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Chapter 5

The beginning of the end

Wrocław, Poland (UTC+1)

15th of February 2023, 0134 hrs

A beep of the microwave announced that the popcorn was ready.

"Alright, I'll get it." Kajetan said, trying to take the blanket off his legs.

"Don't bother, I'll go and bring it." Skowron lazily stood up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen.

"But dad, one more!"

"Alright, but that's the last movie today, Marcel. It's really, really late." The Pole could hear Kajetan talking to his son.

He took a quick glance at his friend. Although it's been over a year since the man left the military, he still looked like an elite soldier. Perfectly short and even hair, strongly defined eyebrows with a serious stare, which now had slightly softened, as he patted his son's head.

Kneeling on the floor, Artyom reached for a bowl, taking it out from the drawer. Opening the microwave he held the popcorn's package, trying to rip it open.

"Still awake?" a familiar voice made him look up. Kajetan's wife was standing on the staircase, her blond hair tied up in the messy bun gently falling on her face, illuminated by dim lights.

"Oh… sorry, did we wake you up?"

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. Coming down to the room, she took out a glass, filling it with water.

"Nope. I was doing some paperwork anyways. Just checking on you, boys." Kasia smiled, leaning on the counter. "You remember that you promised to take Marcel to the theme park tomorrow, right? He had been waiting for this ever since he heard that you're coming."

"Yes, yes, obviously I remember." Artyom laughed, taking the bowl. "My word is a promise. Now, excuse me, I have the eatables for our soldiers. Wanna join us in watching another James Bond movie? It's the third in a row."

"Oh, c'mon. I've told Kajtek not to show it to him. Marcel is too young for such violent movies." she complained, crossing her arms.

"Kasiaaa… He's turning nine soon, he ain't a newborn anymore." he smiled, getting back to the living room. The mother shook her head, giving a disappointed look to her husband, before heading back upstairs.

"So, uncle Artem, how long are you staying in Poland?"

"I'm not sure, kid. I planned to stay here at least until the end of your winter break. So till the end of February I would say."

The kid nodded his head, climbing up to the man's lap. Artyom smiled, wrapping his arm around his friend's son. He loved the boy. Almost like his own kid.

Him and Kajetan were not siblings, but it never was an obstacle to call Marcel his nephew. And obviously, he admired hearing the words "uncle Artem" more than any other thing in this world.

"So, ready to watch the movie?" Kajetan asked.

The soldier smiled, giving the man a thumb up. The movie intro started with a well known song, "No time to die". Skowron has never been a big fan of Billie Eilish, but he couldn't lie, those lyrics hit slightly too close to home.

The sound of his ringtone pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Nooo…" Artyom rolled his eyes. "I'm so sorry Marcel, you gotta get off me. I need to answer that." he sighed, as the boy got off his lap. The phone kept vibrating in his pocket as he walked out of the living room. The soldier's expression changed when he saw the name of the contact. It couldn't mean anything good.

His finger moved swiftly through the screen, answering the call. Putting the phone to his ear, he leaned back on the counter, taking a glance at the family waiting for him.

"Specialist Skowron."

"Harry is dead."

The voice on the other side seemed washed off from emotions. No fear, no anger, no sorrow. Plain, steady sound, almost mechanical. Nothing like usual Kateb's voice.

"What?"

Artyom heard it clearly, but it felt so surreal that the question was asked automatically.

"Director Harishva Pandey had been murdered. All Rainbow's operators are ordered to arrive as soon as possible at main quarters in Hereford, United Kingdom."

"Doc, what the fuck?"

"What you fucking heard, Licho." Man snapped. It made him sound at least a little bit human. "Harry… Harry is dead. We checked the body, one shot to the chest. No chance for-..."

"Kurwa mać."

He didn't hear the rest of the sentence. His heart was painfully pounding in his chest. He just kept whispering swear words, trying to process what he had heard seconds ago.

How could this happen? Harry? Their Harry? Obviously it was this Harry, his name and surname was said. Fucking Christ, Harry was fucking dead. The same person with whom he had spent so many evenings talking about his kid and wife. The words expressing how much he cared about them were playing on the loop in Artyom's mind, painfully making him realize that all of that was now gone.

