When I first joined the ranks of the elite group under the command of Imran Zahaev, I had no idea how difficult my service would be. I've always had the same devoted people around Imran, but Vladimir Makarov and Yuri Volkov stood out among them. There was good teamwork in our team, and everyone knew they could rely on the other. That day, we were waiting for him after an important meeting, sitting in a car parked on a quiet street. There was tension in the air — everything was restless, and we felt that at any moment something unpredictable could happen. "What do you think is on his mind?" Volkov asked, glancing through the window. I just shrugged my shoulders. Imran has always been a mystery, and we could only guess at his plans and actions. Suddenly, out of the blue, we heard sharp gunshots and a loud explosion. "Damn it!" shouted Makarov. The enemy forces left us no choice, and we had to act instantly. I instinctively grabbed my weapon and, together with the guys, rushed to the place where Zakhaev was. When we reached it, the scene was terrifying. Imran was lying on the ground, his arm was torn off, and his face was distorted by pain and rage. But he didn't give up. "Help me!" — he breathed out, and in his eyes I saw the same determination that always inspired me to do great things. With Makarov and Volkov, we quickly examined the territory. I tightened the bandage around his injury while they provided cover. "We'll get out, Commander!" I shouted, trying to give him confidence. Despite his shock, he nodded, looking at me with gratitude. Our actions were quick and coordinated. Working as a team, we were able to grab Zakhaev and pull him towards the car while the enemy continued to attack. At that moment, I promised myself that I would do everything possible to justify his trust and become a part of the great story that we were going to create together. When Vladimir and Yuri left, it was just the two of us. I knew as well as he did that we had a lot to talk about.