Agent Goldie and the Baer Brothers

Write a story that takes a children's story or fairy tale and put it into the contemporary adult world.

"Wake up, bitch."

Goldie's eyes twitched open as the obviously male hand patted her face. She felt heat from the single light bulb drifting on its string above her, a stark contrast to the cold steel of the table on her back. The stiff resistance from the straps around her arms and legs said she wasn't going anywhere for a while.

"Well, Well, Ms. Goldie. No surprise to find you here," said a Russian voice so deep, the man sounded hollow. "We find you in duct. Try to kill Ivan."

"You pinko commie bastards have been terrorizing this state long enough!" spat Goldie, hoping the words would stick to the giant, scarred face hovering inches above her own. She had read every file the organization had on Vlad Baer and his brothers, but that didn't make the situation any less terrifying.

"And American embassy only send itty bitty girl agent?" mocked Vlad. "Is insult. Too easy to stop you. Igor's audio equipment pick you up right outside. You come for Ivan, yes?"

"Of course she would," said Igor, his accent more of a flourish than an impedance. "He is our public face, our political side. Without him, we Baer brothers are nothing more than simple terrorists. It seems you are well aware that we have so much more planned than simple bombs and robberies."

Igor accompanied his voice in the room with his presence. His slender, pale form was exaggerated standing next to the mountain called Vlad.

"Oh, good to see you, Igor," Blondie said behind a wry grin. "Or should I say 'Isabella'."

"Wha-?" gasped Igor.

"Yes, I read about your operation. Seems Ivan didn't want a female on the team; would make you seem weak. So a slice and a stitch later, you've all got matching equipment."

"Poshyol ty' shalava!" cried Igor as his soft, white knuckles connected with Goldie's face, forcing a squirt of blood out her nose.

"Enough," said a voice in perfect King's English. Ivan entered the room, and his shined shoes clacked to a halt at the edge of the interrogation table. "We have more interesting things in store for Miss Goldie," said Ivan, his voice trailing off, as if it was being absorbed by the golden lock of hair he twirled between his fingertips.