Luke shot straight upwards. He was breathing rapidly and covered in sweat. He sat there for a moment trying to catch his breath. It was the same nightmare that had haunted him for 3 years now. He could still hear the shriek of the helicopter ripping itself apart in his head as the explosion pounded in his ears. He could feel that his t-shirt was soaked in sweat. Slowly, he swung his legs onto the cold linoleum floor and looked at his alarm clock. It read 4:32 AM

For fuck's sake. Couldn't be 30 minutes later

He stood up against his knee's protests and walked into the small bathroom of his dorm. He flipped on the light and examined his face in the mirror. Stubble was starting to build up and bruise had formed where Eliza had clocked him. An old and faded scar ran from under his left eye to his jawline, a permanent gift from an encounter with an RPG in Iraq. He looked old considering he was only 29.

He decided a shower was in order considering he had neglected hygiene for the past 2 days. He pulled off his damp t-shirt and turned on the water waiting for it to heat up. After a moment the steam began to pour from behind the curtain and Luke stepped in. He took a small pleasure in a hot shower, the steam and heat cleared his head. After a good 15 minutes, he stepped out into the cold air of his room. He grabbed his only towel off of the counter and began drying himself. Now, what the fuck was he going to do today.

Olivier Flament wasn't one to usually be up early, but, he had neglected to organize medical supplies for a few days and decided to get an early start to catch up. The front desk of the infirmary was covered in half-done requisition papers as he cursed to himself.

"MERDE! Why do we have so little gauze?"

"Probably because Y'all can't go 15 minutes without getting injured"

Olivier jumped. Hernandez stepped out of the shadow of the corner of the room next to the wide open door. The American was unnaturally quiet given his stature.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Good 30 seconds. Need help there?'

"Wouldn't hurt."

"You're Olivier Flament, right? Kateb told me about your career on the flight over here."

Olivier nodded. He could only think about what else Kateb had said.

"I imagine he told you I was an asshole."

"Said you are hard to work with."

"Hah, very reserved of him. There is a list on the desk, it's got all the required amounts of supplies. Just choose one of them that hasn't been checked off and count the cases to make sure we have enough."

"Roger"

Neither of them was for small talk so for the next 45 minutes they worked in silence slowly clearing the floor of boxes.

No small talk. No questions. Good man. If only all the Americans were this quiet. By the time they were done, Olivier groaned. He had over 20 requisition sheets to finish.

"I leave the army but I can never leave the paperwork"

"Hey, keeps us in line"

"So why did you choose Rainbow, Hernandez?"

Luke was somewhat surprised by the question. Olivier didn't even look away from his forms. He contemplated it for a moment. What had he joined Rainbow for? To run away. No. To leave for somewhere that actually did something.

"Couldn't stay where I was at and didn't have any better options"

Olivier could sense the American's uncomfortableness with the question and his answer. He could see him still thinking about even though he had already answered. Another member baggage what a surprise. Then again Flament was one to talk.

"Well. I understand that. Thank you for the help."

A loud klaxon shook the building, startling both operators, as the loudspeakers came to life.

"All operators, report to the mission building with your gear."

Jordan smiled as he pressed the detonator. This was the best damn part of his job.

"A really big fucking hole coming up"

The Brimstone burned with a blinding white light for a couple seconds then fizzled out. Then the C4 activated. The explosion ripped the wall apart as Jordan and Craig primed to stun grenades. They tossed them in and waited for the pop. Zofia tapped his shoulder and they advanced into the room. Within a second, Jordan and Craig were in the room and had eyes on the hostage, a mannequin, but nothing else. Then, Jordan saw 3 large canisters fly past his face.

Tachanka was absolutely right about the attacker's arrogance. For a moment Luke was scared that one of the flashbangs would land behind the desk with him but it had landed on the other side. He flipped down his goggles and watched the world turn into black and white as his FOG mine shot smoke charges into the air. He clicked his G18 into full auto and peeked over the desk. He smiled as he stared at 4 operators. They had absolutely no clue what was going on. The closest was no more than 2 meters away. He squeezed the trigger and sprayed into the group. The Glock ate the ammo in less than 5 seconds but the proximity of his targets ensured he had hit each of them and the simunition ensured that they knew they'd been hit too. A chorus of groans and yelps erupted as they fell to the floor.

Just then Tachanka peeked his head into the doorway at the other end of the room. His face turned blue as a simunition round hit him square in the faceplate. Goddamn, sniper.

