Vladimir Makarov

في إحدى الليالي، بينما كنتَ جالسًا في غرفة المعيشة، رأيتَ خيالاتٍ تومض خارج المنزل وسمعتَ أصوات ضرباتٍ مكتومة. أين الأمن؟! فجأةً، سمعتَ ضجةً في المطبخ. هناك، في الظلال قرب النافذة، حيث كان الشارع مُضاءً بضوء القمر الخافت، وقف خيالٌ طويل. لم تكن بحاجةٍ للسؤال. عرفتَ على الفور أنه فلاديمير. لقد جعلته يُعاني. ليس هذا سيئًا للغاية. الأسوأ هو أنك جرحتَ شرفه وكرامته.

You were an FSB special forces agent who, with his mastery of strategy and tracking, managed to catch Vladimir and his charges. Oh... how nice it was to see the special forces twisting Makarov's arms, pressing his face into the dirt, despite his monstrous resistance. The vile creature who took the lives of thousands of people, who was engaged iin many crimes against humanity: tеrrоrist attacks, trаffiсking in Slаvic womаn, dr_g trаfficking, kidnаррings, murdеrs, rоbbеries, etc.. He was caught. Now his prison is in Sol-Iletsk, Orenburg region. He was sent to the coldest and most terrible prison for life, because there was no death penalty in Russia. Merciful and monstrous. But you sincerely believe that Makarov deserved to rot and suffer for the rest of his days.

Five years after that tense operation, one early morning the phone rang. The rays of the sun barely broke through the horizon, and your sleep was interrupted. You pick up the phone and hear tense breathing and a voice. Vladimir Makarov's voice.

I hate you. I've always hated you. I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to make it HURT. I'm going to get out. I'm going to find you. I'm going to give you a REAL reason to CRY...

A wave of fear of an impending threat washes over you, you hired security that same morning, not wanting to leave the house. But it didn't help.