Hey guys, NukeIt9er here, this story is going to feature Mark 'Mute' Chandar. There isn't much more to say, so let's get into it. * At the cafeteria room, there were different tables made for all the different nationalities. They were, however, usually broken. Buck usually sat with the GSG9, Frost with Spetsnaz, and all other sorts of chaos. However, I almost always sat with my friends from the SAS British forces, along with sometimes Blitz. Today, I had Blitz stay with us, and as well as Castle, who I never really talked to. "So, Mark, James, you hear what's going on? Apparently it's the whole Jazz today. For good reason, too.", Castle gossiped, all while being muffled with chicken in his mouth. I swear there is a racist joke here somewhere, but I couldn't make a funny one, nor stoop to 'that' level of society. Castle continues, "There is a huge group of narco terrorists somewhere down in South America. Running a worldwide drug deal." Blitz intervenes, "I've seen some stuff, and that sounds like a suicide mission to go against a group like that, even with everyone here combined." "Shut up, German boy, you haven't seen jack fookn shit. I've been in the service for longer than you've been breathing." Thatcher angerely retaliated. "Anyways," Castle continued. "You said it would be suicide with, what, 40 trained soldiers plus all those new rookies? They have 4 people against the terrorists." Almost everyone's jaw dropped through the fucking floor. And rightfully so. "Well fook, they've got my respect." Smoke replied. "I can second that." Sledge said, almost the first time talking today. "Well, other than something going on almost half way across the world, nothing much is new." Castle finished. He then walked back to his usual spot within the FBI SWAT table. "Well that was unusual." Sledge remarked. "Indeed." Thatcher replied. After lunch, we went back to our training stations. Defenders on long range combat, attackers on CQB combat. It was all your normal day. Wake up, eat, train, eat, sleep. Same thing, different day. It could get very boring often, even with off days. Some would say being assigned to a mission is a good thing, beside for all the death. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. *tommorow* Code red. The White Masks have made another move, capturing a Cafe, and planting lethal toxic bombs in the building. A squad of 5 from the Rainbow Six headquarters has been sent to diffuse the bombs. We were all watching from the news brand CNN (no product placement), which gave out a frankly inaccurate rundown on the situation. Six's phone rang, and she picked up, hearing what was going on through her ear piece. Her following expression made my heart skip a beat. Had the mission failed? Have 2 of my friends died to these spiritless bastard terrorist? To the look of it, Six hung up. "This is worse than we thought. These bombs that our squad sent to diffuse are more encrypted than we interpreted. We need another squad of reinforcements to defends the bombs while they are diffusing. Our current force is not equipped to defend a point." Luckily, no one has died. But they will without our help. "We have no time for team leaders, or a well thought plan." Six though for a brief second. "Alexandr," Tachanka stood up. An obvious choice. That DP-28 of his is great for defense. "Gustave," Doc stands up. Of course, Doc. If anyone goes down, he should be able to help. "Julien," Rook stands up. Rook is a good guy, and his extra armor plates for everyone would be beneficial. "James," by closest buddy Smoke stands up. Don't get too hurt, it won't be the same without you. "And Mark," Oh fook. That almost became audible. I stand up, waiting for her to continue. "You 5 will be sent to the target location ASAP. Get your equipment and meet at the air strip." Oh boy, skydiving too! I grab my usual equipment. 4 radio jammers, an MP5k with a compensator, my trusty P226, my famous gas mask, my combat suit, my newly polished Deployable Shield, and my new lucky charm that I hook to my gun. I meet up with the rest of the crew at the Airstrip, by our ride to our possible doom. "Why is there a baguette on your gun?" I look over to see Doc smirking. I'm mildly triggered, but don't show it. "It's my lucky charm." I reply sheepishly in defense, only to get more laughter. I see Tachanka pull out his phone and take a picture. "This is goings onto the Face of Book." Tachanka smirks. Smoke remarks, "It's called Facebook, not Face of Book, you bloody man-bear." Room comments, "Was that supposed to be an insult?" I could see Smoke about to reply, only to be cut of off by Six. "Ladies, calm down. And... is that a baguette?" I hastily reply, "You know what, maybe it fooking is!" "Language." Six was always strict about language. Not that anyone really followed, except for maybe Twitch or Frost. Her death stare forced an apology out of me, then we hopped in the jet. I don't recognize the pilot, but it doesn't really matter. Soon, what seemed like hours, we are given parachutes and are told to jump in 5 seconds, as they open the door. Fortunately, no one got hurt before we even started. We finally meet up with the original diffusers. I see Thermite, with only 1 mag left on him. "Holy shit I'm glad to see you, Mark. We've barely been able to hold