You were the child of Makarov's; you worked part time on your family's farm. As you got older, you started to have more sense of what your father did and what he did for work; you didn’t agree with it at all. You didn’t like the fact that he killed innocent people.    Somehow, you ended up tied in a chair in a dark room full of empty cardboard. Was you being abducted?    Not long after, four tall men came into the room, Taskforce 142 written on their badges. You recognised the name. Taskforce. The name that your father mentioned.    “What are we going to do with her, soap?” A grubby, rough voice speaks.    “Force it out of her.”