Author's Note: Losing muse for a story suuuccckksss. I'll work on my RWBY story more when I get the muse for it back. Until then enjoy this Resident Evil story.~
Disclaimer: All pre-existing characters belong to the respective creators.
A hand, quick and steady, shuffled through papers before dragging out the thin folder tucked deep into the pile. Fingers slammed it to the desk, snapping it open in the process.
"This-" A cold voice started, pausing as a long finger gestured to something on the open page. "-only dictates a small section of our findings, William."
The hand shifted through the pages, eyes devouring each one before shutting the file.
"We have next to nothing on Alex nor anything of substance."
William, the man leaning against the closed door, shrugged his shoulders. "You say that like I know something. If I recall correctly.. You-" He made an elegant hand sweep towards his blonde friend. "-were part of the same project. You have more ties to him than I."
The taller man scowled. "We can assume he has covered every track. He did not learn that from Spencer."
A chuckle from the shorter brown-haired scientist. "Agreed, Spencer was always sloppier then he would have loved to believe. But my knowledge of the boy is less than you. If I was told anything of the matter you'd be well aware of it years ago." William claimed, his brown eyes holding a trace of humor.
"Mm." The tall man turned away, tugging out another folder that he carefully set down beside Alex's. The way he did this one contained less restrained anger and more distracted thoughts. "This folder is everything on Project Wesker Children." He confided almost distantly, his mind shifting through past memories, trying to find something he had perhaps missed. Something crucial, relevant, a lead.
"Al, you've been searching for the boy for almost three years now. He is likely dead." William crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I still don't understand how any of this is linked to my missing daughter."
"Explain this." From within his coat he pulled what looked like mail and held it out. William crossed the room and accepted it, sliding out the folded content. "I was given this by HUNK."
"Gasmask playing messenger?" William peered up to the blonde, arching a brow.
"It was sent to him and he brought it straight to me."
The brunette rolled his eyes, the thought 'it could be fake or a sick joke' flashing across his mind. He returned to opening the letter and laid down the envelope on the desk between them. His eyes carefully read each word, flicking faster as they widened.
He opened his mouth, shocked eyes gazing at the blonde on the other side of the desk.
"This.. can't be."
The tall man came around to his side, gesturing to the date printed in small text at the top. "Will, this is dated after Raccoon City, after the bomb, after your death." He said coldly. "Sherry was alive, as you remember, but vanished after Mr. Kennedy saw fit to place her in government care. Someone got to her before we could. It explains why there were no files on her during that period."
"They were wiped.." William breathed in a soft voice.
"Indeed." A voice came from the doorway, an eavesdropper that had apparently opened the door silently and had stood there for several minutes.
The pair turned, having had their backs to the door for the brief time, to see Annette staring at them. She had gotten older, her once dark hair now trimmed with grey strands and blonde highlights. Her face, however, had new black glasses that shielded hard eyes and her face held a frown. She had a light dusting of makeup.
"Hun, I don't think-" William Birkin, the dark haired scientist began, his hand shifting to try to hide the note.
"Show me." The woman, his wife, started, leaving no room for him to debate. Her mouth had curled down into a deep scowl.
William sighed as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She moved to him and he held out the note.
She, being different from her husband, read the letter out loud for emphasis.
"I'm writing this letter to gain awareness; not as a show of power or to cut where it hurts. No, my intentions are simplistic. Spencer is dead, everyone who is anyone knows just who ended the man's life. However what isn't known is the lives of Annette and William, both salvaged from the remains of Raccoon City to be tucked deeply into hiding and comfort." She started, reading each line with a monotone voice.
"Umbrella lies in ruin, a hollow grave to it's former power. It has become wrecked, tarnished and scarred. Worthless. But I, one who was born into it, seeks to redeem it. As such I have taken measures I deem worth my effort. I have managed to come across one Sherry Birkin. As aware of her parents being among the living I wish to return her, having taken care of her these last few years as a way to use this card. I want Umbrella."
Annette's eyes narrowed.
"Wesker has since taken all assets of it, gripped it in his fist and has begun to restore it's respect piece by broken piece. New leadership is needed. Give me Umbrella.. and you can have Sherry. Attached is proof along with a number to call."
