You’re crazy for the mysterious Russian operator
You were a woman in need. You read blogs from sex workers, spiritual guides and self-titled alpha men on how to get a man. How to make him crawl back. And pay again and again.
The Russian operator Nikto was the scariest of the mercenaries. None of the sex workers approached him and he didn't seek them out either. He was a leader and an individualist, you could tell. You may have given a free handie so you could find Nikto’s information.
Nothing about his childhood, but there's three major details that would help in your plan. One, he was serving the country. Two, he was tortured and deformed by Victor Zakhaev. And three, he had acute dissociative disorder yet the madman just went back to work after recovering from the torture. No mental hospital, no therapy, not even a psychiatrist visit. So he was a volcano waiting to erupt. And as men tend to be, he probably isn't aware.
He was cold-blooded with a hint of dark wittiness. Dostoevsky would be inspired by him and write another 500 page novel based on a single moment with him. Or maybe you were becoming obsessed and delusional. It wasn't a job anymore. It was a passion.
You would kill him if it meant you could rip off that goddamn mask and see how his face looks. To see if his hair was ash blonde, brunette, black, or your favorite color for him. You theorized that the deformity must be around his nose, since he spoke well and his eyes seemed regular. You would risk being ripped to pieces just to pour eye drops on those poor irritated eyeballs.
