Chapter 1

Leon pushed through the heavy double doors that led into the GSA's secure interior. He didn't apologize for not holding the door for Hunnigan, who had only just caught up to him, balancing a laptop in one arm and a stack of papers under another. A Styrofoam cup was in her free hand, a PDA in the other.

"Coffee?" she asked, her voiced strained from keeping up with his brisk pace in her knee length skirt and high heels.

Leon took the cup from her. "Thanks." He sipped it, then made a face. It may as well have been a cup of steaming motor oil. The cup went into the next trash can he saw. He hoped Hunnigan wouldn't choose to be insulted...unless she had made it herself. At any rate, he really didn't care right now. He turned left at the T-junction, following the direction of the sign that said "Holding Rooms."

Bringing her here wasn't a good idea. It was the most logical idea, but still, that didn't make it a good one. What if this was just another plot, only this time, the GSA was her target? They were used to the organization sticking to the shadows. They might not even see an attack coming until it was too late.

And it all just seems too easy, way too convenient.

Leon passed through another door, unlocked with a buzz after he swiped his keycard. The armed guard standing watch gave both him and the lagging Hunnigan a brief nod as they entered. There were less and less office personnel on this side of the door. Anyone roaming the halls here had a gun and knew exactly how to use it. There were cameras at every corner in the halls, and most doors were solid steel and electronically locked. It was the inner core of the Government Security Agency, the part that held all of the nasty stuff of humanity.

On a good day, the GSA was void of criminals. The kind of people that wound up in its cells were above average crooks, usually the kind that threatened the nation as a whole, mostly terrorists. Today was one of those days. All of the holding cells were empty, save for the one at the end of the hall. That one had a lot of security. Two guards with automatic rifles stood on either side of it, keeping intent watch for anything that seemed even slightly out of picture.

As he passed the door, Leon's heart rate increased. He tried to keep himself calm, but it wasn't working. He always got like this when she was around, and it always made his job that much more difficult. He would second guess himself, let his guard down. Despite being in the safety of headquarters, he felt tense, ready for a fight. Something was going to go down, he was sure of it.

Leon opened the door next to the guarded one. It was the adjoining surveillance room. Inside, two full walls were full of monitoring equipment. The third wall consisted of a single one way mirror that acted as a window to the holding cell. Two technicians sat at the consoles, monitoring the status of the recording devices for the holding cell.

His boss was inside as well, but he barely noticed him. Leon was more focused on the window to the other room. Inside the holding cell was a plain metal table, surrounded by four guards in the corners of the room with submachine guns. The four of them guarded the single flame of crimson calmly sitting at the table in a folding chair.

Ada Wong.

The beautiful Asian spy sat confidently, back straight and head held high, chin up, as if the gray metal she sat upon was a royal throne. Her expression was neutral, her head cocked in lazy boredom as if there weren't several 9mm weapons trained on her. Beneath the table, her long, flawless legs were crossed, one black heeled foot slowly bobbing up and down as if it were a metronome keeping beat to some unheard tune.

Her curves hid it well, but she sat crooked. Leon immediately saw why. They made it a point to cuff her around the chair. That way, if by some chance she tried escaped, she would have to drag the chair with her. They didn't seem to want to take any chances, either. She was cuffed with a set of standard metal cuffs, then above and below them, two sets of plastic disposables. She wasn't going anywhere.

Seeing her under lock and key gave Leon some interesting thoughts. He hated to see a woman tethered down like that; it was almost cruel, like a butterfly trapped in a tiny net. But she didn't struggle. It was instead like watching a tiger on the other side of the bars. Beautiful and sleek, it simply sat and waited in its prison. It was breathtaking to look at, but as soon as you were in the same room and up close, you found out just how deadly it was.

Her light green eyes seemed to stare at him through the glass, though Leon knew she couldn't see him. It was just because she was staring straight ahead, and he happened to be standing in her line of sight. Still, it unnerved him like always; made him think twice.

Hunnigan kicked the door shut behind her after she entered, causing Leon to bristle internally. He hated it; he shouldn't be acting like a rookie, especially at a time like this, especially when she was around. But he knew that she was the source of his nerves.

Leon's boss, John Fischer, stood quietly sipping his own cup of coffee. He seemed to be focused deeply on the woman in red. After all, she was a part of the biggest threat to the country, even if the whole of the nation didn't know it. He had made it a personal goal to see this assignment through.

"Has she said anything yet?" Leon asked him.

Fischer shook his head. "No, nothing relevant anyways. All she's done is flirt with a few of the guards every now and then. Any suggestions?"

"She's not going to voluntarily give away anything," Leon said. "Not unless she has something to gain from it."

"We could offer her protection, in case Wesker sends someone after her."

"I don't think that's a good idea. If Wesker wants her dead, then I don't think there's anything we can do about that. We can try and protect her, but we won't be able to hold out for long. I think she knows that too, so our offer is bunk."

"Then we need to get any information from her as soon as possible, should anything happen. But this is America. I can't condone any illegal methods."

Don't think they'd work anyway.

"Let me talk to her, one on one," Leon said suddenly. "Turn off all the recordings and audio."

Fischer looked surprised. "Kennedy?"

"We have a history, sir. I might get a little out of her, but you're just going to have to trust me. She might be more willing to open up if there's no chance of incriminating evidence."

Fischer paused and looked away, thinking hard. It wasn't the best idea, and Leon knew that. Ada might be restrained, but him going in there alone was potentially dangerous. But he knew that she would never hurt him voluntarily. He was more worried about Fischer shooting the idea down. He was one for protocol, doing things by the book.

"Okay, fine," Fischer said at last. "I'll give you ten minutes. Don't do anything stupid, Kennedy. This woman is a killer."

"Yes sir, I know."

"And I wouldn't be so quick to trust a damn word she says. You said you have a history together. I'm giving you the benefit of a doubt about what that history was, but don't forget that can work both ways, agent."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind, sir."

"Very well then." Fischer motioned to the techs at the instruments. "You two, shut everything down. Mics, recorders, video, make everything dead. Kennedy..." he looked to Leon. "I'll lock this place down. But we can't keep her here forever."

Leon nodded and turned to leave, brushing past Hunnigan on the way out. She whispered him luck on the way out. Out in the hall, the door to the holding cell buzzed open. Leon heard Fischer's voice over the cell's intercom, ordering the guards to leave. They filed out one at a time, leaving the way door open for him.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the room.