Notice: I took another couple of days to fine-tune everything, mainly because Operation: Grim Sky had just come out and it introduced plenty of things I wanted to reference here. Also, those who played Alpha Protocol might notice a few things that sound familiar. ;)

EPILOGUE

...

"…thus, marking the close of this year's Global Security and Anti-Terrorism Summit in Geneva, following its postponement in the wake of last month's 'Freedom Day' attacks... Delegates from more than fifty countries posed for a final photograph, forming a human chain as a testament to their renewed commitment to work together in both military and diplomatic matters, and quell the threat of violent extremism flourishing across the world... Under-Secretary-General Barston issued a statement assuring that the UN collectively condemns the attacks on America, Europe and elsewhere, promising irrevocable sanctions against countries found guilty of sponsoring or harboring their perpetrators…

…In other news, the House of Representatives has finally passed the Enhanced Domestic Defense Act, and is expected to reach the Senate in time for the first hearing scheduled later this month... Proponents of the bill have already proclaimed a landslide victory, following several days of protests and a 'Liberty March' of hundreds of people in Washington DC, all clamoring for the bill's immediate suspension… If signed by the President, the Act will see a massive reorganization of the country's intelligence and military infrastructure, which some critics fear will lead to the infringement of human rights in pursuit of those deemed "a danger to the state"…

…Senator Patricia Darcy, one of the bill's staunchest supporters, has proposed to rename it the 'Saint-Claire Law' after Madison Saint-Claire, the 21-year-old undergraduate who perished in the attack on Bartlett University. An alumnus of the University's College of Law, Senator Darcy has also unveiled plans to construct a memorial garden at Liberty Hall, remembering the dozens of young men and women who were the first victims in America's worst domestic terrorist campaign in decades..."

...

Pope Army Airfield, Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Outside Hangar Two

Day 50

...

Fiftieth day on the job. Fifty-two days, almost two months, since Bartlett. All was well in the world. Ethan was finally free to focus on more mundane things.

*thud*

"Phew! That takes care of that.", he said to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Tedious work packing the comms gear into the shipping container, on account of his crutches and bandaged right leg. Sweat created a moist stain on his back, ruining the otherwise clean black shirt that matched his trousers. But the hardest part was finally over; the equipment was now sorted and ready to go. Tomorrow would be the flight to England, so there was hardly any time left to be so delicate with Team Rainbow's stuff, most of which were stacked just outside of Hangar Two. Despite his condition, Ethan insisted on lending a hand. It was the least he could do.

It was only right to leave things this way, on a positive note.

Two more days, Ethan. Two more days.

With the deed finally done, he sat on top of one of the crates for a breather. He opened a bottle of cold water resting beside him to quench his thirst, though the temptation to light up a cigarette pestered him to no end. Pope Field's runway provided him with a calm, peaceful scenery. Given recent events, it was quite odd to see the place so empty and lifeless this morning; a dozen Blackhawks might have flown off from this spot when the battle in New York raged all throughout that fateful Juneteenth. At the moment, there was but a single helicopter parked on the cream-white tarmac. Its rotor blades slowed to a complete halt, while a bunch of nondescript people marched out of the fuselage, carrying duffel bags of all kinds. Heading to meet them was a blonde and two of her American friends, plus a bald giant of a Scotsman whom everyone recognized. They all wore the same clothes as Ethan. Though far away from him, the woman had a loud enough voice, amplified by the ambient silence.

"Well, well, well... Get a load of this bitch, prancing 'round like she owns the place.", Meghan greeted the visitors.

She was approached by a different woman, the one leading the other group. Tall, skin as white as snow, and donning a baseball cap. Her hair was dyed in an ugly shade of green for some strange reason. She came off as an angsty teen, rather than a professional.

"Only a slutty girl would say that... Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were a girl."

And she had a thick accent too. Likely Russian, or at least Slavic. The two ladies came off like they were about to start a brawl; an insult to the blonde's muscular frame deserved a thrashing. With fierce faces, they stared into each other for a few seconds… before breaking down into smiles and unbridled laughter, familiar to any brother-in-arms. They hugged each other, as tightly as close friends would. Perhaps 'sister' would be a better term, considering Meghan's unusually bright expression when she pulled from her.

"The Bosak Tempest... You sure took your sweet-ass time to get here!"

"Still obsessed with my ass, huh?", the other woman asked. "That is an unhealthy fetish you have there."

"Guys! This is Ela… Ela, welcome to the Team. We're all glad to have you aboard."

Miles and Jordan had awkward smiles. The latter was clearly unenthused, jokingly or otherwise.

"Oh great... another belle…"

"Show some respect Jordie. We've a long day ahead of us.", Seamus chided.

"I'd rather go back to Hereford, man. Heard the view's gotten better since we left."

