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Chapter 2

The last day of December

Birmingham, Great Britain (UTC+0)

31st of December 2021, 1623 hrs

It was already dark when they got to the place. Exiting the vehicle, a single snowflake fell on Thomas' nose. The afternoon was chilly, which was pretty usual for December, but luckily the temperature hadn't dropped below zero. The American sometimes missed the mild climate of his home California, although it was rare for him to complain. Especially over such dumb things as the weather. The man was actually glad that throughout his almost year-long stay in the United Kingdom he didn't often get to experience the infamous British weather.

The briefing they got on the way to Birmingham was skimpy, to put it mildly. As Ash said, the New Year's Eve party had been interrupted by a group of unknown hostage takers. The phone call from the Prime Minister of Great Britain himself surprised even Elizabeth.

"Hey, Garcia."

Thomas just rolled his eyes, hearing the Norwegian's voice. Sighing heavily, he turned his head to look at Håvard who nodded his head at the group of British soldiers standing in front of a makeshift tent. Typical dumb smile lightened up his face.

"What?" the American asked, already getting annoyed.

"Haven't we seen this guy somewhere?"

The question surprised him. He turned to look where Haugland pointed. Messy dyed hair stood out of the group. He was slightly unsure whether it was really the guy that he met some time ago, but his freckled face dispelled all doubts.

"Oh, you're right. Salisbury Plain Polygon, half a year ago. We had joint training with the SAS team, didn't we?"

"Yeah, now I remember his idiotic hair. You two lost the competition during that training." Håvard laughed

Hearing this comment, the man rolled his eyes again, letting out a single swear word in Spanish. He still remembered how Ace unfairly took advantage of them both during the training to win. There was nothing in this world that annoyed him as the Norwegian's ego. Always loud, always on his phone, always saying stupid shit.

"What? Am I wrong? Just loo-... Where are you going? Thomas?"

Ignoring his teammate, Thomas walked towards the tent.

"Hey." he laid his hand on the brit's shoulder, making him shiver. The man swore under his breath, immediately turning to face whoever touched him. "Long time, no see."

Del's look softened when their eyes met.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah. So you remember me?" He chuckled.

"How could I forget?" reciprocating a smile, the Brit shook his hand. Everything was exactly as Thomas remembered it. Cheerful green as spring tree eyes, wavy hair, and a face covered in slightly dark freckles. It seemed like he didn't mind the chilly weather at all, having his uniform's sleeves rolled up. Another thing that drew his attention was the fact that one of his patches was placed upside down. He let out a slight chuckle but decided not to tell him. At least not yet.

"Well, it's been a while. I'm glad we met again. I wish it was in better circumstances, but... yeah, it's nice to see you."

"And I'm glad that you didn't bring that stupidass Norwegian with you." Del bursted into laughter.

"Well, how do I tell you..."

"Hey buddy."

"Bloody hell." The brit's expression changed when he heard Havard's voice.

He was about to say something else, but the appearance of Captain Davies and Ash, made all conversations go quiet. Blonde-haired man in his mid-forties. Bushy eyebrows, a scarred face from acne, and a small, funny-looking mustache presented an image of a rather friendly-looking person. Del and his teammates always joked around about the soldier's facial hair looking like the virgin mustache of a junior high school student. Well, they only hoped that the Captain would never find out about it.

Del've never liked him. Captain Davies was a dick, and it seemed like he himself also knew that. His great leadership skills couldn't cover up his narcissistic nature and tendency to make the most offensive comments at every possible occasion. He didn't like Del, and Del didn't like him.

With his expressive and impulsive nature, the Brit often got into trouble. Being one of those who didn't let the Captain fuck around and disrespect his soldiers, Del got used to being punished. Did he mind it? Hell no. The satisfaction he had seeing Davies' pissed-off expression after Lawson did his punishment with a smile on his face was priceless.

"Boys, I introduce you to specialist Cohen, callsign Ash. She's the leader of the Rainbow team. We're gonna be working together today, due to the hostage crisis."

