R6S // SEE NO EVIL [VOL.1]

➤OP-11 // RECOVERY

Black. White. Black. White. Metal. Piercing skin. Cold. It was so cold. Buzzing, flickering lights; like the sun in a blizzard. How'd I end up here? Everything was so foggy, I couldn't make out what had happened after...After...the explosion. The explosion, that's what happened. Ryad– I– We pushed the hostage over the ledge, the explosion. I couldn't jump away faster enough, it caught me. He carried me out. Sirens. Ambulance sirens. Hospital. I was- I'm in a hospital.

My eye cracked open, reviving me back into consciousness; a raspy breath coughed out. My body ached, pushing myself strained my joints but I needed to sit up. The sterile smell of the infirmary was something no american wanted to be familiar with unless they had insurance. Memories flooded almost instantly of the operation; smoke and fire, gunfire and dead bodies. Reaching to hold my head, I felt the mass of bandages that were wrapped around my head. Flinching as I traced over my left cheek, where I expected the feeling of flesh it went further in; sunken and sensitive.

Scanning the room with what vision I had, it was a bit blurry but I was starting to adjust. As I did I finally took notice of Nokk who sat in a chair across from me in the more hallway section of the infirmary. Still masked in her usual veil, but wore sweats and a hoodie instead of her uniform. I think she was asleep. "I think he's right, you have a staring problem." She spoke up, debunking my theory. "Don't try talking, it'll mess up your bandages."

She was right, the bandages were wrapped tightly around my jaw, preventing me from talking. Nokk joined me at my side, I could only look at her. "Jackal told me what went down inside, ballsy choice if you ask me." She remarked. "Though everything comes with a price, but I think you found out pretty easily."

I replied with a shrug, she was right I took a risk and paid the price. One life for the lives of the many in that room, hard choices like this are the daily. I pulled the blanket off and tried to get up, though she planted a hand on my shoulder and forced my butt back down into the bed. "No-can-do, Doc says you gotta stay in here until his call."

With a quick roll of the eye, I flopped back into bed. Makes sense but a man's gotta do something than just sit here for who knows how long.

"We were able to meet with some of the Officers who had intel, so most of the british operatives were naturally drawn to do something to get back at the White masks." She explained what went down afterward while I was unconscious. Everything that went down was crazy, London got turned into a warzone and because of that civilian lives were lost. We couldn't imagine what kind of firepower they were packing, or who was waiting to strike from the shadows.

Hours turned into a few weeks where I was under the direct care of Doc, who managed my wounds. The first time we took off the bandages, shocked was an understatement as half of my face had been burned; from my left cheek bone to lower neck region.

Overtime I got used to seeing it, that didn't mean it wasn't sensitive still. He advised that I wear some patches over them to stimulate the healing process, with those I also chose to wear my neck gaiter more often. Though much to my unamusement, this allowed Grace to greenscreen a myriad of things onto my face from her tablet.

Fortunately I was able to be released from medical care by Doc, the first thing I chose to do besides grabbing a bite of actual food was to hit the gym. I was doing some light warm ups involving a resistance band when I noticed Tachanka, he was working on his routine in his own world.

Despite his tough outside, he was in reality a really chill guy. According to other Spetznas he's been described as a grandpa due to his conservative nature in terms of technology and habits. "Aleksandr, care if I join you?"

"Of course not," He grunted through reps of large dumbbells, despite his focus on the weights he smiled at me. "Always happy to have someone to train with!"

Between sets, Tachanka would share stories of his training routines back in Russia and the rigorous physical tests he had to endure to become a Spetsnaz operator. I listened with fascination, realizing that beneath the armor and the mounted LMG, there was a man who had worked hard to become the formidable operator he was today.

As the days passed, I continued my physical therapy and training with Tachanka, gradually building my strength back up. Each session was a mix of hard work; Physical and Mental, with Tachanka pushing me to my limits and encouraging me to push even further.

One evening, as we were wrapping up a workout, Tachanka surprised me by saying, "You know, Ethan, its only natural that everyone has their doubts about the newest recruit, 'what can they do that I cannot?' is always the first."

"Then what did you think of me?" I asked as he placed down the weights.

"I thought nothing of you," He admitted. "Literally. I had no clue you existed."

"Ouch."

"But you've given yourself a name on the base, not just another American operator, but someone who has the heart," Tachanka explained. "I mean I don't even know half of the other Americans' names. Whos that one with the glass window on his gun? It's so weak!" Tachanka finished his last set with the deadlift. "You're funny too, drink with me and my boys some time." He offered.

"I'll keep you guys in mind when I want to get wasted," I smirked. Eventually came the day when I was cleared for active duty again. Though my face would never be the same, my mind was stronger than ever.