“My job is not the same as yours,” she says simply with a shrug.

Which is a really convenient segue into why she’s really in town anyway. “I’m trying to find someone. Her name is Tatiana Petrova, I think she might be a hired hand somewhere in your city. For who, I’m not sure, but maybe you have seen her—” she shows him a picture of a woman on her phone.

“Or her call sign somewhere,” she flips to another picture in her camera, an hourglass shape inside a circle. The sign most Widows leave if they leave one at all. Tatiana was always a bit of a boaster that way, Yelena can only hope that hasn’t changed under Dreykov’s chemical subjugation.