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Chapter Twenty - "Clean Sweep"
...
*thunderclap*
"Ahh!"
Agnes shook from Erin's lap and quickly buried her head on her chest.
"Hey, don't be scared! It's just the storm outside.", went the other woman who was with them, unfurling a stethoscope from a medical cabinet. The fear wasn't entirely unfounded, however, as the lightning struck incredibly close.
She then approached the pair, who were sitting comfortably on propped up stools. Both of them looked very much they'd gone through the wringer. Donning what looked like a bog-standard pilot suit and jacket to Erin's eyes, this "doctor" was named 'Sky' judging by the tag above her suit's left breast pocket. The jacket covering it up was also quite unusual, lined with tassels and several patches denoting some fancy organization. Two piercings were prominent on her right eyebrow. She also had weird lines on her chin – tattoos, probably indicating a unique heritage. Bizarre as her looks might seem to a born-and-bred urbanite, she was actually quite friendly. She placed a hand on the kid's shoulder, whose little ice cream session was disrupted by the distant roaring of the heavens and the tattering of rain.
"*sigh* Loud noises. They startle her.", the American corrected this 'Sky' person. "We've just been to a shootout in case you've forgotten."
The smile on the pilot's face faded a bit upon hearing those words. Rather than delve deeper, she instead continued with giving Agnes and Erin the medical check-up promised to them.
That was the very least that these soldier-types could give them, alongside solace and rest. Exhausted they might be, Erin and Agnes were nonetheless finally safe. No more dodging bullets or running for dear life with murderous bastards on their tail. The Infirmary in this military base was a true haven, even if the air had that sickening tang of antiseptics and bleach. Sterile-white floors and walls, medical cabinets stocked with everything Erin needed a few days ago, the lights even shone brightly like rays of hope from a distant sun. It also had a calming effect on Agnes, who now had slowly peeled away from the young woman's bosom and resumed eating her a cupful of strawberry ice cream.
The pilot-slash-medic checked the girl's vitals with different instruments, then brought out what looked like a medical kit on a tripod from under her desk. It dispensed a large capsule, similar to a jawbreaker, and cracked it like an egg. What oozed out of the shell was a strange, frigid substance that Sky then applied to the cuts on Erin's skin.
"Okay. I think you two are good to go."
"Thank you.", Erin smiled back, soothed by the dressing on her wound. "I hope the second trip's a lot smoother than the first one."
"Ouch, no need to diss my skills on the stick, ma'am.", Sky laughed. "You should be more concerned about that intel you've given us you know? Looks like things are about to heat up in here."
Erin faked a chuckle. She didn't want to think about the consequences of what she did in San Francisco, and what Ethan risked his life for. Someone like her, a mere data analyst for a prestigious financial institution, would probably be asked to testify before a federal or an international court once her data made it to the public eye. She might even have to enter some sort of witness protection program for the rest of her life, probably away from America. Still, her chances could've been much worse had it not been for one man's sacrifice. Briefly, the woman muttered a silent prayer in her head, wishing that reckless yet brave soldier the best, wherever he might be.
"How is it? Is it good…?", Sky asked her Agnes about the small treat, who only gave a small nod.
Such a poor thing. Her clothes, fresh from some random convenience store in Utah, were now sullied and soggy. Erin also saw little specks of red in various places; they clearly weren't Agnes' blood, but rather they were from the unfortunates they encountered during their escape in San Francisco. The horror was only a few hours old in their heads. And to think, this was what their lives had amounted to. Just a month ago, Erin was worried about what the goddamn OB-GYN said to her. About her chances of having a baby, or lack thereof. It seemed like a whole different life for when she and Justin were agonizing over something that mundane. Now, he's gone. She still missed him. She was yet to even properly mourn his death. Much as she liked to do so right now, though, she had another person to worry over.
"…Can't believe a little girl like you is involved in all this.", Sky patted Agnes's head.
You and me both.
"It's… it's a long story.", Erin went on.
"Don't worry, ma'am. I'm not one to pry.", Sky continued. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna file this to our database. Standard procedures, y'know."
With that, the medic left her patients' side for a moment and switched on the nearby laptop, typing into the keyboard. Erin felt that she could finally breathe easy now, while the little girl on her lap continued munching on a spoonful of ice cream.
"These people seem okay. Don't you think?", she spoke softly to her.
Agnes paused for a moment and turned her eyes to the side. Her reply was not as happy as she'd hoped.
"…I… I've been here before."
"What?"
"They rescued me from… those people who kidnapped me and my mom… I-I…"
Erin felt her heart get crushed on its own.
"Oh, poor baby.", she muttered under her breath and hugged her again.
In truth, she didn't rightly know the kid's entire situation, but she trusted that Ethan's words about her were enough. This luckless little girl was something of an important witness or some such. Erin didn't care; she was starting to heed instincts she didn't know she ever had. In such a short time with this child, she'd grown to cherish the warm feeling in her heart, as all of Erin's worries seemed nothing compared to what she had endured. She needed to be strong for the child, despite her own gnawing problems. She wanted to tell her that everything would be alright from now on, that she would never leave the poor little girl alone, much as she wanted to save her own skin. They would face the coming days together, whatever they might hold.
...
"…That old guy."
"Hmm?"
"Baldie. With the glasses. I saw him there. That place w-where they took me and mom...", Agnes peeled away and stared up at Erin. "...And in your computer! I saw him there too."
"Wait, I don't-"
"It's him. He's the one who kidnapped me!"
She was puzzled by the little girl's words. Bald old guy, with the glasses, and she saw him in that computer when they were extracting data from Prestige Tower's servers. Erin recalled that the man's presence in the Banks database certainly raised alarm bells, but so did the myriad of names from other government officials and properties she uncovered. The federal government worming its way into a private institution was hardly a unique instance, as other banks had secretly worked with the White House in the past.
*thunderclap*
It was incredibly loud this time around, followed by a quick flash of light and an almost ground-shaking thud. The lightning strike was probably just less than a quarter of a mile away from where they were sitting. Agnes screamed again and whimpered.
"Shhh. It's just the storm, Agnes. Just the storm.", Erin stroked the back of her head.
The next moment, the lights in the Infirmary died, causing her even more distress. It would appear that the lightning struck much closer to home, probably at a power line. Sky, sitting just nearby, was also startled, but not by the loud booming. Apparently, the wireless connection on her laptop had offed itself as well.
"Argh, dammit!", she cursed, thumping her desk in frustration.
She looked around and then up, as though she was waiting for something reassuring. A few seconds passed.
"Huh. I thought this place had backups?", she stood up from her seat.
A good question, Erin thought. A distressed Agnes hugged her for comfort; the darkness had done little to calm her nerves. As if the storm outside wasn't enough to scare, now the entire building had become eerily quiet and spooky. Only the moonlight shining through the foggy windows brought some sort of solace, however small. Sky, on the other hand, was starting to get even more frustrated. She took out a walkie-talkie from her belt.
"Dubois, this is Thunderbird. Main power's out in Building E. Can you give me a twenty on the auxiliary generators, over?"
Erin listened on while she held the child close to her bosom. A guest she might be in this base, she was also eager for answers. But to her eavesdropping ears, there was nothing coming out of Sky's radio.
