A Russian man with one of the finest chiseled jawline stood courageously in front of Andre. Andre's surprised look quickly turned into a friendly smile.

"Yo Mark, ma man!"

"You refer to me as Sir Mark Volkov, and I am not your man," Mark said in his dark Russian accent. " We are enemies with a rivaled past,"

"Just 'cause I escaped your grasp, 40 times, doesn't mean we are enemies, bro," Andre had a voice full of composure. Mark scowled.

"So, what's in the bag?" Mark lifted his eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

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"Hey weren't you in a coma for like 4 days? I didn't see you for like a year, bro,"

"What did I just ask!" Mark lifted his gun in anger.

"What is it with guns today? Whoa! How come I lost my accent but you still have yours, i am practicing though, practice makes perfect, right?"

"WHAT'S IN THE DAMN BAG!" He pressed the gun firmly on Andre's head " YOU THINK YOUR SMART HUH!!"

Are bright red car suddenly flew into the building and crashed into the wall. Mark focused his attention on the car as Andre slipped under Mark's leg in ran out to a lid that led to the sewers

"HEY GET THE HELL BACK HERE BEFORE I MAKE YOU!"

Andre escaped through the sewer as Mark followed. just after Andre hopped off the ladder, it clogged with dirt. He escaped.

"ANDRE, YOU DOOOOOOOOOOG!!!!!!"