Crossed arms, red hair braided into messy tress, and a characteristic cap with FBI written on the top. Carefully eyeing each person, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We're still waiting for contact with the terrorists, but our negotiators are on standby. The number of hostages is twenty-six, all adults. The nationality or goals of the hostage takers are unknown for now. Blueprints of the whole building had already been deliver–..."

A single shot pierced the air, making everybody budge. A herd of crows flew into the air. The noise of their wings and feathers sounded almost like an announcement of death itself. The next sound that cut through the air was a loud slap. A window closed with a bang, leaving an ugly thing lying on the ground just beneath it.

"Fuck!" Her red hair fluttered in the wind. "Is that a body?!" Ash muttered. With the movement of her hand, she called two soldiers. "Go check it, but be careful, it might be an IED."

"Why in hell have they killed the hostage? They haven't stated their demands yet!" The Captain of the SAS team swore.

"What the fuck..." Del muttered under his breath, taking a quick glance at the American, who seemed as shocked as the rest of the crowd.

"They just killed a fucking hostage…"

The atmosphere in the tent got really tense. The murmur of pages being flipped from hand to hand caused a growing feeling of anxiety. It hasn't even been an hour since the incident, and everybody felt uptight as if they were waiting for condemnation.

The Captain nervously wandered around the tent, swearing under his breath. On the other hand, Rainbow's leader stood straight with a cold look. Beautiful, flawless, like a judge passing sentence- Ash tapped her finger on the table while studying the blueprints of the building.

"We split into two teams. Team One, half of the SAS soldiers, me, and three other people from Rainbow. The others- Captain Davies, the rest of his team, Thomas, and Ace. The hostages are being held in the main ballroom, right here. Team One will enter through the main lobby to clear the way out for civilians. Team Two gets in through the backdoors. You'll get there first, as a distraction. Between the ballroom and the back entrance is this hall." She pointed it out on the paper. "It's a great place for fortification. Let's hope that they'll gather there, so it will be easier for team one to get the hostages out."

"Right, the corridor is a great chokepoint. It might be hard to get through there. But we'll just take smokes and try to distract them for as long as possible."

Del stood there with crossed arms, listening to the plan. He didn't like it at all. Something in his mind told him that forced entry would make the situation worse. And the risk was not calculating. The number of terrorists was also questionable, and although it was estimated at seven, it wasn't established for sure. No contact, poor intel. But the pressure arose, and they couldn't afford to sit with their arms crossed.

"The fuckers wanted to mess with the SAS? They'll get the SAS!" Davies smashed his hand on the table.

"It's not about us..." Del said quietly, looking at the Captain. "They wanted Rainbow to see it, that's why they were waiting."

"It doesn't matter what they want. We need to get inside; they've already killed a hostage without warning. And I won't let such a thing happen aga-..." Before he could finish, the next shot flooded the area. Davies immediately ran out of the tent, tripping over his legs like an injured deer. The terror in his eyes was accompanied by the nasty sounds of two bodies slapping against the ground.

"It hasn't even been forty five minutes." he whispered, terrified.

"It means that we have less than forty five minutes to get inside, if we don't want any more casualties."

Birmingham, Great Britain (UTC+0)

31st of December 2021, 1748 hrs

The breach charge threw the door completely off the frame. Seconds later, two flash grenades landed inside the room. The loud bang was the announcement of the beginning of the raid.

"Go, go, go!" The Captain commanded.

The adrenaline kicked in Del's body. Clenching his hand on the grip of his UCIW, he moved behind his teammate. The dark figure moved in front of them, screaming something in another language. Their hand moved to the holster, but before fingers even touched the gun, the body was dropped lifelessly on the floor.

Quick footsteps and panicked screams could be heard from the room the team was moving to next, putting all soldiers on high alert. The brit tried to recreate the blueprints of the building in his mind. He knew that in front of them a long corridor was located. The worst possible place was where they had a big chance to be stopped. That was the risk of their plan.

