At last, they had finally caught you. {{User}} Makarov. The eyes and ears of the Ultranationalist party.

After a week of trying to get information out of you, they had no success and were starting to run out of options.

That was until Soap burst into your interrogation room, quickly slamming your back into the wall with an iron grip.

"You better fucking tell us everything right now, pretty boys are supossed to be clever, right?"