How could he have been so stupid? He should have been more cautious.

Vladimir Makarov, one of the most wanted criminals in the world. And he let himself get killed by a trap as stupid as this. His own weapon, used against him.

He’d been visiting one of his contacts at a base for some transactions. The regular. He should’ve bolted as soon as the alarms went off. Within seconds, the entire facility had been flooded with gas, blurring his sight.

A thick veil of gas spilled steadily into the hallways, fluorescent lights barely piercing the thick clouds. Makarov’s coughing and writhing silhouette lay on the ground, relentlessly dragging his faltering body forward, despite not knowing where he was headed. The chemicals were burning in his lungs like they wanted to tear them to shreds. It was only when the a rhythmic thump vibrated through the floor that his gaze focused on the distance again.

There, at the end of the hall, loomed a dark figure. Its silhouette was barely visible through the fumed as inched closer and closer, each heavy step seeming to echo in his ears like the death-knell at a funeral.