The terrorists didn't give them enough time to plan everything properly. They knew it was the biggest advantage they had and made use of it. The rush and tension were always the worst enemies of every raid team. It didn't matter if it was Rainbow or SAS.

"Behind you." Del patted his teammate's shoulder. The man peeked around the corner but immediately backed off, almost bumping into Lawson. A long series of shots had been fired from the other end of the corridor.

"They made a fucking fortification there!" the man muttered. "Ten meters, three or four tangos, I'm not certain."

"We'll throw a smoke and flash grenade there. Let's hope that'll buy us time to move closer and finish them." The Captain commanded.

The space between the team and the terrorists was covered in smoke. Contrary to the soldier's expectations, the stun grenade did not stop the enemy's suppressive fire.

"Shit! They pinned us down here." Davies muttered, reloading his rifle.

The edge of the wall they had been hiding behind started breaking down from the bullets. Smoke from the grenades started to clear out, but it was still hard to see anything. Thomas peeked around the corner and fired a long series toward the enemies. The voice of the captain became distant in a second. The only thing that the Brit paid attention to was a round object that landed just in front of them.

"Grenade!"

His heart stopped for a second. The whole world stopped just for this moment. Del's pupils narrowed upon seeing the grenade that rolled in front of them. In front of the whole SAS team. In front of him. In front of Thomas. He knew that from that distance, the blast would at least rip his body apart. How far was the terrorists' position? The Captain screamed something, but the brit didn't pay attention.

His hand had already been clenching on the grenade. Surprisingly hot metal burned the tips of his fingers. It reminded him of the feeling of fire licking his back. So similar, yet so different. Using all the strength he had, he threw the explosive back from where it came.

The time got back to normal, just to hit him with the wave of heat a second later. The explosion shook the building, making the plaster on the ceiling crack. Although the grenade went off on the other side of the room, the blast pushed him away.

"Fuck..." he muttered, trying to get himself up. Instead, he felt a strong grip on his arm. Somebody pulled him, making the man grunt.

"Man down!"

"Del, are you alright?!" Thomas held him by his shoulders, trying to bring him back to consciousness.

"Stop fucking shaking me." He swore, rubbing his face. A feeling of blood running down his temple wasn't the most pleasant experience.

"Are you alright?" The American tried to help him stand up, but Lawson just slid down the wall.

"Geez, I don't know." He tried to clear his mind. "Uh. I got hit by some shards, but it's just a scratch." said, wiping away the blood. He winced, accidentally touching a small piece of glass that pierced his eyebrow. The world stopped spinning, but the sound still sounded a little bit muffled.

"Clear!" The shouting from the background got his attention. He gave Thomas a questioning look.

"They pushed through the room. The grenade probably killed most of the terrorists, making the way."

"Great…" he muttered. The American gave his hand, helping him to stand up.

A few last shots were fired from another part of the building. The creaking voice on their radios announcing that all of the hostage takers were KIA was like a cold breeze on a summer day. Immediately, this heart began to slow down. It was over.

"Good job, kid." Davies, patted his shoulder.

A small cloud of steam was let out from Del's mouth. His arms were covered in goosebumps. He wasn't sure whether it was due to the cold or the adrenaline that was coming off him right at this moment. Looking at the building from outside, it looked so calm and beautiful. Like a perfect place to spend New Year's Eve. The Brit wondered how many people had no idea about the bloodbath that just happened right under their noses and were enjoying themselves. Drinking, having fun. The blood mark left at the place where the first body was dropped, filled him with anger. He didn't understand who the terrorists were. Why did they do that? No demands, no contact. Just killing, as if the animal-like rage took over their bodies. Or maybe it was a provocation?

Even now, the Captain's words felt filled with irony and disrespect. Del rolled his eyes, answering some typical bullshit. The anger was buzzing inside of him.

"Good fucking job, you fucker." he kept swearing in his mind. "Three innocent people died, you asshole. Good job." clenching his fists so hard that it started to hurt.