The sound of the wheelchair rolling into the room snapped him from this weird state of denial. Kajetan stared at him, visibly hesitating whether he should say something. His expression reminded Artyom about the fear. The same fear he had been feeling over a year ago, seeing his friend in the pool of blood on the floor of EMAR lab.

"Hey, Artem, buddy, are you alright…?" Kajetan's sight was full of worries, as he looked at his friend.

"Get me a plane. I'll be ready in half an hour. Have you called Zofia?" The man continued the talk, ignoring Kajetan.

"Zofia was with the Redhammer team. She's injured."

"But stable?"

"Yes, she'll be alright. Can't say the same thing about Ash and Thermite." Kateb sighed.

"What happe-... or nevermind. I'll be in Hereford in a few hours." He hung up, not waiting for the answer. It felt like an elephant sat on his chest. Breaking his ribs, making it hard to breathe. The pressure flooded his body.

"I gotta go." Skowron said dispassionately.

"What happened?"

No answer came. The man stared lifelessly at the floor, clenching his fists.

"Artem, pal. What's going on?"

"Rainbow's director has been murdered." he muttered. Leaning back on the kitchen counter, he hid face in his hands. Letting out a long, filled with sorrows sigh, he said a few more swear words under his breath. This wasn't how he imagined his leave to look like.

"Murdered? Are they sure?"

"They called all the soldiers to arrive at the HQ."

"Damn it. This one death will cause pure chaos on the international stage. Team Rainbow is in deep shit now…"

"Don't say a word." the Pole hissed through his teeth. His eyes welled up with tears. Kajetan stretched his hand towards his friend, laying it hesitantly on the soldier's forearm.

A moment of silence between the men was interrupted by calling from the living room.

"So you're leaving…? Now?"

"Yes. But I need to fucking smoke first." Artyom muttered, taking out a lighter. The same lighter that Harry gave him during their first meeting.

Hereford, Great Britain (UTC+0)

14th of February 2023, 2137 hrs

"Hey, Léja!"

The swish of plastic package cut through the air, as the object landed right at the Lithuanian's face. A scream preceded by a few curses escaped her lips as she rubbed her nose.

"Oy, you idiot!"

Dvasia frowned, looking at Del who threw something at her. As always, the Brit seemed really satisfied with the reaction. He loved to annoy people around him and so did Léja. But annoying her was something completely different. A line that shouldn't be crossed.

"Mate, it's not my fault that you didn't catch it." Del shrugged, taking a seat next to Thomas. The American watched the whole scene chuckling.

"Fucking Brits… We've been waiting for ten minutes for your stupid ass to come here" the woman muttered.

"Ehhh, I've told you, movie nights are not my thing."

"Oh, so you suggest that I should spend Valentine's evening with your boyfriend? Damn Thomas, I really feel sorry for you for being with such an asshole." She rolled her eyes, even more annoyed than earlier, but her expression changed as soon as she noticed what she was holding in her hands. "Oh. My. Goodness. Is this what I think it is?"

"Hell yes." Lawson stretched his legs out, resting his head on Thomas's shoulder. "I forgot where I put it, that's why it took me so long."

Léja giggled like a child, giddily wiggling her feet as she ripped the package open.

"What's that?" Garcia raised his eyebrows, looking visibly confused at his teammates.

"Žagarėliai!"

"What?"

"This is the best thing you can ever eat. C'mon, try it!" she stood up from the couch, giving the American the package.

"I'm surprised that you're actually willing to share any of those." Del chuckled.

"Shut up and maybe I'll give you some." she gave him a death stare, sitting back on an armchair.

The sound of the notifications interrupted the conversation unexpectedly. Thomas's eyes went down to his pocket, where his phone vibrated.

"Grace is playing with her toys again?" Léja frowned while holding her phone. "Unknown number sending a link..."

"Same here… Maybe it's a coincidence?" The American shrugged, as they both looked at Del.

"What?"

"Check your phone."

