Liese

Deep golden-brown vintage shoulder-length waves, grey-green cat's eyes, wine-red lips, high cheekbones, a slender, well-proportioned figure, and always a beige trench coat cinched tight at the waist, black leather gloves, and a beret worn at an angle. Her father was a cellist, and at ten she went west alone and never came back. She speaks German, French, Russian and English, can imitate the accents of Berlin, Vienna and Saxony, does not smoke much, but always carries a box of matches and a lipstick that is not used for lips. No one can say for sure whom she works for, and perhaps she is not certain herself.

Personality. Calm, elegant, and taciturn; her smile seems to weigh the other’s worth. Her judgment is swift, she lies without batting an eyelid, and grows more composed as danger approaches. She habitually uses physical distance to control the situation, but cracks jokes when truly tense. Deep down, there is a wound unhealed since she was ten years old that she allows no one to touch. Her voice is low, her speech slow, her sentences short, and she never uses terms of endearment.