A/N: Ok this chapter was not originally what I had meant to be the first chapter but I think that an immediate followup is required. So read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, nor do I own Ford or any of its splendiferous, big, sexy trucks. But the original characters Kick, Rush, Saul, Omar, Elea, Zeke, Gianna, Bart, and Roger, and others I'm sure I failed to mention are all mine.

A Vicious Cycle II: Devil

Chapter 1: Followups

Subject: Abolhassan-Ramirez, Isabella "Kick"

Location: Russia

Status: Fine

I'd never been to Russia before, but I spoke the language. I'd been to the Americas of course, Europe, Australia, Africa, one half of Asia, and hell even Antarctica for reasons even I didn't know. Wesker just would never let me go to Russia; something about sex slavery and the suspicion a new person of color entering would bring. I knew he was lying throughout that whole lame ass excuse that he was telling through his teeth, grabbing at straws to keep me away from there, and now I understood why he never wanted me to go.

"Oliveira! Put out that fire!" The South American smirked at me as he doused the flames that were just large enough to be a fire hazard to our provisional housing. The deep orange tents were cheap I could tell, that's why Claire and I chose to buy our own with sections and zippers for privacy. I knew better than to trust a foreign country with accommodations, and though grateful, the politicians never passed up the chance to be cheap.

Oliveira fell onto the split log that we used as a seat, and it made the scene look more like a coed scout camp than a temporary militaristic base. "'Got a few questions for you Ramirez."

"Though I don't care I know you'll ask anyway," I said in an uninterested voice, fiddling with my newest flip lighter.

"Why do you have two last names?"

My stare was both confused and annoyed as I looked into his dark and stubbly face, my eyebrows furrowed so that I was sure they were touching. "Because my parents weren't together. 'The hell kinda question was that?"

"Okay calm down. Why do you speak Spanish so much if you're from Brazil with an Arab mom? Why not Portuguese?"

Thinking of my history bothered me more than I anticipated, and my voice caught in my throat as I attempted to answer. Carlos Oliveira didn't know much about his own past, other than he was some kind of Native born in South America, but I could see why someone else's history seemed so appealing to him. "Mi padre," I simply stated.

"What was he?"

"Mexican, Brazilian… a dash of Panamanian. I stayed with him a lot as a child. So I spoke Spanish with him, with my mother too, but I had to speak Arab or Portuguese with my siblings so I had to know those."

Lighting up a cigarette he shook his head. "Damn, you got a crammed brain. Why didn't they know how to speak Spanish?"

"To keep my twin sister happy," I began, not wanting to, or too ashamed to speak her name, "because she would have thought Alice loved my dad more to know that Omar was my full brother. Gianna's father was Italian, Nadia's-" I stopped, incapable of uttering her name without crying. When her name was said, a part of me broke, and I knew that whenever it was spoken she deserved sorrow, pity, and reverence. "We don't know about her dad."

There was no way Carlos had missed the unmistakable sound of grief in my voice; he put out his cigarette in his hand and flicked it to the ground. "Since you knew Birkin personally, did you think he was a bit of a dick too?" I nodded, too saddened to answer in a strong enough voice.
"I know it's sad to lose people."

His sentence seemed cut short, like there was more he wanted to say, but he merely got to his feet and walked off. Which direction he took is a mystery to me; my gaze was on the ground, and I think it was what he wanted. Carlos bothered me so much because of my connection to Jill, but my severed link with AUA was what kept him from inquiring, so he knew still that there was no way he could have her. In a world where a certain person who was significant to me didn't exist though, he could possibly be with her, but I don't want that world to ever come to be. Because even though I wouldn't be living a lie, my heart would; I would know how things were supposed to be.

"Kick?" I almost jumped at the sound of Claire's voice, and I looked up to see that she was standing right in front of me.

Getting up off the log I asked, "What did you find?"

"There's a barn." She struggled with the statement, and her emotional state made it hard for her to raise the volume of her voice above a whisper.

"How many?"

"One, and a man," she stammered "They aren't reawakening, but I'm not sure if they were infected."

