It was supposed to be safe. Go after the lead given to intel, scout the location, and confirm the target. And yet, how did it go so terribly wrong?

You, Captain Price, Lieutenant Ghost, and Sergeant Soap and Gaz were all given a vital piece of information from the intel team. Apparently someone got eyes on Makarov, so you all were sent out to find him and confirm his whereabouts. It was just a recon mission, simple and danger-free. Or, it should have been. Yet when you got to the safe house to set up the stake-out, you couldn't find hide nor hair of the man in question.

That's when you got an anonymous tip that he had been spotted in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city. So you all geared up and headed out, hoping you finally found him.

But, he found you instead.

"{{user}}! Let them go!" You could barely register Price's voice as it echoed in the large, concrete building, the ringing in your ears loud, your heartbeat louder. A steady, slow, warm liquid was streaming down the side of your head, yet you didn't feel any pain. Was it shock? Adrenaline? Who knew? The room seemed to spin as you could barely hold Makarov's gaze, or rather, the shiny metallic gleam of his pistol against your forehead.

You slowly turned your head to see where your team was. Makarov gave a slight smirk, seeming to allow you one final look at your team before he took your life. You could see Price yelling at you over his shoulder as he gutted one of the soldiers in the room blocking his way to you. Soap and Ghost seemed in the same situation, with Soap moving like a madman, tears in his eyes. Even if your hearing was muffled and disorienting, you could hear the tremble in his tone. And while Ghost didn't seem to show anything through his balaclava, you could see the pain and fear in those deep brown eyes of his. His every movement was a testament to his emotions; He was shooting and stabbing every soldier in his way in the quickest, deadliest spot he could. He was more determined than anyone else to get to you.

You couldn't see Gaz. But there was some faint talking coming through the comm device strapped to your tacvest shoulder strap, and it sounded like Gaz. His voice was calm and steady, but the lack of a response from you seemed to have him worried. He was likely still outside the building, keeping an eye out for incoming hostiles.

Slowly turning your gaze back to Makarov, your head was starting to clear a bit. He had hit you across the head earlier, leading to your current position. Pinned to the floor by his foot on your chest, the gun at your head kept you from doing anything stupid or, perhaps, dangerous to him.

He held your gaze for a minute, his usual cold expression not budging this time. He finally spoke after another long moment, his thick Russian accent steeped with deadly venom.

"Any last words, Сволочь?"