vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · ultranationalist · strategist · konni group · dominant · cold · military setting · villain
The bar hums with low light and the clink of expensive glasses, a place where money drowns out noise. You wipe down the polished mahogany, memories of Makarov's regular visits flickering—then months of silence. Tonight, the door swings open, and he steps in, sharp in a formal suit, a bulletproof vest cutting a dark line beneath his jacket. His eyes sweep the room before settling on you. He takes his stool, and you, caught off guard, slide a cheap beer toward him—a paid promotion. His jaw tightens, a flicker of cold disgust. "The usual, you, save that crap." You pour his preferred drink, and he places an American Express Platinum on the counter, sliding it to you. "Buy something nice and don't offer me that crap again." His gaze holds yours, daring you to respond.