.
EPILOGUE
Clark International Airport, Philippines
Five days later
...
The airport lounge was rife with the sights and sounds of travelers. A female voice echoed across a large space through the speakers, making announcements in English and the home language. Footsteps mixed with pushcart wheels and idle chatting, melding with throngs of people waiting for their flights or walking to their respective gates. Within the din of sounds from an otherwise normal day, however, there were two pairs of distinct footsteps - a woman and a little girl walking the opposite direction, hand-in-hand.
For Erin Reyes-Cosgrove, this moment was somewhat magical. She couldn't remember the last time she visited her father's land of birth, so she was amazed to see for the first time the large, yawning, bamboo-colored arches of Clark Airport's Arrival terminal. A little taste of hospitality her people were always proud of. Never in her wildest dreams she would be coming here with a little girl who wasn't even of her blood, though she loved her regardless. The laughter they've shared and the warm feeling in their hearts did wonders to help her forget, if but for a moment, the circumstances that led her to fly thousands of miles away from America. This wasn't home, her home, but it was alright.
Truth be told, she might never even see it again. She needed to get used to this foreignness.
~Good morning, princess! How can I help you?~
Agnes's smartphone chimed again with the singsong voice of its female virtual assistant, who happily translated some of the foreign words she was seeing in this new environment. The phone was a parting gift from that French lady in England. Little more than a toy in the hands of Agnes, but the computer program nevertheless did wonders to her emotional wellbeing. It had been a virtual shrink of sorts these past few days, imparting positivity whenever gloom wanted to overtake them. Erin smiled to herself seeing Agnes fiddle with the phone and make small talk with the fake person on her screen, as though she was an entranced, yet ordinary girl. Considering what they'd been through, at least they still had the courage to be happy again.
"Erin!", a man called to her in a thick accent.
She turned around immediately, and saw an elderly, balding man in a white polo shirt and worn jeans, waving his hand. Her face beamed into a portrait of joy when she saw him walk briskly towards her with open arms. They hugged each other tightly and gently, and Erin couldn't help but sob silently into the man's shoulder. Joy, grief, and relief melded together in a way she struggled to understand.
"…Anak ko (My daughter)… Sobrang nag-alala ako sa iyo… (I was so worried about you)… Welcome home… Welcome home..."
"Dad…", she sniffled. "…ang dami nangyari sa akin (a lot happened to me)…"
He wept harder when he heard those words, but then he took a deep breath and rubbed away his tears, the gently wiped hers with a soft thumb.
"It is okay.…", he said with a heavy accent. "…Y-You can tell me everything later? Yes?"
"Yeah…", she wiped away her tears. She looked at the little girl with the best smile she could wear. "…Agnes, this is my tatay - my father."
It felt weird saying that word since Agnes didn't share their blood. Still, her father bent down to greet the kid with a bright smile regardless. She quivered at first and tugged at the woman's jacket, but then she slowly raised a hand and give him a high-five. It lifted her spirits enough to reciprocate the stranger's smile with her own. Erin felt her heart grow even lighter, seeing the kid accept her dad's well wishes.
She was so swept up by emotions that she was to realize that her father actually had company with him. Two people, a man and a woman, had stood by while parent and child were reunited. Erin noticed that they weren't from any of her Filipino-kin. The man shared her tanned complexion and had a stern yet gentle countenance, while his fair partner seemed much friendlier, standing a head shorter than him with her black hair tied neatly into a bun. Both were in formal-looking black suits and carried themselves as professionals. Erin had spent more than enough time with soldiers and police-types to realize that these two were cut from the same cloth.
Team Rainbow had told her about them before she left England.
"Miss Cosgrove? Ma'am?", the man called her attention with a gruff voice and heavy accent. "…I am Sergeant Rico Escolta. I have Inspector Abigail Gozon here with me."
The two of them walked towards her, with the man flashing his badge as a formality. 'Philippine National Police'. It looked legit.
"We're from the Special Action Force.", went his companion, speaking English with a smoother American-sounding accent. "We are ordered to escort you to your new residence."
"Oh, special service for me? I hope you're not expecting a tip. I-I'm unemployed.", Erin blurted the first lame joke that came to mind. It spoke about her snobbish California upbringing more than anything.
"*chuckles* This one is on the house, ma'am. Follow me please.", she was fortunate the female officer took it in stride.