Ethan smiled at how the soldiers bantered, reminding him of the dynamic he shared with his friends, God bless their souls. The purpose of the visitors was clear: they were the new guys due to join them this morning. Counter-terrorism experts, former elite soldiers, and ex-law enforcement agents from all over the world. Meghan said that they were 'prospects' that Six had been eyeing on for some time, even amidst the whole mess with the White Masks. It was hard to believe that the boss lady managed to do that. New blood was always a good thing in Ethan's books, so he was not complaining their presence. If anything, the Freedom Day attacks showed that Team Rainbow was in dire need of more manpower. This morning would remedy that.

Ela had quite an entourage behind her, all wearing their Casual Friday way too early in the week. There was a tall, tan-skinned guy with a scruff, a short woman with boyish dark hair, an Asian woman who was even shorter, and another guy who donned cargo shorts and a slick pair of Oakleys. Trailing behind them were two other people: a bespectacled, pig-tailed chick with white highlights and a stoic-looking man with a crewcut, both engaged in a separate conversation of their own. All of them were fit and ready for duty, despite what their appearances might otherwise suggest. Different faces, different personalities, in a meet-and-greet with the long-time vets. An opportunity to size each other up, right before the greenhorns could be roped into some sort of initiation, like Ethan experienced in his time.

'His time'. So much had happened since Seamus fetched him in Brooke Army Medical, it was hard to believe that only several weeks had gone by. And yet, the new guy already felt the trappings of his seniority. An Operator with barely two months into his belt in Rainbow, but he was an old-timer compared to the new face. If it weren't for the injuries in his body, he would gladly show them the. Meghan and Seamus continued with the preliminaries, all the while leading the Ela and the rest to another hangar for a more formal ceremony. Jordan and Miles smiled as they followed them from behind, presumably relishing the kind of hazing they were about to give the newbies.

Those men and women would be in good hands.

Ethan pulled out Gabe's dogtags from his pocket, fumbling them and looking for a sign. But he found none. He no longer needed it. It was time to move on after that fateful day, to pick up the pieces after wallowing in misfortune for a long time. Gulping down the last drop from his drink, the crippled sniper then carefully lowered himself from the crate and grabbed his crutches for the tedious hobble inside Hangar Two.

It was where the rest of Team Rainbow's stuff was being taken down and disassembled. There was quite a lot of activity inside, more than he initially hoped. Power tools and hammers sounded endlessly as the demolition of Rainbow's shooting range at Fort Bragg continued in earnest. Ethan turned his head to one side and saw Shuhrat and Marius lifting a large piece of bulletproof material onto a nearby pile, the last vestiges of their ad-hoc shooting range. Max, Sebastien, and Tina were in another corner, running a thorough inventory check of the guns stored in the weapon lockers, prepping them for the quartermaster's final review later in the day. Alex had the rather thankless job of counting the rest of the unspent ammunition before they were returned to the base's armory, but the singing from his lips implied that he was actually enjoying the work.

Director Six was also there, making a vid-call to a laptop at a far table. She refused to be disturbed by the noise, instead focusing on the male who was speaking to her.

"…And I hope the handover will be less… confrontational than the last time."

"Of course...", she nodded. "…I have told my people to be on their best behavior..."

Ethan squinted a bit for a better view. The lady seemed to be talking to an old man with eyeglasses and corporate attire. His face was in the TV recently.

"…And I hope we can put our differences behind us… Secretary Treadway.", Six finished her sentence with a dissatisfied tone.

"Hmph. So now you're acting all-meek and polite? Adorable.", he gloated.

"…"

"Anyway, I have a meeting to attend to. We'll talk again. I expect a full report before you pack your bags… Director."

The call ended with a blank dialogue box, prompting Six to close the laptop with a bitter taste in her mouth. She seemed more than happy to end the conversation, judging from her disenchanted eyes. It was hard to blame her; the man she talked to was the newly-promoted Secretary of Homeland Security. No doubt rewarded for his 'efforts' in containing the attack on New York. The vitriol was understandable. For all intents and purposes, he was Rainbow's new overseer; Six would have to answer to him if she wanted her people to maintain a sizable presence in US soil. It would be one big can of worms, as anyone experienced in American bureaucracy would quickly point out.

Suffice to say, the Team had one more good reason to leave the country. The first was the Enhanced Domestic Defense Act that proved Rainbow's 'redundancy', as proclaimed by the powers that be.

"What was that about, ma'am?", Ethan asked. The woman turned to him with a wearied look.

"This."

She handed him a copy of Bragg's usual periodicals, plastered with large headlines. The text in the newspaper nearly caused Ethan to recoil in disgust.

'CIA Report: Foreign Terrorist Cell led Attack in New York'. The front story was as eye-catching as it was totally erroneous. And sifting through the pages only proved all the bullshit written within, a disservice to those who had been there that fateful day. Apparently, 'Mohandes' was not Adam Kipper's alias, the one-time DHS consultant who went rogue to feed his greed. Mohandes was not a traitor who plied his trade on chemical weapons to the highest bidder like a cheap-ass floozy. And apparently, he was shot dead by NYPD during the skirmish in Queensboro, not tossed overboard like a pitiable victim, vaporized by the chemical bomb that his friends forced him to wear.

