Scorned (Rainbow Six Siege Fanfiction)

Prologue

"Welcome back, Ritual."

"Thanks, Doctor." The masked woman looks into her lap in shame.

"Please, Harry." He urges, a soft smile falling on averted eyes. The realization that she's not here to be friendly comes swift, and he clears his throat. "Well, with all of the formal things out of the way..." He sets her folder aside, "The worst is now behind us."

"Hmph..." She scoffs, leaning back in the chair. The urge to say something witty, any of the hundred thoughts buzzing inside, comes as it always does. She looks at her fingers delicately tapping the arm of the chair, feeling her beaten knuckles creak and whine with a subtle pain she knew well. And yet, the thoughts were already gone beneath a more familiar feeling, a bitten tongue.

"Kámá," Harry raises a brow and stands up, pushing off of his desk and grabbing his pen as his hand meets it along the way. It rolls briefly along with his fingers. "I never made this decision to punish you. I did it to protect you from the team, and them from you. With many of them coming from zero-casualty units or ones with strict rules for friendlies, I don't want another altercation like the one between Mei Lin and Kessikbayev. You might tear someone apart."

"What about them tearing me apart?" Ritual feels the words spill too quickly to recant, throwing her hands up to tear off her helmet. "How am I ever supposed to regain my place here when they all hate me, and you let them believe it?" Her saddened eyes look into Harry's through her frenzied hair. Her face was covered in scars, old and new. "What are you really protecting me from?"

"Râsemûse." Harry pleads. "I... Understand that this isn't easy, and that you may not see it the way that you need to... But I do. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be." He urges, making the woman shrink into the soft chair. "You've acknowledged your mistakes and you faced your consequences, and the others have too. It's time to move on."

"How do you expect me to move on from him?" The woman shakes her head softly, looking up. She realizes she's shown too much of herself yet again. With a sigh, she replaces her helmet, letting the lone tear absorb into the soft lining. "So what? Am I being moved again? More training?"

"No. In fact..." He comes around the desk, grabs a vanilla colored folder labeled 'confidential' and hands it to her. "You will be training them."

"A swift change of heart..." Ritual mocks slightly as she flips through the dossiers. She reaches the last page, looking it over intently. Bringing it a hair closer to her face, gripping the paper firmly between her fingers, she examines the photo printed. "I..." A thought pops into her head, but she pushes it aside. "I thought I'm not allowed to work with anyone."

"You are indefinitely suspended from working with Rainbow," Harry reiterates, "But no one ever said future Rainbow. These men are just Recruits. Our first exercise to make you into a team player and hopefully get you back on the field is to teach others. Despite your... Less than ideal methods, they need your kind of skill and leadership. Besides," the man chuckles a little. "I don't think you have much heart to complain."

"Out of six..." She snaps out of it and goes to the beginning, flipping through again. "Spetsnaz, FBI, GSG 9, GIGN, and SAS..." She stops on the last page once more before plucking it from the folder. "There's only one shield, and he's unaffiliated?"

"Yes. It may be out of your comfort zone, but I see potential in him... You may see something in him, too." Harry smiles a little. The woman glances up to him, yet before she can ask what he means by that, he resumes. "You have worked with many shields yourself, correct?"

"The disposable ones or not?"

"Râsemûse."

"Yes." Ritual looks over the paper for a moment longer before setting the folder down on Harry's wooden desk. "But how am I supposed to train them consistently when there's an outlier?"

"That is part of the test." He comes around and pats her shoulder. She stiffens. "You will have to figure that out yourself, and report back with their progress."

"A fresh start..." She sighs, picking up the folder and reaching for the door. Part of her wanted to remain hopeful, but the other part knew it was pointless. This would end the same way it always does. Her gloved hand rests on the brass-colored handle. "Let's hope I don't break your toys."

"You need the base keys," Harry says, tossing them to her. She catches them without needing to look and gives them a swift twirl before dropping them into her pocket. "There... You're ready for deployment."

"Understood. Thank you, Harry." Ritual closes the door with a small sigh and walks to the helipad outside the facility. Her footsteps echo as she walks down the catwalk. She considers brushing her fingers against the lockers, but resists the urge. The mirroring catwalk had people going back and forth. She feels their eyes boring holes through her plate carrier, their whispers and gossip like screams bouncing between her helmet and her ears. She walks a little faster and roughly braces the large doors before her, escaping the suffocation.

"Ready to go?" The pilot turns around to greet her. His eyes were obscured by his helmet, but from what could be seen, he had a sharp jawline and a pronounced Adam's apple, light stubble creeping up his face. He was average in height, his figure lean, and he gave her an enchanting grin.

"You're not Jäger." Ritual scans his form behind chromatic lenses, slinging her bag off of her shoulder and instead holding it by its worn handles.

"He sends his regards." He chuckles, seemingly playfully offended, flipping a few switches. "Name's Able--I'm your new escort. Hop on." He says, putting his gloved hand out to her. Normally Ritual would turn a hand away, but upon not being met with the usual judgmental gaze, she takes his and rests her concealed hand in his palm. She steps up into the helicopter, strapping herself in with a deep breath and relaxing into the firm seat.

"So, I hear your name's Kámámê." Able turns around to look at her briefly as he adjusts some more things in front of him. 

"Y-You..." She grimaces slightly, though surprised... Especially that he'd pronounced it correctly. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Six. Apparently we'll be seeing each other often." She can hear him chuckle through his mask. "So, what's your story?"

"Ha, you haven't heard that yet?" The woman scoffs as her final belt clicks, looking up to meet his eye.

"I heard you're cold," The man shakes off her abrasion, stopping to turn around and look at her. "Which tracks, but I don't believe that's really you. I'm not real big on eavesdropping, y'know, over the sound of the blades and all." He chimes, making a spinning motion with his finger as his voice fades and the helicopter lifts from the ground.

"Hmph... Maybe you won't be so bad... Able." Ritual hums, amused. "As long as you fly better than you read people, that is."

"If you enjoy the ride, just be sure to give me a good review." The man clicks his tongue, making her shake her head. She couldn't tell if the flight would be long or not.