Locked With No Key (Rainbow Six Siege OC X Male Reader)

The Eye of the Storm

"You want us to do what?" you exclaimed, stunned at such a wild idea, especially because it came from a mastermind like Harry.

You were in Six's office. He had redecorated it (a touch of new oak here, a few bits of furniture there) but had kept the big stag head above the mahogany desk where you had first signed the paperwork to become part of the team at Rainbow.

The highlight of the room however, was a huge pinboard covered in maps and symbols and hundreds upon hundreds of yellow post-it notes with red ink scribed neatly on each.

Harry's plan, by military standards and the norms of Rainbow, was completely and utterly bonkers. You didn't know all that much about the paperwork side of a mission but judging by the fact that he had literally thrown most of the files into the bin as he had explained the situation sent a clear message to your brain.

"Please, please don't make me explain it again," he muttered, sighing in an exaggerated way at your question.

"I'm a generally broad-minded person, but this is nuts," commented Meghan. She sat in a dark red leather armchair, leaning back with her arms supporting her head. "Why don't we just shoot ourselves and make the job a whole lot quicker?"

"Ya ken, that sounds like a much better idea," acknowledged Seamus as he leant against a wall in the far right-hand corner next to the door.

Gus made a non-committal sound of agreement, his tree-trunk forearms folded as he stood in silence.

"I've done worse," shrugged Bel, not looking up from her carving. You knew she had seen some shit, Operation Limelight and the like, so you weren't that surprised by her answer. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed and continued to carve the wooden ornament she had been working on for months. It had taken shape quite a bit; now it resembled a tooth with intricate patterns etched carefully into it.

"That's my girl!" you exclaimed, bending down and rubbing her shoulders affectionately. "Tough as nails."

She stuck her middle finger up, but even that gesture couldn't wipe the cheeky grin off your face.

"With all due respect sir, this may not be a risk worth taking. To put the lives of four operatives on the line only for four to be recovered..." Meghan trailed off, "It just sounds bad all round the board."

"Even in the worse possible outcome, there is still technically no loss," noted Six.

"That's still four operators dead! That's still four too many! Those numbers, they're real people sir, you can't just act like-"

"Calm down," demanded Harry while he made himself a new cuppa. "Anyone else for tea?"

The only sound you could hear in the office was Bel's persistent carving.

"No one?" he offered. "You know, I think you, and everyone here, could learn a lot from (Y/N) about a positive outlook on a situation. If we accomplish our goal, if we succeed, not only do we have four of our best assets back, but the White Masks become a threat no longer. Think about how beneficial that is for the future of our world, about how important it is that the coming generations live in a world without constant terrorist threat.

"It sounds almost like a fantasy, does it not? Fantasy is often the reality not yet realised. I might put that on a t-shirt," he mused, slurping his freshly brewed tea with vigour.

"Look mon ami," Gustav said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I think this mission is a good idea, but I would not do it this way."

"If you have a better plan, I'd simply love to here it."

"I... I think..," the French man stumbled. "Oh va te faire foutre."

"Then it is settled. Go on, back to your quarters before I burn you along with the rest of the legalities," Six joked, laughing only slightly at his own joke.