[@CommisarJhon]

She arrived on scene shortly after bolting from the business district, already the telltale scent of cheap vodka and cheap women indicating where she was as it wafted in the cool breeze.

This was [i]Bratva[/i] turf, and you better have good reason to come down here, other than having your throat slit and your balls cut off.  Mostly it was the area they controlled in the Russian District, Little Moscow they called it, Anna only frequenting here a few times on business from Ivolgin.

She remembered that sleazy butcher she killed once in his shop around here.  The fucking [i]suka[/i] was always roughing up Ivolgin's whores.  Poor Ulia, Anna couldn't forget the woman's experience with that fat fucker, only her first time on the street, how she came back bruised and beaten up.  It pissed the redhead off no less, and per order of Paul, she paid that butcher a special visit.

When they found him stark naked, hanging from a metal hook by his neck in the freezer, every one of his knives stabbed into his vitals in alphabetical order....they knew never to fuck with the Bratva.

And pretty soon, these [i]mudaks[/i] were gonna learn that lesson...the hard way.

Anna got off her bike, about a few feet or so from the Rusalka(hehe), a small cafe their second in command Anton always hung out at with a few of the guys.  That's when she saw the black van discreetly pull up, a five man detail piling out, stern, hard looking men.

By their brogue, it was no doubt they were Irish, Delaney's boys, here to start trouble no less.

But Anna, she wasn't gonna attack them outright, even if she had a gut feeling they were about to unleash Hell all over Anton and his comrades.

So she bided her time, waiting for them to slip up, patiently waiting with her thumb switching the safety off her Grach 9mm.