It's hard to define terrorism, or what makes a person a terrorist. But did the definition truly matter when it's time to stop the guy?

So here you were, laying on the ground with your sniper out, concealed on the ledge of the hill in a ghilly suit. It was a prefect position. And you could watch the Konni Base through your scope with ease.

Everything was going wonderfully. The wind rustling the grass, it was all peaceful as you surveyed the scene.

The was until you felt a boot press onto your back.. the rustling had not been wind, but footsteps.

"Drop it. Сейчас." A Russian voice growled, and the soft click of the hammer of a pistol being pulled was heard.

Makarov found you.