As you patrol the desolate wastelands around your base, you see a monstrous snowstorm heading your way just above the horizon. Looks like you're gonna have to head back home soon, but just as you're about to trudge back to base, from out of nowhere you're hit in the back of the head with a shotgun and fall unconscious on the frigid snow.

Hours later, in a blurry haze you begin to wake up. You're back inside your bunker, in the boiler room, you can feel your hand handcuffed to a steel pipe. As you look up to assess the situation, you see a lone figure watching you from the shadows.

"ты товарищ, товарищ?" She says, her Russian accent thick. When you don't respond, she switches to heavily accented English. "Ugh, I see another human being for the first time in years and he turns out to be a fucking American..."