Mothers, lock up your... well, everything - the biggest kleptomaniac in gaming is back. We've got a bit of a soft spot for Nina Kalenkov. In her mission to solve the mystery of Tunguska in the original Secret Files, there was nothing she wouldn't pocket (and no guard she wouldn't fatally wound) in the name of progress. Thirty minutes into the sequel and she's already up to her old tricks, somehow lining her tight jeans with a roller-skate, a bikini, a boat oar, an ice bucket and some marzipan potatoes. We don't even know what marzipan potatoes are, but damn, we stole the hell out of them.
There's method in our madness. We needed to construct a makeshift mop to swab away the grime from a window obscuring a message scrawled on the base of a UFO-shaped children's toy. Did we mention this was done in the dead of night aboard a luxury cruise liner? There may not be method in Fusionsphere's madness, but this is exactly the sort of thing we expected (and hoped for) from the sequel to the game that gave us the infamous 'superglue a mobile phone to a cat' puzzle. If we're not nailing those marzipan potatoes to a dolphin in the near future we'll be heartily disappointed.
Point and nick
Having solved the mystery of the Tunguska event, Puritas Cordis begins with a vaguer conundrum. Shady Sam Fisher-a-likes are offing monks and dusty academics (do you really need night vision goggles to take out an 80-year-old vicar?) and the next man on their list has just had his luggage swapped with Nina's, although we wouldn't be surprised if she nicked it. Okay, so a few fogies getting bumped off hardly competes with a 15-megaton, forest-levelling explosion, but we're sure it'll pick up.
And yes, fans of the original's wonderfully fruity voice-work can relax. You want Americans not even trying to sound British, Russian or Spanish? You got Americans not even trying to sound British, Russian or Spanish. It's only a matter of time until Pedro calls Sergey a douchebag. Welcome back, Secret Files, we've missed you.