Rainbow Six: November Sun

16: "HEAD START"

Director Six stood with his arms folded across his chest. He watched the embassy across the street intently, jaw clenched and eyes unblinking. He knew that the DSU troops around him were itching to get into the fight, and predictably, Lieutenant Colonel Mayes joined his side with an expectant air in his stance.

"We need to get in there."

Harry raised a dismissive hand as his earpiece crackled. "Lobby clear," came Ash's voice.

"The hostages?"

"I'm not seeing any friendly casualties, Harry, but there's so many in here that we could be missing something. Doc's assessing but we could use extra hands for a sweep. Nøkk took one of them alive."

Harry turned and flashed Maes a thumbs-up before pointing to the embassy. "Lobby is clear," he informed the DSU commander. "My team is asking for assistance in a sweep of the building and hostage evac."

Lt. Col. Maes nodded and immediately began radio call-outs to his company. DSU operators swung into action, their squads splitting to take pre-planned infiltration routes of the Russian Embassy.

"Well done," Harry said with a smile. "Sledge, I want Team 2 to break off and assist at the bank. Coordinate with DSU. They'll be ready for you. Team 1, remain and secure the embassy."

"Roger that," came Ash.

"Sir," Sledge answered. "Team 2 is moving."

Amidst the quiet buzz of the Rainbow helicopter slowly circling above the mission site, Harry and Maes sounded off orders, carefully coordinating their units' movements as DSU teams entered the embassy to join Rainbow Team 1, while Sledge led Team 2 out in a sprint for the bank on the opposing side of the street.

Nøkk and Thatcher were the last to emerge from the embassy. They hurried with a masked man in tow, who groggily shuffled along the best he could. Liam, the DSU liaison whose team had picked up Harry and the others at the airport, rushed forward with a pair of men to take custody of the terrorist prisoner.

"Harry," Nøkk ventured as she neared, "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Don't worry." Harry waved her on. "We'll talk later. Go."

"Sir." The woman sprinted after Thatcher, and as the pair rushed with their fellow operators to assist Glaz, Maverick, and the DSU, more gunshots rang out from within the bank.

Brussels police officers had hastily set up a new perimeter around the bank, and Harry watched them scramble before eyeing his wristwatch. "Guardian Actual, get us floorplans of the bank across the street, south of the embassy. Belgium United Financial."

"Already done, sir," Kate Harvell responded. "Forwarding now."

"Thank you."

"This is Finka." Her voice sounded far away in Harry's earpiece. "Sitrep on the bank: staff and customers already evacuated. We have Brussels PD on the line. They should be sending the bank manager your way soon, Harry."

"Copy." Harry tugged down on the balaclava he wore - he hid his face just like the men and women working for him - and beckoned Lt. Col. Maes with a wave. "Your signal sounds weak, Finka. Check it."

"Roger that."

*          *          *

Erik "Maverick" Thorn jogged up the staircase leading from the bank lobby to the second floor, bracing his M4 tight against his shoulder. His finger rested on the trigger, and the man passively kept his breathing controlled in a steady cadence as he reached a hallway branching to the left and right.

A dark red carpet ran the length of the hall in both directions, narrow enough to leave ornate marble tiles visible on either side at the base of the walls.

Maverick was about to ask Glaz for a sitrep when shots sounded in the distance to the right - east. Echoes boomed off the walls and coasted past Maverick, and he immediately followed the noises with both eyes open as he kept his gaze down sight. "Glaz, that you?"

"Da. Second floor, east wing. Offices. Three hostiles have barricaded themselves in a suite."

"Ascended stairs. Comin' up on your location, buddy. Hang tight."

"This is Sledge," the man injected over the radio. "Be advised, we've entered the lobby and linked up with DSU. We—"

Maverick didn't hear the rest of Sledge's words, because a shadowy figure not ten meters ahead leaned out of an open doorway, firearm in-hand.

"Fuck," Erik hissed. "Contact, corridor - second floor!"

Shots sounded and bullets zipped by. Maverick instinctively ducked and leaned into the wall on his right, squeezing off a burst of fire. His assailant ducked out of view. "Where are the rest of you?"

"Lobby," Sledge answered. "Moving with the others upstairs."

"Get a fuckin' move on, yeah?"

"Fuck you, Thorn. You had a head start."

"I deserve that." Maverick dashed a few meters forward before hurling himself through the closed door of an office, a short distance down the hall from the enemy shooter. "Taking cover in an office on the south side of the hall."

"— your location," came a woman's voice over the radio.

Maverick had his rifle steadied at the doorway. "Say again?"

"Highlighting your location," the woman repeated, stronger this time. It was Finka. "Pinging on HUD for all units."

Before Thorn could reply, muffled gunfire erupted nearby. Bullets peppered the wall just a pace away, sending debris and dust pluming out into the office.

Maverick cursed and sank low. He rolled onto his back, planted his boots against the wall, and kicked hard enough to slide back across the tile. His head bumped lightly into a desk, and the man hurriedly reached to his headset and flicked down a small square glass attached to a swivel. "Flament!" he called urgently. "Drone assist!"

"Copy that," Lion responded. "On my mark: Three. Two."

Maverick centered the looking glass over his right eye.

"One. Drone active."

A deep, bassy hum pinged over the radio waves as Lion's EE-ONE-D drone unleashed one long sonar pulse, of which highlighted movements of hostiles... through the walls.

Through the electronic looking glass that was synced with the operational HUD and Lion's drone, Maverick saw the red outline of his enemy on the other side of the wall.

"Tango spotted," he breathed, steadying his aim. A split-second later, the report of his rifle echoed loudly through the office, and he popped off another short volley of semi-automatic fire before getting to his feet.

The highlighted hostile on the other side of the wall hit the floor before vanishing.

"Tango down," Maverick informed. He pinched the swivel of his looking glass with two gloved fingers and snapped it back into its secure position on his headset. "Fucker."