Erin did as she was told, scooping up Agnes in her arms while her father carried some of her bags and the other policeman walked behind them. A few people in the Terminal stared at them curiously, recognizing such an unusual entourage from the crowd. Soon enough, they left the busy airport building and met with a couple more sharply-dressed individuals outside, waiting beside a white heavy-duty SUV. Two police motorcycles were there as well, this time manned by a pair of officers who weren't as subtle, thanks to their blue riding suits and face-concealing helmets. None of these guys were ordinary beat cops.
"Romeo-Six, Romeo-One...", the female officer spoke softly into a microphone on her right sleeve. "...all principals secured. Sitrep is Alpha Sierra at Terminal Two, ready for egress, over."
Erin didn't dare decipher what the code phrases meant, but they nonetheless confirmed her gut feeling. The suits that were with her were true professionals; people sworn to defend her as Rainbow had claimed. Inspector Gozon opened the passenger door and bid her to have a seat inside with a faint, reassuring grin. The other cops did their best to shield their charges as they stepped into the vehicle, protecting them from any would-be danger. The intimidating policeman was the last person to hop aboard until he was sure that everything was secure. Then, the vehicle revved its engine and started to drive.
Only then did it dawn on Erin that her life would never be the same again. She could never hope to have a return to normalcy, not after everything that happened. On the contrary, the knowledge she possessed and the things she'd done had made her incredibly dangerous to certain individuals. The only way to keep her safe was to hide her away in some place the bad guys would not dare look nor touch without raising a fuss. Part of her wanted to believe that this was but a temporary arrangement – that her flying to the Philippines with Agnes was only a short-term solution until Team Rainbow could find a better one. Alas, she also knew it would be foolish of her to believe as such. So much blood had been shed already. So many had been sacrificed, or lost in the crossfire. Justin, her husband. Her coworkers Abby, Maya, and Lyle… those brave soldiers in England… Ethan Mallory… Erin felt her eyes swell just trying to remember them all.
She had to live on. For their sake.
"Romeo-Six, Romeo-One: confirm traffic clearance from Hotel Papa Golf along the Expressway? Southbound, one-lane, for one white Crosswind and two motor escorts, over."
The officer spoke to her hidden microphone again. Their little convoy moved to the main thoroughfare, at which point vehicles ahead of them were ordered to clear out by uniformed police officers standing beside the lane. They brandished some mean-looking weapons as they zipped past the windscreen's view. Agnes recognized them and quickly buried her face into Erin's chest, whimpering.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. They're the good guys."
The words seemed to have calmed the poor kid's nerves, but she didn't dare look out the window again...
...
...
"You and your daughter went through a lot, eh?", the sergeant asked.
Erin was taken aback by the question. She opened her mouth, but held back the first, logical response that came to mind. 'No, she's not my daughter'. Yet after all they'd been through, she didn't have the heart to say it. She still remembered that day when she showed Justin that pink envelope from her doctor, telling her she would never become a mother. Yet right here, right now, she felt she was the next best thing. Without saying another word, she hugged Agnes closer to her chest, in lieu of a straight answer. At the corner of her eye, she saw her father smile. In turn, Erin knew she was doing the right thing. Such a strange pair, they were: the daughter of a dead terrorist and an unfortunate office worker, caught in the middle of a massive conspiracy that shook her country to the core. No wonder people still wanted her dead. Having survived the worst so far, it was time for them to start anew.
It wasn't perfect, but they were safe enough. They were alive.
As the vehicle continued the long journey along a road cleared of traffic, the driver turned on the radio to pass the time. A news story from across the world started to play. It struck too close to home, but Erin didn't mind. The radio was but white noise for her, as she stared into the distance...
...
…
"…Following days of intense debate in Capitol Hill, the majority voted in favor of investigating the White House's decision five days ago to mobilize multiple US Navy Fleets, including the Supercarrier "USS John P. Ryan" in the Baltic, for an as-of-yet unspecified military operation that was called off at the last minute. The White House allegedly ordered the operation at the behest of the Senate Enhanced Domestic Defense Committee, headed by Senator Patricia Darcy, who was known recently for her fiery remarks against Moscow and the subsequent attempt on her life. When questioned about the basis for this order, a spokesperson from the Joint Chiefs of Staff insisted the deployments fell within the purview of the Saint-Claire Law, which gave leeway for US forces to operate without full Congressional approval in response to, quote, clear and present dangers to national security, unquote.
