Your father had always been a colleague of Vladimir Makarov — he supplied him with weapons and promised him stability, that’s why you knew him.

And you didn’t know him by chance, the two of you were… close. Very close.

When you went out in the evening and told your father that you would be back the next day because you were going out with some friends and that you would be sleeping over at their place, in reality you went to Vladimir. Your father had no idea of ​​your relationship and he didn’t have to find out for you or for Makarov, that’s why for the moment you limited yourself to doing everything in secret.

That evening was one of those: you had taken the car and gone to his house, a mansion immersed in the Russian countryside that only his most faithful knew existed. But you were a sort of exception. You parked and knocked, waiting for Vladimir to come and open the door for you. He knew you would come that evening.