If you'd asked me back then, what did the White Masks stood for? What was our endgame? I'd say two things as I've mentioned earlier.
The first, peace in this world; no more resource wars, no backroom deals, no more unnecessary intrusions into the middle east and secondly was prosperity for all. We wanted a world filled with responsible leaders who'd in turn foster responsible citizens. But in order to achieve that, alot of people were going to die.
Humanity's history has always been written in blood. Sad to say but its true. Even though we'd like to delude ourselves as superior, intelligent and "civilised" creatures, the ugly truth that nobody wants to admit is that homo sapiens, human beings harbor an extremely dangerous capacity for violence. We've simply evolved from murdering one another with clubs to outright extermination with the push of a button. In the words of the biologists, we're simply over-glorified apes.
The liberty, egalite, fraternaty crap the French so selflessly flaunt about? That came only after the French Revolution and the Reign Of Terror. Hell, our country's independence itself could be argued to have been brought forward by rebellious militia, who without a doubt would be condemned as terrorists by modern day standards.
If the world leaders weren't willing to get off their high horses and fix poverty, crime and pollution then the enlightened ones would have to do it for them with a heavy hand.
But now, if you'd ask me the same question, I'd hang my head in shame and tell you the White Masks were a symptom. A symptom of injustice and corruption spread by those in power until the oppressed themselves become the oppressors. A self-destructive cycle that leaves no winners.
Contrary to what you've been fed from the government, the White Masks weren't entirely comprised of Americans despite our origins here in the United States. We recruited members from across the globe, anyone was welcome to join so long as they had the heart to do whatever that was necessary to achieve our end goal. Some of our members were powerful men of influence sympathetic to our cause and thanks to their funding, we formed a large international network between various cells and this made it easy for us to move weapons, ammunition and manpower around. There's a reason we wore those masks, to show that we were endless, faceless and relentless in pursuit of our goals.
The very definition of an unknown quantity.
But if you must ask, why the color white? Nobody knows, that answer lies with the founder of our organization. The late Jeremiah Scott. Though many suspect he was simply paying homage to the character 'V'.
October 23rd 2017 marked the first major conflict between the White Masks and Team Rainbow Six.
The day after I've just met Ela.
The meeting I rushed off to dragged all the way till 1am, can you believe that? The commanders enacted contingency plans, all sorts of fuckshit countermeasures that I've never seen or heard of before.
But to give you the gist, all of our operations overseas were effectively severed, they were still White Mask yet were ordered to function independently in order to create the hydra effect; cut off one head and two more pop up. This is to ensure the organization's survival overseas until the order is given for the remaining cells to rejoin the main body. But here in the mainland, we continue functioning as one unit. Whenever a hideout or key installations were raided, any powerbase within 50 klicks were to immediately reinforce and move the contents to a more secure location. Surrender was not an option and each member was given a cyanide pill to bite on should the possibility of being captured was very high.
I still have the cyanide pill locked away in my room's safe. To remind me how close I was to taking my own life in order protect the White Mask's interests. Though my wife disagrees with me having that thing in the house, I've assured her its simply a momento of my past life. Nothing more.
Some of the men in the White Masks were veterans from the military and every single one of them saw action in the middle east. They were the pioneers that laid the bedrock for our combat training. After all, you can't take a disgruntled office worker and turn him into a professional killer based on books and theory alone, you needed solid groundwork and these guys did their jobs real well. Too well, might I say. Just dig into the news archives and see how hard we raped the cops. There were times we even wiped out entire SWAT teams though they hushed it all up.
Bad for morale.
Our trainers were mostly ex-Army troopers and Marines. We do have our own rag tag commando teams. A mismatch outfit filled with ex-special forces. MARSOC, Green Beret, SEALS, you name it. These men were patriots who'd bled for God and Country, men who had comrades, brothers die in their arms in the field of battle and still carried through. Men who gave all they had but were cast aside like used condoms once their usefulness had run its course. Society shunned them while the government turned a blind eye as these helpless and now jobless men of war rotated back into the world. How many militant groups out there can boast such an impressively well armed, well funded and well trained fighting force? None.
When I got back into my apartment it was already 2.30. Sun doesn't rise in 2 hours. I charged my phone, toss my clothes in the laundry basket, shower and slept. I remember dreaming about Ela that night, same scene at the bar, same conversation only...it ended up going well as how I'd imagined it to be. Course my wife doesn't believe me when I told her later on in our marriage. After all, it was just a dream.
