Author's Note: All these characters do not belong to me (most are CAPCOM's), even the baddies-if you're smart you may have spotted some references to some other movie or comic book villains, but it isn't that obvious really. And if you've read my other fanfic entitled 'Being Ada', you'll notice there are a lot of holes between what happened after RE6 and the fanfic itself. So, this is me, doing some plumbing work to patch up some of those holes, or at least the first sequence to my timeline of what happened after RE6. Hence, this one shot stars ADA WONG as the protagonist. It takes place before everything from 'Being Ada' to the 'Degrading Conscience' fanfic which would explain most of the things to those of you who feel lost in what I'm trying to write from the start.
(NOTE: If you did read my 'Crossbows and Zombies' series, I would like to congratulate you because I was mostly playing a fool with that but it does aid with my writers block most of the time, so I'm still continuing. IF YOU HAD NEVER GAVE A DAMN FROM THE START, THIS MESSAGE IS IRRELEVANT)
Give me some credit people, I'm actually a very lazy person in real life. : D
Delusional Deliriums
Ada Wong was not only just a spy.
She was a damn good one.
After some time in her field work she'd started to realise that some things do tend to get a little old. First, there were always the constant amounts of Bio-Organic Weapons tossed at her direction. That she could deal with. The second, there was always a deeper conspiracy going about and it would always give her a bad migraine if she'd dwelt on it. Then, there were the bad guys, who think that they were the bosses but they didn't know that they were just down the food chain. There was always someone higher up who was watching, always wanting to play more games. She'd thought after dealing with Simmons, she could have a break from her old life, cutting ties with all her old contacts. But as per usual, she was wrong.
As a spy, she had always had the tendency to encounter the worst people possible. One such was Frank Andru, dubbed the General. He was the kind of man who had Krauser-like qualities but by keeping to his instincts, he wasn't six feet under yet. He was big as a bear, with heavyweight champion muscles bulging out of his security uniform. She had observed him through the security feeds she had hacked from the manor, he was equal in brains and brawns. And she'd thought she could slip past his guard easily.
To be a spy, you must always expect the worst.
Ada had been prepared. That was ten minutes ago, before her back-up plan two and three were foiled.
"Come here, kitten, be good and you won't be lunch for our pets", he rumbled, extending a very large ham fisted hand towards her.
She stood regally before him, giving him a coy smile as her mind ticked away on the possibilities of an escape.
"I don't think so", she mumbled. Gun in hand, she let out a few rounds on the guards around the big man. She was aiming for a kill which meant most of the men around them went down permanently. She nearly finished off her last clip but stopped when she reached the last bullet by estimation. She pointed her gun at the big hairy Russian. Then she considered herself, other hand reached for her grapplehook gun, aiming it at him too.
"So, long, Andruskevitch, I really do hope there's an afterlife for you", she was ready to pull the trigger of both weapons.
In a swift motion that would be impossible for a man his size, the General swept a hand to the front of her crimson dress, ripped the weapons out of her hands and flipped her sideways roughly. Ada hit the hard wall with bone crunching force, actually feeling a couple of her ribs give way. She laid stunned and breathless as the Russian stood over her.
"You have something in you", he mused, "Let's hope you do not break before I'm finished".
"Do what you want. I can take it", Ada grunted through her gritted teeth and slight concussion.
"We'll see", he rumbled. The butt to her handgun connected to her temple. It was a well-aimed hit, she couldn't recall what happened next but she was in her enemies' hands.
Thus, began her first night in the cold cell of the manor's underground prison.
That was, of course days ago. The General had no longer dealt with her personally nowadays, he'd sent his henchmen instead.
The first time, she remembered, there were three. And she was a little rough around the edges by the time she was done. One with a fractured femur. The second with a dislocated shoulder. Another would be blind in the right eye. And she was just warming up.
The second and last encounter she had with the Russian General was when he had come down to the cells to take care of things himself. He left her with what she thought was to be a sprained wrist and an escalated concussion.
They wanted information. And that was why they'd kept her alive.
All her senses snapped awake as she heard the locks to her cell being unlocked. A man who looked to be in his early twenties came in, the end of a taser aimed at her torso. Then, another came with the interrogation expert, the turncoat Dillard. She got up, her joints aching, she imagined what she would do to them once she got out. Usually she would have felt disgusted with herself, craving to inflict intentional pain. But after what she'd went through, she'd at least deserved a little reward.
"What is your problem, Dillard?" she spat, keeping her back against the wall.
"Let's just say, they won me over with a bonus", the rat said, his arrogant smile was so intolerable that she felt if she would just managed to bash his face in, she would sleep a little soundly tonight. "Now, give us the data you were collecting. Oh, and throw in the name of the agency you're working for and we'll call us even".
