Rainbow Six: November Sun

30: "OWN WORST ENEMY"

SEPTEMBER 9, 2019
SHEREMETYEVO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
MOSCOW, RUSSIA

Finka lugged her rucksack through the airport over one shoulder, while nursing a cup of coffee in the other hand. The flight had been just over three and a half hours to Moscow, and she was grateful it was such a short distance.

She was tired. Her mind felt foggy. The woman could practically feel new grey hairs growing from the stress she carried.

She exited the north terminal and stepped warily to the curb. Her Uber driver had sent a text that he was nearby just five minutes before.

The sooner she could get to her hotel, the better.

Finka sipped her coffee and looked up at the sweeping glass windows of the airport terminal. Fluffy white clouds reflected off of them, contrasting beautifully with the pitch blue sky. It had been over a year since she had last been to Russia, and it felt good. Familiar.

Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket, and she set down her rucksack to take a look. Tachanka had sent a pic - a purposefully awkward selfie with both Fuze and Kapkan flipping off the camera behind him. Have fun and have some vodka for us! read the caption.

Finka snorted and dropped her phone back in her pocket. She already missed her comrades, which felt strangely inappropriate. She disliked getting attached to places, circumstances.

People.

She found herself wondering how the hell Alexsandr managed to look ten years younger than he was. She would never admit it, but her longtime flirtation with the man had come easily, even from the beginning.

Their conversation the night before was suddenly playing out in her mind. The warmth in Alex's eyes, his encouraging words.

Lera felt guilty, suddenly. She had told him she was going back home to Belarus, but had instead booked a flight for Moscow. Why did she feel guilty about that? Because it had been years since she had seen her family? Because she had told Alex one thing, but done another?

But to feel bad about changing her mind - what sense did that make?

Her phone vibrated again. This time it was a call from her Uber driver, and he found Finka quickly amidst the passengers bustling about outside the terminal.

"Hello," the man offered, yawning as she slid into the backseat. "Mind if I play the radio?"

"That's fine."

"You want to choose the station?"

Finka shook her head. "No, thank you."

The driver swiped on his phone and connected an address to his GPS. "We're headed to the Crowne Plaza Hotel, yes?"

"Mm. Spasibo."

The man nodded and flashed her a grin in the mirror. "I will be quiet. I can see you are very tired."

Finka clicked her seatbelt in place and leaned on her elbow against the window. "Thanks," she grumbled.

The driver's eyes widened. "I - I did not mean disrespect. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're not wrong."

The man smiled apologetically before checking his mirrors and guiding the car out of the terminal parking. It would be a short drive to the Crowne Plaza, a 5-star hotel that Finka was very much looking forward to.

She had not led a luxurious life, so when Harry told her that Rainbow would pay food, travel, and shelter expenses for her trip, Finka seized the opportunity to treat herself.

She could not know, after all, how much longer she had to experience such things.

The woman clenched her jaw and shut her eyes, ignoring the cold window glass chilling her forehead. She couldn't think that way. She had spent nearly a lifetime training herself to avoid such bleak thoughts. That kind of negativity accomplished nothing.

* * *

Finka checked herself into the hotel without further incident, and when she entered her room, she was met with sunlight glowing beyond the window curtains and the clean fragrance of a well-kept space.

She dropped her bag on the queen-size bed and strode to the window. She parted the curtains and took in the view of the Moscow city skyline that jutted upwards into the seemingly endless blue.

An entire city bustled about beyond the window glass. What did she matter in the grand scheme of things? Nobody down there even knew she existed. They did not know of the battles she had fought in the shadows for years with the FSB, Rainbow. They knew nothing of her research. Nothing of her condition.

If she were to disappear, right then and there, would the world even care? Would it even matter?

Finka leaned gently against the window and rested her forehead against her forearm. Sleep tugged at her eyes, and she watched the muted lives of the city bustle about on the streets below.

The negative thinking was coming easier, wasn't it?

The woman finally straightened and closed the curtains. She turned and shrugged out of her leather jacket before kicking off her shoes and pulling off her jeans.

Her eyes found the mini bar. Finka sighed. She had once had quite the problem with alcohol; it had helped her cope with her existence, at first, before graduating to an addiction that threatened her life. Her relationships. Her future.

The woman tiredly pulled off her t-shirt and trudged into the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and looked up at herself in the mirror for a long moment.

Her eyes were fierce as ever. Her body was strong, toned - the scar on her face spoke of her resilience.

Finka absently traced a finger against her firm belly. The bathroom lighting flattered her body's muscle tone, but she felt nothing but dread while looking at herself.

She had taken great care of her body; more than most folks could ever hope to understand. Yet, for all the muscle she had gained, all of the training she had put herself through, all of the hardship she had faced, her body was still her greatest threat.

Somewhere under that skin was an invisible sickness that wanted to eat away her muscles and their ability to function. It was getting worse with each passing year.

The woman leaned her open palms on the bathroom sink and stared hard at herself. "Lera," she whispered. "You will not think that way. You will turn this around. You are not your disease. You are your response to your disease."

They were harsh words, perhaps budding from an unfair pressure Finka had put on herself years before - but they had helped her on more than one occasion.

After a silent moment with her own thoughts, Lera splashed more water on her face before turning out the lights. She flopped down on the hotel bed, too tired to even draw the blanket over herself, and she waded into the waters of sleep.