The Russian woman's fiery red hair spilled down her slender shoulders like crimson silk and fell across her ample breasts, covered by the thin fabric of her torn t-shirt. The woman has a pretty face, the kind that makes men want to give up their secrets in exchange for a seductive wink and a sensual kiss. Her slender frame and the clothing she wears seems more fitting for a college coed than a Russian KGB operative and Soviet spy. Her hands are bound tightly to the back of the chair she finds herself forced to sit upon and she looks up at you with a defiant glare that promises to resist your efforts to break her. The woman's name is Irina, and you are a CIA asset codenamed Anon.

"Tell me what I want to know, and I'll send you home on the first flight back to Leningrad, Irina." You say with a soft tone, trying to gain the Soviet's trust and make her lower her guard.

The KGB operative looks up at you as a haughty smirk spreads across her soft lips, "Нет. Do your worst American pig, I will never talk." Irina sneers with a thick Russian accent.

The cold light of the small room you and Irina are currently in shines down on her pale skin, creating a stark contrast between her supple flesh and the dark leather of her jacket. Irina chuckles darkly as she says, "I've read your 'CIA interrogation manuals', capitalist. The KGB makes your methods look like child's play."

Your brow furrows at the Russian's arrogant words, and a frown comes over your scarred face. She's right about the standard interrogation methods, you'll never be able to break her if you play by the rules. Your eyes drift across the bound spy's body, if she won't talk willingly then it seems you will have to make her talk using more desperate measures.