"I don't know what you mean", she muttered. Then, she kept her lips pursed throughout the daily questionings. There were the usual. Who was she? Who does she work for? Who were her contact? Blah, blah, blah. She wasn't giving in that easily. They should learn that fact by now.
When Dillard left, she sunk back into a relaxed sitting position.
She had to get out before they'd figure that dumping her body in some isolated woods would be their only solution. But escape seemed a little too impossible. She just needed a distraction.
It took her almost a week to come up with a timeline. The guards rotation. Noting the sloppiest among the men. She managed to get a good look at the lock to her cell. Her cell was big enough to occupy a wild animal comfortably, equipped with enough knock-out gas in case anything held within it misbehaved (she'd learnt that the hard way). It was fully bullet proof glass paneled sides with vertical bars like an actual jail cell. A slot that would fit tray of food could only fit up to her arms, but she wouldn't be able to use that slot unless it was opened from the outside. The security to her cell was tight. It needed a keycard and a pin activated code to get in or out. As a precaution, she was to stay cuffed always.
She could slip out during the night shift.
It would be child's play for her.
She could escape as soon as possible but she needed to get to Dillard when he was unaware of her. She needed her revenge.
It took her a little longer to start cozying up to some of the men. A little small talk, here and there. Of course, having any conversation with Dillard was out of the option. That man was a professional. He could detect her lying within a few seconds. She instead laid low around him, keeping herself unresponsive to his prompts.
She was kept a prisoner for a month and a half before things started to show any sign of progress.
"That would teach you to never rob the resourceful", she chided herself. "Never ever, do this again". She never saw the Russian at all. He must have forgotten her. The bruises from their encounter had faded by the time she'd got word that Mr. Fisk, the owner of the Manor was at the auction that she was supposed to attend in order to lure him into exposure of his role in the trade of BOWs in the black market. He had dodged many of her set-ups and if she had attended this auction, she would have had gotten enough evidence to get it over with. But now it was too late. All the effort of her preparations. Wasted.
"I can't eat this way", she said pitifully, her legs tucked under her as she gazed at her hand cuffed hands to the tray in front of her.
The guard shook his head. "Sorry, miss, can't do that. Orders".
"Please", she added a slight whine to her voice, adding in helplessness. "I can't eat this way anymore. My wrists hurt so much".
The guard let out a heavy sigh. "Alright, but just because no one else is around. Put your hands out".
"Sure, I'll be good", she purred. Extending her hand, she let him take off one cuff, allowing her a moment of freedom. This man was new. He couldn't have seen or heard from the old rotation. She seized her window of opportunity by grabbing the front of the man's uniform and pulling him towards her direction. He slammed face-first on the glass panel. He wasn't unconscious until her third attempt. Before his heavy weight could make her lose hold of his body, she expertly snagged the keycard. Ada let herself out, looking up at the nearest security camera to blow an invisible kiss at it.
She sauntered up the nearest exit to the upper levels of the manor, searching for any sign of that traitorous man. The manor was never as warm as it seemed on the outside. She noticed that every window was secured by a vertical bars that were similar to the cell she was kept in. It sure kept anything from breaking in. At the same time, it hindered her from escaping. She would just have to take the front door later.
She'd remember one of the rooms she had been taken to for questioning. It took her mere seconds to recall the blueprints of the old estate. Second floor, first turn to the right, she padded silently towards her satisfaction. Dillard was going to pay. He had pretended to work with her. She hated being betrayed this way, but it's always a covert world out there. A world full of betrayal and lies.
As she neared the door to the room she'd remembered, she heard noises coming from inside.
"Where is she?" an almost familiar voice demanded.
"Who do you mean?" Dillard shot back, sounding desperate. There was a loud thud and a grunt. She hoped that was the traitor getting trashed back there.
"I know people like you. Tough on the outside, you think you can take in anything", the voice snarled. Another thud. "But you'll be telling all in the end".
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Ada summoned up her courage to peek into the room. What she saw surprised her greatly. There had been a time where encountering Leon Kennedy doing something like that would be impossible, more of something out of nightmare (whose? she wasn't sure). But yet he was here. Dillard was tied up on a chair, for now silent on her great entrance.
"Leon", Ada smiled in relief, but she caught hold on the relief, making her greeting bland to the ear.
"Glad you're alright. I was just finishing up", he said, beckoning at Dillard.
"Good to know", she quirked her lips a little. Dillard didn't look too good. She reached towards Leon as if demanding a hug. Once he'd gotten close enough, she got hold of his gun from his hip holster and fired a shot at the other man.
What was left of Dillard fell backwards, his torso still strapped to the chair.
She looked at Leon, searching for any sign of his reaction to what she had done. Any repulsion. Any disappointment on her actions. Any regret of saving her.
