Author's Note: Greetings all. Just recently jumped into this fandom and find the characters of Leon and Ada to be fascinating. I've read and respect the works of the famous Ada Adore and hope to do our beloved duo justice in this story. Enjoy the ride.

Prologue

UNDERNEATH THE RUINS OF A DEAD CITY

Ada Wong

She stepped into the silent room. All around, machines hummed and monitors glowed with complicated data. Her eyes took stock of all this, not really taking in any of it – just making sure that everything was normal, everything was in its place. After affirming that none of the equipment was malfunctioning, a sigh of relief escaped her lips, shoulders relaxing from released tension.

For once, she wasn't in trouble. There were no shadowy agents chasing her; there were no mindless, shuffling infected gnashing their bloodied jaws; no monstrous B.O.W.'s getting in her way. Most of her adult life had been faced with some sort of ridiculous danger after the next, with the whole world seemingly against her on some days. That last part had become reality in recent days – despite having cleared her name, which had been associated with a major act of bio-terrorism in China, an international bounty still existed on her head from a previous assignment.

Ada Wong sighed inwardly. As far as she was concerned, she had been downgraded from Number One most wanted to Number Two. So much for my reputation of keeping low-key, she thought. Her employers had become more cautious in giving out assignments, and the boring stretches between jobs were getting longer and longer.

It made sense, though. Spies weren't supposed to be world famous – or infamous, in the case of Ada Wong.

No, the most pressing matter on Ada Wong's mind was the silent figure floating inside of a large, water filled tank. Ada stepped closer to the tank and placed a hand on the chilly glass. Doing so cleared her mind, and she gazed into the tank at the figure's sleeping face, utterly peaceful, free of all the problems that came with the living.

"Almost there," she whispered. And it was true; Ada's goal had never been closer within her grasp. In the dim lighting, she managed to catch a glimpse of her face: pinched, drawn tight with weariness and stress. She was being hunted; the certainty of it was confirmed in her constantly tingling danger sense every time she stepped out into the open. These days Ada was constantly looking over her shoulder, and it was making her weary. Being vigilant and alert every second of every day was necessary, but as any good agent knows, downtime was needed to retain the sharpness integral to surviving in this business.

Sharpen a blade too much and in the end you aren't left with anything. It cracks or disintegrates entirely.

But her tiredness was irrelevant – now wasn't the time to be getting soft-hearted. She was close to finishing and making good on her promise made a lifetime ago.

Ada Wong finished what she started, with or without help. Always had, always will.

I'm the real Ada Wong! I don't need anyone's help!

She winced at the sudden memory. Carla's little doppelganger act, annoying as it was, had been far from being truly Ada. But at the end, certain things she said had hit a nerve.

Anyway, there would be time for rest afterwards, long days of sleeping in, lounging in the sun, spending time with –

Ada shut down that last thought. I must be really tired if that's what I'm thinking about.

Her communicator chimed. Ada glanced at the Caller ID before answering.

The person on the other end of the line was terse and brief. "Yes, I'm available." She listened intently for the next minute.

"I can leave within the hour," she replied. The call ended.

Ada felt the familiar mix of emotions wash over her at the prospect of a new job – along with an unfamiliar sense of melancholy. If everything went to plan, this would be the last one. She would finish this and keep her promise.

However she could. Whatever the cost.

Ada strode towards the exit, but hesitated at the last step. She turned to for a last look at the silent, sleeping occupant of the water tank, focusing on the face. A face that was peaceful, almost deathly so if it weren't for the occasional twitch of the lips or eyes that indicated otherwise.

A face that was her own, but not.

"Soon," she said and left.

LEON'S APARTMENT

Leon S. Kennedy

"Damn it!" The curse left Leon S. Kennedy's mouth in a loud snarl. He watched blood drip from the cut on his cheek into the sink in big, red droplets. His dog, Lana, poked her head around the bathroom door, curious at the noise.

Leon set down his razor and began rummaging around the drawers looking for gauze to stem the flow of blood. Lana perched herself at his feet, her jaw opening in a big doggie grin. He gave her an affectionate squeeze on the ear. "Glad to see someone's having fun at my expense," he muttered.

"Oh, she's not the only one," said a sly voice. Leon jerked in surprise – which caused blood to spill all over the bathroom counter. His eyes located the source of the voice, issued from his communicator lying on the counter (untouched by the blood drops, thankfully). The screen featured the amused face of Ingrid Hunnigan.

"Good morning Leon."

Leon found some gauze and slapped it over the cut, and tried to think of a polite response this early in the morning. "Hunnigan," he replied. "Go away. I can't stand the sight of you."