"Dubois, this is Thunderbird, requesting an update on the auxiliary power. Come in, over."
Still nothing. With a heavy sigh, Sky moved to the windows, and looked outside – perhaps to look for answers. There was naught but a dark landscape and the foggy air. The rain was getting stronger. The outage seemed to had covered the entire Base.
"Looks like he's running errands again. All the other buildings are out too."
"Uh... what now?", Erin asked, sounding like a clueless vagrant.
"I'm gonna check the utility room and see what's up on our end. Stay here, please? I'll be right back."
Sky then strode out of the Infirmary and closed the door behind her. With that, Erin and Agnes were all alone, nothing but lifeless medical instruments to keep them company. The former felt her heart starting to pound. Could be caused by a primordial fear of the dark like most people had, could be because of the medicine she was given by the other woman who had just left. The little girl also felt the same, subtly whimpering as she clung onto the hem of Erin's clothes. Once again, she feigned bravery as the older one among the two. She started to hum a random jingle, softly, to keep calm. Alas, it only accentuated her fear. A few moments later, she heard footsteps come to the Infirmary door, causing her heartbeat to quicken.
Two knocks came. The door opened rather slowly, revealing a security guard in a black and grey uniform with a pistol holstered on the hip, plus a rifle on his back. He also had another guy behind him with the same sort of rifle dangling to the side. Their shoulder patches looked different from Sky's: a bucking horse on top of a globe. 'Puissance'.
"Ma'am, we need to move."
"Huh? Why?", Erin asked. Without thinking, she covered Agnes with her arms.
"There's an emergency.", said the guard. "We need to escort all non-military personnel out of the premises."
"W-Wait. The lady said we need to stay put."
"Please ma'am. We have our orders."
The two men then crossed the threshold and approached the guests. Erin felt something take over her body, because it stopped listening to logic. These security guards were persons of authority - it was only right for her to comply to their orders. Yet still, the woman scooted away from them, dragging the chair she was sitting on across the white tiles. Her heart pounded faster, matching the sudden rush of air in her panicking lungs. It didn't deter the men from walking towards her.
There was something wrong.
"Excuse me, boys? Can I help you?", asked a female voice from the hall.
It was that Sky-person again, hands on her waist, and she was just beyond the door frame, putting her well in-view to her two patients. The guards turned around, as though they were startled by her sudden presence. Erin could see that her little trip to the utility room had failed as the building's lights didn't return.
"I told them to stay inside the Infirmary. I was just gonna-"
"Ugh. Fuck this.", one of the guards suddenly spoke.
The next moment, he had drawn a pistol from his chest, then aimed it directly to the woman down the hall. The gun had a large, long cylinder at the end. The woman's eyes widened as it flashed bright with a soft bang. She fell down with a pained gasp. The second guard didn't waste any time and pulled out his own pistol. Coldly, he aimed it on Erin's forehead, much to her horror.
Agnes screamed.
"Wait! WAIT! WAIT!", Erin held out her hand in vain.
*BANG! BANG!*
...
...
Eyelids were closed. Something splattered across her face. Her eyes started to fill with tears; she didn't dare open them to see what happened. She could've sworn something mushy had hit her. Yet, she was still alive. Between whimpered breaths and a stifled scream, she dared herself to slowly open her eyes again. There was blood on her cheeks and on her shirt. So was on Agnes's clothes. However, there were two bodies on the floor - the two security guards, lying on pools of red ichor that were slowly growing larger. There were gruesome holes at the back of their heads, also oozing with the same color. The mush on her face was fleshy and soft, which she immediately wiped away in disgust.
"Oh God…! Oh my God!"
"Are you okay?!", spoke another female voice.
Erin looked up. A freckled brunette in black fatigues was standing by the door, bearing a French flag patch on her left sleeve, and brandishing a revolver with both hands. The barrel was smoking. She had a fierce look in her eyes, though her mouth was also agape in shock.
"Y-Yeah, I'm f-f-fine…", Erin struggled with the words, hyper-ventilating.
Her body was shaking. Agnes didn't fare any better either, reduced to a sobbing mess at the sudden violence in front of her. Instincts kicked in again, and Erin wrapped the poor kid in a tight embrace, heedless of her own terror. Both of them couldn't believe what had just happened.
The brunette who rescued them lowered her weapon, relieved. She was the French lady who accompanied them earlier, after their plane landed on the tarmac. 'Emma' the others called her. She looked relieved that she arrived in the nick of time, and knelt down to retrieve one of the rifles from the dead guards. She cocked on the weapon's lever, looked through the sights, inspected every meager thing on the weapon that Erin's civilian brain didn't understand. With that done, Emma's attention was suddenly turned to the hall behind her.
Sky had been shot. Without missing any beat, she went to the woman's side and knelt. When Erin leaned over to see what was happening, she was stunned to see that there was yet another woman kneeling beside the fallen pilot. She had snow-white hair, trimmed in a bob cut, matching the paleness of her skin. She was also wearing the same clothes as the brunette, though hers had what looked like a different red-white-blue flag on the sleeve. Probably Dutch. In contrast to her armed colleague, this second woman also had a strange gizmo strapped to her back: it looked like a giant CPU with large vents sticking upwards on either side. Both women looked rather haggard, as though they ran miles just to get here in time.
They tended to Sky first, who was still on the ground. She was alive.
"Mina!", went the white-haired girl. "Where'd you get hit? How bad is it?!"
"I-It's nothing... bastard shot my vest… *cough* Argh, fuck!", she groaned.
She helped the pilot on her feet, who was clutching her torso where a gaping hole was found on her suit. However, there was nothing red pouring out. It turned out her fancy getup had more surprises than Erin thought.
"You have your sidearm, Mina?", asked Emma.
"Wha… N-no, I left it in the armory. Didn't think I needed it here..."
"Merde… Take this then.", she handed her the scary pistol that Erin was fixated on earlier. "I hope you've been spending time at the range."
"Shit! I'm more of a rescue pilot than a shooter!"
"Time to pull double-duty then. Take your Kona Station too; I think we'll need it."
Sky shook her head but did as she was told, presumably appalled at how the peace instantly took a turn for the worst. She took the fancy first aid box, retracted its legs, then unfurled a sling so that she could carry it like a satchel. They seemed oddly calm despite the current situation.
*thunderclap*
Agnes wasn't startled this time, as she was thrust to a far more terrifying reality. Erin held her close, wondering what to do next. Her rescuers seemed to have an idea.
"Doctor Meijer?", the brunette asked the albino lady. "Sure you can make that thing on your back work?"
"*sigh* Yes, but with limited operability. Senaviev stashed my stuff with the rest of the Lab equipment, remember?", she then pointed a thumb behind her. "This is an old prototype of my Gemini Replicator."
These were all gibberish to a civilian's ears. A moment later, they heard another rumbling in the distance. But this one wasn't a roaring from the heavens; it was an explosion from somewhere close, piercing through the hard rain. Then came another. Then another. They were soon followed up with more incessant clatters. Erin had been into far too many perils to realize they were gunshots, echoing from afar. Soon, the loud bangs became more steady. The sources doubled, then tripled, turning into a fusillade not unlike what she escaped from America many hours ago. The horror slowly set in as the women-soldiers laid down a plan of action among themselves.