Lawson rolled his eyes, but also checked the notifications.

"Oh, I got something. Though my phone is muted."
"Obviously it's muted, you never answer the calls. What did you ge-... for fuck's sake, you idiot, why did you click on it?! It might be a virus!" the woman tried to take away his device, muttering under her breath. "Great, now I'll have to disconnect it from the cloud, in case you let something in…"
But the Brit ignored her. Staring at the screen with a weird expression painted on his face. It seemed like he didn't understand what and why was going on.

"It's a stream. I guess at least."

Now, both Léja and Thomas were invested into blankly glancing at the video playing on the man's phone. The scenery looked unfamiliar, but it might have been caused by the bad quality of the stream. First thing that came to the Lithuanian's mind was a CCTV camera, the one that was the most commonly used in the center malls.

"Is this Redhammer team?" Thomas asked, but got immediately shushed.

Del squinted his eyes, trying to identify the silhouettes moving across the scene. That was indeed team Redhammer. Nothing was more distinctive than an Ash's FBI hat.

It took him a while to realize that the operation of retrieving Nighthaven's weapons was taking place right at this moment. And now they were watching it on their screen. From an unknown source. That was one of the things that caused a shiver to go down his spine.

The other thing was Thermite and Ash's reaction. No sound made it quite hard to tell what exactly was happening, but the moment when all operators took off from the ground and began to run like prey pursued by hunting dogs, the Brit knew. He knew that something went wrong.

As the blast flooded the area, the screen went black. Bright letters forming into "Connection lost", reflected in Del's wide open eyes.

"Holy fuck! Holy fuck!" Léja jumped off the couch, staring at the two men in shock. "No fucking way! It has to be a deep fake or something like this. No fucking way that it really happened!" she screamed. "Am I right?! Am I fucking right?!"
Her voice broke as she tried to get an answer. But it hasn't come. Both Thomas and Del were quiet. Lawson didn't even raise his glare from the screen. The face of the Brit was pale as never before. Even his eyes seemed to suddenly turn dark from the usual vivid green.

"Say something, for fuck's sake!"

"Ay dios mío…" the American whispered, leaning back on the couch. "I don't know… Damn it, what are we supposed to do?"

"Call Harry. Call Harry right now." Del muttered, rubbing his face. He felt sick and his body was shaking. He couldn't concentrate on anything aside from the image of the bomb going off right next to his teammates. Were they dead?

The thoughts jammed the sound of the fast steps coming from the corridor. The person stormed into the rec room, leaning on the door frame. The three friends raised their heads looking at the older SAS soldier.

"We have a situation." Mike growled. "Gather your stuff. Now."

"Does Harry know?"

"Harry is not picking the phone. That's why we are going to Oxford. Right fucking now."

Oxford, Great Britain (UTC+0)

14th of February 2023, 2341 hrs

The moon shone proudly, illuminating a group of four people. Standing silently in front of the terrace door, they were waiting. For what exactly? Probably none of them knew. All staring at each other too frightened to make a move. Too frightened to even touch the handle.

They had arrived in Oxford just a few minutes ago. With a field reconnaissance, they discovered that the only entrance to the building left open was the terrace door. Exactly the one that they were standing in front of.

The three operators were waiting in suspense for the oldest soldier to move, to do something. But for the last minute Mike was just standing behind them, as if he himself wasn't really sure what they were supposed to do.

Harry did not pick up the phone. Neither when they called him in Hereford nor on their way to Oxford. The radio silence was making Del sick from the tension. He really hated moments like this. Not knowing what was going around him was the most cruel torture that could ever be used against him.

"Crippling Jesus, kids." Thacher nudged Del aside, pushing the door wide open. Although the old Brit's voice didn't waver, his hand betrayed him. Shaking slightly, almost unnoticeable, but enough to express the fear flowing through his veins.

Mike got inside. Quickly and precisely, he stepped over the threshold, not making a single rustle. That's why Del always admired him. Baker might have been a dick, but the operator's skills made up for that. The living definition of a perfect soldier. No wonder why he was the first person chosen to join Team Rainbow.

