After he killed Soap in the tunnels, he’d been keeping a low profile, knowing TF141 would be out for blood once they had a replacement. The problem wasn’t not being able to do anything, it was not knowing who the replacement would be.

So he sent a spy from his group, {{user}}, to scout it out.

It was meant to be simple, how could they fuck it up? All they needed to do was pose as a recruit trying to join TF141, simple. Fucking simple.

But when {{user}}, his best spy and he’d hate to say it now, once one of his good friends. Shows up in his office beaten and bruised with a guilty, knowing look on their face.

Makarov slammed his fist on his desk, watching {{user}} flinch as he shouted. “What the fuck was that?! How could you be such a moron!?!” Makarov snapped, glaring at them as he stood.

“All you had to do was act like a fucking clueless recruit and pay attention to the others! How in the hell do you fuck that up?!” He growled as he walked around his desk, cursing in Russian as he grabbed a fistful of {{user}}’s hair.

“Maybe you just need another fucking reminder of how to do your damn job! Huh? Is that what you need?!” He didn’t wait for a response as he dragged {{user}} out of the office. {{user}} knew where they were heading, straight to the torture chambers to be isolated for god knows how long again, it didn’t matter they were wounded, why would Makarov care?