"Those blasts came from the tarmac!", Sky exclaimed to the group. "Is someone hitting our aircraft?!"
"They're cutting off our escape routes…"
"The guards? …All of them?!"
"Fuckfuckfuck… No, not twice in the same fucking day!", Erin vented, loud enough to gain the Frenchwoman's attention. With Agnes in her arms, she stood up from her seat, and started to pace around the room.
"Ms. Cosgrove. We need to-"
"This isn't happening… This isn't happening… This isn't happening…!"
Those were the only words she could mutter. She couldn't believe her luck. She was scared out of her wits, realizing that she was caught in yet another fight for her life. This time, she was also angry - as though she was aware of her role as a victim of some terrible cosmic joke. The solace she was promised turned out to be a farce, though not the fault of her vaunted protectors. Addled and tired she might be, she wanted to find the one responsible for putting her in this situation, then tear them apart with her bare hands.
"Ms. Cosgrove, you need to come with us. We're gonna regroup with the rest of the Team, get you to safety."
"Safety?! You said we were safe here! What the HELL'S GOING ON?!"
"Obviously we're in danger, okay?!", the Frenchwoman almost shouted back. "We have to regroup with Ash and the others!"
She then went ahead of the pack, rifle at the ready, while the white-haired girl followed her close behind. Erin and Agnes were on the rear, with Sky covering them with her body as best she could, pistol on her hand. They made their way through the building's darkened corridors and stairwells, swiftly, silently, and wary of any danger. They didn't encounter any more of the treacherous security guards, though the distant shooting didn't bode well for the party either. Sure enough, as they neared the building's exit, they saw brief flickers of light, flashing intermittently from the darkness ahead. Even amidst the rain, the fog, and starless sky of the night, Erin could recognize those faint lights as muzzle flashes.
Fear started to creep into her heart again. However, her little group pressed on, running outside of the building and making a determined dash across the wet asphalt to reach another place of safety. The battle up ahead grew louder and louder, indicating it was drawing nearer to them. The Frenchwoman was dauntless, however, and she led the group to a large red-bricked building up ahead, which was flanked by a couple of mean-looking armored vehicles. Not long before they reached the place, a man with a large helmet and camouflaged body armor appeared from a second-floor window. Everyone in the group, save for Erin and Agnes, seemed to have recognized him.
"TACHANKA! IS THAT YOU?", Sky raised her voice amidst the rain.
"DA! GET INSIDE!", he returned the courtesy.
Right then, a hail of bullets started zipping past them, causing Erin and Agnes to squeal in terror. Their protectors were undeterred, returning fire with their weapons while they ran for cover, past the parked vehicles. More loud noises, more gunshots, mixed with the tattering of rain and thunderclaps. They bombarded Erin's ears, so much that she couldn't even hear herself scream in terror while her legs led her to safety.
…
…
"No! Wait! WAIT!"
*BANG! BANG!*
Cries for mercy fell on deaf ears as another body fell on the control room's metal floor.
The tower overlooking the runway provided an excellent vantage point. Gunfire rang all over the surrounding area - different shots from different guns rang left and right, some obviously more dominant than others. Thanks to that, Caleb could tell that his side was winning. Even then, the first steps to victory were already taken in Russia. He had just shot Aurelia Arnot several hours ago. Tonight, he had caught her people, Team Rainbow, completely unaware and they were losing badly. He wanted to relish every moment of this. Stepping over the bodies of the control room staff, he reloaded his pistol and holstered it again. It was just about time for him to provide overwatch by propping his M40 over the railing outside. The rain and thunder didn't deter the hawk-eyed hunter as he scouted out a proper sniping position for himself. Finding one, he unfurled his rifle's bipod and laid prone.
*BOOM!*
Another helicopter was destroyed in the nearby runway – obliterated by demolition charges or a well-aimed RPG, all according to the battle plan. Hereford Base housed most of Team Rainbow's air assets, and it was imperative they be dealt so that Treadway could initiate Zero Protocol in Europe without interference. "The best warriors on the planet" – Rainbow's epithet was but a mockery tonight, as they had already lost at least ten of their own people.
And the rest were right where Caleb wanted them to be. From his spot on the tower, the masked sniper could see chaos unfold in the tarmac up ahead, about three hundred or so yards away. What looked like a handful of guys in black fatigues were popping in and out of stacks of metal boxes and military crates, exchanging fire with his men and the guards from Puissance Group as they slowly advanced. The Rainbow agents were putting up quite a fight, which Caleb realized he needed to correct as quickly as he could. Briefly, he peeled away from his weapon and took out a strange-looking pair of binoculars from his backpack. They resembled a laser designator, similar to the SOFLAM he used as a Recon Marine in Iraq. This one, however, was issued by the CIA – one of the perks of having them as an ally tonight. Caleb peered into the viewfinder and pressed a button on the side of the device. The digital imprint on display for his eyes was soon riddled with a variety of red squares, each hovering over anyone not wearing his men's infrared strobes.
"Mother Goose: I have thirteen, one-three, red tags.", he spoke over the airwaves. "Need a clean sweep on my signal for PID on Priority Targets, over."
"Confirmed.", replied an American woman. "Cross-checking your feed with all military databases. Stand by…"
Eyes still glued to the viewfinder, Caleb saw most of the squares slowly shrink, downplaying their importance in the screen. However, some remained the same size, which nudged the user to keep tabs on them. Briefly, he felt a tinge of excitement. He pressed another button on the special binoculars so that the feed was synchronized with the digital scope on his sniper rifle.
"…Four matches. Marking them now."
The spooks of Langley had done their magic; now it was Caleb's turn. He scoped in and quickly aimed to where the red squares told him to. He heard the fancy optic let out a faint beep when the crosshairs aligned with one of squares. Small words appeared beside the crosshair notches, followed by a person's portrait.
"Confirm visual: Neil Tunney. SAS.", the radio spoke again.
This one was hiding behind a trolley with a large metal crate on top of it. A well-trained operator, seeing how he masked his profile while he took pot shots on the assailants bearing down on him using what looked like an M4 rifle. Little did he know that someone was watching him from his four o'clock. Crosshairs hovered over his exposed head. Distance was about a hundred-fifty yards. Caleb quietly exhaled as his finger gently pressed on the trigger…
*pht*
…The sniper quickly worked the bolt on his rifle while his eyes observed the target. One moment, he was still crouched behind cover. A heartbeat later, his head was smeared in red, leaving behind a large spray on the crate beside it. The man's body crumpled, mostly went unnoticed due to the din of battle and the heavy downpour of the night.
"Done."
"Confirmed. New target. Visual on Detlef Munz. GSG 9."
Caleb shifted his rifle to the right. Another man in black fatigues was square in his sights, hiding behind the huge doors of a hangar. He too was taking potshots at Caleb's men, but this one had the good sense to remain mobile. From the hangar doors, he darted towards another stack of crates while his fellows laid down suppressing fire. They seemed to have a plan. Not for long. Crosshairs were already pointed at where he was most likely to pop out of, should he decide to make a move again. Distance was three hundred yards…
*pht*
The target was about to bolt it when the bullet hit his torso. His body briefly spun like a top before it fell face down onto the tarmac. A pool of red formed underneath him, indicating another good shot for the sniper.