"Jesus… Who came up with this?", Ethan asked rhetorically.

Six pulled the newspaper from his hands without a second thought. Not out of disrespect, but rather to tell him that his feelings mirrored her own.

"It's either that, or we tell the public that the US military has been infiltrated by terrorists. There will be chaos if we let the truth out... So I'll have to condone the white lies just this once."

"Son of a bitch…"

"Let it go. The world's already picked this up as the 'official' story…"

Ethan scoffed and shook his head. This was yet another textbook case of the politicians rewriting the narrative in order to hide their own incompetence. He thought he had more than his fill with this crap in the Army, but alas, déjà vu. Things like this were the reason why Emily decided to betray her own country. Why psychopaths like the White Masks had a lot of room to grow their numbers over the years. And with Team Rainbow being forced to abandon America because of some piece of legislation, the future was slowly becoming bleaker.

"How's rehab, Mallory?", Six changed the subject.

"It's been swell so far, ma'am.", He drew attention to his crutches for emphasis. "I have another session with the therapist tomorrow."

"Good to hear. What did you tell your family?"

"Training accident. That's the best excuse for the broken leg, so..."

"Heh. I know how that is..."

The boss lady gave him a rare smile. They exchanged quick laughs, as if to relieve some of the bitterness in the air. His first meeting with the esteemed Director also played out like this; it felt like ages ago. The laughter brought about a few stares from the other Operators, but they quickly went back to their business. Soon enough, silence befell the boss and her subordinate. This was perhaps their last banter here at Bragg, just before Team Rainbow returned to England for good.

It was the perfect segue for Ethan to do what he came here for. Away from Meghan and Seamus's prying ears, this was no better place to break the news…

…

But the lady beat him to the punch.

"…So, do you still want to leave the Team?"

…

And just like that, his plan was ruined.

"H-How did you know?", he asked.

"That's not important... This is about Jacobsen, isn't?"

Ethan was speechless, swallowing the lump on his throat. He thought of his next words carefully, while the woman scrutinized every fiber of his being with her astute eyes.

There were no two ways going about it. He didn't want to sound like a pussy who quitted after getting roughed up. But there was simply something… personal that he let happen that eventually got in the way of his job. The things he said to Emily, did with her, ultimately led to one of the Team's biggest missteps. If he hadn't brought that spook into the loop, then Emma and Miles might not have been shot in Redmond. All those cops that the Team fought alongside with might not have been slaughtered. The security plan for the Global Security Summit might not have been jeopardized. In a way, Ethan had a hand in all of them; resigning was his way of owning up to those mistakes. It was what Gabe would've done, too.

Six was having none of it. She crossed her arms while she lectured.

"Sergeant Mallory, if you think you're the only here to have been screwed over by a 'friend', then you are gravely mistaken..."

The woman was as shrewd as ever. Ethan wondered if she had a sixth sense or something, adding more weight to her monosyllabic title. Did she talk to Emma? Did she send someone to sift through his stuff to find that resignation letter? Rather than answer his question, the boss lady simply paused her speech and turned to her laptop again.

"...But I also believe in accountability. Integrity. If this is how you think you can fix the blowback to your teammates, then I won't stop you..."

A few button presses on the keyboard revealed a familiar picture. That of a red-haired woman, with piercing blue eyes, fair complexion, and a serious demeanor on her face. A seal on the right-hand corner of the screen indicated that it was a profile picture, straight from the Central Intelligence Agency itself. Background text listed the boring essentials. None of them listed the fact that she led the attempted bombing in Heathrow Airport, after hijacking the plane carrying the British delegation headed for New York.

"…She meant a lot to you, didn't she?"

"I... Maybe. Once.", Ethan muttered, struggling to respond in an apt manner.

"Just so you know, she'll be taken to a black site in Iowa later today. The Brits will be handing her over to the CIA at Dulles… She'll never see the light of day again."

"She can rot for all I care."

*click*

Six shifted the monitor's view to a different dialogue box. This time, that of a bald Caucasian man, cold and unfeeling, with a bone-chilling stare Ethan could recognize from any number of psychos he had met during his service. He recognized the man's picture as that of Emily's top lackey, and presumably her most trusted lieutenant. The same guy who kidnapped him and took him to the Aklark, as well as the one who knocked Adam out with a vicious chokehold per the redhead's orders.

"Then there's the other man, too. Caleb.", the Director continued. "We handed him over to Langley last night. Treadway's orders."

"Did we find anything more about him? Emily said he was a Marine."

"I had Castellano do some digging. Took her a week, but she found some old records in Pendleton, all covered in black ink..."

