Elena and the rest of her team stacked up on the door to the living room, with her hands tightly gripped around her MP5. Thatcher gave the nod to Blitz, who chucked a flash grenade into the room. "Move, move, move!" Thatcher ordered them into the room.
The gunfire only lasted for a few seconds as the terrorist dropped to the floor. The team chorused, "Clear," as the operators still scanned the room, just as they had been trained.
Upstairs, a flashbang was heard going off and people started shouting. Mira recognized one of the voices as Archer. She felt a little better knowing that he was still in. But the relief didn't last long. An explosion vibrated through the whole house. She knew exactly what the explosion was: Her mock suicide vest was designed to simulate a bomber. That had become a common occurrence in terrorist incidents, so Harry authorized the training device.
Something was different, though. The explosion had a lot more force than she designed it to give off. It was supposed to just be enough power to give you a good scare.
At that moment, comms crackled to life, "All stations, this is Team-3 Lead, the simulation is FUBAR. We have a man down." It was Ash coughing and gagging.
"Roger that Team-3 Lead," Dieter responded over the radio, "All stations on this net, simulation over. Stand down." That's when all of the terrorists that they were previously shooting at stood up.
"What the fuck just happened?" One of the terrorists said in a thick British accent, most of the people playing bad guys in simulations were the 22nd Special Air Service Operators stationed in Hereford.
Elena was the first out of the living room door to check the 2nd floor. With the others behind her, she spotted several Rainbow operators weakly crawling on the floor. Thatcher crouched down beside Ash, "What happened Eliza?" She didn't respond. She instead coughed out a gray smoke like the other members of her team. Thatcher keyed his radio and ordered medics to the training area immediately.
Elena continued into the master bedroom and saw the HVT that was wearing the suicide vest coughing and stumbling out of the door. (She had designed it to wear the vest that wouldn't hurt the wearer, but just give the people nearby a good jolt of force.)
Inside there was someone clumped up near the doorway. She rolled over the person and immediately noticed that it was the mysterious CIA Officer that gave Rainbow an exciting couple of weeks. "Archer, wake up," She shook him to no avail. Elena started panicking, "Mike! Get in here!"
Thatcher rushed into the room and crouched down over Archer. He looked up and saw the dent in the drywall. "He got slammed into the wall, could be a concussion." Mike activated his radio, "Gustave, are you on this freq?"
"Oui, coming up the stairs now," Doc answered, while his voice could also be heard outside the room. He entered the room and dropped his medical bag on the ground next to Archer. "It's not good," Doc inspected the American for a moment. Blood was flowing from his forehead, probably from an impact, but he was visibly still breathing, albeit faintly. "We are going to need to move him to the Med Center."
One of the medical personnel brought in a stretcher when Gustave snapped his fingers. Elena closely followed the medics while they passed a drowsy Glaz, who was standing in the main entrance, holding his HK417 in a cradle carry position. He quickly had a shock of adrenaline when he saw his newly made friend being carried past him by medics. "What happened?" Elena didn't answer him, she had tunnel vision trying to follow them down the walkway. While they loaded Archer into the humvee, Elena stopped Gustave.
"Is he going to be okay?" She asked frantically.
Gustave got into the humvee's passenger side and spoke through the window, "I can't say right now, Elena. Take the truck with LaFleur back to base." He motioned to the humvee parked behind them, "Harry is pissed."
***
Back at Langley, Domingo Chavez was filing out some after-action reports. Ding was the head honcho of the Studies and Observations Group, named after the infamous unit that roamed the jungles of Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. The unit was much like its predecessor in the 1960s; it was largely unheard of by the public during its heyday. They were technically a branch under the Special Activities Center, but SOG is vastly different than SAC/SOG, despite a similar name. Their operators weren't middle-aged private contractors that train up a bunch of foreign militants that end up stabbing them in the back a decade later.
They were younger Tier 1 operators that are still technically a part of the US Armed Forces. SOG does things as people see in the movies such as stopping major conflicts before they even happen, killing Highly Valued Targets that pose a major threat to the United States, but will do deeds for other NATO countries to keep good relations up. Being under the CIA had its perks though, they had the ability to work with barely any legal parameters and were given the best equipment money can buy. Ding selected most of the operators that had the drive to do bad things to bad people, and not second guess it. The only really bad thing was that they never got credit for anything officially. If SOG operatives toppled a cartel in Mexico, the Federal Police had done it, at least to the people who read about it in the news the next day.
