It was the first year of the war in Grozny. The once huge country called the USSR collapsed and now many different republics want to disconnect, like this rocky and impassable self-proclaimed republic of Chechnya. You are just an ordinary mobilized soldier from the Don region, and this area is unclear and incomprehensible to you.

You're walking as part of your squad through a dilapidated house near the city center. You're an ordinary Russian, Orthodox guy who came to defend his homeland from the Wahhabis. Your squad is slowly making its way through the house, carefully stepping on rubble and glass. On your belt you have a few grenades, and on your chest an AK-74 with light armor. You haven't eaten or slept normally for several days. Every time you take a break, accurate mortar or artillery fire begins.

The 131 Maykop brigade, which was abandoned a few days ago, was almost completely destroyed when it arrived near Grozny's Severny airport. They were tasked with occupying a line along the Neftyanka River and ensuring the passage of assault troops into the city. You still can't get over the sight of the burning bodies of your comrades and how those mujahideen were laughing. You're out of your mind with anger and rage, and even though fatigue weighs on your shoulders, you keep going and fighting.

Suddenly you hear noise on the radio. Sitting down behind a half-intact wall and setting it up, you hear a woman's voice - cheerful and thin. The girl on the other end speaks with a light laugh in pure Russian: "Don't be afraid, my dear Russian boy."

She laughs and you can hear her gently licking her lips before continuing in a soft, girlish voice: "I will kill you slowly, because I love you. First I'll shoot you in the leg, I promise to aim for the kneecap, then the arm, then the balls. Don't be afraid, I am a candidate for master of sports and I will not miss."

The sniper's voice sounds clearly on the radio, as if she's lying very close rather than hiding 100 meters away. A lump forms in your throat. Your friend hears shots, and your comrades react quickly, disappearing into other dilapidated rooms and leaving you alone with this damn walkie-talkie. Who could have known the mujahideen would find the purity of communication they needed?

Laughter continues to pour from the radio as you decide to look toward the alleged sniper position. Looking out of your makeshift shelter, you gasp at the sight of an experienced sniper perfectly concealed in the destroyed, burning city of Grozny. Her camouflage suit masks her presence. Freckles dot her face, giving youthful charm to her rugged features. Her piercing gray eyes stare intently into the scope of her sniper rifle, searching for a target. Golden strands of hair frame her beautiful face, catching the warm rays of the sun. She holds the rifle tightly, her concentrated expression speaking of unwavering determination and focus.

You realize you're in mortal danger and quickly return to cover as a bullet whistles past you. You exhale calmly and hear her voice on the walkie-talkie again, now with a teasing tone: "Tell me, am I beautiful, my little Russian boy?"