A few more taps to the keyboard created a different set of screens; scanned copies of official-looking documents marked 'USMC'. Ethan took great care to skim through them all and highlight important details. Sergeant Caleb M. Hinney. Former Scout Sniper, 1st Marine Division. The guy's service record bore plenty of similarities with his. Different branch of service, sure, but the play-by-play was similar. Like himself, Caleb was a former soldier who had done his fair share of dirt, who then suddenly opted out for a different living. Exactly the kind of guy that the CIA would want for muscle, and apparently the White Masks as well.

"...Nothing in his profile suggested he had the potential to become a terrorist. Makes me wonder how many of our own countrymen we can still trust..."

*click*

"…But I suppose that's not your problem anymore…", Six continued. "…I reckon you're gonna report back to the Pentagon in a couple of days?"

"I don't know yet, honestly… We'll see."

"I know many people here who will miss you, despite your short time. You're a good man. Pichon speaks highly of you."

"I… I'm flattered, ma'am."

Ethan smiled awkwardly in response, feeling a tinge of warmth in his cheeks. The woman caught on and chuckled, this time genuinely mocking his poor form.

But there was more to it than that. The more that he thought about it, the more he realized that the pictures in the laptop were Six's way of imploring him. That his involvement with Emily ran far too deep just for him to call it quits. Caleb was a professional of the highest caliber; no doubt the White Masks had more such men in their ranks. The deceptions, the ploys, the conspiracies… Ethan had become familiar with them, whether he liked it or not. It would be wrong to walk away from them all. He still had unfinished business. The Team still needed him.

…

Even so, he felt sure about his decision.

"Here's something to help you think.", Six handed him a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"Consider it one last job, before I can let you go..."

Ethan opened the little parting gift, anxious to see what it was all about. To his surprise, it was a photo and a summarized profile of a blonde Caucasian man, in his mid to late thirties. His blue eyes were a bit droopy and cold. His face was all worn out, with a bright unkempt beard gracing his chin. His attire was as nondescript as any introvert would prefer it to be. Right off the bat, Ethan recognized the man on the picture, causing a gasp to escape his lips.

It was an old acquaintance of his.

"…He's in Benning right now. Set-up a meet with him. I heard he'd rather talk face-to-face with a fellow Delta."

…

"The Convoy", Somewhere in the United States
At the same time.

...

Captured by the enemy. One of the worst fates that a Marine could endure, on account of tortures, interrogations, and other unspeakable horrors that awaited.

Caleb never thought he'd live long enough to suffer this fate. He had been doing well so far. A seasoned operative, a razor-sharp scalpel that the Bossman had been wielding effectively. It didn't matter that he was ultimately fighting and killing those he used to work with. Yet, like all good soldiers, his luck against the enemy had to run out sometime. But defeat would have been easier to stomach had it not been a fucking Frenchwoman with a revolver who did him in. It was infuriating to say the least; he was not usually one to listen to his ego, but that bitch clearly made a dent that he would never forget. And thanks to her, he was now being herded into some shithole like a piece of meat, waiting to be slaughtered. Whoever running the transport detail likely wanted him caged in a CIA installation.

But he wasn't entirely sure, this time at least. He had no clues or hints. For this trip, the guards made sure to cover his face with a black bag so that he would never see his destination. The prison bus was just one out of five other vehicles, all cruising along some dirt road, judging from every bump the tires trod on. Each involuntary jerking caused Caleb's shoulder wound to throb, even if it was wrapped by layers of bandages and anesthetics. The orange jumpsuit mostly covered it up, hiding his mark of shame from the rest of the world. All courtesy of Team Rainbow.

The international counter-terror taskforce had gotten under his skin. They weren't adversaries anymore; he felt nothing but seething disdain for those prissy fools. Anger kept his senses in check. He swore to bid his time, wait out the pain. Should he get out from his cage, the first order of business would be-

*tires screeching*

Vengeful thoughts ground to a halt, just as the bus did.

What the hell?

Caleb turned his head around out of instinct, but the black bag over his face blocked his sight. With keen ears, he heard the driver-side door open, followed by a pair of boots stepping onto a sandy surface. There were a few people talking and calling each other out with muffled voices. Like the bus was stopped at a checkpoint or something. Then, several steps came to the rear of the vehicle. The prisoner counted at least three people, judging by the number of footsteps he heard in each interval. Next was a metallic clang, followed by the grinding of a rusty lever. Within seconds, the black bag on his face was bathed in a faint light, even though he still couldn't see through it.

Someone had opened the door to the cabin.

*Fwffft*

A pair of hands clutched the mask on Caleb's face, before yanking it off. And just like that, he had the chance to open his eyes for the first time this day. He turned turn towards the source of brightness that enveloped the cramped compartment. His handcuffs prevented him from shielding his vision. All he saw a silhouette of a well-dressed man, wearing a pair of eyeglasses, bearing the features of an aged individual. He was flanked by a couple of armed men, wearing white ballistics mask. He looked like an old-timer, a typical 'G-Man' as grunts usually referred to them as. His sight slowly adjusting, Caleb was soon able to distinguish the mystery guy's face a little bit better. It belonged to a familiar individual, someone whose aged mug was plastered all over the news recently.

