Dominika, ‘Fox’ , as she was sometimes known by her peers stood outside the room where the meeting was supposedly to be with the commissioner who had of course hired her and an unknown amount of others to go about erecting the barricades to hold back the ever growing tide of mutants that threatened to overtake their metro tunnels. That could not happen, even if she often did not work with others. This job would be a step towards redemption for her and a very big pile of military bullets, she hoped. The pile of bullets was the more important part to her anyways or so she told herself and it was why she hoped Jeiyce had gone through with his end of the bargain. He was going to support them in turn for well.. There had actually been no terms for such an agreement. The man owed her and she was calling in his debt once more like she had numerous times before and it bothered her though she didn’t care to admit it.<span style="color: blue">‘No time to be sentimental, Dominika.’</span><br/><br/>After settling that matter with herself the woman pushed open the door. Dominika was of average height, or so she’d always been told at least. Her navy colored jumpsuit was well worn but also taken care of, the padded and insulated garment fitting close to her lithe body, a body clearly made for climbing and running rather than fighting. Her face was pale and streaked with dirt at the cheek and her features were almost predatory in their profile and her icy cold blue eyes took in the room around her as she sat there warming her hands before finally pulling on her old black leather gloves as if in reluctance.<br/><br/>She would have settled by Jeiyce, looking at the only other two men in the room she didn’t know as she pulled off the black skullcap that covered her short-cut black hair and stuffed it in the dilapidated military satchel at her side. It also seemed she had a custom-made Tihar air rifle as well, the carefully wrought weapon hanging on her shoulder from its strap before she set it on its stock, leaning the barrel against the table. It too was well maintained, just like her jumpsuit. No dirt covered the weapon or its valves and unlike some weapons in the metro it had a real scope, one without cracked or dirty glass even.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue"><i><b>“Commissioneer.”</b></i></span>She spoke up, her voice surprisingly soft and quiet despite her outwardly gruff appearance.<span style="color: blue"><b><i>"You needed an accurate gun for hire?”</i></b> </span>The woman  picks up her Tihar by the handguard as if to show it off to both the room and the man whom she’d hoped would hire her.<span style="color: blue"><b><i>“ Dominika Azarov.” </i></b></span>The woman was likely known by the locals as Fox though more as a loner and scavenger than one who actually worked with the town in any official capacity, it was a rare occasion indeed for the woman to actually get involved in anything and it usually involved making a good deal of bullets.<span style="color: blue"><b><i>“ I take it the gear is ours to use?”</i></b></span>She tilts her head towards the locker, eyes fixed on the official who fancied himself leader<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>