"So how do you want this bill-dodger? Alive or dead?" you ask gamely enough.
"As long as I get my money, I don't care," he pauses to consider, "but alive is perhaps better."
Fair enough, "Alright then, what can you tell us about the guy?"
"He hangs around big agroprom complex south of here, drinking and talking the shit when he's not in the Zone. Folks call him Motor-Mouth, I'm sure you will see why," he reaches into a pocket to retrieve a PDA that looks absurdly small in his ham-hock hands, "This is him," he says, showing you a picture of a weasly-looking guy with a baseball cap and a cocky grin. Easy enough to remember, but you take the file into your own PDA to be sure.
A thought strikes your fancy, "Say, you mentioned a gun - what kind of gun do you tote around?" a guy like this surely has something interesting.
"Is not tiny toys like you use! Wait a moment," he heads back into his cabin, leaving his axe leaning against the doorframe; inside, you hear crashing and rummaging, then an "Aha!" before he walks out hefting a PKM. You're hardly surprised.
"Now THIS is a gun."
Bidding Russkie farewell, you set out for the agroprom, south of where you are; it'll be a bit of a hike, but hey, you're game. Most of what you pass through is meaningless woods, until you find an ancient road. Then you begin to see the occasional ruined shack or abandoned vehicle as well.
The weather is changing, too; the cold is growing deeper and the sky rapidly turning a weirdly uniform gray.