Robert Jonah Treadway.

…

…

"How are you, son?", he asked.

"Bossman? How… what are you…"

What the fuck was he doing here? It had been weeks since Caleb spoke to him, and even then it was over the phone. Right here, in the flesh, the vaunted benefactor wore a stoic expression, matching the tone of his voice in the airwaves. The prisoner felt embarrassed; Treadway had finally seen him at his lowest point thus far. The sigh of disappointment proved this fact, but it didn't last for long. With unfeeling and calculating eyes, he instead motioned to one the guards.

"Open it up."

An armed officer nodded without a second thought and brought out his set of keys. As it turned out, the bus that Caleb was riding on had another compartment, caged and closed, serving as impromptu solitary confinement for dangerous prisoners. It had a lone occupant: another captive wearing the same orange jumpsuit, steel handcuffs, and black bag over the head. Being separated from the other passengers only meant that this person was a special case. Someone that the Bossman was personally interested in. As the guard proceeded to work on the restraints, the prisoner started to whimper in fear.

It was a woman. The smaller build and lighter voice were dead giveaways. When the guard took away the black mask, her face was revealed to an apathetic crowd. Except for Caleb, who was clearly surprised. She had disheveled auburn hair. Her eyes shone a clear, icy azure. Her fair skin was marred with a few cuts and bruises.

"Agent Jacobsen.", Treadway spoke.

She immediately noticed his commanding presence. She, too, was startled to see him in the flesh.

"Treadway…?", she looked at him, then darted her eyes. "Caleb? What are you-"

Emily looked out of touch and dazed, as if she had just been rudely awakened from a long stupor. She panicked slightly at the sight of her jumpsuit and handcuffs, while the prison guards surrounded her and aimed their weapons. She scanned her surroundings, frantically, for any sign or avenue for escape. Her legs were kept in place by a set of chains. The light seeping into the compartment also proved distracting, prompting her to whimper and struggle in vain. That is, until each passing second told her to calm down. There was no point in fighting. Her blue eyes went over to the cabin again, but the dawning realization finally kicked in, amplifying her terror.

"…No. No. Nononono…"

Treadway stepped forward.

"You know… being Homeland Secretary isn't so bad. I can, for instance, straight-up ask the alphabet agencies if they're running an undercover op against the 'White Masks'…"

"No. This isn't happening...!"

"… They're not. Not the NSA, CIA, FBI… I thought we had a mole in our ranks; it turns out we actually had a renegade."

He casted a mean shadow over the woman, who could do nothing but look up. Caleb thought it was strange to see the stubborn and arrogant bitch go quiet all of a sudden. Perhaps that was a common response by spooks of all stripes, meeting face-to-face with their ruthless superiors. And 'ruthless' was one word to describe Treadway, seeing that he made a personal appearance in this convoy. Why was Emily here? Was she captured as well? As far as Caleb knew, the Freedom Day attack went off without a hitch. And yet the Bossman sounded disappointed. Before the girl could utter a response, he pulled out a small device from his coat pockets.

It was an audio recorder.

*click*

...

"~Nobody else knows, alright! I didn't talk to anyone! Not to Dai Lo Chang, not to Hong Kong or Shanghai!~"

"~Oh? Then why is the CIA hearing chatter about a joint task group between Poland, the Koreans, and the Hong Kong Police? Seems like your deal with Adam was not as hush-hush as you thought.~"

...

Caleb recognized the first voice. It belonged to Danny Goh; one of their most trusted allies in the Triads, now-deceased thanks to the Hong Kong Police. The second one was a woman- Emily, herself. She lowered her head after hearing her own speech.

*click*

"I got this from the Interior Minister in Warsaw…", Treadway explained while he pocketed the device. "…The GROM agent who infiltrated Goh's inner circle said it was… 'an American-sounding woman' who killed him…"

"…"

"…Special Activities also told me that it was you who ordered them to sabotage Korean Army comms at Seoul. You remember that, don't you? Mok Myeok Tower? Despite your efforts, the commandos ended up stealing a sizable chunk of our intel cache anyway…"

"…"

"…Then you went to The Compound… Which led to Fayetteville… To Caleb's capture… The destruction of the Aklark..."

He leaned his face close to hers.

"…You proved your loyalty when you went to Redmond yourself… Damn fine work playing both sides, Emily. You really are your father's little girl."

The woman kept her head lowered, out of shame, while Treadway talked.

