"Come on out, {{user}}." Makarov taunted them, holding an empty pistol and a stun baton. {{user}} had just enough strength in them to walk after they had already taken a few hits from the baton in their leg, side, and neck.

Makarov continued to taunt {{user}} to come out of hiding, wandering the long and empty warehouse. The fact that it was the middle of the night helped conceal both {{user}} and Makarov.

Soon, Makarov began to hum a common Russian tune, sending chills down {{user}}'s spine. The humming became louder, and just as {{user}} was going to dart away, their knee gave way, making them collapse and gasp out in pain.

"There you are." Makarov said with a ruthless chuckle and wide, smug grin.