A hand on his shoulder made him shiver. Again. He immediately turned, with pure vexation on his face. The frustration was like a torture, filling his eyes with tears.

He hated it. Being upset always drove him over the edge, screaming, crying. Nothing was so hard to express as anger. The anger that he suppressed for years, the anger that burned him from the inside like a disease. But the touch brought him back from this hell.

"Is everything alright?"

The American's voice felt so calm, making the bad mood go away with the snap of fingers. His dark brown eyes seem worried and tired.

"More or less."

"You should see a medic."

"I am a medic, Thomas."

Both men bursted into laughter. The poor joke broke the tension that was left, making Del smile. He has silently admired the American, ever since they met.

"Anyways, I wanted to say that Davis may be a jerk, but he is right. If you wouldn't throw the grenade back, we wouldn't be standing here. So I owe you." the American said in a low voice, giving him a warm smile.

"Oh, is that some kind of offer?"

"Maybe?" A slight smirk appeared on Thomas' face.

"Well, I'll think about it."

Birmingham, Great Britain (UTC+0)

31st of December 2021, 2034 hrs

The building felt awfully quiet. The smell of blood, smoke, and gunpowder surfeit the air. A real battlefield, with blood marks on the walls, floors, and ceilings. Pieces of shattered glass laid around almost every room, making loud, crackling sounds whenever somebody walked through there.

"It was a massacre." Thomas sighed, looking around the main room. Almost all of the dead bodies of the hostage-takers had already been packed into the black bags. His glance shifted at Del, who had been checking one of the corpses. In focus, the man examined the equipment. The Brit's eyebrow had been patched up by paramedics, and it seemed like he was feeling more or less alright, despite his worried and tense expression.

Thomas still couldn't get the image of the grenade rolling straight in front of them out of his mind. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened if not for Lawson's quick reaction. Their eyes met, making the American realize that he was staring at him like an idiot.

"They murdered three hostages, without any warning. Why didn't they state their demands? It doesn't make sense." Captain Davies muttered.

"That can't mean anything good." Ash shook her head, kneeling next to the blood trail on the floor. "It was a suicide attack. And the most important- they started it as soon as Rainbow appeared at the scene."

The British soldier squinted his eyes, looking at something that was lying down on the ground. Black bottle like shape, covered with yellow tape. He gently picked up the thing, turning it around. Cold metal with a smooth texture reminded him somehow about the material from which gas cylinders were made. Weighting it in his hand, he could tell that the container was filled with something, but it wasn't heavy, contrary to how it looked.

"What is this?" Ace snapped him out of his thoughts. The man shrugged, carefully watching the top of the bottle. It took him a second to understand what it was.

"Looks like a homemade gas bomb. Here is the cotter, the trigger lever. The tape is probably there to make sure that it'll stay sealed until the detonation."

Ash stood up rapidly, approaching them. Her red braided hair, like a sea wave, swung on her shoulder. Her eyes looked more shocked and concerned than just a few minutes earlier. Without a word, Elizabeth stretched her hand to Del, who hesitantly gave her the thing. She remained quiet, examining the grenade.

"I've seen a bomb like this." she said, breaking the silence after a moment.

"What? Where?

"Bartlett University."

Her face got pale as never before. Till this day, Thomas thought that his leader, Elizabeth Cohen, was fearless. But her eyes expressed fear, which he had never seen.

"White Masks? I thought that they were kinda historic." Captain Davies commented, crossing his arms.

"A few months ago, our two operators, Finka and Jackal discovered in Iraq that Hezbollah started supplying them. Rainbow shut down two cells, and we thought it was over. But now…" She shook her head.

"Aren't they too advanced for White Masks? They're using the newest models of weapons." Del squatted, taking a bullet from the floor.

"This…" Cohen looked at the bomb she was still holding. "This is enough to put them on the list of suspects. If we're right and that's a warning from the White Masks... We'll need all hands on deck." Ash turned her head to look at the British soldier.

Del clenched his fists, holding a bullet with the letters QCR grooved on its smooth metal surface.