Writing about magic is harder than writing about spies because you're dealing with something that doesn't really exist.

Nice day for a funeral.

You couldn't trust anyone or anything that belonged to the world of espionage.

You are meant to be here. There are no coincidences. It's all happening the way it was meant to be.

Strange though it is,Sarov still cares about you. He told me to leave you alone. But I think, this time, I must disobey the general. You are mine! And I intend to make you suffer..." "Just talking to you makes me suffer," Alex said.

Statues lined the stairs and stood, dotted across the roof. But they had been brutalized by time and the weather. Some were missing arms. Many had no faces. Once they had been saints and angels. Two hundred years standing in London had turned them into cripples.

Go to Venice. Find Scorpia. And you will find your destiny.