Operation Leap of Faith

Epilogue

Two months later - Hereford

The painting was far from finished, but Glaz was already happy with how it was coming together. After a month of having only a little time to invest in his hobby, he was quickly reconnecting with his passion for making colourful scenes. He was mostly painting from memory, the house in the background probably didn't resemble his aunt's cottage - where he spent so many summer vacations - that much, but to him it was just as perfect as he remembered it.

He took a break to stretch his arms and neck and observed the familiar scene unfolding around him, the Spetsnaz being back together finally. He watched with a smile as Fuze was complaining yet again about someone eating most of the halva his grandma had sent. Finka listened to him, only interrupting Fuze's rant to ask why he was so sure the halva thief was Kapkan and not Tachanka, or Glaz, or even her. She laughed at his confusion and promised to help him catch the culprit red-handed if she could have part of the remaining treat. It seemed everyone loved the food Fuze's grandma sent. He was about to answer Finka when Ash poked her head into the room.

"Meeting in five minutes guys, so move your asses!"

Mildly annoyed by the interruption, Glaz put away his brushes and resigned himself to continue painting later. He doubted that Six would deploy Kapkan again, even if the hunter was making good progress in the healing process. He didn't have stitches anymore and he was training again - Glaz couldn't have been more glad or proud. However, the sniper selfishly wished that whatever the issue at hand was, he wouldn't have to get involved either. He was fine with short missions, but a longer operation was something he wanted to avoid. After his undercover mission, Glaz could confidently say he had his fill of drama for a while. He was still dealing with the aftermath of it all: he was still exhausted, both physically and mentally. He was dealing with sleepless nights, anxiety and remorse. The later two always came hand in hand, especially when he saw Kapkan gently touch the scar he gave the hunter. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he saw it again. That surprised, scared expression - maybe even disappointment. To calm his remorseful thoughts, he wanted to stay back and just help the hunter get back to normal. That was his number one priority for now.

His friends didn't wait for him to finish putting away his painting gear, so Glaz made his way downstairs alone. The briefing room was plunged into darkness, which was odd. He looked around. Where was everyone? He turned on the lights, blinking at the harsh and sudden glare of the fluorescents. The chairs had been neatly organised in orderly rows, all facing the big box on the other side of the room. Glaz felt his stomach drop as he realised it was a casket. He saw an all too familiar body lying there. He wanted to reach out, to step closer and check, but he couldn't move. He was frozen to his place, filled with more and more terrible thoughts. His hands started to shake.

There was a light sniffling by his side, and Glaz spotted Finka wiping away the tears from her eyes. She regarded him with a sneer. "How could you?! You traitor!"

He stood stunned as she ran away from him and towards Fuze, who put an arm around her shoulders as she sniffled again. He wanted to say something, anything, but he just couldn't open his mouth as if his lips were frozen together as well. He spotted Tachanka by their side, shaking his head. Someone clapped his shoulder, and Glaz turned around to a face he had hoped to never see again.

"Like it or not, but you're ours now. Once you are in, there is no way out!" Damien was snarling at him, just as the last time Glaz had seen him.

Glaz wanted to scream that it wasn't true, but he couldn't speak. He had always known that sparing Damien would eventually come to bite him in the ass; it had just been a question of time. But how did a terrorist get into the base?

He suddenly noticed that Sledge, Maestro and Lion were there as well, keeping close to the other Spetsnaz and giving him dirty looks. There was a trail of blood leading from the casket to them, Lion's hands still dripping red. The Frenchman looked pale and broken, his eyes were blank. Dread gripped his heart, whatever was going on he had a bad feeling about it.