Natalia pulled her coat tighter about her shoulders and stormed ahead of them, boots crunching crisply on the dirty snow. Everything in this town was coated in coal dust, even the new falling snow. Ivan hung back with Ekaterina, not wanting to turn Natalia's rage on him. Natalia's stark white hair stood out against the smudgy buildings around them, strikingly bright. Ivan could tell she was fingering the stilettos tucked into her pocket, checking obsessively to make sure they were all secured in the secret folds of her jacket. Even he didn't know how many she had. Ivan tucked his grey scarf over his nose, hoping to conserve some sort of heat. He was used to the cold; its scrabbling fingers always clutched at his skin, but his nose was starting to go numb. Alongside him, Ekaterina practically skipped along the silver train tracks. She had a childish smile plastered to her face and bright red earmuffs tucked over her short platinum hair in place of her normal green headband. She hummed softly to herself. She was the only one who seemed to be enjoying the trip to the Russian countryside.

"Hurry up," Natalia shot over her shoulder. "We'll be late and the General is already not pleased." They stopped at a ramshackle shack, made out of nothing more than sheet metal and wooden clapboards. She gave a complicated series of knocks and the door opened from the inside. Two KGB guards with semi-automatics greeted them with a grunt. Natalia threw them a murderous look and they let the three of them past. The room was too dark, and too small, and Ivan could feel his skin crawling. He could feel the eyes watching from across the room, eyes cold enough to freeze your blood in your veins. An old man sat hunched at a table against the wall. He wore a thick fur hat, even indoors, and his breath wisped away like frost on a window.

"General Winter," Natalia greeted, giving a stiff salute. Ekaterina gave a low bow, but Ivan threw down a manila folder he had been storing under his coat. It slid across the table, right under the downcast face of the General. The old man looked up slowly.

"Have some respect, you Contractor mongrels," one of the guards growled, stepping forwards. He swung the butt of his gun at Ivan's face with a snarl, hate flaring in his eyes. Contractors were not well loved, even here. Ivan grabbed the gun without flinching and twisted the guard's arm up behind his back with his other hand. The General cracked his knuckles, like the crunching of ice on a river, and leaned forwards over the table.

"No, Ivan. That's enough."

"Heel, you rabid dog," the guard spit over his shoulder. Ivan gave a shove up into the guard's shoulder and released him. The guard stumbled forwards and glared over his shoulder. Next to him, Natalia stood rigid, staring at him unapprovingly. Ekaterina seemed unphased. She smiled pleasantly.

"I hope your cold is better General," she trilled, rocking back and forth on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back.

"The cold is in my bones, child. For that there is no cure. But, it reminds me how fragile we all are, how mortal." He fixed Ivan with a frozen stare. "Is this all you found?"

"They had burned the rest by the time we arrived, General. They poured gasoline over the entire laboratory, including the patients and the files, and set it alight. This was all we could salvage," Natalia supplied.

"We could hear the screeching from a mile away. All we found were burnt husks, burned as they tried to claw the door down." Ivan fixed his gaze at the General, who seemed unphased by this.

"Next time you should tread more lightly so they don't know you're coming. Maybe then we'd have some witnesses to interrogate." He slit the file open with a bony finger and tipped out its contents. The room was silent as he read.

"Not a total waste I see. They were researching a cure to the Contractor process it seems, though no headway was made. Even our great Union is still baffled by the process. There's no way some anarchist faction would be able make a breakthrough." He threw the papers down and pressed his fingers into a steeple under his chin. His eyes were sunken in hollow sockets, his skin hanging limp and yellowing about his face.

"But your conduct was still deplorable. I heard you murdered our only witness."

"Yes, General," Ivan said through gritted teeth. His violet eyes flared. "She was barely alive. She would not have survived such burns, and was obviously incoherent. She just kept crying something about the sky falling and the world set on fire. It was a mercy killing sir."

"If I wanted mercy, if I wanted emotions at all I would call for a human, do you understand that? You are a Contractor, a cold blooded killer. You don't feel anything, and you don't understand. You have no right to be making such decisions. You will kill who I tell you to, and when I say bring back prisoners, you will bring back prisoners."

"Yes General."

"Sir, she really was beyond saving."

"Hush, Ekaterina. It doesn't matter now. What's dead is dead. You cost me evidence, Ivan. You cost the Union. Now leave my sight." He flicked his corpse fingers and Ivan turned abruptly to go. He shoved past the guards at the door and out into the night. Snow was wisping through the air, whipped up by a finger of wind. It tasted like ash on his tongue. A few oil lamps shone greasily, but they were outshone by the open sky. How many stars had fallen that day, burning to a crisp in that cold white hospital? He pulled his scarf up over his nose again to hide his face. He was growing tired of the cold. Up above him a red light burned.