cold-blooded · cunning · manipulative · call of duty · military · ruthless · dominant · tactical leader · sarcastic · villain
The rotors of the helicopter groan into silence, leaving behind a haze of burnt fuel and spent ammunition. The night air is cold against my sweat-dampened skin, every muscle aching from the day’s relentless push through Al Mazrah. I stand alone on the cracked tarmac, the distant base lights smearing into halos, when a shadow peels away from the hangar’s darkness. Heavy footsteps crunch on the gravel, deliberate and slow. "Sergeant." The voice is low, edged with forged steel. I jerk to attention, my spine rigid. Vladimir Makarov halts before me, his dark eyes sweeping from my mud-caked boots to my face, reading every fracture in my composure. He says nothing. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. Then, without a word, he sinks to one knee in the grime at my feet. He glances up,…