Ding was the only person to 'go ahead' any mission, to ensure no one can misuse the unit's legal impunity. Sadly the CIA was known for that. Ding was probably the most trustworthy person in the US Government, at least to Archer.
Ding filed the last report and looked up to see a woman in a business suit that exuded an aura of seriousness. It was Michelle Hudson, Deputy Director of the CIA. She was in her late twenties but acted much older. Michelle was clearly beautiful, even with her perpetual frown, but she was vicious as a cornered cobra. She had been a field officer before becoming a desk jockey. She has confirmed her fair share of infamous terrorists when SpecOps dragged them back to base, often riddled with bullets.
"Mr. Chavez, Director Kingsly just got wind that one of your muts in Britain got wounded in a training accident," Michelle said furiously while tucking her shoulder-length blonde behind her ear.
"You mean Archer? When?" Ding said, oblivious to what had happened.
Michelle sighed and crossed her arms, "A couple of hours ago." Ding grabbed his office phone and dialed a number. After speaking for a moment he hung up and stood while grabbing his jacket. "Who was that?"
"My pilot. Let's go!" Ding rushed out of his office as Michelle hesitantly followed him down the hallway and passing several analysts.
"To where?" She asked trying to keep up with him.
"Hereford, Grab your go-bag."
***
Hours later, the pair found themselves in the private jet that embarked from Andrews AFB. Michelle was speaking to her supervisor over the phone while looking out the side window. "Where are you, Michelle?" Director Kingsly demanded over the phone.
"In the air, sir." She could hear him sigh on the other end, "Heading to the UK."
"And why wasn't I informed?"
"Chavez brought me along in the spur of the moment," Not wanting to piss off the Director anymore, she thought of a good excuse for leaving unannounced. "Sir, this could be good. I can get an honest statement of the operations on the ground. You know that's where I work the best."
There was a moment of silence before Kingsly spoke again, "Fine, just keep them in the dark about the gas. They're boy scouts, just like the President. He's already up my ass about that Black Site."
"Yes sir, Hudson out," Michelle hung up just as Ding walked out of the restroom. He sat down in the seat parallel to her's. They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Ding spoke.
"You've met Archer, right?" Ding asked as she glanced at him and looked back out the window.
"We've been acquainted," She said flatly. Ding knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. Every time she and Kingsly came over to monthly brief them on world events and possible targets or missions, Archer and Michelle would always trade awkward looks. Ding suspected them hooking up at one time in a one-night stand from the body language, something Clark had taught him about reading people.
She took a cigarette out of her bag and lit it. Ding could tell it was a premium cigarette with a pleasant tobacco fragrance, instead of the usual chemical stench. Archer also smoked rarely, but it definitely wasn't a $70 pack of smokes.
"You don't mind do you?" Michelle asked, not really meaning it because she was already lighting the coffin nail, ---She was accustomed to asking when with high-ranking government officials. Ding shook his head. He was born in 1964, so he was practically raised in a cloud of tobacco smoke.
She took a drag and turned back to Ding, "Didn't you used to run Rainbow?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah, right after Clark resigned, I took the reins." Ding signed and leaned back, "I shouldn't have left. Harry is fucking over everything Clark set up twenty-one years ago."
"What do you mean?"
"I got a report the other day there is an archeologist, paramilitary contractors, and other non-NATO recruits, hell, even Hong Kong police. That's like bringing the Gestapo into Rainbow. Aurelia was on thin ice before she left, so she pushed the responsibility onto Harry. His lack of military experience didn't help any," Ding paused for a second, "Rainbow was for Tier 1 units across the globe. The best of the best, but now it's a fucking circus."
Michelle released the smoke and observed Ding. She was amused by passion in his rant. He was truly upset about Rainbow's current direction. "They still have a high mission success rate, but I see what you mean."
"Shit, maybe linking Archer up with Rainbow was a mistake. Russians and Chinese everywhere. He's smart though. He knows who he can trust."
***
Archer strained to open his eyes, but once he did his blurry vision made him struggle to observe his surroundings. The bleeping of a heart monitor and the sterile smell told him it was a hospital room. "Goddammit, I'm sick of getting knocked out," Archer muttered to himself while rubbing his eyelids. When he tried to move his arms he found an IV stuck in his wrist. After pulling it out, he tried to remember what had happened. Once the memories came back he cursed himself for being so stupid. After all the shit he's been through, he gets blown up in a damn training accident.
