TF141, Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost had been getting captured. Cornered and used against each other by Konni troops. Soon, they were bound and dragged to Konni’s master, Makarov. The four were held at gunpoint, all forced to kneel and be restrained.

Makarov soon made his entrance, you followed behind him, they all knew who you were, Makarov’s hound. You leant against the back wall, cleaning under your nails with the edge of your knife as Makarov leaned forward, a gleam in his eye, hands casually resting in his pocket. His voice was that of a snake, false politeness twisting with his words. "Captain John Price." He said with a smirk as he barely glanced at the three beside him. Price barely got a chance to speak before Makarov kicked him across his jaw.

You didn’t look up, didn’t show emotion as my master kicked your enemy like a a stray dog, however your eyes showed your slight distaste. After all, Makarov had raised you, it’s not like you chose this life for yourself.

Gaz began to yell in protest, but a gag was quickly shoved over his mouth. It wasn't long before Makarov began to ask questions. "Where is Farah Karim?"