"Kill confirmed.", he reported again.
He twisted the bolt a second time as well. Two shots, two new notches to his name. Yet, he wasn't exactly satisfied. The people he wanted to put down the most were nowhere to be seen nor were they registered by the scanner. Miles Campbell, Emmanuelle Pichon… The second one was an especially significant quarry for him, as that bitch nearly put him six feet under with a .357 all those months ago. He could still remember the agonizing, burning sensation of when he came close to dying...
"Third visual: Julien Nizan. GIGN."
Well, at least he could make do with one of her colleagues instead. He was not too hard to find: he was several feet from that GSG 9 guy he'd just shot and was already firmly behind a row of boxes and crates, refusing to expose his head. He was smart enough to finally realize that a sniper was picking them off amidst the downpour. For a few seconds, the third target remained in cover, until he suddenly peeked over it with a scoped rifle of his own. He was aiming at a different tower, just twenty degrees off to where he should be looking. Caleb almost felt sorry for the poor guy, not knowing he was exposing his chest, just enough for a center mass shot. Distance was the same as the last one…
*pht*
"Hit…"
Another one bit the dust. However, there was no blood. Instead, this one quickly stood up and bolted away while keeping a low profile, leaving Caleb quite astonished.
"…Wait, no joy. He's still up."
It quickly dawned on him that the target was probably wearing heavy armor. Wasting no time, Caleb chambered another shot and scoped in, intending to correct his deficit of kills. He thought he'd calculated where and when to fire off another bullet, but it was not enough – the third target had already retreated far into the hangar. A lucky bastard and a fast runner, that one.
"Fuck! Target's out of my sightline."
"Shift targets, Odysseus…", went the woman on his earpiece again. "…Fourth visual: Nienke Meijer. ERU."
He aimed his rifle to where the screen told him to. He was a bit surprised to see the mug of the next person he was about to shoot. White-haired, unnaturally pale-skinned. Didn't make her no less different from the rest of his quarry. Caleb found her hiding behind a pushback tug, just outside of the hangar he'd been shooting at for a while now. Crouching one moment, she then sprang up from cover and made a mad dash towards another door, more than a dozen feet ahead. She looked scared. She was unarmed, unlike the other targets.
It wouldn't save her. Caleb swung his sound-suppressed rifle again to the proper angle and exhaled, finger hovering above the trigger.
*pht*
"Hit."
A center mass shot.
...
But there was something wrong. Rather than jerk from the impact, the girl's body remained still. Then, it suddenly disappeared in a faint flash of light. The sniper was bewildered.
...
...
"Gemini's down!", Iana announced to the party.
She was crouched behind the thick, red-brick wall, seeking protection from the unknown killer somewhere outside. Mina Sky was with the other VIPs, several rooms deep within the Kill House's first floor. Emmanuelle Pichon, meanwhile, was tucked behind a table near a windowsill – armed with an HK 417 she had relinquished from a dead Puissance Guard just a few minutes ago. It didn't sport any fancy optics, but the sights were thankfully zeroed for long range shooting - good enough for the job ahead. And she was eager to get on with it, seething in anger. She didn't know how many of her colleagues had just been killed tonight.
"Did you see him?!", she shouted to Julien.
He was peeking behind cover near her firing position, still clutching his chest. She desperately wanted to check on him, but she's using her adrenaline elsewhere.
"Just a small muzzle flash!", he shouted back amidst the din of battle. "Control tower on the far side, top floor, on the railing!"
She hefted the rifle across her chest in response and mounted it on the doorframe's edge. Masking her profile as best she could, she aimed at the shooter's purported location, eager for payback. This whole bait-and-switch was Julien's and Emma's idea, as the rain was making visibility a tad too difficult for a visual confirmation. While gunfire raged around, she aimed down the rifle's iron sights, pointing them to the spot that her friend had called. Control tower on the far side of the tarmac, the railings on the top floor. Specifically, it was the second tower in the distance, not the one adjacent to the Kill House itself, which was just a few dozen meters away.
True enough, there seemed to be a dark silhouette on the distant railings, lying prone. No scope glint for added confirmation, but the visuals were more than enough evidence to point to their culprit. She gritted her teeth. For once, her trigger-finger was itching.
I got you, bastard.
*Bang! Bang!*
...
...
The air snapped in front of Caleb's face. Instincts immediately told him to duck his head.
"Fuck!"
Sure enough, two bullets hit the metal rails in front of him, then zipped inches away from his body. They were precision shots, tightly grouped. They would've struck his cranium if they were aimed a little better.
"Odysseus, status!", his handler showed a fleeting moment of concern. She probably heard the bullet impacts and his startled reaction.
"I'm fine! My pos is compromised, Mother Goose. I'm falling back."
He picked up his rifle and folded the bipod while he stood up. In a heartbeat, more shots came to his way with telltale snaps and hisses, indicating that the shooter was missing him only by inches. Caleb would've been impressed by their efforts to zero in on him, but it instead reinvigorated his desire to return the favor with interest. One shot missed his legs as he opened the door to the control tower, while another one almost clipped his right shoulder when he dove inside, away from the shooting. His body touched the floor with a crunchy thud, scraping his clothes across the broken glass on the floor that were shattered from the control tower's windows. He made it through the gauntlet of fire relatively unscathed.
Right then, he realized that he had left his fancy gizmo outside. He needed to retrieve it somehow.
"Target Four was a decoy!", his handler radioed. "Shift fire on the Kill House. Multiple contacts still active; probable Priority Targets among them, over."
"Copy that.", he grunted. "Is the site rigged? You had the whole week to booby-trap that place before we- "
"Negative, Odysseus. Puissance Group was never cleared to enter any of the training facilities. Only SAS and Rainbow personnel."
"Argh, you've left the Kill House a hardpoint! Our exfil window's gonna close before we can clear it!"
A quick glance at the battle raging over there showed him that the target building still had its lights on. It must have had a separate generator room. One more thing to complicate any assault attempt.
"More reason for you to double-time it, Marine. Don't tell me you're not cut out for this…"
Bitch.
The woman's words were dripping with condescension. Like Emily's: imperious and smug, relishing the power she had over him. But now wasn't the time for Caleb to relive past victims. He was being shot at by Rainbow from somewhere up ahead, probably the red-brick building there. The Kill House. Took them long enough to put up a proper defense, he thought. He reloaded his rifle and stood up, ready to head down the door leading downstairs, but right before he retrieved his equipment outside. He should've known things were going too easy.
'Rainbow will stop you'. Those were among Emily's last words to Treadway before Caleb plugged her between the eyes. If only that traitor could see Team Rainbow now, helpless and dying.
"…I've redirected all assault teams to that location. Haul ass now!"
"Roger wilco."
…
Nine hours before Zero Protocol
"The Kill House"
…
Emmanuelle Pichon ran across the hallway as fast as she could, repositioning herself after the windowsill attracted too much fire. The bullets came from the tarmac, though some were let loose in close quarters as well, echoing through the Kill House's moss-green walls and ceiling. The shooters were probably just twenty or so yards away from where she was crouching behind earlier. Now, they were free to advance across the runways uncontested, and more of them seemed to be already inside the building. There was no battle plan for her to follow, save for survival. Thankfully, courage didn't leave her heart yet.