Bumping into Thatcher's back woke Del from this mechanical state he had been in. Realizing that he was standing in the middle of Harry's office, he looked around.

"Bloody hell…" the older SAS soldier whispered.

The room was quite dark, despite the bright moon shining in the sky. The thing that hit him almost immediately was the smell. Metallic, well known to the medic. His pupils narrowed, heart skipping a beat. Thatcher's flashlight illuminated the person sitting behind the desk. With the glasses having slightly slid down the Director's nose, it seemed as if he had fallen asleep. But the maroon stain on the familiar gray t-shirt indicated something else…

In two steps, the younger Brit got to the chair. Pulling the body down, placing it on the floor and pushing the wound. Del's whimper sounded like a dog that's been kicked as his voice filled the room..

"Harry, Harry, wake up, no, no, don't do that to me…" Lawson cried out, trying to bring Six back to consciousness.

Thomas and Léja stood there in complete shock, not being able to move. The American felt as if the invisible force kept him in place, stopping all the possible actions. For a brief moment he forgot to breathe, when a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Call an ambulance, do something! Fucking do something! Mike, call a fucking ambulance!" Del's voice broke, as he tried to make chest compressions. Sniffing, he pushed and pushed. The movement was getting weaker, to the point where his elbows bent. The man gave up, laying his head on the cold, motionless chest.

Why? Why was it happening? A sudden shudder shook Thomas' body, allowing him to finally break through the non-existent barrier and take a step forward. On soft legs, the American approached his boyfriend, kneeling next to him. Garcia was feeling distant, as if it was just his body being here. The mind went completely blank, refusing to process the whole situation. Gently placing hand on Del's shoulder, he whispered.

"Del… He's dead." his hand clenched on the man's shirt, pulling him away from the body. "It's over…"

Was it really over?

"No… It can't be…" the Brit mumbled, trying to fight.

"I'm sorry, darling… He's gone." The words coming out from Thomas' mouth sounded weird. It felt like another person was speaking. A complete stranger.

"No, no, no! Fuck no!" Del pushed the American away, rapidly standing up. He took a step back, then again dropped to his knees shaking the dead body. "Wake the fuck up Harry! Stop fucking messing with us!"

His voice expressed the most sincere and painful fear that human being could imagine. Breaking at every word spit out of the Brit's mouth. The glasses fell to the floor, but it didn't stop the man from continuing to shake the body.

Mike swore, pulling Lawson up by the collar of his jacket. It took him a while to act but right now, the emotions had taken over him. "Fucking hell, pull your shit together, solider!"

Losing his balance, Del hit his back against the glass door of the cupboard. Sound of shattering glass was almost deafening. The sharp shards scratched his hands, but the man couldn't care less. The burning in his chest gained strength with every single heartbeat, lungs being crushed more and more painfully by the ribs.

The older SAS soldier pushed him harder against the furniture, looking like he was ready to murder Lawson here and now. His nostrils narrowed and widened with each breath, like a rabid dog, which had just caught his prey.

"Mike, stop it, for God's sake!" Thomas reached out, trying to separate the older man from his lover.

"He's dead! He had been dead even before we got here! He is fucking dead, Lawson!" Still holding the collar, staring at terrified Del, his look started softening. "Director Harishva Pandey is dead." Mike whispered, taking a step back.

Del slided down to the ground still sobbing. He gave up, hiding his face between his knees. The silence that arose around was worse than the screams themselves. It felt like death itself sat with them in the room, watching this whole miserable scene.

The silence was broken by Léja's sobbing. The three men turned to look at her. She had been quiet since they left the HQ, creeping behind them like a shadow. Nobody noticed her, just as if she was a ghost. The Lithuanian headed towards the exit, staggering from left to right, as if she was going to faint any second.

Was it her fault? A thousand thoughts were swirling in her head as she tried to make her way out of the room. She felt guilty in every possible way. With another step she was close to just collapsing on the floor, curling up like a scared little kid.
What will Bruno say? It was because of her why he argued with Harry in the first place. Bruno… she couldn't even imagine how he would feel when he found out. Ever since their last argument they barely spoke to each other and Léja knew that Bruno was too proud to apologize first. It was the Czech's curse now taking its toll. Harry was gone. Gone forever.

