DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Resident Evil or the characters, organizations and anything else found in the games or books, it belongs to Capcom and S.D Perry respectively. Nor do I own any brand names that are mentioned either.
A/N: This is my first RE fan fiction don't treat it too harshly, though flames are welcome. The characters here are some from previous RE games that have in fact died, but try to ignore that fact. C'mon people, its fan fiction!
The green eyes stared back at her accusingly as she fastened the holster to her leg. The cold metal buckle holding the straps together pressed against her bare thigh, sending a shiver up her spine. She slipped her hand gun into the holster and twirled elegantly, watching herself in the full-sized mirror as her dress slipped over the gun hiding it. She smiled to her reflection, who still stared back, mimicking her actions perfectly. She allowed her hand to waver over the scotch bottle for a moment, then shrugged and left it there. She moved to her dressing table, sitting before it like some star at a show, and looking at her young face in the oval reflective glass before her. She applied little make up, and when she did it was for formal occasions such as this one. Three years had passed since her last assignment with Albert Wesker, and in that she had failed him; although, he didn't know that. The sample she had sent had been a fake, and Ada Wong prized herself on that. The organization had recently bought up Harvard Chemical Foundation, and Ada recently found out that Wesker, in the long run was working for the Organization. She smiled to herself in the mirror, stood and turned towards the door of her hotel room. She wrenched it open and walked out into the open, her hips swaying as she did.
The walk down the corridor didn't put her off much, nor did the fact that she was going to a prestigious ball. Though, that was a bad term. During a court case, the multi-billion air company, Umbrella had been reopened. The Umbrella was unfurled once more, and Ada Wong was going to scope out the party. She walked down stairs and out of the swinging doors and nodded to the bell man, who clicked his fingers. A black limousine pulled up and Ada smiled broadly. Wesker certainly did know how to treat a lady, Ada thought as she climbed in gracefully.
"Hello, ma'am; my name is James Mortimer and I'll be your driver tonight."
Mortimer? That name sounded so familiar. Ada looked through to the front of the limousine and saw smiling back at her, a brown haired man who struck her as looking remarkably like Tom Cruise. She cocked her head to one side, frowning a little. He looked so familiar, apart from looking like tom Cruise. His hair fell down to his shoulders and he had the starting of a beard forming about his face. He grinned, realising her thoughts.
"I was a bit more blood covered when we last met. Twice now, we've been in the same helicopter Ms. Wong. You may know me as Mr. Death, or even HUNK."
Ada clicked and she smiled. First a limousine and now one of the most deadly killers hired by the Organization; all to take her to her destination. She wondered if she'd be asking for to much to see if he would also be accompanying her to the dance.
'Well, Cinderella… you will go to the ball.'
The man grinned and spread his arms out as the black car pulled up in front of him. The door opened some how, even though the only occupant was sat on the side furthest from it. Deciding not to press the matter further, he stepped towards the limousine and extended a gloved hand. A tanned one met his and he helped Ada from the car, in a gentlemanly fashion though she didn't need any help from him. She stopped as she saw him.
"I thought you were dead."
"Go figure," he replied with a smile. "I'll be you date this evening Ms. Wong."
"Wonderful. I was looking for a man to appreciate me and instead got one obsessed with himself."
"Now, now Ms. Wong; there's no need to be jealous of natural beauty."
She sighed and accompanied him inside, hanging to his arm like a good woman should at such occasions. She sighed to herself as she moved inside and stepped into the wide open area, spiting the return to Umbrella. At the top table sat three men and a woman. She recognized one of the men instantly, and she glared.
"What's she doing here?"
"Huh? Oh, you mean Ms. Fongling? Well, she helped Mr. McGivern rebuild Umbrella."
"Fuck… I need a drink, Duvall, lets go find a waitress."
So, arm in arm with the white haired Morpheus Duvall she walked across the room to the drinks area. Literally downing three whiskey shots without so much as a word, she stared around the room.
"So, when's the party gonna crash?"
Morpheus shot her a smile and indicated the massive window behind the four delegates who run Umbrella Inc. She smiled and reached to her thigh, unclipping the safety catch. She waited and heard Morpheus utter 'Go'. All hell broke loose.
Through the door they came charged Hunk leading a group of men in UBSS suits, and through the window crashed Prototype Beta, the second form of Tyrant. The beast crashed down behind the four delegates and slammed a fist through Bruce McGivern. Fongling raised a hand and cried out, but Ada began her run. She kicked a waiter aside and snatched up his tray, throwing it at Fongling. The woman was knocked from her feet as the Tyrant swung at her. She stared at Ada and smiled her thanks… until a bullet smashed into her face, ending her life in a split second. Morpheus was beside her, a magnum revolver in his hand. He quickly shot the third delegate and aimed at the fourth, but the Tyrant stepped into the shot. Morpheus cursed and waited. The Tyrant wasn't attacking! It turned slowly and the fourth delegate appeared at its side.
"Who is he?"
"His name is Raymond Spencer… He's the last surviving heir of the Spencer name."
The man chuckled and pointed at Ada and Morpheus directly. His suit was a crème white and his boots black. His tie was red and had fluff about the corner, like an old 17th century jacket. Ada scoffed at his apparent lack of any fashion sense.
"Kill them… Both of them."
Ada gasped and Morpheus swore. Tyrant advanced on them, its huge claw rising. It was dressed in a leather trench coat, and had the usual lips cut away. Both eyes were intact and his head was shaved. He stopped a few feet away, and glared at them.
"It's gonna charge!"
