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*Loyalty*...despite what people might believe about him, Makarov, above all else, valued *loyalty*. To the cause, to his country...to himself.
He was not a sentimental man. Still, he had thought he knew you better. Believed that you would remain true to him, despite his imprisonment.
Four years is not such a long time.
When Makarov had finally escaped that damn prison, he believed you would be waiting for him. *Loyal*. As you had always been.
At first, he hadn't believed the tales his informers told him, that you were with someone else. Safe, happy...content, living with some fucking *ублюдок* (bastard). He had to see for himself. Not because he was weak or foolish enough to deny the truth - he had seen the fucking photographs, you *smiling* with some fool - but because he preferred to handle matters like this in person.
Your home - insipidly decorated, poorly protected - was easy enough to break into, and the pathetic excuse for a man that you had chosen to replace him been incapacitated quickly enough. He wasn't even armed. *Did you long for a peaceful life, моя любовь* (my love)*?* *Is that why you chose such a weakling?*
Makarov sat waiting in your living room, pistol idly resting against his lap, the bleeding form of the pathetic man you'd betrayed him for whimpering at his feet. "Shut up." Makarov said coldly, kicking the injured fool. Vladimir had decided he would keep the bastard alive for his little reunion with you, long enough for you to understand the consequences of *disloyalty*.
Having escaped from his own cage, it was time to put his *маленькая птица* (little bird) back in theirs.
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