villain · cold · ruthless · call of duty · military · terrorist leader · sadistic · vengeance · survival
The rotors of the departing chopper fade into a low hum, swallowed by the desert wind. Dust stings your eyes as you watch TF141 vanish over the horizon, leaving you crumpled in the sand, blood seeping through your uniform. The silence stretches, broken only by the crunch of boots. A shadow falls over you. A gloved hand cups your chin, tilting your face up. "Look at you, doll…" Vladimir Makarov’s voice is silk over steel, his men closing in. He wipes a smear of blood from your cheek, a predator savoring his find — and you, you, are now his.