*BOOM!*
A breaching charge went off in the basement, probably near the storage area. It briefly stopped Emma on her tracks - she was supposed to regroup with Eliza and the others, still holding out on the upper floors with the VIPs. On the other hand, she didn't want to leave her flanks exposed to the enemy either, let alone leave behind one of her colleagues who was defending the building's lowest level. It only took one second for her to decide the best course. Before she knew it, she was headed down the murky stairwell, into a supposedly hostile area.
"Search pattern Echo Charlie, go.", a male voice called out from afar.
"Check your corners.", said another one.
They didn't sound anyone she recognized, so there should be no questions as to the rules of engagement, assuming they even applied in this situation. Emma stopped just a few steps away from the stairs and leaned back, hugging the nearest wall. She could see several shadows on the dim corridor ahead of her - men carrying assault rifles, judging from their shape. She gritted her teeth, realizing that the person she was looking for wasn't among them.
Thorn… where the hell are you?!
"Movement, basement!", she then overheard one of the armed men.
"Blast it!"
*BOOM!*
It was a second breaching charge, followed by the shuffling of heavy boots, and another round of gunfire. However, they weren't aimed at anywhere Emma was hiding. Rather, the shooters were after a different target on the other side of the hall.
"Push, push, push! Take 'em out!"
A different set of footsteps followed. This one seemed to be running, drawing closer to Emma's location with great urgency. By the time she could level her gun to protect herself, the source of the noise had darted past and hurriedly hugged the wall adjacent to hers. It was a tall red-haired woman, wearing green body armor over her black fatigues, and brandishing what looked like an UZI sub machinegun. Brianna Skehan. Emma smiled to see such a friendly face in this horrible night, though she did ponder why was there a long plastic pull string between her teeth. She spat it out, then grinned with her eyes glancing to the side.
She had left behind a present for her pursuers.
"Shit! Take cover!", one of them yelled in terror.
Of course. Emma had forgotten that Brianna brought her fancy explosive mines with her to Hereford, courtesy of Dr. Elena Maria Alvarez.
*BOOM!*
Another explosion, one that was lighter and more contained. Smoke bellowed from the corridor, then razor-sharp shards flew out one heartbeat later, some of which sliced through the air and came within inches to where Brianna and Emma were hiding. There were screams of pain where the blast occurred, which the Irishwoman approved of, judging by her expression. She cocked the charging handle of her weapon.
"My turn.", she muttered as she rushed back into the fray.
Gunfire erupted, this time from Brianna's custom SMG. When the screams and bullets died down, Emma peeked around the corner, a bit warily. Her comrade was standing triumphant atop a mess of corpses, clad in blue and grey, strewn across the hall; her hands still gripped around the weapon as a precaution. She only acknowledged the Emma's presence when she was certain that the coast was clear.
"Took ya long enough to see if I'm still breathin', love."
"We can chat later, Thorn. Let's go; this floor's not safe."
"First thing's first - follow me."
Brianna led her to another nearby area while gunfire rattled elsewhere. It was the generator room, providing power to the Kill House when everywhere else at the Base was in the dark, and presumably something that the bastards didn't anticipate. As such, it was of prime importance that this room remained secure. Brianna had just the thing for that: two more Razorbloom devices that she thrown at each of the room's entrances. It should slow down enough anyone attempting the storm the place. The tall woman also placed wooden barricades as additional barriers, working while her colleague with the rifle covered her flanks. Once the room was as fortified as they could make it, they exchanged nods and took the nearest flight of stairs upwards.
They both hurried back to the steps whence Emma had come from. Automatic fire continued to rattle both within and without, as though the Kill House had become the epicenter of a much larger fight throughout Hereford Base. As they navigated the next set of stairs to reach the second floor, the two Operators caught sight of yet another pair of their comrades: Thandiwe "Melusi" Ndlovu and Saif "Oryx" Al Hadid, both wielding their own automatic weapons. The dark-skinned woman, wearing a backpack, was also leading the way, whereas the hulking man was carrying two long metal beams under his left arm. These were portable pneumatic barricades that Team Rainbow used in its training simulations. It was time to use them for their real purpose.
"Melusi?", Emma called to her. "What are you doing here?"
"Ash wants us to lock down all the corridors here and below.", she answered. "You better get to her now."
Emma and Brianna didn't second guess her words, and carried on their journey by running through a blue-marked corridor. The former stole one last glance at the other two Operators behind them: Oryx was now unfurling the barricades onto the walls to create artificial barriers, their pistons driving through drywall and concrete with distinctive crunches. Melusi, meanwhile, took a knee to bring out her one of anti-personnel devices from her backpack. "Banshees" as she called them, capable of disorienting intruders at range and give her enough time to dispatch them. To think that Rainbow's fancy gimmicks were derided as mere 'toys'; tonight, they were their best lifeline from mortal peril.
"Over here! Get inside!", Eliza Cohen peered out from a door and shouted at the two women.
The room that they stumbled across was designated the "Kid's Bedroom" – the Kill House was made to mimic an actual siege scenario of a multi-level civilian dwelling, after all. The trappings of such a room were very apparent: beds with no mattresses, toys scattered about on the floor, soot and grime on everything in between. Thick red bricks formed its walls, providing some cover against the incoming fire. Those that didn't were already reinforced with metal barricades to ward against explosives and firearms. Inside the room, Collinn "Warden" McKinley was taking potshots with his P-10C from a small murder hole on a plaster surface. His charm and wit were of no use tonight. Iana, Alex, and Mina were also inside of the room, tending to the two civilian VIP: Agnes Kipper and Erin Cosgrove, as well as the vaunted man in the pinstripe: Under-Secretary-General Barston. The room was thankfully wide enough to accommodate half a dozen people, so it made sense for Eliza to turn it into a miniature bunker. For a moment, Emma felt safe despite the battles raging elsewhere, so she took advantage of the peace to catch her breath.
"Is this all of us? Is this everyone who made it?", Eliza asked to nobody in particular while she reloaded her R-4C.
She was still in her black fatigues, and the lack of webbing on her person suggested she didn't have time to scrounge for ammunition either. In contrast, Alexander Senaviev was tooled up for the occasion, presumably he had his gear on hand exactly when the Base's power was cut and the shooting started.
"I've heard nothing from Kozlov.", Alex reported while he slapped down a fresh pan magazine onto his beloved machinegun. "Gordon and Dubois are not answering as well."
"Dammit… How are we doing, Iana?"
"I-I can't raise them, Ash!", she warily answered. She was kneeling down, working on a crude ham radio that she cobbled together from the Bedroom's "props". By then, Collinn had crouched beside her to reload his pistol.
"Keep trying! I need to know where the rest of us are!"
"All our comms are down! Short-range radios too! The enemy is using a signal jammer somewhere!"
"FUCK!", Eliza took her frustrations on a wall, leaving behind a fist-sized crack.
It wasn't a good look. Rainbow had taken casualties, and whoever's left were holed up in one place that could only delay the inevitable. Outnumbered and outgunned. Ammo was running low as well, since the rest of their gear had been stashed in other armories. It was even a miracle that the Kill House had stacks of portable barricades on hand. That said, the one thing they really didn't have was time. Emma assumed that the bastards they're fighting against had reinforcements. It was the only explanation she could think of as to why they covered so much ground in Hereford so damn fast.
