Prologue
Ashley rode quietly in the back seat of the SUV sent to pick her up at the airport. With her hands folded across her lap and her head bowed, she might have been sleeping. It was fine with her if Agent Peters thought that. She wanted to be left alone in her thoughts for a while. Truth be told, she was tired after the nearly full day of traveling she'd had to endure to get home. First she had the manic jet ski ride with Leon, then a helicopter with a pilot who seemed intent on making her airsick flew her to an airport in Europe, where she boarded a military jet. Strapped into a seat with cargo mesh, she had felt her stomach rise into her throat at takeoff. Landing hadn't been all that bad, but her butt was sore. The plus, heated seats of the SUV helped, and she finally felt like she was back in a place where she belonged.
Her thoughts were a swirling mass of memories of the past few weeks. She could recall everything that she had seen and done and been subjected too clearly;-whether that was good or bad she wasn't sure. To her amazement, she'd hadn't been raped, which was probably why her mind was intact.
But I've seen people murdered in front of me. I've seen people turn into monsters, unafraid of death or anything else. I was nearly blown up on that island. But I'm alive. Somehow, I'm alive.
Ashley turned to look out the window, pressing one hand to the glass. Her reflection greeted her. She was filthy; she probably smelled. Her clothes were tattered, and she was covered in scratches and bruises.
Even so, a smile crossed her face. It was a small smile that stood in defiance of the years of therapy to come. Most people didn't have their own personal superhero. But after seeing Leon Kennedy in action, Ashley was sure she did. Or maybe he was a guardian angel, sans wings.
He shot down my 'hero gets the girl' proposal. Probably because of that slut in the red dress, a catty corner of her mind intoned. I don't know if I'll ever see Leon again, but I won't be useless next time.
"Agent Peters?" she asked her driver, finding a strength in her voice that surprised her.
"Yes, Ms. Graham?"
"…If I wanted to start training…you know, martial arts. Guns. Weight lifting…could you help me get started on some kind of program?"
Agent Peters looked back at her. He was in his mid-thirties, with a wife and a young daughter he spoke of all the time. He was also a retired Marine Corps Colonel.
"Ms. Graham, I'm not sure your father would approve of that…"
Ashley surprised her self again. "What my father doesn't know won't hurt him, Agent Peters. And besides…he wasn't there. He didn't see what I saw…"
Agent Peters returned his focus to the road in front of him.
"We'll start when you're ready, Ms. Graham."