After taking the first step outside, she dropped to her knees. Tears going down her cheeks, shining gently in the bright light of the moon.

Oxford, Great Britain (UTC+0)

14th of February 2023, 2341 hrs

Flickering red and blue lights illuminated the area. Another vehicle had just stopped in front of the building, as the police officers gathered up, securing the main door with yellow tape.

"I'll need to see all of your licenses for carrying a sidearm."

"We are counterterrorists." Mike pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"I know but those are the procedures. Could you ask your teammates to come over here when they'll be finished with the paramedics? I need their statements." the police officer turned the page in his notebook, handing the ID card back to the Brit.

"Leave the kids alone. They won't make statements, not right now. I can bring all the documents you need so you can write them down, but for the love of God, don't make them talk about it." Thatcher sighed heavily.

"I understand your concerns, sir, but I need those statements."

The SAS soldier muttered something under his breath. He was ready to punch the man straight in the face, but it wouldn't change anything. They had enough troubles for now anyways. Turning around on his heel, he headed towards the rest of the soldiers.

The paramedic was finishing patching up Lawson's hand. The most accurate word that could describe the Brit's current state was pure despair. Compulsively clenching his not injured hand on his trousers, almost like he was ready to rip the material apart.

On the other hand, Garcia sitting next to him seemed absent. Glancing at the ambulance's floor with a blank stare, he stayed still.

Thatcher looked around, trying to find Léja. It took them a while to calm her down. Being honest, if not for the tranquilizers she still would be crying and screaming in panic on the ground. At the first second, the man was too shocked to react. That was the first time he saw anybody in such a state.

Still standing in Harry's office, looking at Thomas and Del struggling to hold the Lithuanian, Mike had this feeling as if he was dreaming. Oh dear God, he would have given anything at that moment for this situation to be a nightmare. He never wanted anything in his life than to be able to wake up in his own bed, covered in sweat, screaming at the top of his lungs.

But unfortunately for him, it wasn't a dream. Six's lifeless body was still lying next to him, Dvasia was still yelling, and he was still unable to make a move.

"Mike, we need to get back to Hereford." Léja said in a low tone. Her red eyes with dark circles underneath them, stared at the SAS soldier expectantly.

He winced, hearing her voice. She seemed to appear from nowhere, just like a ghost. Now, the Lithuanian stared at him, waiting for an answer. Baker opened his mouth, but hesitated for a second. He knew they had to go back to headquarters, but the police officer was still waiting right behind him, to start questioning the operator.

"I know. As soon as they let us go, we are regrouping. I've already called Doc and Neptune about the situation. Wolfguard is already securing the Redhammer and Ghosteye's operation site. Thermotouch will arrive in HQ as soon as possible."

The Lithuanian nodded her head hesitantly. It seemed like her body was still shaking from the emotions. The usual cheeky and frolicsome facial expression was long gone.

Mike thought he was a tough guy. He thought that he could cope with another death just as fine as he did the last time. But at that moment something has broken in Baker's heart. Without a word, he pulled the woman in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around the slim and shivering body, he let out a sigh filled with sorrow.

The Brit rested his head on Leja's shoulder, gently patting her back. He really wished he could say "everything's gonna be fine" and all that shit, but the last thing that he should have done at this moment was lie. Dvasia sniffed, clenching hands on Thatcher's jacket.

"Why Harry…? He didn't deserve that." her voice broke, as she tried to stop herself from bursting into tears again.

"I know, I know. We'll find whoever did that. I'll make them regret it." Mike whispered.

At the same time the officer approached Del and Thomas. Tapping his pen on the notebook, he cleared his throat and tried to start the conversation.

"So, what happened here?"

"The other team's operation got compromised. We called the director. He didn't answer, so we came here… that's more or less the story." The American spoke up, not shifting his glance.

"It's the middle of the night, it's quite normal that people are asleep at that hour."

