Rainbow Six: Broken Arrow

Chapter 1: The Agency

Three Years Ago

The African sun turned Port Sudan into an earthly version of Hell. In the streets, Delta Force operators were being given chase by the local militia. "Disciple 1-2 to Overlord, be advised, we are pinned down!" The Multicam-clad soldier yelled in the helmet-mounted radio, as he fired his HK416 at the militants. Not hearing any response, the sniper realized that the radio wasn't transmitting. The AN/PRC-152 in his plate carrier had been struck by a bullet. "Damn! My comms are out!"

"Deal with it later! Lambert is fading!" Another soldier alerted as he applied pressure to the injured man's neck. Their team leader had been shot in the throat but had somehow survived this far. "We have to fall back. Lambert isn't going to last fifteen minutes."

"We can't just leave! Those rangers are still pinned up the next block!" The team's medic yelled over the gunfire as he swapped the magazines in his rifle and repositioned to help the dying teammate.

"RPG!" A voice shouted as the projectile exploded next to the sniper and sent him flying and slammed him into a wall, knocking him unconscious

Present Day

It was a seemingly normal day in the George Bush Center of Intelligence, in actuality it was anything but.

Archer took a right on Dolley Madison Boulevard and stopped at the gated checkpoint. He then handed his ID to the familiar security guard, "Morning, Damien," Archer greeted the man.

"How was your trip?" Damien asked as he inspected the identification and handed back the ID.

Archer told him that he was heading to Europe last week for confidential reasons. Damien had worked at Langley longer than the Vietnam War lasted, so he knew that Field Officers couldn't reveal too much of anything.

"It was... eventful," Archer answered, while Damien nodded in understanding.

"Take care." Archer pushed the gas pedal and continued down the road until he parked on the southern parking lot and switched the ignition off. Before getting out of his pickup, Archer adjusted the rearview mirror to where he could see himself. He slicked his blonde hair back from where it had fallen in front of his right eyebrow and mentally prepared himself to go in. "Showtime," he sighed.

***

Archer rushed through the door of the main entrance while slipping on his ID lanyard. The unchanged tile floor bore the seal of its respected Agency: Central Intelligence Agency, United States of America.

The surging headache he had gained from being hungover had worsened his mood.

After the debacle in Ukraine, the higher-ups have been breathing down the Studies and Observations Group's neck. They had called a meeting at 8:45 am, and it was currently: 8:48. Shit, he picked up the pace. Continuing down the hallway to the Situation Room, Archer passed several analysts that were oblivious to the peril the nation could be in.

Archer exhaled and opened the oak door. On the other side of the door was awaiting the Director of the CIA and the other heads of the agency, various analysts that Archer didn't recognize, talking amongst themselves.

Sitting in the back row was Archer's CIA Handler, Domingo 'Ding' Chavez, who was wearing a two-piece suit, a rare sight. Archer made his way to the back and sat down next to Ding.

Ding joined the Army at 17, seeing that the gang life in LA would end him up in a body bag. After basic training, he served on the Korean border. Once in the middle of the night, Ding intercepted a couple of North Korean infiltrators. Unbeknownst to him, in the foxhole in front of him laid two of his comrades with their throats slit. That was when he realized that his job was no joke. After that, he was recruited by the CIA Special Activities Division and was on the black ops team that carried out attacks on the Medellín Cartel, then was promptly left behind.