off. Eliza only has 3 shots left in her pistol, and Mike has taken out 3 people with only his knife." I can hear a distant voice, "4." Must be Thatcher. Glaz is just outside, propped up on a nearby building. I'd imagine he is really low. In the distance, I hear a door breaking. They must have gotten word their friends were dead. "Shit, we've got company." Smoke points out. I set up my shield and block off any possible scouting with 2 of my jammers. I put one behind me so they can't breach behind, and I give the other to Tachanka, so he doesn't get flanked. Only do I just now look around. It looks like we're in some room that looks like it was build by a train fanatic. They called it 'Train Museum' in the rundown, but it doesn't look very museum like to me. Only now do I hear gunshots, followed by a 'chankachankachankachankachanka'. Looks like good ol' Alex has them covered. BANG. "Shit, they're in.", I announce. The first guy was a moron. He ran right to the diffuser. Smoke took him down with his preferred pump shotgun. The others weren't so easy. 2 of them had LMG's firing on my position. "Thank God for this bloody shield.", I say to myself. Doc peeks from his cover and takes one down with a clean headshot from his MP5. Rook shoots at the other gunner, but only stuns him. I take advantage and take him with a clean shot to the head. 'chankachankachankachanka'. "Damn," I think to myself. "Alex really is badass." Another 2 whitemasks find us, but they have shields this time. Their time with us was short lived, as Smoke throws one of his 'toxic babes' at them. They cough and fall to the ground as a dark mustard color gas surrounds them. Smoke gets out of cover and checks the other room. He rubs in and sees no one. They must have entered through the window, because that was open. As he walks back, he failed to see a suicide bomber behind him. I scream with the top of my lungs, "BOMBER". Smoke runs, but not fast enough. BOOM. My ears ring, as I see my friend on the ground. Doc instantly ran to Smoke and dragged him to cover. I run over as well, providing covering fire. I hear Smoke cough up blood, and say, "Bloody fuck, he got me." He coughs a fit. "Had Mark not been here, I'd be all over the bloody wall." Doc does what he can, and stops the bleeding. "It appears his leg is broken from the blast." Smoke intervenes, "Leg or not, I can still fight." He pulls out his SMG-11, but flies out of his hand from the sheer rate of fire. He grunts in disappointment. "Here, take this, got a lot less recoil." I give him my pistol. Doc warned, "You can fight, but there is only so much I can patch up." 'chankachankachanka' bang bang. I hear a yell. "Fuck, dude. How long can we keep this up?" I notice Rook is holding his ground well. Shot after shot, kill after kill, he recovered and fights once again. I just now remember that a few of the attackers still remain, as I cast a glance at Thermite. Ash probably used her three shots a while ago, and awe are looking more desperate than ever. I remember Tachanka is down, and I rush to him. Bang bang bang bang. It never stops. I see while Tachanka has been shot in the shoulder, he still fired from the ground, one handing his smg. I was about to help cover for Tachanka when I hear a sound that almost killed me my just listening. *click*. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I blew all my ammo covering for Doc, and gave Smoke my pistol. I rush to a dead terrorist, spotting an M1014, hoping that it's loaded. Pow. Pow. Pow. Every shot I take is a gamble. I pick up a new gun, only to find it empty. I hear another yelp. This one is Rook. "Go, Mark. Julien is in trouble. I will be fine." I nod and saw something bad. Very bad. The terrorist were in the room, someone at the diffuser. So I did the impossible. I hopped onto Tachanka's turret, and pressed the trigger. It was almost like I wasn't in control. *chankachanka* Damn, this thing had recoil, but I managed. *chankachanka* I counted in my head. *chankachankachanka* One down, *chankachanka* Two down. *chankachankachanka* 3... 4... 5, 6... they were dropping like flies. And then I saw it. The bombs stopped steaming. The diffusing process was complete. Doc radioed in, telling Six that the bomb was diffused successfully. Now there is only 1 problem. Getting out of here. By the time I got off the turret, Tachanka was up again. "Hoooly Shit." I assumed he was talking to me. "You can praise me later, Alex, but we must help our friends." Tachanka agreed, "We must assist comerades." The rest went by like a blur. Doc and I carried Smoke back to the helicopter, and Tachanka and Rook leaned on each other for the walk out, each a pistol in hand. I'm glad when get to the helicopter, half because that means it's over, and half because I'll pass on skydiving again. We also meet Ash, Thermite, Thatcher, and a recruit at the heli. "That was quite the performance." Thermite praised. "Sure as hell was.", Thatcher seconded. We flew back home, and by then everyone heard of the victory, and some the greatness I pulled off. We meet back at base, and as soon as I see Blitz, I give him the biggest goddamn hug I've ever given. "I'm glad you didn't die," Blitz proclaimed. "Me too, Elias. Me too." "And one thing, Mark." "Yes?" "Why is there a baguette on your gun?"