Senator Darcy supported the Joint Chiefs' statement during her courtesy speech today, alluding to intelligence reports from the Department of Homeland Security that the eco-terrorist group "Earth's Hope" and their allies were being directed by foreign powers. Unfortunately, Homeland Secretary Robert Treadway has so far failed to appear at the Senate hearings and corroborate these claims, with his office refusing to comment as to his current whereabouts. As a result, opposition to the Saint-Claire Law was renewed within Congress, with some representatives from both Parties now believing that the law has been misused in enforcing the government's will at home and abroad.
The recent pronouncements from various world leaders have further increased tensions, despite the UN Secretary General's appeal for all actors to exercise restraint and use diplomatic channels to resolve their grievances…
…
In other news, a federal court has ordered Ithaca Corporation and the London-based Puissance Group to suspend their US-operations indefinitely, following an ongoing investigation by the Treasury Department that uncovered both companies' involvement in corporate sabotage and abetting terrorism. Ithaca Corporation, in particular, is scrutinized for its purchase of Holdstadt AG two months ago, when the multi-billion-Euro German company declared bankruptcy after its Spire Project in Denmark was destroyed in a terrorist attack… If the claims of terrorist collusion are proven true, however, then this may be the biggest case of corporate-sponsored terrorism the world has yet seen since 2000, when the Horizon Corporation's ties with the extremist "Phoenix Group" organization were uncovered.
To give us more on this story, we are joined right now by our correspondent at Ithaca's headquarters in Minneapolis…"
…
Manor Road Building
University of Oxford, England
...
"...And Miss Erin is now en route to the new safe house as we speak. I have the personal assurance of the National Police Chief that she's in good hands."
Harry sipped a warm cup of tea after he spoke. He also kept an eye on the window to his office, peering into the parking lot outside. A few of his Operators were waiting there for him, standing beside a parked car.
He would join him as soon as he was done with his video call here. He hoped his report about Erin Reyes-Cosgrove's situation would be enough to put some of Aurelia Arnot's fears to rest, whom he was speaking with through his laptop's screen. She was still in Moscow, hospitalized but in slightly better spirits. Her face was an image of frustration and anger because of what had transpired in America and in Hereford. Harry understood her plight, but personally he didn't need a lecture or a critique from her either. It had only been a couple of days since he attended several funerals of Team Rainbow's fallen - Gordon, Munz, Dubois, Kozlov, and Tunney. He could tell that Aurelia felt incredibly guilty about them too, since it was she who trusted Homeland Security's word to work with Puissance Group, not knowing about their treachery.
"Can you even trust those people?", she asked, referring to Cosgrove's supposed 'guardians'. It was clear she didn't want to repeat the same mistake. "Why didn't you involve their senior agency?"
"Ma'am, the Bureau of Investigation would've tipped off someone in the American Embassy, and therefore your government.", Harry answered respectfully. "Besides, the officers I picked were also a few prospects for our roster, so I can vouch for them."
"Hmm..."
It seemed to have worked. Her once fierce expression had toned down to something more neutral, enough for the Director of Team Rainbow to mentally breathe a sigh of relief. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, he mused, nobody would ever know who was the whistleblower to the US Treasury Department. Obviously, it's far from an ideal arrangement to have an innocent young woman's life permanently uprooted to a foreign land, but the alternatives were much worse. He made a mental note to keep tabs on Erin Reyes-Cosgrove every now and then, if only out of a misplaced sense of responsibility on Rainbow's part.
Time for other matters, then.
"So, anything more from the Russian government?", he asked.
"Pretty much what you saw in the news.", Aurelia replied. "Privately? Madam Rosebud thanks us all for stopping the end of the world. But she doesn't want to work with us again, ever."
"Well, we did shoot down a few of their jets...", spoke another person in the monitor. "...I bet Moscow won't ever let that slide. We gotta be ready for a reprisal."
Sam Fisher was back in Greece after the mixed success of their mission in Hamburg. He was talking to them from the Stadium's Command Room, judging by the dank and dreary background, lit up only by dozens of computer monitors. The grizzled black ops veteran had his arms crossed, clearly exuding an aura of authority.
"Then there's the matter of Treadway and Darcy.", he went on. "Both of 'em are getting flak for what happened in Russia, yet the Senator's calm about the whole thing."
"That's because she knows she's protected by Congress.", Aurelia shared her thoughts. "Nobody would dare undermine the head of the Enhanced Domestic Defense Committee, now that America's proven herself vulnerable again."
"Indeed.", Harry sighed. "I suppose that means your new post in the State Department is more of a punishment than a promotion?"
"Hmph. You don't even know the half of it."
