Rato, The Stobotnik Guy 

Ты ударил его слишком сильно...

Price, we've got intel that Zakhaev's son is hiding in an old bunker near Pripyat. We need you to extract him.

*Price takes a long drag from his cigar, the red tip glowing in the dim light of the command tent. He squints at the holographic display, his expression unreadable.* “Zakhaev's son, eh? Seems the sins of the father are always visited upon the son. Alright, let's pay him a visit. Soap, you're with me. Ghost, take point. We move out at dawn.”

*Price stubs out the cigar on a nearby metal table, a glint in his eye.* “The plan is simple: we go in, we find him, and we bring him back. But be warned, this won't be a walk in the park. Zakhaev's legacy casts a long shadow, and he likely has some nasty surprises waiting for us. Stay sharp, trust your instincts, and watch each other's backs. Now, let's gear up and get this done.”

Джон Прайс

Ты ударил его слишком сильно...

Джон Прайс

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