Author's Note

I’m not really sure how this one will turn out. I am feeling uncertainty about this first chapter and how it has been written (working 70 hours a week for two months straight has taken a toll on my creativity), but I do feel that it is at least good enough for now.

Please let me know what you think! There will be more chapters in the future, but I cannot make guarantees on the frequency, as I have been very, very busy as of late.

DISCLAIMER: There are a lot of tags on this story as you have probably discovered, even though not everything featured in the tags is reflected in this first chapter. What I have rated this story as and what tags I have selected are applicable to what I expect to include in the story at some point in some chapter, but specifics have not yet been drafted. If, at he completion of this story, not all of the tags are utilized, I will remove them.

To those who do not know, Maxim Basuda is the name of the Operator named “Kapkan” in the Ubisoft game “Rainbow Six: Siege.” I DO NOT own Kapkan or Rainbow Six: Siege, and do not claim them. The use of Kapkan as a character is purposed for entertainment only, and not for any marketing or otherwise monetary purpose.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Memories of Death

Blood.

A red liquid that pulses through everyone. It sustains the very force of life under which we are able to survive, carrying vitality to every crevice of our fragile bodies.

Pain.

A reaction of the nerves to warn our brains that something has damaged our body. Our instincts tell us to pull away when pain is experienced, so that we may continue living in this hellish world.

Death.

A vast plain of unknowns that have been speculated about for as long as humanity has existed. To put it simply, death is what is experienced when our bodies can no longer sustain the processes by which we survive. Death can come in several forms, several instances, and in several situations; but the end result is always the same.

I crawled with great difficulty toward the doorway, pain shooting through my limbs with every movement and straining of muscles, blood pouring from my wounds as I did so. It would not take a genius for someone in my situation to know that death was near at hand; its icy breath creeped down my neck and shook my very soul. I let forth several grunts as I moved another few inches, a warm trickle now running down my arms.

Beslan had been a cakewalk compared to what I felt here. First the gunfire, then the screams, now the continuous yelling in languages I do not know and cannot understand. The FSB had been deployed shortly after the police, and after negotiations had failed entirely, a violent struggle erupted. I was among those ordered to storm the building, and now, here I was: covered in my own blood, in severe pain, and on the verge of death… a situation no one covets to be in.

But the end? Here? Now? In this godforsaken café with these godforsaken terrorists? No! I would not allow it. The aid kit on the table was now a mere fifteen meters away. With Herculean effort I strained to pull myself forward again, but as my sharply tingling muscles dragged my limp body forward again, my vision tunneled greatly. “Der’mo!” I said, my voice laced with pain and anger.

After half a minute, I had reached the table. I was losing blood faster and faster with every passing second, and thus, my mind focused on nothing but halting the bleeding. I reached an arm up and grasped the edge of the oaken furniture piece, and then hoisted up my other arm once it was securely in place. I prayed a silent prayer for strength, and then with every last ounce of energy I had left, I began to try and lift myself up. I grunted, strained, and gritted my teeth as my muscles fiercely protested their continued use. Although progress was slow, I slowly began to lift myself up. When my chest had reached above the edge of the table, I then took a deep breath and tried to swing my right elbow up and over the table to give myself a better leverage.

But with a sharp smack and a sharper pain, my elbow hit the edge of the table with a great force, causing my left arm to lose its hold and my body careening toward the ground. I cried out in pain as my full weight struck the cold concrete, my blood having painted it a brilliant red. I tried to lift my arms up again… but they would not move; my strength had finally failed me.

“Fucking Caucuses!” I thought with anger. So many lives had been extinguished there… and now, so many lives were being extinguished here. The sins of our fathers were now coming to bear on their sons, and here I stood now taking the consequences for actions that were not my own. My life was now the sum total of the greed, ineptitude, and poor decisions of those who came before me, and I was powerless to stop it.

“Nyet… nyet…” I whimpered, desperately looking around for some other medical kit. None came to my vision, however, and with a defeated and deathly sigh, I let my head rest against the ground. My blackening vision now became darker as my breathing slowed and my heart fluttered, things that would have caused me to panic had I had the energy to do so.

In soft and pained prayer, I let my body finally shut down. Thirty-eight years was only half of what my lifespan was supposed to be, but in the line of work I had chosen, there were many who had fallen younger than I. I briefly remembered their faces, their names, their deeds… and wondered if I would be so remembered as well.

“Maxim…” a lonely, soft, and echoing voice called out to me.

“Hmm?” I hummed in response, too pained and too tired to care to pay attention to the fact that nobody was in the room with me or even the room adjacent.

“Your story is not over, Maxim…” the voice gently called again. Strangely, with every syllable, the voice seemed to calm me and soothe my sharp aches, making my mind race around what or who it could possibly be or who it could belong to.

“But I lay in a pool of my own blood on the floor of terrorist infested building,” I said, my voice beginning to slur. “How is this not the end for me?”

“You are needed elsewhere,” the voice whispered, sounding much closer this time. With an array of vivid colors flashing before me, my vision no longer darkened, but was now replaced with a great and blinding light.

“Who is this? Who is there?” I asked, my voice had a slight tinge of panic to it as I heard what sounded like the clopping of horse hooves approaching me.

“You will know soon enough…” A figure now appeared, blurry and hazy. I could just vaguely make out the shape of two unfurled snow-colored wings.

“What… who… why…” was all I could manage to say before my eyes closed. My breathing slowed, and my body relaxed, the terrible pain that had once gripped me now fading. With one last sigh, I prepared myself for what I thought would be the inevitable embrace of death…

...Except it never came.