From the trajectory, Luke guessed that the guy was posted on some building that provided him with a blind spot in his corner.

Luke holstered his Glock and swung his SCAR-H into his shoulder as he pushed his goggles up. He pulled his COMTAC's mic to his mouth.

"Tachanka is down. Only one left on the attacking side"

"That was absolutely fucking stupid", a voice called from the mass of prone and "dead" operators. The mass gave hmm's in agreement

Hernandez stayed silent, waiting for any hint of the sniper's approach. The other 3 had dispersed themselves among the 4 floors of the killhouse to ensure the attacking team didn't pull anything tricky but were now converged on the objective floor. The guy had about 5 more minutes to try to assault but he and Luke both knew it was a suicide mission.

So they waited. And waited. Finally, a loud alarm, identical to the one that had started the whole scenario, signaled the end of the exercise.

Luke put his rifle on safe as the mass of operators stood up with assorted groans. Doc was going to have a fresh round of patients. Each of their right sides had been painted red by simunition. Luke found all their eyes on him. He shrugged and walked out and down the outside stairwell.

At the bottom, Thatcher, the unofficial head of training, stood alongside a very dejected looking operator with a beefy looking SVD, whom Luke hadn't met. Thatcher stepped forward as the 10 operators formed a school circle around him.

"I expect you all to do a more in-depth team debrief so I'll keep it short. Zofia, your plan was ballsy and daring, and it should have worked. Should. However, having your vision obscured with all your group in a fatal funnel was what killed you. Defending team, your strategy was outstanding but you need a better way to deal with that sniper. In real life, there are no time limits. Bloody cunt would've picked off your arses one at a time."

The team debrief was a rather boring affair considering the course of events, but, Tachanka kept it short.

By the time Luke made it back to his room, it was already 11:00. He pulled apart his rifle and laid it's parts on his desk as he searched for his cleaning kit. However, a sharp knock on the door interrupted his search.

He opened the door and found Meghan Castellano standing in front of him staring at a clipboard.

"We just got your stuff from Pope Field. It's down in the mailroom. I need you to sign for it"

She handed him the clipboard and a pen. He quickly scribbled his signature and nodded.

"You know, you gotta speak some time right"

Luke gave her a grin and set off to the mailroom. He turned into the room and found his pitiful belongings sitting there. 3 boxes of personal items and two guitar cases. Neither had seen the light of day in almost half a year.

He grabbed the boxes first and walked them to his room. Now the guitars. He really didn't feel like a conversation, so he needed to be sneaky. He grabbed the two guitars and looked out into the hallway. After ensuring it was clear he snuck his way up the stairs. The hallway was clear.

Home free.

"A man of many talents, what are you a card shark too?", a voice called with a Texan twang.

Fuck

Luke had completely overlooked the small nook that they used as a lounge on this floor. He turned and found Jordan Trace dealing out cards to Jack Estrada and Miles Campbell. Trace hadn't looked too happy after this morning.

"You play those things?", he continued

"Not anymore"

"You have two, and you don't play em?"

"Long story"

Luke turned to leave but Trace pressed on.

"You ain't much of a talker. You know communication is key right?"

Luke nodded. Trace was playing at something, but, Luke couldn't tell what it was.

"You need anything?"

"I just wanted to see you play. We don't get too many musically inclined people around here. Plus, you gotta at least know some country"

Luke detected a hint of sarcasm but also curiosity in his tone. Truthfully, Luke had memorized so many country lyrics that he could play about 80 songs from memory, but, the hard truth was playing brought to many memories back. So he deflected it.

"Maybe another time"

Trace nodded and turned back to the cards. Luke continued on to his room. Slowly he laid the cases on the bed. The first case was a dark leather and in truth wasn't Luke's. He wasn't going to take it out of its case, let alone play it. He stared at the embossed C.M. on the top of it. The many nights of smoky base bars and clubs had taken its toll on the finer details, but, it was still looked the exact same as the day Charlie had bought it for 45 dollars after a lengthy argument with Luke over how quickly it was gonna break.

I don't understand how this shit is still together.

Mike looked at the floor searching for the words to describe the morning's training exercise.

"A total and complete embarrassment of the attacking team"

Six grinned. Her intuition on Hernandez was right, and to be frank, she had found the helmet camera footage hilarious. Mike sat across running his fingers through his graying hair.

