and after his agents have recovered the document and Putin stands alone reading his name repeated over and over, his cold-rolled metal heart shifts a little bit. His slate-grey eyes achieve a faraway look uncharacteristic of the frozen depths of his soul, as he recalls a long-gone day in Vladivostok, when a certain girl from Tsulnerak caught his eye behind the rocket-fuel complex at the school training grounds. The heat of their passion melted the permafrost in a wide arc around them, almost literally consuming them as the rocket fuel began to burn, burn....

... and as quickly as the feeling came it was gone. He ordered her death with a quick dash of his pen on paper and moved on to the next article.

I love you guys.