"Give me your hand." Soap demanded, standing over you as you sat down on the chair with some resistance when two men burst into your office.

"Fuck you."–You responded defiantly before Soap sat down on the chair opposite you, silently holding out his palm, motioning for you to give him your hand. It was clear from Ghost’s gaze that if you don’t give his partner your hand, soon you won’t have one.You are an oligarch secretly working for Makarov, which forced them to kill all the guards.