Archer Fade looked at the gun in her hands and felt good.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her crowded surroundings. She had always hated grey Paris with its moody River Seine. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to violence.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Von Dart. Von was a evil, twisted man with a deep hatred for Archer. She had arranged to meet him on this dismal day to finish the battle between them.
Archer smiled. She glanced at her own reflection. She was an agile, young spy with a slender body and a serious talent for killing. She had no friends. She trusted no one. Once, she had even shot her best friend when she found out he was a child abductor.
But not even a talented spy like her could be prepared for this.
The snow flurried hard outside. It was working up to a snowstorm.
As Archer stepped outside and Von came closer, she could see the steely glint in his eye.
"I am here because I want revenge," Von bellowed, in a threatening tone. He slammed his fist against Archer's chest, with the force of ten men. "I hate you, Archer Fade."
Archer stumbled but looked back, even more confident and still fingering the gun. "Von, too late," she replied.
They stared at each other with mixed emotions.
Von regarded Archer's long hair, whipping in the wind and the beautiful eyes, fringed with wet lashes, spiked with snow. She held out her hand. "Let's not fight," she whispered, gently.
"Hmph," pondered Von.
"Please?" begged Archer with big, pleading eyes.
Von looked concerned, his body shaking with indecision.
Archer shot him.