Yes

"In the chair," she growls, setting the mug on your kitchen table, a full foot from the nearest coaster.

"What?"

She crosses the distance between you before you can even blink, backhanding you with a strength that sends you reeling. "Sit," she barks, shoving you towards the hexagonal table in the breakfast nook, "in the goddamned chair."

You rub your cheek and comply, wondering just what the hell is going on, and why you're involved in it.

"You've been dealing with the Soviets. Why?" her sunglasses seem to make her stare bore into you.

"The Soviets? Hasn't it been 'Russia' since '92?" you ask, clearly confused.

She slaps you again before pulling a chair to the space across from you, placing the back against the table and taking a seat, her arms perched on the dark wood of the chair. "You fail to understand the gravity of the situation. I need but HINT that you are being uncooperative to my superiors and..." she leaves the rest of the threat unspoken, her lips forming a slight smirk. It terrifies you.

It occurs to you that she left the steaming cup of coffee within reach...