"I've got news for you, Leon," she continued, ignoring his remark.

Leon sighed inwardly. He gathered some paper towels and began to wipe clean the bathroom counter. "What is it? Another mission?"

Hunnigan grinned. "Nope."

He waited for her to continue. Hunnigan continued to grin at him from his communicator.

Dressed only in his boxers, bleeding from a cut on his cheek, this early in the morning, Leon felt old. "I'm hanging up now."

"Alright, alright. No, it's not a mission. I've been doing as you asked, and I think I found her."

Leon paused mid-wipe. His dog Lana cocked her head at him, sensing his sudden interest and sense of excitement. He picked up his communicator and looked at Hunnigan properly. "Where?" he asked, keeping his tone calm.

"On an island, in the middle of the Atlantic."

"That's it?" Leon could not keep his sense of disappointment at bay.

Hunnigan arched an eyebrow. "You know her better than anyone, Leon. She's a hard woman to find. And I've been kept busy since the Simmons Incident. This was all done on my own free time."

Leon ran a hand through his hair, a sense of chagrin quickly filling him. He should have known better than to question Hunnigan's capabilities. She'd had his back since his early days of being a government agent fighting bio-terrorism. Leon might be the one fighting on the front lines against all the B.O.W.'s loosed against innocents, but it was people like Hunnigan that made sure that he had the best equipment and knowledge to bring against those monstrosities. Forewarned is forearmed, the old saying went, and Hunnigan was one of the best at what she did, as experienced in the process of information gathering as Leon was in fighting.

Recent events however had brought Ingrid Hunnigan under scrutiny, thanks to the machinations of Derek Simmons. The fact that she had worked personally for him during the Tall Oaks Incident, which had been enacted under his orders and resulted in the deaths of the President and thousands of others, caused investigators to question whether or not she really knew what was going on. Despite the testimonies of Agent Helena and Leon himself providing staunch defense on her behalf, saying that Hunnigan had no choice and no idea what was really going on, investigators continued to make inquiries to this day. It didn't help that Hunnigan gave herself partial blame of the whole affair- it was her job to be on top of sensitive information such as Simmons shady actions at the time, and the fact that she wasn't dealt a significant blow to her confidence.

"Sorry, Ingrid. I appreciate you taking the time to do this for me. I'll make it up to you at some point, I promise."

Hunnigan smirked. "I'll just add it to the tab on our dinner date."

Leon winced. The "dinner date" was a private joke between Leon and Ingrid, a metaphorical date that Leon was supposed to take Ingrid on, when things were quiet, as a way of thanks for having his back all these years. The way she kept adding to the tab, and how frequently, Leon suspected that he would have to declare bankruptcy when the time came.

"You have the coordinates?"

"Of course." She gave it to him and he memorized it.

He thanked her and hung up.

He made sure that Lana was well taken care of at his neighbors, a friendly elderly couple that he ran errands for as thanks for always taking care of his beloved dog for him while he was away. Leon said his goodbyes and made his way to a local, private airport. He would be acting alone, without the sanction of his agency – technically he was supposed to be on vacation, and besides, they were busy with other things.

Outside his apartment he hailed for a taxi. One came, the driver a bearded, portly fellow with a cheerful attitude. "Where to, boss?"

Leon gave him the address and they were off. He checked his bag again making sure he hadn't forgotten anything when a peculiar object caught his eye.

Ada's compact. He took it out, ran his fingers over its smooth, white surface. Like its owner, its pretty surface was deceptive and there was usually more to it than what met the eye. Leon reflected on it, and more importantly, what he had put inside it after Helena had given it to him.

For the next time you see her.

Leon smiled.

"Not yours, I take it?" Leon looked up to find the cabbie glancing through the rearview mirror.

Leon replied, "No, definitely not. Doesn't match my color." The cabbie snorted.

"Belong to a special lady friend then?"

Leon considered for a while. The cabbie chuckled. "No need to answer. I know that feeling."

"Do you? How'd you deal with it?"

The cabbie raised his hand in answer. A ring gleamed in the morning light on one of his fingers.

Leon sat back. "Huh. Good answer."

Musing to himself, Leon closed his eyes. It would be at least twenty minutes till the airport and considering the fact that he was chasing Ada Wong (again) this would be the last good bit of rest he would get for awhile.

Ada Wong. When he found her, he hoped that she would listen to what he had to say.

"Soon," he said and dozed off.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed and look forward to the first chapter of "Bastion". I've got a wicked ride planned for these two. Lend me your reviews and thanks again.

Sincerely,

ShiningScribbler