"Kid has talent. But, his gadget has a lot of moving parts. It's not exactly foolproof. One of my grenades and it evens the playing field."

"Well, Mike, we have to hope that the enemy isn't pouring millions into micro-nuclear physics."

Mike grinned and shook his head. Maybe he did have technophobia. Even for his crutch, the kid did well. Not many people in the world could kill 4 highly trained operators with an oversized smoke grenade and a handgun. Baker sighed and stood up.

"Anything else, Six"

"Actually, yes. We have an arctic training mission in Siberia coming down the pipeline. I need you to choose 8."

"Any preferences ma'am?"

"I'd like to see a Timur and Maxim, then anyone else. I'll need the list by the end of the week."

"They're gonna have a hell of a bloody time freezing their arses off"

Eliza Cohen hobbled into the rec room, barefoot and in an oversized IDF sweatshirt. Her sides felt like they'd been hit by a truck, which was an accurate description of what happened, but her growling stomach had forced a food run. As usual, by midday, the room was packed with operators, passing time in stupid ways. Craig and Alexsandr were arm wrestling, Craig struggling as the Russian let out a hearty laugh, while Zofia yelled at her husband over Skype for putting a onesie on their son wrong. Just a typical day in Rainbow.

Slowly, she made her way over to one of the fridges lining the back wall of the room and began searching for a reheatable meal that wasn't worse than dog food. She finally settled on lamb with rice and popped it in the microwave. A minute later, her 5-star meal of almost food was ready. She looked around and found Tina and Meghan sitting at a table, gossiping per usual. She pulled a chair back and slowly lowered herself into the seat.

"Welcome back from the dead", Meghan said.

"I swear that a car crash is less painful.", Eliza replied

"Maybe, but at least you can sit down. Remember that time when I couldn't sit for 3 days because Shuhrat wanted to experiment", Tina responded

Eliza laughed a little but the pain that followed wasn't as funny.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts just to breath", Eliza grunted. She picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of lamb, hoping the food might distract her.

"Sorry", they replied in unison, barely concealing their grins. Meghan nudged Tina who looked straight at Eliza as her face broke into a wide grin.

"So what's up with you and the new guy?"

Eliza nearly choked on her food at the question. The fit of coughing felt like knives were being pressed into her. By the time she was done dying, her face was a little less red.

"Nothing. You all are pervs.", Eliza coughed in response

"Why are we perverts if nothing going on? For nearly killing you, you looked at him with stars in your eyes", countered Meghan

"Why are you so interested in my love life?", replied Eliza

Tina spoke up, "Well, you know."

"Know what?", Eliza questioned.

A silence descended on the table. Tina immediately realized the mistake she had made. Both of them stared at Eliza with an unsure look in their eyes. Her eyes betrayed some hurt she was feeling deep down. Now Meghan had to be blunt.

"You're the only one of us who really hasn't found somebody", Meghan replied

What's that supposed to mean. What am I, lonely or weird or something?

"Sorry, I couldn't find a crazy Russian and I'm not into scissor sessions", Eliza snarled.

"Eliza, we didn't mean it like that. We just -."

"No, just leave me alone.", Ash said as she stood up with a grimace. Forgetting about her food she tried her best to storm out, with the end result being a half stumble out the door. Her mind raced as she trudged on through the corridor.

I don't need someone else to be happy. She had everything she needed. A guy was just an extra problem. Plus she didn't even like Luke. No, she didn't. He was just helping her out, that's all it was. Nothing more.

Shuhrat walked through the second floor as warm afternoon light peered through the large window at the end. He passed his room, continuing on, finally stopping at the airman's door. The day had been long and Fuze needed a drink, but per usual, nobody wanted to go with him. Something about him picking fights. But he figured the American could hold his liquor and a fight.

"Привет, Lone Star open the door"

Shuhrat waited but no response came. He tried again, adding a knock at the end of it.

Damnit, wake up. I need drinking buddy

Fuze pressed on the handle, and to his surprise, it popped open. Inside, was a meticulously cleaned room, hospital corners on the bed and combat boots aligned to the edge of the bed. It reminded Shuhrat of recruit training. A piece of notebook paper laid on the edge of the mattress. Shuhrat stepped forward and picked it up.

Went out,
Should be back before 1 AM
Craig knows my number,

L.H.

Goddamnit, I bet he's drinking without me.