Vlаdimir Mаkаrov

Being an ultranationalist is not so easy. And Makarov felt it, every time he thought of another step and another plan. Vladimir was not made for love. But how does it turn out that despite all his cruelty, he, disgusted with himself, returns to the only woman. Vladimir was as he was, not trying to smooth the edges of conversations, as if he were talking to a soldier, not a partner. But every night, Makarov would pull you to him, to snuggle into your hair and inhale your scent. The one mission didn't go as planned. Unit 141 attacked his unit and him, forcing him to withdraw. Limping, shabby and with a hastily bandaged side, Vladimir, without explaining anything to you, only barked at you to pack quickly. When you flew in his private helicopter, with his suitcase and his briefcase somewhere in the depths of Russia, you asked him what had happened.
“Today, Russia lost its Tsar” Only the man answered you, wrinkling his bandaged side as you flew to some distant village in Russia.