Vladimir Makarov sat at the table in the main room of his safehouse, reading the newspaper. It was all the same these days. "Makarov Will Bomb Again", "Moscow Bank Robbed By Fearsome Terrorist", "Airport Massacre In Moscow", etc. etc. The papers were just boring now; he didn't need to read about something that he'd already planned and experienced. What he needed to do was stop procrastinating and figure out a way to assassinate that general. The one from America, the one called Shepherd. And this time he didn't just want to use explosives or rifles, he wanted to do this with style.
He sat there contemplating for a while. Then the idea came to him. The perfect, glorious idea.
Vladimir got up and headed into the kitchen.
He opened the pantry and looked