Note: I do not own resident evil but I own this plot and some of the characters.
U.S.A.
New York
Manhattan
14 hundred hours

Kevin Ryman stepped out of his car after unlocking the trunk. He removed his groceries and after closing the trunk of his late model ford he began to walk through the apartment parking lot.

"Oh yay microwaveable lasagna and Sam Adams for dinner," he chuckled to himself as he looked down at his newly acquired food, "Dinner for a god damn king. Or a washed up cop." He was almost out of the parking lot and into the lobby when all of a sudden a car entered the parking lot and sped towards Kevin. Kevin filled with fear, stood still un-sure what to do. The car reaches a sudden halt and then pulled into a parking spot.

"Kevin you paranoid son of a bitch," he cursed himself, "get a hold of your self."

A short while later Kevin found himself in the apartment lobby where he was greeted by the building's land lord.

"Hey Ryman," he said nonchalantly.
"Hey," Kevin replied. As the land lord entered the maintenance closet, Kevin hit the call button for the elevator. The doors opened to reveal an attractive oriental woman in a red dress. She walked passed him and Kevin walked in the elevator pressing the '4' button. The doors began to close and the woman gave him a smile before entering the same maintenance closet as the land lord. Kevin squinted his eyes and tried to focus, but instead of hitting the "door open" key he ignored the strange event.

He overlooked a lot of things these days. The occasional fight he might catch out of the corner of his eye while on patrol. Those cries for help while on the way home from the department. The cries no one would hear that would fade into the night like the life of the one who made the cry. Kevin would think of the lives that he could have saved, but that he let down. Like the people of Raccoon City. Now he did his patrol and caught the occasional robber or mugger doing the minimum to honestly say he was doing his job.

The doors opened to reveal the shabby interior design. The flower wallpaper was peeling back. It was proof that you can't hide the scars of the past. A fact Kevin knew all to well. The screams of pain he heard as he ran threw the city permanently burned their horrid images into his brain. The Faces would haunt him at night.

He walked down the hallway until he reached his apartment. He fiddled with his groceries and turned the doorknob and entered hitting the door back closing it once he got in. He walked to the kitchen area and placed his bags on the corner.

"Wait did I even unlock the door there?" he questioned, "How the-"he was cut off as a taller individual pistol whipped him.

"Kevin, you should look at things more carefully," the voice announced, "you might find you'll live longer"
Mean while in the maintenance closet a now satisfied land lord lay there on his back next to the woman in the red dress.

"So my Asian angel," he said trying to be smooth despite the fact he was obviously in his late 40's, "What sent you down to Earth?"

"You did," She answered, "Well you and Kevin." She quickly said after pulling out a small folding knife out of a strap on her inner thigh. "Now," She demanded moving closer to him. She leaned in wiping his spewed contents off her mouth with her other hand, "Where is Mr. Ryman's parking space?"

"2B," He replied. Now looking at the knife, "Is that what you're into?" With a forced chuckle the woman let go of the knife while pointed down to his chest and then slammed it down. She heard the knife snap through muscle and tendon finally hitting his lung. She covered his mouth. It was redundant though, he died instantly. She lay there staring into his lifeless eyes. Getting up she took a last look at her work. Slightly amused she switched off the lights and closed the door to the closet.
Kevin awoke tied to a chair. He was duck taped to an antique chair.

"Thanks for the chair mom," he laughed to himself, recalling when he found out is mother had willed him a load of antiques she had in storage. Not wanting to break the chair he began to analyze the situation.

"Ok Kevin," he said out loud, "in order to get out of this mess I have to know what the mess is. Some guy speeds into the parking lot, you see some weird lady enter the closet with the land lord and now you're tied up. Clearly this was a-"

"Actually that guy speeding into the parking lot wasn't part of the plan," Kevin was interrupted by the man from before, "Just another idiot speeding." Kevin got a good look at his assailant now. He was a tall well built man appearing in his mid 30's. His dark blonde hair, bony face and pale complexion sent chills down Kevin's spine.

"So what's a 30 year old guy with such good looks doing in my place?" asked Kevin.

