CONTROL ROOM, HEREFORD, ENGLAND
MARCH 4, 2019
1300 HOURS
"They're still going to do it, aren't they?"
Ding Chavez sighed. "It's probably your influence, Bishop."
Bishop snorted in response. "Yeah, but this isn't the same as when Gabe tried to sell us all out. And might I remind you that you have a history of defying orders as well?"
"I guess that's fair." They both turned back to the monitors. "What now?"
"We give 'em hell when they get back," Deputy Director Bishop answered. "Then... then we tell them to pack their things."
"Hard to believe this is over," Ding said.
"I know." Bishop shut her eyes, sparing a moment to just listen to the hum of computers around them, before opening them and turning to her old friend. "I'm sorry, Ding. We did the best we could."
Ding didn't have a reply to that. He was too busy watching the blinking dots on the monitor, indicating their men, as they proceeded with the plan that he had supposedly pulled the plug on just five minutes ago. Stubborn bastards, he thought. It hardly made a difference anymore. They'd done the best they could, Bishop was right. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
-0-
TEAM-1 BUILDING, HEREFORD, ENGLAND
MARCH 5, 2019
0930 HOURS
Logan Keller narrowed his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, we're duty bound to stop people like him from continuing to harm innocent people."
"All due respect, my ass," Bishop said. "I know you had good intentions, Keller, but you defied a direct order, end of story. Not that it matters anymore." She ran a hand through her hair as she thought of a way to make it clear.
"So it's really true?" Roger McAllen asked. "Rainbow is over?"
"Yes, it really is." Ding came over to stand by Bishop. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, hand behind his back, looking at his people - not his for much longer - these men and women who he'd had the privilege of leading into battle for over ten years. And suddenly, the nations that had once supported such a cause had pulled the rug out from under them in the name of solidarity, and in the middle of an important operation, no less. "I'm sorry, team. We tried negotiating, but all the governments involved are having none of it."
Bishop rubbed at her temples. "God, don't remind me."
"So what do we do now, sir?" Homer Johnston asked, speaking for the team.
Ding looked at Bishop, who addressed the small group once more. "Call your respective militaries, get something set up. Talk to Alice or Helen if you need help with it. Then, unless you're a British national, I'd get out of here. You guys know the news. There's... trouble coming. War, maybe. Your nations will need you." She frowned. "Apparently more than an international CT unit does."
A tense silence engulfed the room, followed by men starting to sit down at their desks to sort through the paperwork. A few lingered on their feet and several more stared after Rainbows Six and Five as they walked away, but eventually they were all busy, typing and talking away on computers and phones, trying to find order where it once existed. They were off the radar now. Completely off of it, since the organization they were members of had finally disappeared for good.
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DEPUTY DIRECTOR'S OFFICE, HEREFORD, ENGLAND
MARCH 5, 2019
1500 HOURS
The knock on the door was no surprise, and neither was the face that poked into the doorway. "Come in," Bishop said, knowing who it was without looking up.
Homer Johnston gave her a weak smile as he walked to her desk. "Did you really try everything? Incessant whining, whinging, throwing tantrums, the like?"
"Only you would do that," Bishop said, giving him a deadpan look, "and it never would have worked, which is why I'm glad we never promoted you."
He winced a little at that. "Ouch."
Bishop continued typing and checking documents for another minute before she looked him in the eye again. "You can sit down, you know." He dutifully took a seat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Have you gotten everything settled? Do you have a place to go?"
"Yeah." He shrugged.
"'Yeah'?"
"Yeah. Military's always looking for good people, I'm sure you know. Could go back to the Green Berets."
"So, you have nothing set up then."
He scratched his head and looked away sheepishly. "Yeah."
She laughed, and he glanced up. The sound of Bishop laughing was uncommon, and he'd learned to relish it, to love it almost as much as he loved her. "More defying orders? Who are you, Logan?"
He made a dramatic flourish. "Me? Oh, you wound me." That earned him another laugh, and he leaned over the desk to place a kiss on the pronounced apple of her cheek. She took his hand then, fingers going over the calluses on his palm in a movement familiar to both of them. "What about you?" he asked her. "You should probably get out of here, too."
She sighed. "I don't know yet. Still sorting out all the details of Rainbow. Paperwork, as you know," she said, making a gesture to the papers scattered on her desk. "Maybe CIA, if they're accepting people like me. I imagine what I know would be useful. And I have enough money to go back to school for my master's, but I'd rather keep that money for the little one."
Homer glanced at the photo on her desk of the young woman who was Bishop's daughter. "I'd hardly call her little anymore," he said, though he easily remembered when she was just a little pink thing wrapped in a bundle of blankets. "She's, what, fifteen?"
"Fourteen."
"Close enough. But yeah, I get what you mean."
She was still holding his hand. He gave hers a little squeeze, which was answered by one of her own. "Things are bad out there," she said.
"Didn't have to tell me twice," he replied. Then he looked in her eyes, staring until she stared back at him. "Are you afraid?"
She didn't blink when she spoke. "Aren't you?"
-0-
a/n Wrote this really quickly one night. Events are based on the Tom Clancy's EndWar timeline (I believe this is being moved out of canon), the short story The End Begins: Rainbow Six, plus my own characterization.
This is currently a oneshot, but I'll continue if there's enough interest. Leave a review if you like it or have suggestions. Thanks for reading.