"What's the plan, Ash?"
"We stronghold this position, draw them in. Thorn: I need you to head topside, help Lesion and Rook secure the attic and the ammo storage…"
"Ya got it.", she nodded, then made a hasty exit with her weapon at hand.
"…In the meantime, the rest of us will hold this position. Take down as many as we can while we wait for the cavalry… Innsworth Base should've realized something's wrong by now."
Innsworth was just thirty or so miles southeast of Hereford Base; probably the nearest British military installation that had the manpower to send a relief force their way. They could already en route as well, probably half an hour away, assuming everyone else could stay alive for that long. Just then, Oryx and Melusi entered the room, apparently done with their previous task.
"Sure about that?", Emma made a counterpoint. "What if they decided to burn us out? Bring this place down on top of us?"
"They won't. We will not give them the chance.", Alex boasted.
Eliza was still unimpressed, however. Her eyes filled with rage and darted towards Under-Secretary-General Barston, an imperious man now sitting on his ass, scared out of his wits.
"What I'm not sure about is why the fuck the guards turned on us!"
"You're looking at me?!", Barston shouted back, his voice almost breaking due to fear.
"Woah! 'Liza!", Collinn tried to intervene with a hand on her shoulder. "This ain't the fuckin' time! Let's not get-"
This only prompted the woman to forcefully brush his hand away and walked towards the Brit with swift steps. She then grabbed him by the collar and shove him against the wall, startling everyone else in the room.
"You approved Puissance Group to handle security for us, Barston!"
"Aurelia did! Said she knew the people there and they were clean! Homeland Security also cleared them for us!"
"Bullshit! You didn't know they're working for someone else!?", Eliza snarled at him.
Those were legitimate questions, but now wasn't the time to point fingers. Before the redhead could choke the life out of the poor guy, Collinn and Emma rushed by her side and yanked her off of him.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!", the latter went between them. "We have to move the VIPs someplace more secure, Ash! This room won't keep us safe forever!"
But Eliza's eyes remained fierce. They weren't just filled with anger; tears were also forming in the corners, shed for those they'd lost tonight. Calming herself for a second, Eliza stopped accosting the poor guy and walked back to her comrades.
"Tachanka! Can you rev up the armored car outside?"
Alex was momentarily surprised to be put on the spot.
"Da. As long as you keep me covered.", he boasted.
It was easy to surmise that he was chosen because of his armor. Hopefully, the vehicles weren't yet sabotaged or shot to pieces. How he'd bring them back to life was another matter altogether, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd done a miracle.
"Good. We need to get the VIPs civvies to the panic room at Building C. I'll need volunteers."
"I will go.", Emma was the first to step up, nodding with conviction.
She exchanged glances with Sky, who also nodded in response. Picking up her Kona Station, she motioned towards the two other VIPs, Agnes and Erin, to ready themselves for another brief trek. Oryx followed suit and went to them, volunteering himself as well without saying a word. He was always a quiet one, but his actions were more than enough in place of speech. The small group then went outside of the room, and into another corridor, with Alex leading the way. Before Emma could follow them, Eliza took her aside one last time.
"Don't take any risks, Twitch. If you take too much fire during the crossing, rally back here."
"Understood."
"We'll draw their fire while you sneak out. It's gonna be a rough drive for you guys, but I think-"
Eliza was cut short when she heard a little girl scream. It was Agnes, by the hallway, cowering in fright. All of them had ducked down, save for one of them who was lying face first on the ground instead. A beast of a man, with blood pooling beneath him.
"ORYX!"
"Sniper! SNIPER, South-side!"
A second later, the entire room started to get peppered with bullets. Ricochets and splinters flew everywhere. Those that surrounded the building had finally brought out their big guns.
"Take cover! TAKE COVER! Stay away from the walls!"
Eliza's words were drowned out once again by the noise. Perhaps it was for that very reason that Under-Secretary-General Barston seemed to have not heard her cries. Emma glanced at him, only for half a second, then saw three puffs of red spurt out of his chest. The man in the suit didn't have time to gasp as the barricaded wall behind him was suddenly riddled with holes, puncturing the metal skin with loud cracks and piercing through his unarmored flesh. He was dead before he hit the floor. The shooting continued.
...
...
An empty bullet case fell beside him as he laid prone, joining almost a dozen other empty shells and at least two spent magazines.
"Hit.", Caleb radioed while worked the bolt on his rifle.
"Confirmed. Saif Al Hadid is down...", his handler acknowledged the message. "...I bet the Jordanians would pay us a lot of money for his body."
The poor fool had only exposed himself for one second, and the shot that pierced his back came through a small opening in a plaster wall. Fair's fair, because a Rainbow agent was using it to take potshots at Caleb's men.
In the meantime, the remaining Puissance guards were making the most desperate gambit yet. Machineguns loaded with armor-piercing rounds were brought out of the armored cars started peppering the Kill House with indiscriminate fire. They provided cover to some of the men who were making a mad dash towards the entrances. They weren't there to make a second head-on assault, however. Instead, they were carrying huge bags, each containing a nasty present. The sniper scope provided a much clearer visual: blocks of C4, hardwired to a crude electrical circuit and a cellphone. The men began to plant the makeshift bombs around the building's support beams and most vulnerable areas.
"Time's up, Odysseus.", the woman radioed again. "We're tracking their QRF almost two klicks, to the southeast. ID'd them as British Army."
Told you so.
"Roger that Mother Goose. Disengaging now."
The woman on his earpiece seemed disappointed that Caleb was right on the money yet again. Unbeknownst to her, he was seething in anger. The goddamn spooks didn't anticipate Team Rainbow would regroup during their attack. Only a handful of Priority Kills were confirmed tonight; none of whom were on his personal hit list. And now it seemed he wouldn't be able to stay and enjoy himself a bit longer. Bitterly, he folded the bipod of his scoped M24 and slung the weapon across his back. He then packed up his fancy targeting device as he stood up, carrying by its handle.
"Gold Team, what's your status?"
"Charges set, sir!", another man spoke into his earpiece. Automatic fire rang in the background. "Generator room is blocked off; we won't have time to cut the power."
"Just get ready to blow the charges on my mark.", Caleb radioed in a calm voice. "We are prepping the evac, over."
"Understood!"
It was a lie. They were actually several minutes past their timeframe and the Brits were already on their way. A sacrifice was needed. Without looking back, Caleb headed to the tarmac, where two inert RAF Blackhawks awaited him and his crew. Great care was taken to spare these helicopters from tonight's onslaught, but they were just for show. The turncoats needed assurance that there was a ride out of here waiting for them – they wouldn't know that the cockpits were empty.
Treadway's orders were strict: his most trusted man and his personal entourage were to be given priority extraction. Everyone essential to the plan needed to be out of Europe hours before the real slaughter could begin. And so, Caleb made a detour and slipped away, past upturned crates, smoking wrecks, and gouts of flame that sprouted everywhere. A ruined and bloody battlefield like this had many shadows with which he could use to make his exit. He and his men would rendezvous at a different location, where Mother Goose had prepared a subtler exodus plan for them all.