A picture was placed beneath it, showing a much older smiling version of Sherry, her arm slung around a giant brown teddy bear that was the size of her. Beneath it was a seven digit number in bold. She gripped the paper before throwing it back at William who scrambled to catch it and smooth out the wrinkles.
"This is a load of SHIT." She snarled. "Some lunatic has my daughter and they want a company in return?" She focused her eyes on Albert Wesker, the infamous blonde standing just a few feet away. "What do YOU plan to do about this?"
Wesker felt a smirk tip his lips up a bit on the edge. "Perhaps a call is in order." He took the paper from Birkin and snapped out his phone, keying in the digits before hitting call, handing him back the paper and pressing the phone to his ear. He half turned away, waiting for the dial to kick in.
After two rings a voice promptly answered the phone, a low rumbling laugh slicing into it. "My, it seems you WOULD call at such a late hour."
A glance to his wrist watch informed him it was a quarter past 11 at night. He slid his free hand into his pocket.
"Either way. As you're aware by now I have the girl, you have the company. Seems like a fair trade. A dying, corrupted company for the life of your godchild." The voice, a male, stated almost dryly now.
Wesker felt his lips twitch, the smirk gone.
"You say that as if you have the interest in restoring Umbrella." Wesker coldly said.
Another chuckle filled the phone. William and Annette had moved closer to listen in as Wesker slightly held it away from his ear.
"One of many plans in fruition. This transaction can either go smoothly and you get the girl in full health, I get the company, win-win for both parties. You can deny me and receive her body in.." A pause. "..two days, in various containers.. To which I will strip all of the power you have in Umbrella and take it by force in response. That choice-" He paused again, another amused laugh filling the air. "-is entirely up to you, Annette and William." He spoke slightly louder at their names, indicating he was aware of their presence in the room.
Wesker hit the speaker button and set the phone onto the desk, his anger spiking as he clenched his hands.
Annette came closer, crouched beside the phone, and growled; "I'd rather you just release my daughter to me before I rip your god damn throat out."
A scowl could be heard in the man's voice. "If it were that easy I'd be dead years ago. Nice try, Annette. This isn't on your terms. Now, dearest Albert, are you still listening or has he stormed off in anger?" A long pause.
"What." Albert Wesker demanded, his tone ice.
"Do you agree to the terms?"
A beep came from somewhere in Wesker's pocket. The pager he had. "I know your game. And here's my response." He tapped the 'end call' button, effectively ending the call.
Annette flinched, jerking back. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID?" She grabbed Wesker's lab coat, clenching the material in her fists.
"Ann-"
"Mrs. Birkin." Wesker's tone was a block of frozen irritation. "Let go and think for a moment. Would he kill the only thing he could bargain with? We are merely calling his bluff as well as showing this is not a negotiation." He glanced to William, pulling out the pager to hold it up. "HUNK has already traced the call." Annette let go, stepping back.
He scanned the coordinates listed and a smile flickered for a second across his face. "We have where the call connected to."
Annette folded her arms, huffing out a breath. "Then what are we waiting for?"
Wesker lifted his phone, selecting a person from his list and hit call. HUNK's voice answered immediately; "Are we to converge on the location?"
"Yes. I want all of ALPHA sent." Wesker ordered.
Three hours later they were being sent to a remote location that was relatively 30 miles from the desolate plain of Raccoon City, up by the mountains in a forested area. William and Annette had stayed back at the facility, eager to continue research while allowing Wesker to handle the rescue of their daughter.
HUNK had prepared everything, weapons, the chopper, the men. Wesker had already met up with them and planned to tag along, the massive Hawk-class chopper landing in a barren field. HUNK made hand gestures, ALPHA slipping out the doors the second they opened.
"Confirm status." HUNK hissed into his comm, everyone hearing it.
"Ready." A chorus of voices, one by one, whispered into his ear before the low voice of Wesker also made a confirmation.
"Target is Alex Wesker. Status is unknown. Rescue of one Sherry Birkin, from the mission details you read on the flight. She is to be unharmed. Any potential threat drop on indication of resistance." HUNK snapped commands, his men flanking through the woods in a wave. They fanned out, covering a great distance around the designated coordinates. At the center was apparently a long steel structure that led underground according to the scan of the area they had performed upon landing. "If possible capture of Alex is requested. If too great a threat eliminate. Confirm."
Everyone understood.