Rainbow Six: November Sun

02: "HARD TIMES"

SEPTEMBER 2, 2019
HEREFORD, ENGLAND
UNCLE TOMMY'S STEAKHOUSE

Lera "Finka" Melnikova sat by herself at a table in a dark corner of the steakhouse. Dim lighting accompanied lively banter and chatter amongst the pub's patrons, and slurred shouts mixed with drunken laughter and the clinking of glasses and silverware.

It was raining outside, as it always seemed to be, and Finka gazed out at the darkness beyond the droplet-stained glass. The dull glow from the overhead lamp cast half of her face in shadow, and she found her own eyes for a fleeting moment before averting her gaze and tilting her glass of vodka to her lips.

She wondered for a moment if she found vodka too refreshing.

"Well, look who it is."

Finka turned to see Tachanka had wandered in. The bear of a man let out an obnoxious sigh as he sank into the seat across from her.

"Listen to you, Alexsandr." She smirked before downing the rest of her vodka. "Like an old man."

Alex folded his arms. "I'm not afraid to say that this seat is damned comfortable."

"Oh, so I was mistaken."

"Da."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Drink?"

"Mm."

As Alex turned and raised his arm to catch the attention of the nearest waiter, the front door to the steakhouse opened again, allowing the sound of heavy rain to flow in like an aroma. Finka turned to see her teammates, Shuhrat "Fuze" Kessikbayev and Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda, enter, and flagged them down with a wave.

Shuhrat sat across the table next to Tachanka, and Maxim slid into the seat next to Finka.

One of the waiters reached their tableside, producing a small notepad and pen with practiced efficiency. "Good evening. What can I get you?"

"Vodka," Alex replied. "Couple rounds of shots."

Finka straightened in her seat. "We'll take the bottle, actually."

Her proclamation elicited a hearty cheer from the men around her, and the waiter chuckled. "Bottle of vodka for our Russian friends." He smiled at them. "Russian Standard, like last time?"

The woman nodded.

"Very well. I'll be right back with that, and we can get you some food."

*    *    *

Nearly an hour later found the Spetsnaz foursome feasting on hearty helpings of fish and chips, bangers and mash, and chicken wings. They had obliterated most of the bottle of Russian Standard before the food had arrived, and Finka found herself beyond tipsy as she poured another shot of vodka.

Kapkan nudged her with his elbow. "Slow it down, hm?"

"Fuck off, Max."

The man laughed and raised his own shot glass. "To comrade Glazkov, who couldn't be here with us tonight because he's busy training recruits."

The others chuckled and raised their glasses. Tachanka looked to Finka, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "How about a toast from you, Lera?"

"Da," chimed Fuze. "You invited us all here, after all."

Finka's wide smile began to fade. She watched the shot glass in her fingers' grasp, her hand lingering in mid-air. The lights of the restaurant began to fade out of focus, blurring the vodka in her glass. Her head swayed with alcohol's embrace, but she knew it wasn't the source of the haze in her vision.