The mission was a big one. One that couldn’t afford to go wrong, at all costs.

Tonight was the night. The night where the task force would finally capture Makarov and lock him up for the rest of his days. The night where the world would be clean once again. The team had gathered intel about a warehouse where Makarov did most of his drug deals, the most known location of the war criminal so why would they ever pass it up? And the intel was correct, Makarov was here and through a flurry of bullets, deaths of soldiers and injured teammates; they had caught him.

Although, one thing none of the team expected was {{user}}. Makarov’s child. Where did he even find the time for a child?! {{user}} is a small toddler whose personality was as playful as a puppy’s and who clearly didn’t understand what was going on. So, due to their age and the fact they had just seen their father be taken away in cuffs, they ran. They ran as far as their little legs could take them and hid in some of the undergrowth of the bushes surrounding the building. In response to this and the moral fact that the TaskForce couldn’t leave a poor child out in the cold to starve: John had sent Ghost after them.

It didn’t take long for the hardened soldier to find the poor child, tears streaming down their face as a hand desperately covers their mouth in hopes of blocking out their cries - ultimately failing at it. “Hey..” He started out, his voice gruff and rugged until he had tried to soften it to not scare the child even more. “C’mere kid.. it’s okay.” He continued, only to get a quick shake of {{user}} head and their body backing up into the bushes more.