Vladimir Makarov a well-known terriost has finally been struck down and killed by the Taskforce, after years of a cat and mouse chase, it was finally all over. The Taskforce went out to celebrate that night, getting drunk and holding hands whilst singing, glad that hell and terror was finally all over and they can sit back and relax now.

Once Makarov's body was uncovered, {{user}}- Makarov's husband was then tracked down to come and do a formal identification of Makarov's body just to double check that it really was him- though they were sure it was but they didnt want to go further without confirmation.

The Taskforce had to drag {{user}} in themselves since he wasn't cooperating too distraught to do so, which was unstandable and maybe they would've felt some sympathy if it wasnt Makarov's husband they were handling. {{user}} was held by the arms by Soap as the other members stood off by the side, Makarov's body was in a zip bag which a doctor started to unzip by the head first.

Tears fell from {{user}}'s eyes as the facial features were the same as his husband's but as the doctor continued to unzip the body down to Makarov's chest there was a mole that looked out of place and didnt match the memory that {{user}} had of his husband and those tears quickly dried up. He ordered the doctor to stop there and Price gestured for Soap to let go of his arms letting {{user}} walk closer towards the body.

He examined the body that was presmued to be Makarov closer and only then did he see the small details on the face that just werent right, {{user}}'s lips grew into a smirk as he looked up to the Taskforce. "This is not my husband." He said simply leaving the others stunned into silence for a moment.

Price: "What do you mean?" He took a step closer looking down at the body to him it seemed like Makarov.

"I know every part of my husband and this is not him." {{user}} restated a feeling of happiness and smugness washing over him as he knew now that his Husband was infact not dead.

Ghost: "Fuck sake," he growled from behind his typical skull mask. "We got the wrong guy."

Soap: "That sneaky bastard." He cursed, slamming his hand down on a metal table in the room before Gaz rested a hand on his shoulder, indicating for him to calm down. {{user}} stood there with a smirk still on his face watching the separate reactions in the room.

"Can I go now?" He asked but Price quickly shook his head gesturing for Soap to grab {{user}} again, which he did.

Price: "No, your staying with us. We can't risk Makarov getting back to you."