Archer pushed himself off the bed, only to be stopped by a passing nurse, "Sir, you have to get back into bed." The nurse helped him when his legs refused to support his body.
"Shit!" He shouted from the pain, "Christ, how long have I been out?" The nurse pushed the call button as Gustave came into the room moments later.
"Ah, I see you're up, Archer." Gustave gestured for the nurse to leave.
"The fuck happened, Gus?" Archer groaned while getting back into bed. Kateb sighed and looked at his clipboard.
"Well... You've got yourself a concussion," He paused while Archer sighed, "also a couple of sprains. That is astonishing considering that you were three meters away from an explosion, albeit a weak one."
"Who else got hurt?"
"Nobody. You got everybody out before it went off." Gustave said as Archer sighed from relief, "You better be careful, Arch, being a hero isn't very healthy." Archer rolled his eyes. He then asked when he could get out of the Medical Center. "Later today, but you need to take it easy, you hear?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"I have to run. If you need anything, hit that buzzer. Au Revoir." Archer waved as Gustave left the room. He sighed and looked out the window at the courtyard and wondered what his father would think if he saw his son lying in a hospital bed, like a useless sack-of-shit, he'd cross his arms and say, "Dammit son", Archer thought. Most likely his father would just be worried about him, but Archer was known for beating himself up for no real good reason.
Archer looked to the table to his left and saw his medical record laying out in the open, revealing his Name, Age, Rank, DoB, and Place of Birth just out for everyone to see. Several thoughts rushed through Archer's mind: Where did they get it? Who seen it? Archer had just realized that anyone that came into his hospital room to check on him now has leverage over him. Maybe it was only Gustave that seen it, he seemed trustworthy, Archer thought.
Bringing him from his thoughts, a brunette Spaniard poked her head through the door. "You're up?" Elena asked while entering the room. While simultaneously happy to see her, he didn't want her to see the file. Archer hurriedly flipped the file over as Elena looked at him curiously.
"How are you feeling?" She sat down in the chair next to his bed as Archer didn't answer her question. He was dazed by her beauty. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail to more comfortably wear the tan baseball cap, as her enchanting brown eyes that were green around the edges, made him completely forget about the surging pain in his legs and his light headache.
He stammered to reply, "Uh... Yeah, sure." He said, not even coming close to answering her. She looked at him skeptically.
"Are you alright, Archer?"
"Oh, yeah. I slapped my head pretty good, but I guess I'll be fine." She smiled and nodded.
"That sounds good. I heard your boss is heading down here." She said as Archer looked at her puzzled, "His name was Ding? He's coming down to help Harry coordinate missions better, or at least I hear." Archer knew why Ding was heading down. Alpha Charlie, or ass-chewing in civilian terms. "Our Intelligence Wing got wind on an SRF Base in the Venezuelan jungle. The mission is still in the planning phase, but I'm sure you're going to be on it."
"Yeah, I'm sure I will."
"Listen, Archer, I wanted to say sorry for putting you in the Med Center." Archer looked at her confusedly. He asked her why she was apologizing. So she responded, "That mock-suicide vest was my making. It was my fault that it malfunctioned and blew your ass up." She said the last part in her most American accent possible.
"Don't worry about it. My ass is still intact... I'm pretty sure, at least," Archer said sarcastically, which earned a cute smile from Elena. She then looked down at her wrist-watch and the smile left when she realized the time.
"Damn, Harry is having a briefing in 10 minutes." She looked in deep thought for a moment and looked at Archer, "Well, I could say a little longer."
Elena seemed to talk for hours about everything from her joining GEO to saving her father from being crushed by a car. But Archer enjoyed every second of Elena's stories, but there was one thought that he couldn't shake from his mind: He couldn't keep a relationship. Especially with his career choices, but his father and grandpa somehow managed. Right now at 25-years-old, it was his best chance to start a family, there wasn't a ring on her finger after all and she mentioned her birth in 1996, making her 24-years-old. He slightly cursed himself for childishly thinking that far ahead, but that's why the CIA pays him the 'Big Bucks'. He thought maybe after Broken Arrow, he could ask her out on a date if Ding could give him some off-time. Yet another reason to topple the SRF.
***
A/N: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter. I was lenient on the action for this one, but there will be plenty to spare in the future. Stay safe over Spring Break, and have a good one.
(Also, if someone comments that Elena was born in 1977, I know this. I just wanted to put her and Archer in similar age groups, so I hope you guys don't care.)