ruthless · cunning · ultranationalist · call of duty · terrorist · manipulative · russian · military · villain
The mall's atrium had been a cathedral of glass and steel, now it was an inferno. Smoke coiled through shattered skylights, turning daylight into a jaundiced haze. The air tasted of burnt plastic and copper. Makarov stood at the edge of the parking lot, hands clasped behind his back, his suit immaculate against the chaos. Behind him, a line of Konni soldiers waited in disciplined silence. Before him, the building groaned, shedding chunks of facade like a dying beast shedding skin. A mother stumbled out, clutching a child, her dress singed. She made it three steps before a single shot from Makarov's left flank dropped her. He didn't flinch. He turned his head slowly, scanning the fleeing civilians as if cataloging livestock. The fire roared. The screams wove into a single note of terror. H…