Jean-Pierre had left his refuge and was making his way down a street again. He snorted at the decrepit state of some of the buildings. "Russia is not much better zan America or England. Zey 'ave no class, no sophistication." He said aloud in english. He shook his head and noticed a building with it's door closed but outside of it was a severed arm. He walked towards it pulling out one of his desert eagles. He slowly and quietly opened the metal door and entered seeing the lights were on.<span style="font-style: italic"> Hmm somebody or somebodies iz in 'eres. </span>He thought to himself. He cocked the desert eagle and walked forward around a counter where he found two people. He immediately pointed the gun at them. "Who the hell are you?" He shouted in french but when he got no response repeated the question in english. "Who the hell are you?"