Politics. It had always been the biggest bane for good men and women from making the world a better place. With the death of Under-Secretary-General Baldwin and the business with Zero Protocol, the Security Council now demanded more checks and balances with Rainbow's operations. Harry leaned back on his seat and took another gulp from his tea cup, which was now half-full. He had hoped to bring disparate entities together through The Program, away from the politicking. Yet even now, tensions were brewing within Rainbow as well, what with the incident with Specialist Melnikova in Moscow, as well as Eliza Cohen's concerns about the Nighthaven specialists they'd been running ops with. Perhaps the only good things that Harry could count these days were that the terrorists had been stopped and the Team's remaining casualties, like Specialist Senaviev and "Nøkk", were on their way to a full recovery.
He tried his damnedest not to think about the one MIA they still had. Ethan Mallory. Oddly, Nighthaven was yet to report about what happened in America...
...
"You think the two of them had a falling out?", Sam asked Aurelia about the two American officials.
"Possibly. Treadway seems to have left Darcy out to dry. Could be the other way 'round, though. Not sure."
"I believe I have another theory...", went the older gent, who then turned to someone off-screen. "...Flores? Tell them what you found."
From there, another image booted up in Harry's computer. Specialist Santiago "Flores" Lucero, another one of the Team's sleuths. Harry remembered that the Argentinian, ex-FBI asset had accompanied Sam in Moscow for a separate mission of his own, known only to the head of Rainbow's Operational Staff. Flores had a white shirt on, but still donned his signature glasses, bringing a bit more color to contrast the rest of his colleagues in the Command Room.
"Si señor.", he pushed up his glasses. "There's a bigger picture here - current events, I think, are but a smokescreen for something else..."
Flores then typed something in a keyboard, because a series of screens popped up on Harry's monitor a few moments later. Intrigued, the Director skimmed through them, quickly realizing they were financial records and invoices. Many of these no doubt contained confidential information, which was the whole point of Flores's secret mission.
"...PMCs are booming as of late: Nightaven in particular, now that Puissance Group is going under. And then I looked into the offshore accounts of known global conglomerates..."
More screens popped up, but Harry had gotten the message at this point.
"...Long story short? Seems that certain people have become richer now that the superpowers are in a pissing contest again."
Harry continued studying the data, then slowly widened his eyes in shock. Most of these accounts were directly linked to federal government holdings in Washington DC, only obfuscated through dummies and false names. Their owners, however, were a different matter. Aurelia was genuinely surprised to see them, as her expression mimicked her protégée's.
"These are... shareholders?", she asked.
"Oligarchs and politicians, señora. This business with Ithaca Corporation and the activation of Zero Protocol... I think someone in DC is benefitting from it financially."
A strange outcome, but not at all surprising. The global economy had always been molded by geopolitics, for better or worse. Of course, Aurelia had a different notion, which Harry quickly caught.
"Darcy... she's hunkering down. Waiting out the storm."
"I've no proof of it yet, but I believe she has ties with all the players involved.", Flores continued. "Ithaca, Puissance Group... possibly a few other companies."
Harry felt a pit form in his stomach. He refused to accept that these bombings and killings, this flirting with all-out war, seemed to be a deliberate ploy for a big payday. More questions formed in his head. White Masks, Earth's Hope... These terrorists had different motives. This whole time ideologies weren't even the justification for their crimes. They needed to dig deeper.
"Another "patriot"... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this point...", Aurelia muttered. "...We need answers, from the horse's mouth if we have to. Harry?"
For the second time, he immediately picked up what she was thinking.
"Are you... are you suggesting we sanction an operation against a United States Senator?"
"Put a pin on it at least. Darcy's too well-connected and heavily-protected for us right now. Our first order of business is to find Treadway."
"Hmm. Makes sense, since Treadway provided the muscle and the weapons.", Sam concurred. "And once we do find him?"
Aurelia paused, then glanced aside with her eyes closed. She was struggling to contain her emotions.
...
...
"...I'd give Bob a piece of my mind, then shoot his goddamn head off... A good friend of mine had to die because of what he did."
Sam and Harry silently nodded. They knew she didn't want to say those words, but she was human like everyone else in Rainbow. And like them, she suffered in the hands of madmen.
If she desired righteous revenge, she would have it, in time. Harry stood up from his desk and peered outside the window again. His operatives were getting restless in the parking lot, perhaps in tune with their old boss's emotions. He empathized with them all - he was normally not keen to indulge in violence himself, but Harry felt that something needed to be done. The Program needed to work. To bring everyone together in a common cause and learn from each other, now that their enemies were becoming much more bold and subtle in equal measure. There would be more long struggles ahead. Team Rainbow needed to find and capture Secretary Robert Treadway, get answers from him. Beat them out if him, if they had to.
