Scorned (Rainbow Six Siege Fanfiction)

Until It's Over

"Kámá." Arkady addresses the frantic woman, making her stop completely to look back to the man. He was resting against her beaten black shield, left long untouched now. "You need this."

"How..." Ritual asks shakily. She rises to her feet and takes a step up to him, resting her hand on it beside his. "How did you-"

"He's sending you a message." He warns, reaching out and caressing her helmet.

"It's time for me to send mine." Ritual nods and lifts her weighted shield, pulling out her phone and dialing a number she knew by heart. The man answers nearly immediately.

"Kámámê?" The familiar voice would have warmed her if it weren't for the circumstances. She rushes to her garage, grasping her keys along the way, and yanks the cover from the motorcycle to reveal its black and red paint.

"Able..." She breathes his name and leans on it for a moment, continuing to tap at her phone. "I sent you the brief. The three Germans and the two French men; How fast do you think you could find and bring them to Moscow?"

"You don't want Gunnar?" He asks curiously, yet cautiously. Ritual seems stricken by the question.

"I do..." She finds the words caught in her throat, gently placing her fingers to it. "But Oscar would do anything to lure him here. I don't want to put him danger again."

"Ritual, he chose you knowing that he would be in danger. He would want to be here with you so you two can finish this..." Able insists, "Together."

"I know." The woman swallows her fears, closing her eyes for a moment and resting her head against the wall.

"I'd be flying halfway across the world, but if you give me the clearance, I can make it by tonight. Just say the word." Able calmly awaits her order.

"Forget the formality. Go get them... Go get him." She affirms and starts her motorcycle, enjoying the purr that followed the roar. She tears through the streets of her quiet neighborhood.

"Hey!" Another familiar voice patches through her headset and a flash of red catches her eye. She glances to her right to see a man clad in black, starkly contrasting the motorcycle that matched hers.

"Vyacheslav!" She exclaims, setting the pace to ride next to him. Before she can think of what to say, she notices his long, clear shield stowed on his back.

"I heard you needed me." He nods to her, ducking into an exit with her following closely. "Where are we headed?"

"To find Shuhrat!" She answers, weaving in-between the lanes of traffic like wind between skyscrapers. "Brief him and meet me at the Mirage."

"Copy that. We'll see you soon." He nods firmly and ducks into another lane, vanishing among the cars. The ride from here was short, silent, her heart racing faster than she could drive. Over the edge of the tallest buildings in Moscow, she can see the hotel, closing the distance and riding to a stop in front of it.

Her eyes scan the building, which stood exactly as it had all those years ago. She could vividly see herself in the lobby, fighting through waves of white until they became red. Headlights soon beat over her dark form, reflecting off the windows, breaking her from the flashback. There was nothing there.

Turning to meet the van rolling through the alley she concealed herself in, the doors swing open and she jumps into the back to greet her comrades. The plan came, rushed, yet somehow stalling, time spent foolishly hoping that reinforcements would arrive. Within hours the table becomes littered with blueprints, weapons, and by the door remains a box of colored helmets. She looks at them with a slight stinging in her chest. She couldn't wait any longer.