The next morning? Well the morning passed by uneventfully. I woke up at 10, cooked me some eggs, my wife says I'm a terrible cook by the way, I gulped a glass of orange juice and hooked up with some of my White Mask colleagues up on StarCraft. Yeah, us "terrorists" lead somewhat mundane, simple lives. Like what I said earlier, we're your everyday folk turned professional killers under bad circumstances. I'd like to use this moment here to make an announcement here. Fuck all of yall Protoss players and your fucking death ball and lets not forget your fucking A-move bullshit.
It was shortly after lunch as I hauled my dirty laundry off for a wash, a piece of paper fell offa my shirt pocket. My heart skipped a beat.
Holy shit. I nearly sent my chances with Ela down the drain. Literally!
I zipped to the couch and unlocked my phone. As I keyed in her number a sense of dread entered my gut. What if, it was a fake number? I should have given her a missed call at least before leaving the bar last night. Just being realistic here, we're still strangers at the end of the day, neither truly knows what the other is capable of. Oh man, you have no idea how true that phrase is.
Anyways I was real glad it was her real number. How do I know? Simple, you check her whatsapp photo man, sure enough it was a selfie of her...with a submachine gun and a grey camo jacket. Its a Scorpion EVO, I know that now but back then it I just coined it an SMG; short length, short barrel, dead giveaways. Ela's a gun enthusiast, okay, that came as a surprise to me. There's clearly more to her than meets the eye.
I don't have much today aside from my "night shift" which starts at midnight. I think we were gonna learn how to rig and prime IEDs or was it hacking basic softwares. So I just decided to pop a seemingly harmless text. Prod and probe, see if she's still receptive and see where things go from there. There's a new cafe downtown I saw in the cab on my way back from my day job, perfect place for a test run.
Me (12:47): Hey Elz, remember me? That guy you nearly murdered in the bar xD
There. Was it cheesy? Lame? Too..plain? I dunno, I've never texted a stranger opposite sex before so all this was new to me. Hmm, I think I decided to watch a Netflix series while waiting for her reply.
Ela (12:51): Hey, of course ;)
Umm...okay, contact has been established. Now what?
Me (12:52): Awesome. You know I was half expecting a fake number ahaha jk
Her (12:52): O_o omg nooo, I'm not that evil ;P
Me (12:53): No, really I was thinking this buff black guy's gon reply stuff like nigga who you but glad to know you're the real deal.
Her (12:53): Ahahaha
Me (12:53): So you know there's a new cafe I saw open up. I'm eager to try out their menu. Need someone to help out with a lil tasting and I was thinking you cos you said about meeting for coffee. Wanna come?
I gave a frown, was the message too long? A few advices given to me long ago back in College was that girls hate long text. Did I just shoot myself in the foot? Would she percieve it as a date and try to weasel her way out of this? Lots of paranoid shit ran through my head. Gimme a break guys I was a newbie back then, don't judge me. Come to think of it, I did wanted to make it a date between us. Get to know her better, enjoy the scenery, the coffee. And then...
Ela (12:54): Sorry, I'm busy now. Can we meet later after 5?
Holy fricken shit! Jackpot! I decided to waste some time first, smoke a cigarette, add finishing touches to that report due on Monday, don't want her to think me as some desperate creep hounding after the next text.
Me (13:27): Sure, and this time you'll get to pay for your own coffee :p
Ela (13:31): Ahahaha
To keep it simple I sent her the address and we planned to meetup at 6. Was it still too late for coffee? I dunno I mean technically people drink that stuff to keep em up at night so...yeah. I spent the next 4 hours napping, then continued some ranked matches, again, fuck all yall Protoss players and then freshened up for my very first date.
Before I left the house, Miles sent me a text reminding me to be at the warehouse by midnight. Jeez, work doesn't start in 6 hours I'm telling you the guy's a workaholic! Maths teacher cum part time boy scout instructor by day, and well you know what he does at night. Even worse as a local commander he handles most of the meetings, the documents and handling of manpower. How he juggles all that hectic shit and keep his wife and kids away from his dark life, I will never know. And here I admit that I loved that guy, no homo. Sad to say he's dead now. He may be just another terrorist to you readers but he was the man everyone who knew him looked up to when shit hits the fan and he went out in a blaze of glory. It was painful watching him take one for the team and it haunts me still.
I look forward to telling his glorious final moments very soon. As it was before I sidetracked in my story, I had a date to catch and coffee to try out.