"Suffice to say, sirs and madam...", he muttered. "...our work is clearly far from over."
He placed his arms on his side while he contemplated their next move. Only one thing was clear. For the first time in forever, Doctor Pandey clenched his fist.
...
...
Emmanuelle Pichon desperately needed a change of scenery. Lucikly for her, the campus of Oxford University had most of what she needed: lush greens, trees, and a medley of classical and modern architecture that her home was known for. Manor Road Building certainly reflected the aesthetic, so it was not at all bad for her to return this place. Birds were chirping and students were going about their merry way. And yet, despite all the pleasant sights and sounds, she still had the urge to reach into her back pocket and light up a stick. She needed something else in her lungs, despite knowing how unhealthy it was.
"Something troubling you, Twitch?", asked the Dominic Brunsmeier, who was standing beside Harry's car, same as she was.
The normally astute Frenchwoman was today at a loss of words. Instead, she offered him her pack of cigarettes - a rather pensive way of telling him to just shut up. Little did he know that the carnage she'd witnessed, the terror she survived almost a week ago were still fresh and vivid. Or perhaps he did know, but didn't dare bring it up. Emma seemed distracted lately and she knew it. She didn't even notice that the fingers holding her cig were trembling until she exhaled the smoke from her nostrils.
"Things... things have changed, haven't they?", she asked her colleague after taking a puff. "After what happened in Hereford Base..."
"Don't worry your smart little head about it.", he replied bluntly as he brought out his lighter. "Harry knows what he's doing with the Program."
"I think there's more to come. We're only getting started for something. I-I just know it."
They would be leaving their old home. Possibly for good. Strategically, Elis Island made a lot of sense as a new safe haven. It wasn't in the middle of nowhere, so the bad guys wouldn't be as bold to pull a hit on them without the locals noticing. Moving to Elis also meant that Rainbow would now be a lot closer to Nighthaven's main area of operations in the Mediterranean. Plenty of materiel and manpower to go about, assuming their relationship with the mercs remained positive.
And yet, these reassurances weren't enough for Emma. She was still searching for something else that would truly calm her down.
"Director Pandey?", Dominic called out.
So caught up with her own thoughts, she didn't notice her boss had stepped out of the building's front doors. Instinctively, Emma took out the cigarette from her lips and put it out under her heel, whereas the bearded man beside her kept his, seemingly without a care. Luckily, their boss didn't seem to mind them flaunting the campus's smoking rules. He, too, looked deep in thought himself.
"Time for us to go back.", he called to them while carrying a briefcase on his right hand. "I've got our clearances with me. Embarkation details are in the PDAs."
"*sigh* Understood, sir...", went the German.
The car beeped as its auto-locks were disengaged. As the two men made their way inside, however, Emma stepped in front of Harry, calling his attention.
"Director Pandey... any good news? W-What's the word from Ethan?"
His expression shifted a bit, glancing his eyes down to the side. She could already see the disappointment coming from a mile away.
"Still nothing. I'm sorry, Emmanuelle."
The only 'good' thing he could give her was a gentle tap on the shoulder.
It wasn't enough. Emma felt anger slowly build up in her heart. She wasn't distressed, but she wasn't at peace either. It had been far too long since Ethan checked in, and she wanted to blame herself for not coming to his rescue in San Francisco. Now, he's an MIA, missing in action, which meant his fate was pretty much up in the air. It would've been far better for her to know he'd been killed instead. She felt her eyes swell; she rubbed them quickly before tears could form and trail down her cheek. She needed to be optimistic. As soon as she'd calmed down, she opened the door and sat beside the driver.
"Don't worry about your friend. He'll turn up soon.", Dominic tried to lift her spirits up.
He probably overheard everything, which only served to annoy. She appreciated the concern, though, but she wasn't in the mood.
"*sigh* Just drive, Bandit."
After they fastened themselves in, Dominic turned the engine on and wheeled the car away back to the road. It would be quite a trip before they reached the airport, plenty of time to think by then - worries and regrets, mostly. She peered outside of the window, towards the world that Team Rainbow had just saved from annihilation. Their job wasn't finished. And somewhere out there, one of their own was lost and adrift. Much as she wanted to trust her logic, Emma felt in her heart that Ethan was still alive. He had to be.
