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The cell door opened with a loud buzz.
Nikolai welcomed himself in, cautious in his steps as if trying not to disturb the man inside.
The room was small and dimly lit, consisting of only one table and two chairs on opposite sides. Said man was currently sitting at the chair close to the wall, his head bowed and his wrists tied together with cuffs. He didn't bother looking up when Nikolai entered.
Nikolai approached the chair, pulling it towards himself and taking a seat. His eyes never left the other man for a second.
A few moments passed, Nikolai quietly observing the man before him. It felt strange actually sitting across from him for the first time. Makarov looked exactly like he did in the newspapers and the camera footages. Although, slightly less intimidating now with the cuffs tied to his wrists and the grey jumpsuit he wore.
Nikolai remembers seeing him once or twice when they were younger, during his time as an informant inside the Ultranationalists. The organization was operating through multiple divisions and they never had the chance to talk or even acknowledge each other as Nikolai was busy climbing up the ranks. Makarov was probably doing the same, he thought. Two bright young men, with very different ambitions.
Nikolai wanted to see it for himself, that Makarov was finally taken down, his empire crumbling along. He had spent the last few years of his life working towards putting an end to the man's plans. It had been a slow and deliberate process, Nikolai witnessing every single step of it, watching as Makarov unleashed hell upon earth. But all of that was over, and now here he was with the man sitting across from him, stripped of all his power.
"I know you." Makarov breaks the silence, pulling Nikolai from his thoughts.
"I know everyone Price works with. You're his lapdog." He says with a smile, his brown eyes locking directly onto the matching pair across him.
Nikolai keeps his face straight. He knows what kind of a man Makarov is, having studied him long enough to have somewhat of an understanding of his tactics. He won't let Makarov have the upper hand by getting a reaction out of him.
Nikolai simply raises one eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
"I am quite familiar with your work, Nikolai. Russian Air Force, the Allegiance... Your very own Chimera." Makarov knows his enemies, Nikolai expects nothing less from him. He only briefly wonders just how much Makarov actually knows.
"Funny, isn't it? They let just about anyone into our army. Even a traitor such as yourself." He looks straight into Nikolai's eyes with barely contained disgust.
Nikolai is taken aback at first, but decides to indulge. "A traitor?" He smiles, amused.
"Da. A traitor who works with the West against his own country. Tucks his tail behind his legs and cries to the Brits just to save his own skin. What do you call that?"
So, Makarov was aware of the accusations made against him. It wouldn't surprise Nikolai if Makarov was the one behind them in the first place.
"Against my own country? That's a rich accusation coming from an Ultranationalist." Nikolai calmly responds, leaning back against the chair with his arms crossed. "MI6 came to me, just to stop you from starting another World War."
Makarov ignores the comment as he continues, "Not even man enough to accept an honorable death. If I had known you'd be such a problem in my plans, I would've personally seen to your execution." He doesn't even try to hide the resentment in his voice, almost sounding regretful.
"Shame, Nikolai. A man like you would've been a great asset by our side, but you just had to go and sell yourself to the West. I pity you, almost." Hatred hangs from his every word.
Nikolai lets the words wash over him, taking a second to process. It almost amazes him how Makarov still believes that his cause is righteous, even when he's completely powerless and reduced to nothing. It's the end of the road, doesn't he realize that?
"I must have done something very, very wrong if I earned the pity of a man like you." Nikolai responds, unflinching at Makarov's poisonous words.
"You don't see it, do you? Price is using you. That's what they all do." Makarov leans forward, the cuffs clinking against the metal table.
"I would hardly call it using if it meant the end of all the death and destruction caused by your hands." Nikolai leans forward. He was a fairly patient man, but Makarov was slowly working towards getting under his skin. Nikolai had always been a true patriot at heart, it was what drove him so strongly to work against Makarov. It had pained him to see his beloved country get ruined by a man like him for a violent and pointless cause.
"I did everything for the motherland, Nikolai. We grew up watching everything crumble, all of its glory gone and forgotten, turned into a joke by the West. I swore to restore it." Makarov's condescending smile was long gone, his expression troubled instead. "But like most, you lack conviction. Turned puppet at the hands of the West, it's exactly what the ancestors feared." He finishes, wide eyes darting between Nikolai's.
"Do you even hear yourself, Vladimir?" Nikolai would honestly laugh if it wasn't for the fact that the man looked dead serious.
"You did all this for the motherland, killed all those innocent people for what, a greater Russia? Is that what you want me to believe, that you're supposed to be some kind of hero?" Nikolai was genuine in his question, Makarov's words were messing with his head, every confession surprising him even further.
Makarov shakes his head. "Oh, no. I am no hero. I was simply the messenger." He replies, huffing out a laugh.
"I only ignited the flame, and it will only spread from now on. You cannot stop this, Nikolai. All other attempts will fail, just like Mactavish did."
Nikolai's hands twitch at the mention of the Sergeant. There had been many sacrifices made along the way, just to put the man where he was currently locked up, and John Mactavish was only another name in that long list of people who gave up their life.
Nikolai grits his teeth. "You keep his name out your mouth." Memories come flooding back to him, the Lieutenant's devastation, the funeral ceremony, the Captain going off the radar to hunt down the General partly responsible for this. He remembers the young Sargeant, his boisterous laugh and thick accent, his warm and inviting presence. That bright light in his eyes extinguished by the man sitting right in front of him.
Nikolai takes a second to pull himself together. He swallows the lump in his throat, dismissing the sudden urge he has to kill the man right then and there. God knows Makarov would benefit from it, no, Nikolai wasn't here for revenge. He didn't even know what he was here for, his mind was foggy. The man had really succeeded in getting under his skin.
Nikolai pushes his chair back, loudly scratching against the surface. He has to get up and move, regain his focus. Makarov smiles up at him, knowing very well he managed to get inside his head.