Caleb could hardly believe his ears. What was their leader insinuating? Did Emily… kill Mr. Chang? Was she sabotaging their operations, this whole time? It didn't make sense; she clearly showed that she was working against Rainbow. That is, until he remembered some of the things she told him. That sacrificing their safehouses in France and Italy was a ploy to bring Team Rainbow out of the open. That infiltrating Brooke Army Medical Center to kill Emmanuelle Pichon was a terrible idea, even though he came close to doing so at his first try…

You lying bitch…

Today was a day of firsts. The embarrassment, the surprise… the anger. The former Marine's addled mind was given clarity, the pain from his wound seemingly ceased to exist. From his spot, he clenched his hands into fists. His blood boiled in bubbling rage as he maintained a steady glare at the woman he readily took orders from, all those months ago. How could he have been so blind? There was a traitor in their midst, and Caleb failed to notice it. But if Emily wasn't a double agent, then her allegiance only laid on her own. Even then, her reasons were irrelevant. While the man kept calm and held back his emotions, his esteemed patron continued talking. He always had a way with words to control people's reactions.

Emily began to sob, realizing her looming fate. It would do nothing to dispel her punishment…

…

"Hahaha… HAHAHAHAHA!"

She broke into hysteria, catching everyone off-guard. Tears flowed from her face while she giggled like a loon. Caleb thought that it was another one of her ploys, but Treadway knew better.

"I'll ask this once. Why did you do it?"

It took a while for Emily to settle down. She had been caught, and her time was slowly running out. There was no point holding everything back. She looked at their leader with defeated eyes, reddened by her weeping. Everyone in the bus wanted to hear her side.

…

"…Did you really think I'll let you bastards get away with it all!? …Ruin my father's work? …He started this whole movement to change the system… Change it! …But you… you turned it into a private fucking army!"

The old man stood his ground, proverbially, as the turncoat continued her rant.

"I didn't believe what Mr. Fausse said… The guns, the money, the ambition... I had to see it for myself… It all seemed harmless, but then you told my men to murder those kids…"

"This is about Bartlett, then?"

Emily suddenly lunged from her seat in response, in a fit of rage, only to be held back down by the cuffs around her legs. The guards reared to shoot her, but Treadway suddenly placed a hand on their guns- an order to stand down. He still wanted to talk to her.

"I thought you were on board with that idea?"

"Bartlett, Witch Hunt, Abidjan, Hamburg… I should've stood up to you a long time ago!", she spat back. "…I should've killed Adam when I had the chance! You used us all for your own FUCKING GAIN!"

"My gain?"

The old man formed a mocking smile and chuckled to himself. He was not intimidated. On the contrary, he seemed genuinely amused by the woman's outburst. It was puzzling to watch his behavior; after having his fill, Treadway turned his back on Emily and motioned to the guards. Caleb looked on in silence as they unlocked the chains on his arms and legs, granting him much-needed relief. Finally free from his restraints, he rubbed his wrists to regain sensation there. His next instinct was to punch the guards. He would've, had he not realized that they were the old man's own. His people. This whole thing was not a rescue, but a formality.

"You think I planned my own promotion? …The goal your father set for us is still our primary objective. A stronger nation. No fear, no weakness... Turns out we could subjugate America with a piece of paper…"

The Enhanced Domestic Defense Act. The Edda's passage would give the military more power and autonomy to act in the best interests of the homeland. And the people they have inside will have greater freedom to operate at will, laying down the foundations for a future campaign. There was no doubts as to why Treadway wanted the bill to be passed, and he went to great lengths decrying its existence, to hide how he would actually benefit from it. 'Public perception and spectacles', as he used to say; his foot soldiers were now reaping the rewards.

The old man was spouting more poetics, much to Caleb's silent frustration. Then again, his rescuer took a considerable risk showing his face here, after spending nearly half his life playing the card of a bureaucrat. And he was damn good at the part: a grumpy, obtrusive patrician who served as a thorn to Rainbow's side, all the while coordinating dozens of operations across the globe. The Edda was his trump card, this whole time.

"…I already talked to Senator Darcy… She assured me we can push ahead with Phase Four… Only this time, we will have Congress on our side, whether they know it or not…"

The traitorous redhead was startled by the news. More tears started to form in her eyes, but she didn't whimper this time. Instead, she mumbled her defiance.

"Ethan was right… this is all insane…"

Her words fell on deaf ears, as Treadway looked at Caleb in the eye and smiled. It was an ominous expression, given the circumstances. The latter still felt the pang of shame from his capture, causing him to turn away. But the old man patted his shoulder, assuring him that all was forgiven. At least for now. That gesture elicited a small sigh of relief, as faint as any cold-hearted killer would willing show his betters. He looked around to gaze at the guards, who unanimously recognized him as their brother-in-arms. They all had grim, yet determined faces, all eager to proceed with the next chapter of their grand crusade.

'White Mask'. The name sounded more hollow and irrelevant the longer they didn't have to wear it. Theatrics was over; it was time to return to the shadows. But if the world insisted on looking for an obvious enemy, then that's what the world would get. Very soon.

