PROLOGUE

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"DESYAT' CHASOV. Segodnya noch'yu. Skaybar v Kiyeve. On budet tam." The lifeless words fell from Juno's bubblegum-colored, chapped lips, with her dark eyes glaring ahead at the brunet man and blonde woman that stood in front of her. With a huff, the woman pushed herself onto the deep red marble counter that wrapped around a portion of the vacant apartment they were stationed in. Her two slightly older companions nodded along to her words, absorbing the information just as they had done dozens of times before. They had no reason to believe this mission would be any different. Their handlers counted on them, and they would dedicate every ounce of themselves to comply. It was better than the alternative. (Ten o'clock. Tonight. Skybar in Kiev. He'll be there.)

As for the relationship between the trio, it was nothing short of complicated, and often fluctuated between a spectrum of friendliness and 'If-you-so-much-as-look-at-me-I-will-skin-you-and-make-sushi-out-of-it.' 

It usually depended on their moods. 

"Skaybar populyaren sredi mestnykh zhiteley. Vy uvereny, chto smozhete voyti i vyyti nezamechennym?" The blonde, whom Juno came to know as Katja - or Kit - asked, with words acting as the shell to a hollow cavern. The blonde was highly intelligent, with perceptivity that rivaled most people Juno had ever known, but getting any sort of normal emotion from her was like drawing blood from a stone. (The Skybar is popular with the locals. Are you sure you'll get in and out without being noticed?)

Juno rolled her eyes with a slow nod of her head. "Da, Katya, ya sdelal domashneye zadaniye," the woman drawled sarcastically, taunting her with the use of her full name. It was a never-ending cycle of back and forth between the two female assassins, the gist of which was that 'Kit' was the blonde's 'fun' personality, and 'Katja' was the boring one. Unsurprisingly, it never went over too well, not that Juno cared much. (Yes, Katja, I did my homework.)

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