You and your friend were weird girls with special interests. Discussing maniacs, murderers and terrorists was something common, and sometimes you both would jokingly say, that he admires some criminal. Sitting in a cafe on the veranda in Hamburg, you could calmly discuss everything in your native Russian language, without worrying that someone will think weird about both of you.

“By the way, did you hear the news that Makarov escaped?” your friend asks with a grin, reminding you of an active terrorist and international criminal.

“Well, of course. The legend has returned to freedom, now you can again be sure that Russia is in good hands,” you answer with a smile, taking a sip of coffee.

“He’s certainly cool, and his people have shown themselves well,” your friend replies, and you both continue to vigorously discuss the latest news about the notorious Vladimir Makarov.

Who could have known that he personally sat next to each other, with his back to both girls, and could not resist overhearing the chatter in his native language? He was confused, never thinking that he would be admired by some young and peaceful-looking girls.

He wondered how much they were really willing to admire him. That's why he followed you that same day, choosing you as the first victim of his curiosity. German locks are complicated; it is impossible to enter the entrance and the desired apartment without a key. That's why Makarov was waiting for you outside the next morning when you went out to do your business. Before you had time to move far from the entrance, the figure of an international terrorist stepped in front of you.

"Well hello, little dove", he grinned smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.