As I sat eating my anchovy pizza outside of the French pizzeria, I contemplated my situation. I was on the run. I had been assigned to steal information from the Russian government, and had succeeded on my mission, but was now on the run in Paris, France. I was posing as a tourist. I stood up, and briskly walked over to the smelly public bathroom. I walked in, and heard a low voice behind me whisper, “Don’t turn around.” It seems I had been found in this high-stakes game of hide and seek. I felt something cold and hard be pressed against my back. I sighed. My day had been so enjoyable so far. Oh, well. I swiftly kicked my left leg back, nailing the Russian in the gut. I swung my right leg up, kicked the gun out of his hand, and punched him in the face with my left fist. I tucked the gun in my coat pocket, stepped over his unconscious body, and left the bathroom. I checked my watch, and walked towards a man in a yellow sweater.He said the password, took the files, and we went our own ways.Mission Accomplished.