"Six always answered the phone. No matter what hour or time zone we were at." Thomas rubbed his hands together. "We just connected the dots. Something bad happened to the other team and the Director is not answering, so probably something bad happened also to him."

"You came here, broke into the hou-..."

"The terrace's door was open. That's probably how the shooter got inside."

"Okay, so you came into the building, found the body on the floor-..."
"No, it was on the chair, but we tried to provide first aid."

"What about the broken glass in the office?"

Thomas sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "Del panicked and started to squirm around with Thatcher. They hit the cupboard, breaking the glass…"

"So there are no signs of resistance from the victim's side. Any ideas why?"

"No."

The policeman carefully scrutinized the American, not stopping making the notes. He tapped his pen once again on the paper, raising his eyebrows.

"Why did you bring your weapons?"

"For fuck's sake, we work for military, we always carry a sidearm, that's a force of habit." Del spoke up, tucking strands of hair behind his ear, uncovering the sorrowful expression on his face.

"Well, then you'll have to get used to not having them around for some time. We secured the guns and we'll send them for the ballistic testing."

"Que? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Thomas' raised voice, dragged Léja's and Mike's attention. "Are you saying that we are suspected?"

"That's just the procedures, sir. Please remain calm."

"¡Vete a la mierda!"

"What the fuck?!" Mike cursed, turning to the policeman.

"Like I said, please remain calm. There is also one more thing I would like to ask you…" the man pulled out something out of his pocket. A dictaphone enclosed in a transparent foil. Not taking it out of the package, the officer gently turned it on and pressed another button, starting a recording.

"You know… Rainbow used to be feared in my time. The cover unit of apex killers and you turned it into fucking Ice Capades. You disgraced my unit, Harry."

"It's their unit now… and the disgrace is yours, Deimos."

"What comes next is the squads falling one by one. Every operator dies. I guess, I wanted to thank you for making it so easy for us."

"My job was never to lead the Rainbow. Rather to help them lead themselves… Now, if you don't mind, I happen to find you exceedingly fucking boring."

The man stopped the recording, right after the shot pierced the air. Looking expectantly at the operators, he spoke up. "And now, my question is- who the hell is Deimos?"

Unknown location

15th of February 2023, 0354 hrs

The steady sound of the plane engine worked like a charm for the man's tired body. He loved the constant hum in the background. It allowed him to relax all the tensed muscles.

Slowly reaching out to his bag, he sighed. The cold surface of the revolver felt somehow uncomfortable on his skin. Weighting the gun in his hand, he took out the remaining four bullets that were left in the revolver's drum. The lights on the plane were dimmed, allowing him to see the view from the outside of the plane.

The night was truly perfect to watch all the cities they passed. Even the biggest metropolis seemed so innocently tiny from this perspective. It made the man feel like a king of the whole world. Not even a single cloud interfered with his admiration of the view.

Turning the bullet in his hand, he smiled, feeling the letters QCR grooved on its smooth surface.

"That's an irony." he chuckled. "Getting killed by a bullet made by your ally. Can we count it as a friendly fire?"

His glare shifted from the window at the other man sitting on the seat opposite to his. The man crossed his arms, shaking his head.

"Well, I doubt. Nighthaven is not friendly anymore. At least not from Team Rainbow's perspective. We did them dirty, I bet Pandey thought till the last moment that they were responsible all the way along."

"It's always about perspective, isn't it?" putting the gun down, the man took off his mask. "Harry was incredibly stupid from the beginning. But I won't complain. He made the work much easier for me by dividing Rainbow. Anyways… the fun has just started. Are the White Masks ready for tomorrow's strike?"

"Yes, Deimos, everything is ready. Just like you have planned." the man nodded his head.

"And that's the answer I wanted to hear." A weird smirk appeared on his face, as he stood up. "Tomorrow the world will see the fall of Team Rainbow. But first, I have to take a piss."

Author's notes

Well, that hurts. I'm glad we're over this part XD

So we ballin' I would say?

Song inspiration: "Romantic homocide" by d4vd, "Daylight" by David Kushner, "Nothing's fair in love and war" by Three Days Grace