow breaths expelled from the carcass as it came to rest, failed even to register on the mind of this accomplished killing machine, honed and hungry as ever she was, eager to fulfil her contracts with a lust for blood and an insatiable appetite for that exquisite moment of the kill. Pulling her Samsung cell phone from her left pocket, she flipped the cover, eyes surveying every detail of the landscape around her as she pressed number one on her speed dial, placing the phone to her ear as the line hooked up, ringing just two times before being answered by the mellow Russian tones of the voice that for five years now had governed and instructed her every move, issuing directives for each and every new contract without the merest hint of compassion or feeling. The words spoken were brief and to the point. “ It\'s done “, she said, before closing the cover and returning the phone to her pocket. Eyes searching for the cover of the fields nearby, Tatiana moved swiftly and stealthily so as to avoid detection. She had just a few minutes before the marks private limousine and bodyguard would be on the scene, making the grim discovery and barking orders to the paid-for police to seal all roads and track down the killer. Tatiana afforded herself a wry smile as she pushed through the weeds and bramble, heading to the cover of the river from where she could head Southwards towards the village of Brieska near the foothills of the mountains. She had been as methodical as ever, studying her mark with the attention to minutia of detail that had afforded her status as one of the most sought after assassins in the world. Knowing that people, especially those with power and money in equal amounts, are such creatures of habit, she had chosen to make her move as the mark embarked upon her clockwork-like once weekly liaison of the flesh with her her toy boy lover away from the gaze of her elderly Mafia husband. Despite her ageing flesh that withered and lost elasticity that once was taken for granted, at a rate faster than either her cheque book and boundless bank account, or indeed her affable though sycophantic surgeon could dissuade, her passion for youthful flesh had been her undoing. No common or garden hit, no casual lovers tiff turned fatally sour, as the catalyst for an all out mob war as family feuds and petty tit for tat murders had now seemingly reached the point of no return, Tatiana had played her part in the master plan, and could now afford to retreat and watch the bloodbath from a distance. With the fading light, soon the cover of darkness would be her closest friend and allie, limbs moving at speed along the reedy river bank towards the mountains and the border where her contacts would be waiting with forged paperwork, another assumed identity, new orders and the next notch in the bedpost of her kill tally to carve with that steely knife that for so long had been her weapon of choice. Behind her in the town, muffled screams as a blue dyed socialite, lips dripping from her latest bout of restorative Botox and collagen infusions and her pampered poodle searching for a suitable place to cock a furry leg came face to face with death. And a soon to be ex-head of personal security realised that his relief from duty at the hands of his beautiful passenger and subsequent visit to the local bar where nubile naked lap dancers thrust limbs as eagerly as drinks with a hefty bar tab, had just about signed his own death warrant. Working for the mob has it\'s rewards and it\'s dangers, and now life had taken a very sinister turn with such a cruel twist of fate. A wry smile followed the initial shock as the realisation dawned that mankind\'s propensity for the flight or flight syndrome that so governed a man\'s actions and sensibilities, on this occasion was rather heavily one sided. As night fell, Tatiana walked into the opulent lobby of the ИмператорÑкого РуÑÑкого дворца (Imperial Russian Palace), hotel in the heart of Lablienka, ordering a Blackcurrent Martini as she checked her cell phone and pulled out a cylindrical clipped Cheroot from a solid silver holder dating back to the eighteen sixties and engraved with silversmith Vasiliì S. Semenov\'s mark. A handsome young man with flowing dark brown locks and piercing blue eyes moved in from her left flank, dutifully extending a gold Colibri lighter which he lit with a deft flick of his thumb. Tatiana lightly held his hand as she pushed the Cheroot into the path of the flame, her eyes slowly looking the stranger up and down as she pulled away and exhaled a delicious blend of flavoured tobacco\'s. The handsome stranger stroked Tatiana\'s left cheek softly, gentle flesh making delicious downward movements across receptive flesh as he moved his head closer to hers, his lips placed delicately at her right ear as with one hand he carefully moved her strands of red hair to one side, with his other hand cupping her face towards his own. Inwardly Tatiana desired this moment to be something other than that which she knew it was, for this was no sporadic moment of intimacy in an otherwise cold and lonely existence, for no man would have stolen a march on Tatiana\'s person without feeling the steely cold of her trademark knife unless she had good reason to trust,or at least be intrigued by his advance. A stolen kiss, a desire to slip out from the trappings of her day job and sample for an all too brief moment, the allure and power of her femininity, thoughts and folly in a cool and calculating mind. How she longed deep within though on occasions for the touch of skin on skin, the scent of a man arousing her innermost passion, the light of dawn and happy glands embracing, entwined. The kiss planted delicately upon her right cheek, allowing her eyes to momentarily close as she dreampt of falling prey to her womanly instincts. After all, she could always kill him afterwards! Pulling back from the encounter, the young man spoke with seductive tone and a certain charm and elegance. \" The food here is unremarkable, but the Champagne is cheap and plentiful. There is someone that you might want to pay a visit on here, sweet Tatiana \" Pulling away, the man caught the barman\'s eye with a well rehearsed click of forefinger and thumb, throwing currency at the man and signalling to keep the change as he made his exit from the bar. Tatiana meanwhile, took a sip from her Martini glass, and gathered up the envelope in her eager hands. Such frustration and disillusionment, and yet such sweet and blissful anonymity.
