Rainbow Six: November Sun

23: "HAUNTED"

SEPTEMBER 6, 2019
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
ZAMOSKVORECHYE DISTRICT

Matvei Federov stared out the window of his small studio apartment. Night had fallen hours ago across Moscow, but the darkness could not compare to the stone sinking the man's heart. Except for the dull blue light of his TV, his apartment was completely shrouded in darkness.

"—the scene yesterday in Brussels, where armed terrorists seized control of the Russian Embassy and Belgium United Financial Bank. Authorities moved to—"

Matvei turned and stared at the screen. He had been watching the reports all day, and they had not been good for his cause.

"—federal officers collaborated with local police and successfully foiled the terrorist attack. All forty-one hostages were safely recovered in a paramount display of professionalism by Brussels PD and DSU units."

The camera cut to an earlier interview with the Brussels Police Chief. "We do, yes. Absolutely," he was saying. "This whole incident has been troubling, and it has shown us that there is, uh, some work to do for security in our city. But, we do consider the rescue mission a total success. No innocent lives were lost, and Matvei left me there to die."

Matvei snapped his gaze to the television, wide-eyed and shocked at the sound of his dead brother's voice. Yegor was standing at the police chief's podium, looking at the camera with empty eyes.

"I died alone, just like our sister. Just like Tania."

Matvei stared in shock.

"I'm sorry, Matty." Tears were welling up in Yegor's eyes. "I failed us. We were supposed to make a statement. We were supposed to—"

Matvei buried his face in his hands. He felt guilty for not crying over Yegor's death. "Stop, brother."

"—our message. Our vengeance. I've failed us. I failed you."

"Yegor. Please, do not say this."

The TV was suddenly quiet, prompting Matvei to look up reluctantly from his sorrow-laced fingers.

Yegor was still there. His eyes were filled with tears. "I failed Tania, Matvei," he said shakily. "Where were you?"

Matvei shot to his feet. He snatched the remote control from the couch and cocked back his hand to hurl it at the TV, but he stopped himself.

"Certainly," the news reporter was saying. "The footage speaks for itself, Chief, and I think I speak for all of Brussels - and all of Belgium - when I say thank you for your courage."

The police chief maintained a stoic demeanor, and offered a humble nod. "Thank you, but it was the courage of the Brussels Police Department, and the courage of the operators assisting from the Directorate of Special Units, Madame. They deserve the recognition."

"Indeed." The reporter's smile did not fade. "And what of the reports that Dmitri Molchalin, Branch Manager of Belgian United Financial Bank, was one of the hostages taken by the gunmen?"

"All I can say is that all civilians present at both locations are well and accounted for." The police chief flashed a polite smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to it. Thank you for your time."

Matvei shut off the TV and trudged into the kitchen. He opened the freezer and lifted a foggy bottle of vodka from the ice. When he shut the freezer door, he was suddenly staring at a Luzhniki Stadium magnet hanging on the fridge.

The man twisted the cap and tilted the frozen bottle to his lips. He was still feeling the burn of the vodka in his chest when he peeled the magnet off the door.

Yegor, a massive fan of Russian National, had snagged the souvenir magnet from a football game he had attended in Moscow in 2009.

Matvei closed his eyes. He could still picture the excitement on Yegor's face. He could hear his brother's words clearly.

"Matvei - you don't understand. Yeah, the game was great... but Moscow, Matty. Moscow is where we need to be."

"Moscow? How the fuck are we going to move to Moscow, Yegor? You know how much money we would need for that?"

"The buildings. The women. It's fucking incredible. We need to get the fuck out of North Ossetia. This is no place for us. Not anymore."

"Let me know when you've got the money, eh?"

"Fuck the money," Yegor had hissed suddenly, anger seizing his face. "I can't stay here anymore, Matty. I can't. I see her everywhere."

"Yeg, listen. You—"

"I hear her, too. I can still hear her screaming. I see Tania lying there. Bloody. Burnt. I—"

"Yegor."

"—hear the explosion. I'm sick of it. I can't anymore, Matvei." Yegor's voice cracked as he tried to hold back tears. "I need a new start. I need to get the fuck away from Beslan. No more, Matty. I want to be out of Beslan by the year's end."

Matvei had not put up much of an argument.

The Beslan School Siege of 2004 had scarred Matvei and Yegor Federov, as well as countless others. Islamic militants seized a school while it was in session in an attempt to force Russia to recognize Chechnya as an independent nation, and permanently withdraw its forces. Over 1,100 hostages were taken.

The siege lasted three days before Russian forces stormed the school in an attempt to take it back from the terrorists.

What resulted was the bloodiest counterterrorism operation in Russian history. Hundreds of innocents, including children, were killed.

Tania Federova - a teacher's aid at the school, older sister to Matvei and Yegor - was one of them.

Matvei took another drink. Oh, how he missed her. Tania had been more of a parent to Matvei and Yegor than both their mother and father.

Fate had been tragic. It was not the armed terrorists who took her life, but the explosion of a Shmel rocket - a tube-launched incendiary explosive - fired by Russian special forces operators during the rescue.

Yegor had watched as Tania's body was strewn across the hall by the blast. By the time Matvei reached his side, the fire was already consuming her.

Brussels was a failure, and Yegor had now joined Tania in the afterlife. Matvei could let the pain he felt destroy him, or he could harness it and continue November Sun's mission.

He eyed the bottle in his hand. He and Yegor had taken many precautions to ensure his death would not lead authorities directly to Matvei... not too quickly, at least.

November Sun had alluded to the Beslan incident before being overtaken. It would only be a matter of time before authorities drew the connection between Dmitri Molchalin and the crisis.

Matvei exhaled deeply. He would not be defeated. Vengeance was still theirs.