She felt a bit sick. There's still so many things they needed to talk about...
...
Worthington, Minnesota
...
A cold, gloomy afternoon. Truly a fitting end to an otherwise uneventful road trip due east, but it was good enough for "Robin" to thank this luck for getting him this far. He slinked away from his pickup truck as swiftly as he could after he'd parked it, warry for watchful eyes. He looked for a bench to sit on, somewhere in this quiet and dreary suburbia, if only so that he could enjoy the last pack of Camels he could grab from his things in DC. He could not forget his first time here: he had been a young man then, fresh from his tour of duty. The short black hair had since disappeared from his head, hazel eyes once full of life and hope had since become a lot more cynical.
As before, there was nobody to greet him. Luckily, the old bar was not too far away from where he stood. Just a short walk and a skip away, giving him plenty of time to brainstorm and plan. He reached his destination not long after: a delipidated building, with boarded up windows and a chained-up doorknob. This was where it all started, as far as he was concerned. "Penny's Place", the first time he met Trish when she was still a waitress. He rifled his pockets for that one key he had kept for this occasion, then pried the lock away, letting the chain fall to the concrete with a clang. Inside, the bar looked very rundown, with cobwebs, dust, and an acrid odor permeating. Nobody would look for him here, the old man thought, as he sat down an old couch by the window.
Still, he never thought he'd return to this place: the fallback position in case everything went to hell. Usually "final refuge" was the same as "final stand", for when there's no more hope to be found in the situation. But Robin, stubborn that he always was, refused to accept his defeat. He searched in his mind where it all went wrong. His intel had always been impeccable, his network had always been robust and effective. He had covered his flanks and did his best to put Team Rainbow out of the picture. Yet, something still caused his entire plan to unravel. Someone knew about the bomb that would've decapitated Moscow, as well as the CIA train to evacuate Darcy and their other assets from the expected Russian or American reprisal.
Then, his cellphone chimed. An unknown caller. Puzzled, he nonetheless made an immediate assumption.
*click*
"Caleb?", he spoke.
...
...
"No, Secretary Treadway. It's me."
It was a woman, but not the one he was expecting.
...
...
"Kali... How did you get this number...?"
"Your partner gave it to me, remember?", she spoke in a slightly-melodious tone. "I thought to ring (call) you now since things are getting dicey in Washington, I hear."
Treadway had made an offer to this Jaimini Shah after Freedom Day. He admired her PMC's sophistication and professionalism, even though they lacked the worldwide reach that Puissance Group had. She didn't ask too many questions; the money was good enough for her, as expected from all mercenaries. And when she said that Team Rainbow approached her as well with a different offer of their own, Treadway thought he had seen another golden opportunity. Puissance Group and Nighthaven, joining forces to decapitate the biggest thorn to his side with one fell-swoop...
"You have the fucking audacity! I trusted you to keep an eye on Team Rainbow, Kali! You didn't tell me they moved their entire operation to Greece!"
...Yet, the latter didn't uphold their end of the bargain. Her goons kept telling him they weren't aware of Rainbow's activities in Greece. He waited in bated breath for her to explain herself...
...
"Heh. Well, you caught me.", she snickered.
And just like that, he was riled again.
"You lying SNAKE! You sabotaged me! We had an agreement you-"
"We agreed on a sum in exchange for our services.", she cut him off, changing her tone to something more assertive. "We agreed to provide security and tech... We did not agree on starting a Third World War just to satisfy your infantile power fantasies."
"Listen here-"
"Who betrayed who, I wonder? I signed up my company because I thought we were only playing spy games and getting paid for it..."
Treadway grew even more furious, struggling to maintain his composure, though also ignoring the fact that she was indeed telling the truth. But she had cost him everything. He thought everything was foolproof, not knowing it was ultimately big mistake to rely on her. Who could blame him, though? He figured that someone as ambitious as the CEO of Nighthaven would jump at the first sign of a big paycheck, then shield herself and her company from the inevitable blowback. Yet she surprised him anyway: it seemed she had lines she would never cross.
"...I'm afraid this particular game, this... myth, you've been putting up has finally ran its course."
"Myth?!", his voice echoed inside the old bar.
"The myth of exceptionalism, Secretary Treadway... As your favourite president once said: for the great enemy of the truth is very often not the lie - deliberate, contrived and dishonest - but the myth - persistent, persuasive, and unrealistic..."
He slammed the desk hard, loud enough for the woman to hear it.