"…Rainbow will stop you.", Emily spoke.

The Bossman chuckled again. There was no point to indulge her prattling any longer, so he made his way out the bus. Nonetheless, he gave her one more rebuttal, seemingly for old time's sake. And as a simple courtesy, to the scion of the one who started this all.

"Team Rainbow will return to England tomorrow. By the time they've re-organized, we will be well-entrenched and rebuilt… I just need to find out who's protecting them there."

"Caleb!", she called out. "You walk away while you still can! That old man will kill you too!"

The former Marine refused to look at her as he walked away, leaving her to a grim fate at the hands of heavily-armed guards. Privately, he was amused by her warning; Emily had no idea what she was talking about. Treadway knew better than to betray his own pride and joy, who also had the expertise to kill him a hundred times over in a heartbeat. Caleb still had a purpose in the grand scheme of things, and that was more than enough reason to remain by the geezer's side. The sentiment worked both literally and figuratively, as Treadway stopped in his tracks as well and smiled from behind. He looked at the young man with a wicked grin, right before peeling off a piece of his coat, ever so slightly. There was something small and shiny tucked within, recognizable to any soldier. Two pairs of eyes met, communicating without words.

It had to be done.

…

"Emily…", Treadway said. "…Do you know how your father died?"

Heeding his cue, Caleb pulled the object from the old man's coat. It was a gun. He turned around and pointed it at the woman, who barely had enough time to gasp in surprise…

...

*Bang! Bang!*

…Two bullets pierced her unguarded chest, causing her to jerk in her seat. Blood oozed from the gaping holes, trickling under her bare feet and forming a puddle. Her eyes went wide as she held on for dear life between wheezing breaths. Then, the bald prisoner walked up to her, casting one last menacing shadow over her crumpled form. He stared at her, remorseless and frightening. Her bravery deserved respect. Her treachery deserved to be repaid in kind. He raised the pistol a second time, aimed it between her eyes.

*Bang!*

…

…

I hope this is a good idea.

With crutches under both armpits, Ethan hobbled across the halls of the medical wing, catching glances from nurses and armed MPs. Getting here from Hangar Two was a challenge in of itself, but today would be his best chance to talk to her.

Stuck in his back pocket was the picture of one Erik Thorn. 'Maverick' to the boys at Delta and Centra Spike. A quiet and smart blondie with an Afghan-fetish, he'd be a decent addition to the Team. But if Six had to resort to a one-legged former Delta Force operative as a recruiter, then the Enhanced Domestic Defense Act was probably creating more problems that everyone thought it would be. Ethan would have to get to Fort Benning as soon as he was done with tomorrow's therapy. A tall order, given his injuries, but that was a concern for later.

His eyes scanned left and right, looking for the room that he needed to visit. It didn't take long for him to realize that his destination was only a few feet from him, with the door left slightly ajar. He could hear voices coming from within. She was awake. Rather than invade her privacy, the man opted to listen in from the outside.

"Do you think Monika will like my scars? …I mean, I'm only asking since you're a woman…"

It sounded like a cheerful guy with a German accent. His voice was slightly garbled, hinting at a vid-call or webchat. Emma must have had her PDA with her in the room.

"Merde… You're due for surgery and you're still thinking about that?"

"You didn't answer my question… *sigh* Fine, I'll just pay the graphics-people to make me more handsome in the VR. At least I'll have that."

"Wait… Elias, was it you? Did you suggest those stupid head models we have in the simulations? The clown masks? My face?"

"Hahahaha! Well… Uh… let me explain…"

"You… You son of a bitch!", Emma nearly yelled. "I swear, when I get out of this bed, I'll fly to Berlin and strangle you!"

She had just been transferred to Fort Bragg a couple of weeks ago. Despite the harsh words, it was clear that she was in high spirits this morning. A good sign, Ethan thought. Breaking the news to her right now would probably have a dampened impact, make it more acceptable to her ears. Then again, there was also a chance that it would hit her hard and exacerbate her delicate condition. Only one way to find out. He took a deep breath…

*knock knock*

"Can I come in?"

"Ethan?", she recognized his voice. "Oh good, you're here!"

He opened the door and went inside, wearing a warm smile. She returned the courtesy with a cheerful face of her own, offering him a spot beside her bed. The sudden visit caused her to panic a bit, combing her brown hair with her hands and wiping off any blemishes from her face. While Ethan pulled up a seat, Emma quickly said her goodbyes to the other guy on the PDA, before tucking the damned thing under her pillow.

"You've been coming here often lately, Monsieur Mallory.", she opened. "Can I get you something to drink? I have… water."

As a joke, she pointed to the bathroom beyond her bed.

"Nah. Just stopped by to say hello."

The scent of chemicals still permeated in the air, mitigated only by the fresh roses on the flower vase by the window. Her room was filled with greeting cards, letters, and official documents. It seemed that she preferred to spend her recovery working around the clock.