"Actually I'm almost 40," the man replied, "and I'm here to see you Mr. Ryman. I came to see you because you were in the division of R.P.D. that was to be sent to my sector of S.T.A.R.S. Remember wearing the green uniform with the armor plating in the front; it was different than the standard R.P.D. uniform. Yeah we didn't tell you but it was because we were testing you to recruit you to the Alpha team. Those with the blue armor plated uniforms were to go to the Bravo team, with Enrico."

"If you lead the Alpha team, you would be Albert Wesker," deducted Kevin, "why are you doing this?"

"Don't take it personal Kevin. Right now Mark Wilkins is being followed. He'll be killed in his company parking lot. Did you know he's still a security guard?" Wesker questioned in a tone completely ignoring that a man was going to die, "That pretty pathetic. I came to kill you because I thought you might give any other of my men trouble.

"Who was that woman I saw entering the supply closet with the land lord?" demanded Kevin,

"You're in no position to yell Mr. Ryman; if I were you I'd act a bit nicer,"

"Yeah?" questioned Kevin, "go to-"Wesker fired a shot into Kevin's head then saying

"I'll see you there," walking away from the now dead cop he released the magazine from the gun, Placing the edge of the barrel to his right temple; he shot himself in the head with the bullet in the chamber. He fell to the floor with a great loud thump.

Mean while the woman in the red dress squat behind Kevin's car.

"It's been planted, Saint," she casually announced into her radio, "What's your situation?"

"Roger W-O- to the 'N' double 'G'," A feminine voice replied,

'There's only one fucking 'G' in Wong you stupid bitch. The voice on the other end only giggled, "Are you fuckin' high bitch?"

"You know the kind of emotional high I get from completing a mission Ada,"

"I take it Wilkins is dead," Ada said to Saint, "well then I'm going finish up here then I'll meet you at the rendezvous point. Over and out."

Walking out of the apartment lobby Ada hurried to make room between her and the building with out running. She wouldn't want to get anyone's attention. About 10 seconds after leaving the apartment a loud explosion was occurred in Kevin's apartment building's parking lot. The masses ran to the building screaming and yelling. Their cries pierced the sky.

Ada's mind flashed back to the horrific cries of the damned citizens of Raccoon. She was there on a mission, but that didn't stop her from feeling how she did. Feeling scared, feeling sad. As well as that one feeling. The feeling he gave her. That feeling wasn't meant to be felt, yet it was still felt none the less. The feeling she was never able to re-create. Until she saw him once more in Ramon Salazar's Mansion after he had escaped his dreadful labyrinth.

"Psh wow how'd I get to thinking about him?" she asked herself,"ok what ever I got work to do." She began to run towards the end of a street where she was stopped by a police officer.

"Excuse me ma'am can I help you? Are you alright?" he asked patiently, "ma'am?"

"Uh I was just scared," Ada told him, "The explosion back there kind of rattled me up."

"Explosion?" he questioned, "How do you know it was an explosion!" the now suspicious cop went to grab Ada's arm but she quickly ducked and shifted to the side and sent a round house to the back of his head.

Detective Morrison entered the charred lobby. He looked at the blackened floors and now smoking pieces of wood. He could only imagine they were pieces of furniture. He walked down the hall way and saw the yellow tape blocking a door way to his left. Looking in he saw two C.S.U. members. One was taking photographs of the murder scene while the other one was what the detective could only imagine was sampling a white substance from the floor. After a second of thinking Morrison shook his head and continued. He opened the door to the stair way and looked up. Letting out a great sigh he began his ascension to the 4th floor.
Ada entered a video game store and stood in front of the Evil Inhabitant game rack. Picking up a copy she read the back waiting for her accomplice. Saint walked in through the door and headed towards Ada. Removing her sunglass Ada looked at her young, beautiful, and deadly accomplice.

"How's it going Hot stuff?" Ada questioned

"It's fine," replied saint with a slight disgust, "but why did we have to meet up here?"

"Your lover boy picked it out, so go ask him."

"Where is he by the way? Did he check back in with you?"

"No but he's probably being out lined in chalk as we speak," reported Wong with a slight chuckle, " now let's get going shall we?" And with that word the two disappeared.

Morrison squatted down by the dead man on the floor. The blood from the exit wound made by the bullets was all over the floor. The chalk outline around that part was begging to turn red.

"Well now who's this handsome fellow?"

