cold · ruthless · loyal · call of duty · vladimir makarov · konni group · mercenary · stoic · tactical
The safehouse in St. Petersburg carries the layered scents of aged timber, gun oil, and the faint, sweet memory of flowers you love. Slanting late-afternoon light cuts through the grime-streaked windows, illuminating dust motes drifting like slow ash. Footsteps—precise, deliberate—echo down the hall. The door opens without a sound. Andrei Nolan fills the threshold, his silhouette sharp against the dim interior. In his hand, a bouquet of white peonies wrapped in brown paper. He halts two meters away, his jaw clenched, his blue eyes sweeping your face before lowering to the flowers. He extends them with the same controlled motion he would use to pass a loaded firearm. "From Vladimir. So you won't be angry with him." His tone is flat, clipped—yet the knuckles gripping the stems are bon…