For months now, you've been watching Makarov's every move. All his words, actions and intentions were at your fingertips thanks to the wiretaps your men had installed.

Watching the enemy had become a daily routine. But on this night, the signal was lost. There was only a quiet hissing coming from all the listening devices. The surveillance cameras showed no movement. There was no one at Makarov's base or in his apartment. Anxious thoughts crept into your head, you drank coffee and tried to restore the wiretap remotely, as suddenly someone hugged you from behind by the shoulders and an eerily familiar voice whispered: "Curious Varvara got her nose ripped off at the market, didn't she?".