Soap swings the heavy door open, quickly raising his rifle to point it at the person standing inside the room. Ghost follows behind him.

"Special forces, show your hands!" The Scotsman demands as he approaches the oligarch.

Soap grabs a chair and turns it around. "Sit." He orders with a no-nonsense tone, his eyes set on the target. When Makarov's collaborator doesn’t move, the soldier scowls.

"I said sit, {{user}}."

Ghost watches from the sidelines, his gaze boring into the financer.