An admirable trait to have. Another thing that caught Ethan's eye was a page from a newspaper, lying on her lap. The same one that he finished reading back at the Hangar. Printed in clear font, the page narrated the story of that girl who died during the attack on Bartlett University, almost two months ago. Her picture showcased her youth, a cute brunette smiling from ear to ear while wearing the maroon sweater of her school. 'Madison Saint-Claire'. She was the one whom the Edda was supposed to take its new name from.

"Saint-Claire… that's the girl you tried to save, right?", he asked.

"Yes… Your senators didn't have to name a piece of paper after her…", the Frenchwoman replied in a soft voice. "…But at least everyone will remember her now. I want to clip this to my new cubicle."

"New cubicle? You got promoted?"

"If you can call it that... Monika told me I was nominated to Project Lead for 'Rainbow's Defense R&D Initiative'… You know, assembling new cameras, drones, and whatnot."

"Sucks to be you.", Ethan humored her.

"That's not funny. Don't you see? I'll be sidelined from here on out!"

"You got time to heal. And a desk job's ain't that bad."

"I'll be bored to death!"

She let out a frustrated sigh, then playfully pouted her lips to show her disappointment. For a moment, Ethan thought he had offended her and quickly thought of a short apology. But she turned her eyes to catch his gaze, turning the angry face into an impish grin in short order. They both laughed…

Right then and there, he started to have doubts about this visit. It seemed so cruel to tell her now that she would be returning to England without him. Notwithstanding what happened between him and Emily. The more he thought about that one night stand, the less worthy he felt to be in this woman's presence. The 'Freedom Day' attack would've succeeded if he had been more careless. Then, there's the matter of that bastard Caleb nearly managing to kill her in Texas... The list of transgressions was long, the more that Ethan used hindsight to clear his thoughts. And the worst part, Emma was not aware of any of them. His heart started to pound, mimicking the unease he felt earlier.

But he had to suck it up. She deserved to know the truth…

…

"…Is it true that you're leaving?", she cut him off.

Alas, foiled again.

"W-Who told you that?", Ethan stammered.

"Not important. Is it true or not?"

Her green eyes grew fierce and assertive, demanding a straight answer. Before the man can spout a reply, she placed her hand onto his, locking them into a tight grip. The two of them stayed that way for a few seconds. It proved incredibly hard to deny her wish.

Was it intuition? The man was at a loss for words. There was no way that her foresight was borne from coincidence too, unless someone had done due diligence and put the pieces together. She must have known the truth already. Or at least learned parts of it. Yet, there was no judgement in her words. They were sincere and heartfelt, flowing with her compassion. Ethan returned her gaze, intently. He wished he had a better answer for her. Perhaps by taking a break from the Team, he could work out the guilt that still weighed heavily on his mind. Maybe then, he'd be brave enough to face her.

Though, perhaps even that was not necessary.

"If this about that maniac who tried to kill me…", Emma continued. "…Don't blame yourself. Jacobsen fooled you too!"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling.

"No, no... It's not that... Six wants me to take care of a few things down in Georgia. Probably just a couple of weeks."

His words brought a sigh of relief, returning her sunny demeanor. He didn't tell her the whole truth either. For now, it was enough.

With a beaming smile, she leaned forward and hugged him. As tightly as close friends would. She planted a kiss on his cheek, bringing him a small trace of the solace he sorely needed. The urge to return the favor was strong, but that was best for another time.

"Don't keep us waiting, okay?", she pulled away. "Without you… there won't be any cuties I can poke at."

There was only one joke Ethan could think of.

"The Team has a lot of pretty ladies. I hope you're into them."

"Screw you.", she punched his chest, lightly and laughing.

"…I'll be back. Promise."

She was beautiful. He wanted to see her again. But first, he had unfinished business to deal with. Rainbow must be strengthened for the storms to come. Their freedom wouldn't last. And he prayed for the strength to carry him through this new dawn.

All was well in the world. At least for now.

...

- THE END -

.

Author's Final Words and Comments: Whew! Thus concludes what has got to be the longest story I've done in… perhaps ever. Writing this has been a huge learning experience for me, as well as a harsh lesson on time management, and I am very grateful for the attention it has gotten for over a year. Thank you so much to everyone who read it, and doubly so to those who faved and reviewed!

I admit, this story is not without its flaws. To be honest, I feel like tying some chapters with the release of new Operators (i.e. Jackal and Mira, all the way to Alibi and Maestro) has actually been a bad idea in hindsight, as it made my story considerably longer. And as a few of people have pointed out, there were parts that dragged on with exposition and details. I'll keep all of these in mind for my next stories, though I am satisfied with the finished product.

Again, thank you very much for everyone who went out of their way to read my piece! I have another story in the works and I hope to release it this month. Stay tuned and keep on Sieging! ;)