"The notorious Albert Wesker," commented a voice from behind, "that guy who worked with umbrella and killed those cops that he lead."

"And you are?"

"Special agent Oliveira," he flashed his N.S.A. badge, "And you are detective Morrison correct?"

"Well you guys come prepared agent Oliveira,"

"Please call me Carlos," he said in a friendly tone, "After all we'll be working together."

"Really now?" Morrison replied confused, "What for?"

"Well I wish I could tell you but I can't. Not yet any way"

"Ah cloaks and daggers shit huh?"

"You can say that," Carlos replied with a slight chuckle, "but first we got to wait for my partner to show up." The door opened revealing a tall man in his early 30's.

"Oh my god!" Morrison said, " you're Leon Kennedy!"

"Are you a fan of mine?" Leon responded in a flattered voice.

"Well yeah," he said, "I mean you inspired my daughter to join the Special Forces. I mean wow you're a hero to us."

"Well that's great;" I guess we'll have fun working together than huh?"

"Yeah agent- I mean Carlos mentioned that. What do you guys mean?"

"Well for however long this investigation takes place you will be an N.S.A. agent." Leon took him aside and motioned Carlos to make sure no one interfered, "We believe that umbrella corporation members are responsible for what appears to be a series of murders."

"But why would the N.S.A. investigate murders?"

"The people who have committed these murders have biological weapons," letting out a great sigh "and we have no clue where they're holding it."

"Well I mean it would be an honor to help, but how could I help?"

"Well because of your Navy Seals back ground and the fact that the murders have happened in your jurisdiction; we feel we can trust you and that you will be of value to us in this investigation," putting his hand on Morrison's shoulder, "So what do you say?"

"Well ok," looking seriously at Leon, "But in a case like this I mean am I putting my family in danger?"

"Listen I know where you're coming from. I love my wife and my kids," he looked at the floor and then back at Morrison, "but I feel I'm making a better place for them to live in and I mean your family will be watched and if you want we can put them in a safe house for the duration. I mean mine is staying at one. If they stay together I know my wife will help your family get through it."

"Well ok if I got your word they'll be safe,"

"You got-"he was cut off,

"Have god damn it," Carlos said, "Sorry about that but when people say got instead of have it pisses me off." He apologized.

"Oh sorry I didn't know I got to talk right English around you," Morrison replied with a laugh.

"Ha ok guys this is good," Leon commented, "now let's go out side to our car so we can talk I mean speak openly" and with that they headed out of the building.

The hustle and bustle of the city wasn't stopped by the explosion. It only attracted small groups of people who then quickly left.

"I can't believe everyone is still calm," commented Carlos

"Ha it's hard to phase them. Most of them are business men and women. This is Manhattan after all," The group crossed the street to Leon and Carlos' parked S.U.V.

"Get in Morrison," Leon said as he got in the passenger's seat.

"By the way my name's Pete,"

"We know," they both answered in unison. As the car began to move Morrison looked back seeing two body bags are wheeled into an ambulance and a third being wheeled into a special N.S.A. armored truck.

"Where are we going?" Morrison asked

"There was another murder in long island. You're from there right Pete?"

"Yeah, who was it this time?"

"Rebecca chambers. There we'll meet up with Chris Redfield. Then we'll discuss the case over a bite to eat," The car was silent until they reached the L.I.E. Once on the expressway Pete decided to ask them about the arrangements for his family.

"Well Carlos' sister and my wife and daughter are staying in a cabin in up state New York," Leon answered

"You tell him about your son?" Carlos asked with his eyes still on the road.

"Oh yeah my wife is pregnant with our son. 5 months in," He looked back, "I'm really excited."

"Yeah I was when my wife was pregnant," He said with a slight glisten in his eyes, "Twins a boy and a girl, but you two probably already know that."

"Yeah," they said in unison once again. They saw a car pull ahead of them it read just married. Carlos took a second to glance at the newly weds and saw that it was two males.

"Oh god that's sick," Carlos commented, "who would marry them a drunken priest?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked

"Carlos is a bit on the homophobic side," Leon answered.

"I say god created Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve!" Carlos defended

"You and your gay rhyme scheme," Peter responded, "come on lets change the subject. On a happier note, how close are we to the dead people?"

"Almost there," Carlos said taking an exit, "What street is it on?"