She was mocking him. Mocking his country. She was wrong. He had built a strong foundation for his country to rise up from its downtrodden state and become something the rest of the world respected again. There was nothing "unrealistic" about what he had achieved, about what his beloved nation was capable of now. How dare she to use Kennedy's words against him. How dare she judge him?! She did not know what it was like to be used and discarded as a youth. She did not understand why this was the reason he wanted to change his country so much. He wanted America to be stronger and better than ever, even if it meant dragging it across a bed of coals to wake it up. One day, he thought to himself, America would seize its rightful place again. He would scrape down the barrel, start from scratch if need be to realize that dream, make the same sacrifices again.
She did not understand any of it, being born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She would regret persisting with her finger-wagging.
"...Seriously, I'm amazed how much self-awareness you lack! The "truth" is that your ideals have been out of fashion for decades - yours and your cronies', like Mr. Rojas."
Treadway was stunned with the way she mentioned that name. Carlos Rojas: one of the smugglers he had hired in South America to move the bombs, and whom had planned to dispose of later too. Rojas also knew about Nighthaven's involvement in the plan. Now, it made much more sense why the damn mercs eagerly accompanied Rainbow in the Amazon to hunt him down that day.
"So... you killed him, not Rainbow.", he muttered, finally piecing the pieces together. "You attacked that train too... You brought Rainbow's strike team to Moscow!"
The woman laughed at him, very much amused by his slow realization.
"Correct! See... I'm not sure if I made myself perfectly clear the first time, but I do not work with madmen. Least not for long."
"..."
"You could've achieved much, much more for America if you simply focused on what really matters - like profit, for example."
"You... you greedy goddamn opportunist!"
"And you are a relic, old man. So blinded by the past. The days of Cold Warriors are long over and it's time you finally embrace that reality."
He had enough. He stood up from his seat and raised his voice.
"Impudent bitch! I will HUNT you down! DID YOU HEAR ME?!"
He would do it. If not with whatever was left of his forces, then he would do the deed himself. He knew where her assets were located. First order of business would be to find Caleb; he could use his last connections in the CIA to do that.
"Fare thee well, "Robin". Been a pleasure doing business with you, short as it was...", Kali continued to be unfazed.
This would be her last mistake.
"...Oh, and "Trish" sends her regards."
Then, the line went dead.
So caught up with his rage, Treadway slammed his phone into the table, leaving a huge crack on the surface. He was so incensed about being lectured by a goddamn contractor that it took him a while to consider the most important thing she said to him. 'Trish'. What did Senator Darcy have to do with any of this? He peered out of the window beside his seat, contemplating. He saw a quiet, sleepy townscape, oblivious to what was happening in the world. There was a storefront just a few blocks away from Penny's Place. There was someone in the roof...
...
In a heartbeat, a small light flickered from there. Treadway only had a split second to widen his eyes before the glass in front of him shattered and-
*SPLAT!*
...
...
As the saying went, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Barely out of the proverbial firepan, one soldier had found himself again in the middle of a mission. It was about forty minutes before dusk, but it felt like the day had been going on forever. The cold air and idle boredom in the rooftop were somewhat grating on his nerves, as before. Fortunately, Ethan Mallory had gotten used to it.
*ting!*
Another empty bullet casing landed beside him, rolling along a concrete surface before it stopped short of his body. Hurriedly, he picked it up, mimicking the fieldcraft he had honed for years with Delta and the CIA, then with Rainbow - now, with someone else. It was important he left no evidence. His jacket and balaclava ensured that nobody would see his face when he did the deed.
"Target down.", he radioed.
Robert Jonah Treadway. That was the name that came up when he followed the crumbs that Erin left him with in San Francisco. But even after he had pulled the trigger, Ethan still couldn't believe that the Homeland Secretary was the head of this terrorist conspiracy in Washington DC. The White Masks, Earth's Hope - all of them led back to him. And thanks to a high-tech PMC working with Team Rainbow, they were able to track him down. Ethan didn't dare bother with the 'why', the reasons behind Treadway's action. He only felt hatred. And when he planted a 7.62mm between the old man's eyes, it was a great relief. No need to check the body, for the bloody smear on the windowsill was enough for a confirmed kill.
"Nicely done, Mallory...", replied Jaimini Shah to his earpiece. The Nighthaven people often called her "Kali" for some reason. "...My client would be pleased."
Hmph. Who would that be, I wonder?