Morpheus raised the magnum and blasted off a shot that took the Tyrant in the face. Ada snapped into action a second later and shot the thing dead in the chest. Suddenly, an arm was on her shoulder and pulled her back, as with Morpheus. They stood behind seven heavily armed UBSS men. Hunk smiled at the Tyrant and raised a fist.
"Blow this bio-genetic freak to hell!"
As the machine gun fire poured onto the Tyrant, Morpheus folded his arms and pouted.
"I resent that."
Ada smiled and motioned for the exit. The nod was returned and the two set off. Even as they did a figure stepped from the door way, holding a berretta. Ada stopped dead and saw it was Spencer.
"You'll not get out of here alive, Ms. Wong. Or you, Duvall."
Morpheus raised the magnum, but a shot blasted it from his hands. He stared around wildly and saw a smiling man standing in the door way. He was huge, almost six and a half feet tall, with a red beret and an ammo strap across his chest and a desert eagle clamped tightly in his hands.
"Well, well... if it isn't the bitch in the red dress…"
"Krauser..."
The man advanced and Morpheus stared at him. He had read the file concerning Jack Krauser, and for a man who was shot to death and blown up, he as looking good.
"I thought you died on the island," Morpheus said, in a bored voice, as if he were discussing something like the weather. Krauser stopped and laughed giving a nod.
"When dear, Ada… huh… killed me she actually ripped Las Plagas from my body. It hurt… ohh… it hurt a lot! Mr. Spencer here saved me, however. I'm back, Ada… meaner, faster, stronger… a new man so to speak."
"Wonderful, Jacky-boy, now lets say we kill one another, huh?"
Spencer shook his head and smiled. He and Krauser stepped back and over the heads of Ada and Morpheus a shadow passed, crashing in front of them. Tyrant. Ada swore and raised her hand gun, as Spencer and Krauser walked out. Ada knew they'd have to deal with Tyrant, but not so soon. She saw Hunk standing pressing a gauze to his stomach, holding his machine gun in one hand.
"Bastard killed my squad. Good men… Ada, go. Blondie and I can take care of this thing."
Morpheus shot him a look at being called Blondie, but nodded to Ada. Ada, biting her lip for a moment, nodded and went over to the back of the room. She used her grapple-gun and was out the window. Morpheus sagged in relief.
"I was wondering when she'd leave. Stand back, Mr. Death."
Hunk nodded and kicked over one of the ornate tables, crouching behind praying that it was wooden. There was the sound of flesh being pulled and stretch and the guttural groaning and screeching of a man in pain. Hunk forced himself not to look, until the soft feminine voice rang over the area, the metallic tinge giving it that hint of pure terror.
"Okay, you test tube freak… Let's go!"
Morpheus Duvall had changed considerably in those few seconds between falling to the floor and rising back up. He was taller for one thing, now reaching the other tyrants shoulders at about seven feet tall. He was slimmer too, his face of a beautiful woman's and his body coated in a thick metallic hide. His, or her, or perhaps its body crackled with raw, unchecked electricity. His slender limbs were crackling and he raised a long arm trusting it forwards, fist curled into Tyrants face. The huge beast staggered at the blow, but thrust its own hand in retaliation, sending Morpheus reeling across the room. Morpheus flipped its feet and snatched up a metal pole lying on the ground. Well, a metal pole to him, but it was more like half a streetlight. He swung it at Tyrant, smashing the huge metal into its head. Tyrant staged as another blow hit its chest dead centre, missing its exposed heart by inches. The third blow crashed into its arm, and the fourth was caught clean in its right hand. He jerked it, gripping it tightly, and Morpheus grinned.
"Hey, Hunk, how do you like your Tyrant?"
"Deep-fried!"
"I was hoping you'd say that…"
Morpheus' body cracked with electricity again, its arms becoming white as they super-charged. Tyrant just stared blankly, wondering what was going on, right up until the same energy that powered Vegas ran through its body, coursing its atoms and tearing its molecular structure to pieces like being hit with super-charged electricity – which was exactly what was happening.
As Hunk moved around the table, he saw Morpheus standing back as a human in his pants and jacket, holding a deformed metal rod. It dropped to the floor wit a clang, and landed in slush and mess, which used to be a Tyrant.
"Shit… How'd you--"
"Never mind that; we need to go. Chopper?"
"On the roof, man."
The two of them ran over to the ornate elevator and got inside. As they pressed the button to go up, they could hear the sirens on the air. Morpheus smiled and Mr. Death merely stared. As they ran onto the roof, they caught site of the helicopter. Hunk was in first, Morpheus right behind him. The pilot turned, and Morpheus smiled. It was Ada.
"Where do you boy's wanna go?"
"Did they succeed?"
"Yes, the enemy Tyrant was destroyed by Agent Duvall."
"Excellent."
The two stared at one another across the table and it was obvious the animosity that existed there. The two hated each other, it was clear but neither would admit it. For to give into anger, and hate, required giving into passion. That was something, neither would ever do. The blond removed his sunglasses and sighed heavily.
"Intel tells us they're going for a European city. Most likely as small a one as they can, without spreading the Virus too much."
"I'll run a list, Albert. In the meantime, assemble your team. We need to be ready for Zero-hour."
Wesker nodded, and stood up from the table. He hated the man across from him, but the man was the only one with enough Intel and power to destroy Umbrella once and for all.
It was strange how Wesker was doing precisely what he had tried to stop Chris Redfield from doing those years previous. All those fights, battles and wars between the two and no one ever stopped to think how they must feel killing one another.
"We were friends once, Redfield… Where are you?"
A/N: Well, that's the prologue. Reviews are welcome (begs) and questions will be answer, though most likely only in the story.