She got nothing.
Only his steely blue eyes staring back at her.
He leaned closer.
She let him.
Click.
Her eyes widened at that sound. She jerked her wrist, her movement restrained by it being attached to one of the bars of the nearest window.
"Leon, what is the meaning of this?" she asked not in anger but amazement. Whatever happened to that cute clueless DSO agent she had left on the ruins of the skyscraper in Lanshiang?
"No more lies", his voice was hard. "No more secrets, Ada".
"Or what? Leon, what are you going to do about it? Shoot me?!" she yelled, frustration edging her voice. She pulled the trigger of the gun in her hand.
Twice.
His Kevlar vest had taken the brunt of the shots but still the impact at such a close range knocked the air out of his lungs. It felt almost like she had dealt him blows to the gut. Ada's lower lip trembled. She kept the gun trained on him. She gave him a moment to straighten up.
"You've already got that covered", he wheezed.
"Fine", she fumed.
"Huh?" he mumbled, inspecting his vest.
"I said fine", she said through gritted teeth. "What do you want to know?"
"Why did Chris say he killed you when obviously you're still alive?" he started. "What is Simmons to you? How the hell could you kill someone in cold blood?"
"That's a good start", she smiled a little.
He stood in front of her, an expecting look on his face.
"Chris killed a scientist called Carla Radames, she had been tottering about calling herself me the whole while. I believe you and Helena did encounter a bit of her before she died", Ada explained. "And Simmons? He's just an old ghost who can't ever forget, nothing to worry about now".
"Oh, I'm worried, Ada. You're putting yourself in too much danger lately", his voice was a little stiff as he reached over and took the gun gently from her.
"Occupational hazard. It goes with my job description", she shrugged.
Looking around, she noticed that there were no alarms being raised on her escape. She raised a silent question to Leon.
"Gassed some of the security on my way in", Leon said, his eyes still not leaving her face.
"Are we going to stay here like sitting ducks until their reinforcements arrive?" she tugged at her cuffs and winced for an extra effect.
"Point taken", he grunted. She watched him search Dillard's body for the spare keys to the cuffs. Once, he'd freed her, she gave him the wryest look possible.
"Something's different, Leon", she remarked. "You've changed".
"You'd wanted me to catch you one day, Ada. So, I'm here", Leon held out a handgun to her. "Are we finally ready to start something together?"
In a manner of a reply, she took the offered firearm. If the man she had waited for was offering himself to her, who was she to say no? At least he'd taken the effort to come all the way here to tell her that. And that was one quality in him that she had always admired. His loyalty.
"Ada", he sounded much happier, well there was a hint of elevation in his voice. She could tell. "Helena said I should save this for the next time I see you".
She looked at the object in her hand. It was part of her 'parting gift' to him from before.
"I'll hold on to it, then", she replied, giving him a sincere smile.
A few weeks later,
"Ada, I'm home", his voice lightened the apartment. Leon hadn't left his day job with the DSO, even when he had went to get her. It amused her to discover that he'd cared enough to carry out an unsanctioned mission to get to her, even if it was with Ingrid Hunnigan's help. The only thing she had lost during her misadventure was the chance to reel in Mr. Fisk.
And the chance to show the Russian bear that she'd meant business the last time.
Now, she had to start over.
Closing all the opened webpages, she immediately cleared the browser's history. She hadn't exactly promised Leon that she would be giving up her old habits even if she would be staying with him in DC for a while. Just that she wouldn't be bringing any sort of danger to their doorstep. After all, she wasn't quite finished yet.
Looking over to make sure that she had never left any sort of stray document anywhere in the study, she went to greet her lover with full enthusiasm.
"Hey, what did you do all day?" she pounced on the opportunity if normalcy. This was the life she sometimes craved for.
"Trained a bunch of new agents, I think they're are going to have a hard time adjusting. You should really see Sherry when she's partially pissed", he chuckled good humoredly. "What about you?"
"Nothing much", Ada shrugged in her most innocent stances.
"Hmph, you should get out more often", he remarked. "Can't always hole up in here".
"And you're right", she sighed. "But later".
He shook his head in resignation. "Ada, what am I going to do with you?"
"Make dinner?" she suggested, pecking a quick kiss on his cheek. "What do we have?"
Leon tossed his jacket on the couch and made his way to the small kitchenette. He rummaged around a little and came up with only two cans of spaghetti. The only reply she gave him was a raised eyebrow.
"Fine", she said. "This is the last can of spaghetti you'll ever eat, mister. I'm doing the cooking and the grocery shopping from now on".
Author's Note: So, there (it was a little too long). What do you think? Still clueless? Tell me about your thoughts on this story, reviews please. : D