Ethan didn't speak another word. Instead, he packed up the M14 EBR by first folding up the bipod, then taking off the scope, the magazine, and the sound suppressor and placing them back into the rifle case beside him. Each piece of the kit was emblazoned with a black owl insignia, much to his chagrin. His movements were swift but well-measured, as he still felt bouts of pain throughout his body, courtesy of the beating he sustained five days ago. With his rifle now packed on his back, he stood up from his sniping spot and made his way down the three-story building, navigating the fire escape as silently as he could. It looked as though he was fleeing the scene of a crime. Which, to be fair, he was. Team Rainbow would never sanction this hit, let alone the many good souls that still remained in the FBI and the CIA. But Ethan felt it had to be done, lest Treadway disappeared into the wind again. He had to pay for his crimes.
...
No. That wasn't it... This was payback. Treadway killed Emily. Plain and simple. Ethan had no proof of it, nor did he need it dropped on his lap, but he knew it in his heart that this fucking bastard had a hand in Emily's death. No court of law would accept it as a valid reason, but it was good enough for him. One less nightmare for him to face in his sleep.
"He was talking to someone on the phone.", Ethan reported. "You have any idea who?"
"Nope. Signals intelligence isn't in our service package.", Kali replied nonchalantly. "Well, not yet anyway."
A bit odd for her to be so dismissive. He wondered if she was hiding something.
As he made his way down the fire escape, he snuck into the backroom of another building, ensuring that there was nobody inside to spot him. Then he took off his mask and pocketed it, and set his bag down to put it away. It was an added precaution, but it seemed like it was actually his paranoia nudging him to the course. He needed to get away from this place, from these people, as fast as possible.
"Kali, I'm moving to the exfil now."
"Roger. We'll pick you up ten klicks below the stateline, as we discussed."
"Sounds good."
"You know, we could really use another sniper like you..."
He smiled to himself, impressed by the gall of this woman to give him a sales pitch.
"...We could pay you thrice what you're getting from Rainbow.", she continued. "Plus, even help you spend more time with your daughter in Massapequa. Interested?"
The last bit only served to turn him off to the whole thing, no matter how genuinely tempting it was. His kid was not a low-hanging fruit, ever.
"I'll think about it.", he lied.
Rather than follow the plan and take a cab outside, he left behind the rifle bag in the backroom - Nighthaven's gear no doubt had trackers on them. Next, he took out his jacket, switching it inside-and-out so to prevent the PMC's drones from finding him from above. A baseball cap he had snatched from a random clothesline earlier would complete his getup. Finally, he turned off the radio and pried its straps from his chest, before winding it up into a small pile and stomping it with the heel of his boot. He scooped up the remnants of the device and stuffed them into his pocket as well - again, to minimize evidence. With a "fresh" set of clothes, he looked like an ordinary passerby, stepping out of the backroom like he had business there. The scant few people outside didn't pay him any attention when he hailed a bus. It would take him back east, or at least far enough for him to reach DC as soon as possible.
He felt himself standing at a precipice. A fork in the road. He could turn back and let proper justice take its course, no matter how long it would take or how long its chances of success were. Or he could take matters in his own hands, to eliminate the threat while they're still weak. Faces flashed in his mind, that of his family, that of his colleagues. No doubt they would judge him for what was to come. And in that flurry of images, a bright young woman stood out. He wanted to see her again, even if it meant hearing her disappointment with him. But he had to make up his mind. He took a deep breath and took a step forward, masking the doubts in his heart by wearing a confident expression.
He was still on a mission. A personal one. The parameters had changed, but the ultimate goal was still the same. Team Rainbow, the CIA, the FBI, perhaps even Nighthaven... no doubt they would look for him, after this. Once he found his seat, he made a quick rundown of the meager belongings he had left. At least he still had his wallet, still laden with terrorist-owned cash. This would buy him more time.
Stashed in between the bills was one picture of a woman. Senator Patricia Darcy.
You're next.
...
- END -
Final Words: And that's a wrap for this story! Never thought it would become way longer than Freedom Day was, but I suppose that's the outcome of the approach I took for this one. In hindsight, there are things I probably should have and should not have done in Zero Protocol, which is why I'll likely revisit this one in the future and give it another touchup or two.
That said, I'm still so glad for the support and the reviews I've gained over the years! I also like to thank my pals for giving me inspiration for certain scenes, and also everyone who followed and favorited. You guys and gals are the best!
As for what's next? I'll probably take a long break first. That'll give me time not just to recuperate, but also for Siege's canon narrative to play out. Maybe I'll have my inspiration by then. Stay safe everyone and see you next time!