Flickering red lights bathed the concrete hallways in deathly red glow as blaring sirens threatened to destroy Anna's hearing. Dressed head to toe in blackened military fatigues, she sprinted towards the control room, ignoring the bullet-riddled corpses strewn outside. She grunted and hurled herself through the glass window, sending all three occupants whirling around in shock.

A flick of her wrist. Bang bang. Bang bang. Anna put two bullets in each of their heads. Sven whipped out a pistol only to have it kicked out of his hands. Eyes fixed on his dead colleagues, he gasped as she kicked him hard in the gut. The impact sent him staggering and colliding with a steel pipe.

It couldn't have happened any quicker. Leaping through the air, Anna caught hold of overhead lighting cables and ripped them from the ceiling. A split second later, and Sven's tied to the pipe, sparking power cable thrust into his face by a visibly enraged Anna. He sniggered at her, only to receive a swift elbow in the face. Blood leaked from his nose.

"Do not be fooled," Anna seethed, "I would've gladly killed you if I had the choice. I think you know why I left you alive."

"To look into your pretty green eyes?"

Sven let out a blood curdling scream as she jammed the power cables into his neck. It lasted but a second, but left him in a twitching mess.

"Now!" Anna slapped him, "The nuclear codes!"

"I'm not telling you anything-"

Anna chuckled, before lowering the sparking cable between Sven's legs. His eyes watered at the thought of what she was about to do next.

"It'd be such a shame really," Anna drawled, "you're a good man-"

"What're you going to do even if I gave them to you?" Sven argued, as a rumble echoed in the distance, "This facility is collapsing, thanks to you and your fucking comrades."

The distant explosions increased in intensity. Anna's eyes flew to the ceiling, dust and concrete raining around them. Reaching for her radio, Anna yelled, "Товарищи, эвакуируйтесь!" (Comrades, Evacuate!)

"It was nice knowing you, Mr Dawson," Anna sneered, binding him to the pipe and leaping out the broken window.

On cue, Anna exited the scene, as Sven resumed his frantic efforts to free himself. Blood leaked from her elbow, and her knees burned with pain from where she had taken a bump. Still, the girl watched with bated breath as Elsa appeared. Billowing dust and smoke stained Elsa's face, but she otherwise looked immaculate in her black dress.

"Dawson!" Elsa yelled, clambering through the window, "I thought I lost you-"

"Get out of here!" Sven shouted, "This place is going up in smoke!"

Snatching a shard of broken glass, Elsa slit his wrists free. Anna's eyes narrowed as the dashing secret agent drew Elsa in for a kiss, before leading her by hand to safety.

"Cut!" Kristoff yelled, at once turning to Anna.

"All in one take, no stunt doubles, nothing. Truly remarkable," Kristoff said, before he caught hold of her elbow, "oh, you're injured, you better-"

Anna ripped her elbow away from his grasp. With venom in her eyes, she stared at him - and at Elsa and Sven being led off the set. Hurt flashed through her face, before she muttered, "I'm fine, call me when it's the next take."

Looking away, Anna caught sight of Elsa gazing at her from afar. Eyes rife with hurt. Anna clenched her fists, trying to shake off that desperate longing burning in her chest. Her heart sank as Elsa looked away. Perhaps it was too early to approach her, too soon to ask for forgiveness.

Or perhaps it was never meant to be.

The jet shuddered as it skidded to a halt at the end of the runway. Belching fumes and spitting fire, the engines gave one last mighty cough, before exploding - showering turbine blades and burning jet fuel all over the tarmac. The blast ripped a hole in the cabin. Coughing smoke from her lungs, Elsa grabbed the briefcase and stumbled out of the wreckage, searching for a way out of the fiery carnage.

"Dawson!" Elsa screamed into the icy wind, trying to spot the hangar in the distance.

The smoke cleared. A lone figure stood in her way.

Anna.

Eyes steeped in hatred.

Fists clenched.

Empty still-smoking pistol dangling from her holster.

Dead CIA agents littered around her.

This was about to get personal.

"I can't let you leave with that," Anna growled, voice barely rising above the noise.

Elsa stared back, lungs heaving with fire. She grabbed a pair of handcuffs from a dead soldier, and cuffed herself to the briefcase. Her fingers tightened around the black leather.

"You'll really die for this?" Elsa asked, blue eyes glowing in the smoke, "For some madman to destroy the world?"

"It's not about Moscow anymore," Anna seethed, her face betraying a mixture of rage and sorrow, "it's about you, and if I'm dying, you're coming to hell with me."

The heavens turned white. Snow began to fall from the sky. Clumps of sleet visible in all directions. Ice formed on the runway, gnarling and cracking with each moment they stared each other down.

With a grunt, Anna lunged for the briefcase. Elsa cracked it across her head, spewing icicles everywhere. The cuffs snagged between their wrists. Tumbling amidst the cracked ice, the two women fought over the briefcase. Years of state-sponsored KGB wrestling tutelage won out, and Anna ended up on top of Elsa.

Smack. Elsa's knuckles collided with Anna's face. The sting of ice against her cheekbone bewildered Anna, drawing blood. Pinning her weight against Elsa, she jammed the cuffs against her throat, cutting off her breathing. Eyes interlocked, their foggy breaths met. Elsa's free hand made a feeble attempt at fending the girl off, but Anna's sheer strength won out.

"Rest in peace, Ms Frost," Anna sneered, watching Elsa's face go whiter by the second, "see you in hell."

On cue, Elsa grabbed a jagged turbine blade behind her and shanked Anna in the ribs. The girl went limp. Elsa stood up, sending Anna tumbling upon the ice. The sight of Anna's lifeless expression and lips going blue sent a shudder through Elsa, but she persisted.

"Not if you go there first-" Elsa snarled.

"Cut!" Kristoff yelled, from beneath his umbrella.

Anna got up, and removed the prop rubber shard from her outfit. She touched her cheekbone, lips parting in shock when it came away with ice and real blood.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Elsa gasped, reaching out a hand to comfort Anna. A team of stylists descended upon Elsa, pulling her away to get her makeup fixed. Still, she looked back at Anna, eyes desperately screaming for forgiveness. The blizzard intensified. Crew started to pack their gear, struggling against the violent gale. A flurry of thoughts slammed into Anna's head at once: the sight of Elsa being dragged away, the ferocious force of her character still calling out its unfinished business, and the ice. Everywhere, on her face, on the burning tarmac, falling from the sky. The pain blossoming across her face felt numb for a moment, before it struck her with irreverent force, sending her collapsing onto her haunches.

Mr Whitfield shielded his face from the icy wind and strode over to Kristoff.

"Is this storm part of the scene?" Whitfield asked.

"No, no, I swear," Kristoff yelled back, voice barely rising over the gale, "we just got caught at a bad time!"

"Great, keep it in the final cut!"