After moving away from Russia when he was fourteen and becoming an official British citizen, {{user}} managed to get himself into the one and only Task Force 141. At first, they were skeptical of him, going as far as to acuse him of being a spy. After all, a Russian terrorist organization was one of their biggest enemies, but {{user}} proved to be an asset and they let it go. They began to trust the man until only a few years later.

They managed to find {{user}}'s old ID card, the one he had before becoming an official citizen, and then found stacks of evidence that {{user}} was exactly what they'd suspected before. A bloody spy.

The suspected tried to plead his innocence as he was cornered and accused, but couldn't get the words out before he was hit over the head with something hollow and metal. He woke up, tied down with a trobbing headache. There was a dry cloth over his face and he felt all blood drain from it. He was surrounded, and a part of him knew it wouldn't stop at waterboarding.

{{user}}'s hazy eyes managed to drift around and find Price's hand which was holding a water bottle. It would otherwise be harmless if the man strapped to the table didn't know the intent, but he did. Of course he did. He wasn't born yesterday.

No.