"William's street," Leon read from a folder. The car stopped in front of a house Surrounded by police officers, "I bet you 5 bucks this it." They stepped out and crossed under the police line. "What do we got?"

"A male Caucasian who took two gun shots to the upper chest, and we have a female Caucasian. She took a shot gun blast to the chest but I can tell you that's not what killed her. She drowned in her pool," a man reported to them.

"You with the C.S.U. team?" Pete asked, "And what do you mean she drowned?"

"Yeah I am, and I'll show you what I mean," he walked the group to the back of the house. They immediately saw the dead male he was on the floor. C.S.U. was taking pictures of him from all different angles. They walked a little further to see a pool that was now bright red. A body on the paved rim around it explained the pools color. "When we pulled her out we got a good look at her lungs," the man pointed at the bodies opened chest.

"Nice shot," Carlos said looking back at the body, "But how do you know she drowned?"

"You can see water in her lungs but her lungs weren't punctured by the shell. And there is water in her throat," the man paused, "She got shot then drowned in her own pool on her birth day."

"How do you know it was her birth day?" Pete asked.

"I told him," a voice came from behind, "We used to work together, and she was my girl friend." Leon turned around.

"Chris…."

"Leon…"

"I'm sorry man…" Leon was at a loss for words

"Yeah… me too,"

"You know him?"

"Yeah this is Chris Redfield. Chris this is detective Peter Morrison. We were brought here because some one in the raccoon city incident died and the cases we've been working are involving survivors of raccoon who have been murdered so we were brought in."

"It was Coen, Billy Fucking Coen!" He's the one here who killed her," Chris yelled pointing at the dead male now being placed in a body bag.

"I don't think so," Morrison spoke up from opening the bag, "Look how the shot gun is placed. It's not like she shot him and then with his dying breathes he placed it down neatly with his finger prints continently on the gun. Look if Rebecca Shoot him from there," he pointed to edge of the pool, "and he got shot his here and he died from these wounds he would have bled out. But there's no blood because they're post mortem. Now why would she shoot him after he was dead?" every one began to move in, "After he moved up Billy's shirt he saw bruising. Internal bleeding so what's the cause?" after taking Billy's pants off half way they saw where the bruising started, "His femoral artery was severed and the wound was then stitched. You can see after they cut it the held the wound because there's a bloody hand print. They probably choked him until he lost consciousness. They then stitched it shut and let him bleed into him self."

"But then what about Rebecca?" Chris said on the verge of tears, "How did she die?"

"Well she was still shot but, he wasn't the one who did it," that was all Chris could take. He fell to the ground crying, "Look she shot the guy and it must have gone through clean because there's a bullet hole in the wall covered in blood. It should be the attacker. But back to the guy, look at his hands. There are abrasions on his palms like he was dragged on this concrete. Also there are scuff marks on his shoes to match," he pointed to said scuff marks, "If we find where he was dragged from we might find some finger prints from a struggle."

"Damn you've made your self useful," Leon said," take a D.N.A. sample off the wall and take it to the lab. Chris do you want to work on this case, you can find these mother fuckers and put them away," Carlos cut in.

"We can use your help on this."

"You help me find them," Chris looked up, "and I'll help you kill 'em." He said with stone face mono tone voice.

Past the main door, 12 feet below ground, down the main whit hall way, in the room labeled 001 lay a desk a knives and other surgical tools. A F.B.I. agent was picking over looking his toys. ON the table a body bag unzipped itself from the inside revealing Albert Wesker. He silently got up from the table. He walked up slowly behind the Agent and placing his left hand on the top of his head and his right one on his throat crushing his larynx as he applied pressure, he snapped the man's neck. Wesker rubbed his temple where he shot himself. He activated the ear piece in his ear and began to talk into his sleeve.

"The Agent went out with out a sound. No, no one knows I'm alive. I'll begin my approach to the target, over and out." And with that Wesker kicked the door open and walked down the hall.

Well I wonder if you liked that. That was my first R.E. fic and I've been thinking it up for a while January 29th actually. If you actually like this and are hoping for a new chapter don't hold you breathe because I'm posting this the day I leave to go back to New York. Then to Myanmar. But when I come back to Arizona on July 19th I'll start chapter two. Well leave a review and thanks for reading this.