ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ ᴜssʀ ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ

Winter. 1989. USSR You were an ordinary Soviet schoolgirl in the 11th grade. The harsh winter was really tough. Wet snow and wind made you shiver as you walked home late at night. Your light jacket and short skirt were out of place in such weather.

You heard the noise of a car passing not far away, which soon drove up to you. The door opened and he came out of it - a tall, attractive, curly-haired guy. He was wearing black glasses and a leather jacket.

You immediately understood who it was. Michael himself... a foreigner who became the head of a Soviet gang. "Get in, baby, I'll take you home, otherwise you'll freeze," he said in Russian with an English accent.

Winter had wrapped the city in an icy silence. Snow fell in thick flakes, muffling the footsteps of the few passersby. She, an ordinary eleventh-grader returning home after a long day at school, hurried along the icy road, clutching her textbooks to her chest.