A Web of Lies, A Rainbow Six Story

Part 7: Wounds of the Heart Never Heal

Alibi's POV

I sit alone in the Mess Hall late at night, trying to disentangle the knot of mysteries surrounding Marco. I'm the only one here this late, but I'm thankful for the quiet being alone brings tonight. Marco both infuriates and intrigues me, both for the same reason. I don't understand him, and I can't ever figure out what is going on in his head. My thoughts keep coming back to his sister, and the inscription on her tombstone. 'You were my light, my better half. I couldn't protect you, but I will avenge you little wolf. I love you.' His light? I understand the idea of her being his better half, but not his light. There's something I'm missing here, some unseen piece of the puzzle. 

The sound of footsteps approaching me from behind breaks me out of my thoughts, and I turn around to find Taina 'Caveira' Pereira stalking slowly towards me, her head down as she studies an intricate knife in her hands. She sits down next to me, and glances up at me with a strange expression, before sliding the knife in front of me. "What does it say?" she asks curiously. I pick up the knife and study it closely to find that the blade has words inscribed onto it in gentle sweeping calligraphy, an insignia resting below it. It looks faintly familiar, but I can't tell where I've seen it before. As I look closer at the inscription, I realize that the words are in Italian. Mi dispiace. The insignia is a wolf's head, its teeth clamped tightly around a bone. I turn back to Taina with a confused expression, wondering where she got the knife. "It says 'I'm sorry'... Where did you get this Taina?" I say quietly, raising an eyebrow at the stunned expression on her face. 

Her reply is nearly silent when it comes, and her voice is filled with a confusing storm of emotions. "The guy who almost killed me yesterday. Marco. He came to my room an hour ago...I thought he was there to finish the job. But he just took two steps inside and set the knife down on the table before leaving without a word." Taina looks up, her eyes meeting mine, and I can see the terror lighting her eyes at the memory, tears hanging heavily on her lashes. "When he drew the knife, I...I was scared Aria. I've never been scared of dying before. But when I saw the knife in his hands, I gave up. All I could do was stand there and wait for him to kill me." Taina's voice quivers as she speaks in a way I've never heard from her before. 

I sigh heavily, and lean forward on my elbows, resting my chin in my hands. "I just wish that I knew more about him Taina. I want him to feel welcome here, but...Every time it seems like he is making progress, something happens that sets him back to square one. And nobody here knows him except-" My voice trails off as I realize exactly how I could get my answers. Taina looks at me curiously. 

"Except for who?" 

"Except for Mute. From what I saw yesterday, they're old friends. If anyone would know about Marco, it would be him." I answer excitedly. Taina scoffs at me, rolling her eyes in doubt. "Chandar? Please, he doesn't have any friends. He barely tolerates his fellow SAS members." She says. I nod along with her. "True, but you didn't see the two of them in the Mess Hall yesterday. I'm gonna go see him." 

I stand up and walk quickly out of the Mess Hall, heading down to the South Wing, where the GIGN and the SAS dorms reside. I find the door with Mute's insignia stamped into it, and knock gently on the door, mindful of the late hour. After a moment the door swings open to reveal Mark standing there in jeans and a simple black T-shirt. At the sight of me, he starts to shut the door, but I stop him with my hand on the door, pushing back against it. "Mark, please. I need to talk to you about Marco. I..." I sigh heavily, my eyes meeting his. "I need to understand... Please." Mark holds my stare for a long moment, his eyes guarded, before flicking his gaze downwards and stepping aside. I step through the doorway and he shuts it behind me without a word, walking across the room to sit on the couch. I quietly follow him, perching myself neatly on the arm of a nearby chair, waiting patiently.