For most of your life, you were the "best" person in Makarov's squad. Perhaps you have become his right-hand man or even a friend, because not everyone drinks whiskey with colleagues, discussing life.

You seemed pretty good at being important to him. But it was just a game where you were the main character. You held it in your hands, preparing to strike a calculated blow and set up an accident. Then Connie's entire group would be yours. So many years of effort should have paid off.

Makarov lit a cigarette and came up to you: "Let's go to the bar today." He was a little annoyed as he was talking to one of the subordinates who was annoying him.