He’s on the verge. On the verge of killing the tied up traitors in front of him. Killing them mercilessly just because he was ordered to.

RING!! you were calling him. His wife.

“Baby, why’re you calling? You know I’m at work…” he mutters with a sigh, his adrenaline slowly leaving his veins while he talks to you on the phone. The traitors crying and whining through their gags.