"Do it now.", he radioed once he reached the Base's outer fence.
He didn't bother to look behind him and gaze at the blasts.
…
...
*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*
Erin felt her ears as though they were blown out of her head. Painful and ringing. The building shook violently and collapsed some of the nearby rooms. At the same time, bullets zipped through the air from all directions. The Russian guy in her group scurried for cover, only for two bullets to pierce his side and force him down on the ground. Erin was too disoriented to scream in terror. Here in this hallway, with eyes closed and teeth gritted in a desperate scream, she instead found herself covering little Agnes with her own body. When she opened her eyes, the world was a blur. Smoke and soot billowed from the blasts, nearly choking the corridor that she and her little group were at. The big guy with them was still flat on the ground, whereas Sky, flat on her back, was writhing in pain like Erin was.
Her pistol was on the ground beside her.
Erin then heard footsteps up ahead. They sounded like heavy boots, rushing up the stairs in front of her. Panic began to set in, even as gnawing dread started to take hold in her heart. It was a familiar feeling, but one that she had grown to hate over the past few days. Time and again she was thrust in battles where she was helpless and vulnerable. Not anymore. Before she knew it, she reached a hand out to grab Sky's pistol. It was the same one that she relinquished from the dead guard who tried to kill them in the Infirmary earlier.
She kept her eyes forwards, focused on the stairwell where she heard the shuffling feet, gripping the cold metal of the weapon like she knew what she was doing. Whether or not the safety was engaged didn't matter to her, nor did it register to her disoriented mind. She wanted the first person to come out of the stairwell to be a bad guy.
She got what she wanted. The man who walked up the last step of the stairs, gripping a rifle, wasn't wearing the same uniform as her protectors. She screamed at him, not in fright, but with utter hatred.
*BANG! BANG!*
He dropped instantly the moment a bullet struck his head. Erin continued to yell despite her deafened ears, firing wildly with untrained fingers. It was rage, pure and unyielding, born from a desire to protect herself and the little girl in her arms. The painful ringing in her head was so great that she didn't hear another person kneel beside her, firing into the same direction with a rifle. It was the French lady again, who nudged her to pull back while another woman with braided red hair advanced forward with her own weapon. More flashes came from their gun-barrels, resonating as silent thuds in the air to Erin's impaired hearing.
At this point, it was safe for her to curl up and close her eyes. The whole world could crumble around her and she wouldn't even notice.
...
...
*thunderclap*
It had only been several minutes since the shooting ceased, but the stillness was enough to last a lifetime. More soldiers had arrived from elsewhere. British ones. They came in with tanks and helicopters, even if they were a tad too late.
While Erin stood in the middle of a wet asphalt with a blanket covering herself and Agnes, her eyes blankly stared at the people moving about. Her ears had somewhat recovered, giving her a better idea on what was happening around her. Some of the soldiers checking the wreckages strewn about in the tarmac, others were kicking in doors at various buildings to see if they were safe. Many, still, were counting the dead bodies, covered in blankets or stuffed in body bags, and arranging them accordingly on the wet asphalt. Metal shards, bullet cases, and other debris were littered everywhere. The smell was even worse; she'd rather be back at the Infirmary from earlier, with the stench of bleach and antiseptics.
Despite her own injuries, Sky took it upon herself to check if Erin and the little girl were fine and unharmed. Thankfully, all they got were a few scratches here and there, from splinters. Erin recalled the conversation she had with her earlier - whatever levity they initially had was gone. Now, everyone looked like they'd been through hell. Least of all Emma, who approached them while they were given first aid. Her rifle dangled in front of her by the sling, while her left arm cradled a fancy machine with wheels. She looked haggard, listless, and her disheveled complexion had a mix with grime, sweat, and blood.
"Mina...", she called to Sky with an exhausted voice. "...I disabled the bombs they left behind in the hangars. Ash wants you to check which of our aircraft is still air-worthy."
"Did we get them all? Did we get the bastards who did this?!"
"...I-I'm not sure. Je suis désolé (I'm sorry)."
The pilot walked away without wasting more her breath. The other two women stared at each other for a while, silent exchanging words that didn't need saying. The Frenchwoman paused to catch her breath, but then she glanced at the soldiers tending to the corpses. Among those standing around was a mustached man with fancy glasses, clad in the same black uniform that the Frenchwoman was wearing. Erin didn't catch his name. As for the dead, she saw that one of them was another man in a fancy suit right before a British soldier zipped up the body bag.
"Collinn...", she overheard Emma call her colleague. "...H-How bad is it?"
"Barston's gone. Oryx and Tachanka are critical. We're still counting the KIA... "
The woman grimaced and lowered her head. Erin felt sorry for her, as if her somber expression couldn't get any worse. Without thinking, she walked to her and her colleague, with Agnes's hand clasped around hers. Part of Erin wanted to impart soothing words now that she'd seen the steep price her protectors had paid. Two of them, the ones they called 'Oryx' and 'Tachanka', were being tended to by the medics not far from where they stood.
"How did this happen... How did this happen..."
Those were the only words that Emma could muster. She bent over slightly, with a hand pressed on her stomach. She probably wanted to throw up.
On the other hand, Erin found herself staring at the bodies. What little she could see from the half-opened corpse bags were sleeves of blue and grey. They also had a distinctive shoulder patch: a bucking horse on a globe, with the word 'Puissance' written on it. She didn't pay it too much attention before, but now she had time and space to broaden her perspective. And when she thought about it, the name was very familiar, as it appeared in the list of companies from the data that she extracted. Puissance Group is a private security firm, one of the largest in the world, with financial ties to both the bank she used to work for and some people in the American government. Dozens of names, dozens of faces. But out of all the individuals she saw in that database she hacked into, one stuck out like a sore thumb. Agnes had told her about it earlier too, and the kid's eyes were bidding her to remember.
Of course. She should've made the connection sooner.
"...It's him.", she muttered. "...The old guy with glasses."
"Pardon?", Emma turned around.
"Back in San Francisco, Ethan and I dug up a lot of names with ties to Puissance Group and Ithaca Corporation… Agnes said one of them was the who kidnapped her. An old man, bald-headed, with glasses…"
The words caused the Frenchwoman's eyes to widen. Might have been someone she'd met before, or perhaps something military-related that Erin couldn't understand. Either way, the man's description alone started to turn a few more heads around. Even the mustached fellow that Emma was talking to earlier suddenly became intrigued. A luckless civilian had become the center of their attention, at that moment.
"Agnes saw him too, when she was kidnapped…", Erin continued. "…it's the Secretary of Homeland Security. Robert Treadway."
"Mon Dieu."
The other woman was aghast when that name was dropped. Why the name of an American official would cause such an alarm eluded Erin's head. Perhaps these brave men and women who saved her from San Francisco had dealings with that particular man in the past. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. As Emma paced around, deep in her thoughts, Erin pressed on with her talking...
...
She could not have anticipated the response she got.
"Do you know something?"
"Tonight wasn't a revenge attack…", Emma muttered anxiously. "…Someone authorized our assassination…"
…
"The Stadium", Elis, Greece
At the same time
...
