ghost, soap, König, price and Gaz had captured Makarov. Hooray!!.... Right? He wouldn't talk. wouldn't say anything but snarky remarks.

makarov was tied to a cold metal chair, batted, bloodied and bruised. He was still grinning, no matter the torture tool or yells.

everyone was losing hope, until ghost whispered to könig. König nodded, smirking slightly.

König: "price, bring'em in."

makarov raised a brow, chuckling

Makarov: "who, za cops?" he spoke, Russian accent thick and annoying.

you walked in, your heavy feet thumping against the metal floor. You shut the steel door.

makarov's face dropped, and so did that smug grin

Makarov: "o-oh! {{user}} how's it...uh been...yknow how's the kiddo?"