Wordlessly, with a nod of my head I told her to show me where it was, and with tentative steps she started off towards the woods. No one else in the camp would go there out of fear of the bigger or more dangerous monsters hiding in the foliage, but Claire had a lot of proving to do. I'd found out from Carlos that AAA was paying extra to the men if they reported on her performance, and they knew that I took care of the hard calls on our assignments. Frankly Claire wasn't cut out for the job of an assassin or merc, leaving me to do the work she failed to do, but it didn't bother me since I wasn't honoring her checks. Claire's specialty was transportation, not killing, but boy could she kill when the person or being was clearly an irredeemable threat.

As we walked, we opted not to speak to one another, and so we had five minutes of silence between us. I presumed Claire was nervous that I would reprimand her for failing to exterminate without command, but sometimes I liked that she checked back; there was no point in wasting ammo and putting bullet holes into bodies that had already been left to decompose. The old barn was brown, rotting, and full of old hay. Rusty buckets lined the far wall, the missing steps on the ladder that led up top advised against ascending, and the stench of the place could only be ignored once one saw the sight in the middle of the floor. Two decaying bodies were left in the hay, a man in his late forties with graying hair and a salt and pepper beard lay next to a little blonde girl.

The farmer was in his working clothes, probably was just about to start his day, and the girl was in a little pink dress with one of her dress shoes missing. Looking at her, I judged her to be at least seven years old, forcing me comprehend Claire's hesitance to let off into the corpses. After I murdered Giovanni, my sister's son, I found it quite easy to dispatch of children, and though it sounded so heartless of me to admit to such a thing it was the truth. Children were dangerous as are we women; we use our appearances to our advantage, and the fact that men have a desire to protect and the urge to aid women and children only adds to their foolishness.

We could be helpless, pathetic, lonely, seductive, and when we enter into a man's world we allow them to indulge in whatever wish they hold. Who doesn't want something to care for? It's why people take pets. Men want women because no one wants to be alone, and they want children because everyone wants something to nourish and flourish under them.

"So, what do we do?" Claire's voice sounded so small right now, so fearful.

Without thinking about it I whipped out my pistols as fast as I could and shot the corpses in their heads. In my peripheral vision I saw Claire jump, but her mouth did not open to protest my decision when two little groans rose into the air. After holstering my weapons at my hips I turned back to the open barn door, and walked back toward base camp. It seemed I was always right these days.

Subject: Redfield, Claire

Location: Russia

Status: Fine

Though her decision was right, I still felt terrible about the incident that took place in this barn. Slowly, soundlessly, I made my way over to the corpse of the little girl. I still hadn't seen her face, which probably would have made it easier for me to dispatch of the body on my own. Blonde haired little girl… All I saw was Sherry. I heard her, but I knew I would never again.

I hesitated just as I was about to turn her onto her back, my open palm was inches away from her shoulder, but I couldn't do it. I stood up and stepped back to grab her by her ankles, then proceeded to drag her cold, lifeless body from the barn. I worked more quickly with the man, not caring much that I saw one of his eyes as I pulled him out to leave him next to the little girl. Trying not to bite my lip, I pulled the flask of kerosene from one pocket, and my flip lighter that once belonged to Chris from my other. I carefully doused the bodies, and as soon as their flesh began to char I stepped back into the barn in an attempt to escape the smell.

How much longer could I do this?

I was irritated at this point; this woman was taking way too long on the satellite phone talking to her kids and the cheap Russians who hired us only chose to distribute five of them to a group of about eighty. I was about to give up and walk away right now but I heard her tell her children goodbye and I immediately put on my fake smile as she handed the black cellular device to me. Quickly, unable to connect fast enough, I punched in the number of the Greek AUA HQ and waited to hear the annoying ringing that one had to endure until someone answered the phone. I didn't have to wait long though for in the middle of the first ring I heard someone pick up the receiver. I waited for a, "Hello," but it was silent.