The Infirmary. Dominic Brunsmeier seemed to have developed a habit of ending up in the office of Gustave Kateb. Training accidents, per usual. Just as Dominic feared, the dummy rounds that Twitch and the other R&D guys had given them a few days ago were still strong enough to draw blood. In his case, it was just a nasty graze on his left arm, with the bullet tearing through the fabric of his uniform. Could've been worse. He reclined in his seat while the good doctor tended his injury, no matter how unnecessary he felt it was.
If there was anyone in the room who truly needed help, however, it would be Nøkk. "Karina", if that's really her name. Her bed was just a table away from Dominic, where she laid motionless and unresponsive. A heart monitor showed signs of life, but the IV on her arm and her deathly pale complexion, paler than usual, both indicated otherwise. Never in anyone's wildest dreams did they think the spry and creepy loner would come back from Moscow as a casualty - poisoned with some toxin after her cover was blown. A terrible way to go. Dominic was still angry about that, as he and his comrades could've done something, anything, to prevent that outcome. Grim Sky could've been an armed backup for her, certainly better than playing games here in Greece.
"Don't worry about her.", Gustave spoke to him. "She's stable now. With luck, she'll wake up in a few days."
"Hmph. Do you even know what the bastards used on her?"
"…Not yet. Lera and CBRN are still looking into it."
Dominic scoffed again. He hated being reminded just how little power any of them had against things beyond their control.
A bandage roll and a swab of mercurochrome later, he stood up from Gustave's desk and went towards the door. A simple nod would be his only gesture of thanks to the doctor, who was a rather good sport about it. Before he stepped out of the room, Dominic looked at Nøkk again, briefly feeling somber. She's a fighter. He could only hope and pray that she would pull through without too many deep scars. She was Rainbow's sole casualty so far – a silver lining, perhaps the only one he could think of about that botched mission in Russia.
Things could've been worse.
...
"Whew!", Miles Campbell exclaimed. "Now that was a goddamn shitshow..."
Twin doors swung ajar. There were no cheers, no pats to each other's backs among the handful of Operators inside the locker room – men and women fresh from this day's morning exercise. Dominic, remembering the bandage on his left arm, was none too happy himself to have been a part of it all.
The German paused his steps to take off his helmet, inspect the fresh pockmarks that marked his "deaths" during the match. Five kills, eight deaths in six nail-biting engagements with fellow Rainbow Operators participating in the Program. Not bad scores, all things considered, but frankly he didn't care a lick of it. Dominic wiped off the chalk-stains on his headgear, as the rest of his teammates went to their respective lockers to stash away their equipment. Aria "Alibi" de Luca, who shared with his disdain for these exercises, tossed her gloves into her locker with a heavy sigh. Morowa "Clash" Evans sat on a bench, contemplating about her bulky riot shield and how it failed her today, despite her best efforts. Taina "Caveira" Pereira didn't accompany them to the locker room, for Harry pulled her aside to talk about her sportsmanship, or lack thereof. As for Miles, he was the only one with the cool head, as always, for he simply stacked his UMP into its proper compartment without a hint of anger nor frustration. Not exactly a dignified end for Rainbow's Urban Response Team, "Grim Sky", in an otherwise friendly competition.
"…Still, it wasn't all that bad.", he tried to cheer them up. "We gave Nomad and her guys one hell of a fight."
"It's a waste of time either way.", Dominic bitterly remarked.
His gripe was the same as before: while he was here in Greece to please some suits in a fancy stadium, some of Rainbow were actually deployed half a world away for an important mission. Emmanuelle, Eliza, Julien. If anything, Dominic was jealous of them, not because they were about to put their lives on the line for a noble cause, but because they were actually doing what they signed up for. Doing a little bit of good and removing a little bit of evil from the world – that had always been fulfilling to people such as them.
"Give it a rest, will you?", Aria rolled her eyes as she stashed her weapon away. "Today was a good run."
"I wasn't asking your opinion, Alibi."
There was venom in his words, which she responded to with a dismissive scoff. Dominic might normally feel his vitriol was unwarranted, but this one was different. He knew Aria was working for Under-Secretary-General Barston. He knew she was feeding him information about the Team's current activities, which probably led to the creation of this Program nonsense in the first place. It's always about needless politics with the UN after all. Whether or not Aria believed in them too, she owed her membership in Rainbow to the man who was holding their leash. Alas, he had no proof, nor did he even bother to, as he didn't want to sink to that level either.
"Woah, let's not throw down with each other, alright?", Miles interceded. "Save it for what's gonna come next; Meghan's gave me a sitrep after the match."
"You what now?", Morowa frowned at him, more than the usual.
"Since we're out of the competition and CBRN's still got their hands full, we have the green light to be Rainbow's Alpha Team. And sounds like we're gonna be headin' knee-deep into something big soon."
Dominic raised his eyebrow. Briefly, he had forgotten his frustration and tuned his ears to what he wanted to hear.
"*sigh* Care to elaborate on that Miles?"
"Ethan finally made a breakthrough in America.", the team leader went on. "Long story short: he gave us solid intel on who's financing the bastards we've been hunting down all over the world."
"Are we looking at another snatch-and-grab operation?", Mei Lin inquired, also anxious to listen.
"That depends. Meg and Erik are still working out the details with their spooks; we just gotta be ready once Rainbow gets the green light to move out."
"Right on!", Morowa bumped her fists. "Now we're talking!"
"Rest up, people. We're gonna have an inventory check in two hours. Standard loadout, the works…"
And just like that, the frown from the German's mug instantly evaporated. Subtle cheers and smiles were shared in the locker room, as the members of Grim Sky realized that they were finally freed from the pointless "realistic simulations" they'd been partaking for the past few weeks now. At long last, they would no longer be sidelined, and actually be given the chance to use their skills to the fullest – in the service of all they'd sworn to defend. Miles was all so pleased with himself as well. His small grin didn't leave his face even when his cellphone rang and he placed it to his ear…
…
…
Or so Dominic thought. He fell silent as the American's expression changed in just a few heartbeats. One moment, the man was filled with satisfaction. The next, his eyes went wide, and his mouth curled down into dread.
"Miles? What is it?"
His eyes moved slightly to face the German's - the unspoken message remained the same. Trepidation, confusion… pain. Neither man was prepared to hear the words.
"H-Hereford Base just got hit. Harry's calling an emergency meeting. Now."
The cheers immediately ceased. Silence resumed in the locker room, thicker and heavier than before, save for Mei Lin and Aria gasping in disbelief. Only Dominic had the gall to break the still air.
"Did we lose anyone?", he asked.
Even he felt his own voice suddenly break, falling apart into tiny pieces. Alas, Miles didn't answer him. It fueled a sudden anger, one he'd thought was already cooled, and brought it back to life.
"…DID WE LOSE ANYONE?!"
...
Author's Notes and Comments: Welp, here's a long one again. This chapter was originally intended to begin and end with the Hereford Base attack, but I decided to include the first bits of the next chapter here as well so that it will have a greater impact. I also hope I did Thorn some justice here; I ripped off her scene from the High Calibre teaser trailer last year.
For anyone wondering, the names of Rainbow's "red shirts" were inspired by the old Ghost Recon games (I changed the first names for those who had them). They're also meant to represent the five main CTUs, since the Recruits were originally introduced as such when the game was released, before they were streamlined to what we know them now.