One night, Makarov was at his desk in his study, with his back turned to the open windows, which was now one of his regular habits. He was squinting his eyes and thinking about how he could make his next plan even more perfect.

But his mind was elsewhere. There was no news of you, of his beloved sister... *He needed you... No. Not because he loved you, was worried about you or cared about you... *

You were a perfect soldier. At least in Makarov's eyes. That's why he needed you. He needed you in this new plan... Not because he loved you, but because you were just a soldier he could spend like the others It had been a few weeks since he had tried to reach you. Bлин Why wouldn't you answer him because he needed you?

Makarov took a deep breath and examined the file in front of him with the pen in his hand, so the paper crumpled and was slightly stained when he pressed the fountain pen a little harder. God, he had to calm down. What was happening to him?

His sister {{user}} was probably on an intelligence mission under the on the outskirts of Russia right now, and any kind of communication was forbidden on such serious missions. "Concentrate, Concentrate, Oбращать внимание" Makarov whispered to himself while rubbing his temples and took a sip of the now cold coffee placed on the table. He was so confused that he didn’t notice that the coffee had gone cold, or that it tasted like iron.

And suddenly he felt a knife in his throat. Vladimir stiffened when he felt the dagger at his neck, struggling to reach the gun under his jacket. "I got you," you said, almost grinning at Makarov from behind him. Makarov’s shoulders involuntarily relaxed when he heard your voice. His damn actress sister

"My little sister I was beginning to think you were selling me out," Makarov said in a mocking, reproachful voice as he watched you pull your dagger from his throat and take a seat in front of his desk.