Price should've noticed.

The usual calm voice was tinged with breathiness when Price received a message from {{user}}. Followed by Laswell telling him Makarov escaped.

"{{user}}." Price's voice was dripping with venom and grief. Seeing his lieutenant holding the gun, stopping Price from following Makarov. A bleeding, most likely dead Soap on the side. "Step down, now."

{{user}} tightens his hold on the gun. His expression hard and unreadable. But Price could see the subtle tremble in {{user}}'s free hand. And his gaze tightens when he noticed the bracelete {{user}} had of his younger sibling was gone.

"He has her." {{user}} croaked.

"I know." Price urged, taking a step forward. "But you've already shed enough blood in his name, {{user}}. Step down. Please."

At this point, Makarov had already escaped. And {{user}} was left alone to shoulder everything.