"Chris?" I asked, unsure of whether or not the reception on these things was as great as people claimed. "Hello?" For a brief moment I heard breathing, not deliberately threatening breathing, rather the breathing of someone who was trying to be quiet while their presence on the other end was detectable, but then whoever it was hung up the phone. Pulling the phone away from my ear I did a quick survey of my surroundings, seeing that I was in the middle of the orange mass of tents, the closest tree was maybe sixty feet away, and not a soul was present at the moment. Instead of dialing the house again I set the phone in the metal tray attached to the small pole that had been driven into the ground and started toward the makeshift warehouse over the hill.

As I began a brisk jog I felt that I was being watched, but I refused to look back; it would have been pointless when I was trying to tell myself that there was nothing amiss. The side of the aluminum warehouse was within sight and with that also came the sight of two of my comrades sharing a cigarette. By the time I reached the front of the building I was out of breath, not from the short jog up the hill but because the call had managed to creep me out a little. At the front of the warehouse, I saw Kick looking around, like she was making sure no one was watching her, but I was not concerned with why, I just wanted to reach her. I felt like an eternity before I finally skidded to a halt before her, and in surprise-maybe- she threw her hands up in the air as though she was surrendering to the FBI.

"I was just," I started, but the sight of smoke rising up into the air caught my attention, and I eyed my partner. "What were you just doing?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't get an honest answer from her.

"Nothing," she replied, trying for casual and failing. It didn't matter to me if she smoked really, it was just a gross habit to me, and she was doing it more often lately. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Never mind, it's nothing," I lied. Rather than push people to the possibility that I was paranoid after so many years of dealing with Umbrella I'd abruptly changed my mind about filling Kick in on one tiny incident. When people thought you were crazy you drove yourself down the highway straight into it, and I was already close to the edge after the events at Rockford and Antarctica. No, I wouldn't say a thing because who would even be after me when the only Umbrella I'd been near was an actual umbrella? All of the people we'd been sent to neutralize by AAA were done away with properly, and there was no chance that any of our enemies had survived.

I hadn't heard from Wesker in a year, not since that day when he's beaten me… Maybe though, maybe he was saying hello, maybe he was coming back, but Chris assured me that he had disappeared off the map and that he hadn't even been dealing with any corporations lately. It wasn't him, it was a mistake. That is what I told myself and that is what I'd stick with. Honestly, it made me feel a lot better at night.

Subject: Redfield, Christopher

Location: AUA Greek HQ

Status: Fine

It had been a while since I'd heard from Kick or Claire, but I chose not to worry too much about the pair. Last I heard they were off to Russia, where we had been not too long ago, but of course they were in a different location. I often thought about going to London to pay the two a visit but every five seconds Jill was bringing new problems into our relationship and it was only a matter of time before I decided that I could no longer stand her presence. Maybe a trip to England wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Had I fallen out of love with her? No. She was just overbearing nowadays and the only explanation there could be was that she saw it, the connection between Kick and me, but I believe that this particular suspicion had to one concocted by the paranoia one develops after they commit an infidelity. But all day everyday Jill was nagging me, demanding way more sex than usual, and-I shouldn't complain because usually after a couple are together for so long there is no such thing as a sex life-this was tiring me out. For all I knew this could have been her attempt at keeping me interested, but then again, maybe she was trying to get pregnant.

Thankfully, I had my way of preventing this from happening with the help provided by AUA's helpful medical team; when you had doctors who were trying to keep people pleased that were out to save the world, the pressure on them made them do anything and keep secrets very well at that. There was no way Jill was getting knocked up any time soon and if she did I would know without a doubt that I was not the father, but it bothered me that this was what my life had become. I sat around waiting for work to come and I was not out doing a regular job. After getting kicked out of the Air Force my life plans had been shot to hell.

I was supposed to have a wife and family on base, able to retire after twenty years of that crap and live a normal life in a suburb somewhere with a big, red F-250. I may not be able to have that life but I prayed my sister would; it started as her coming here to be near me and now she was over in England doing her own thing with someone who I knew would never be able to have that. Kick was unable to conceive, though I didn't know the specific reasons I knew this was what was true, and my heart ached for her. It sucked because I could see her with a baby in her arms in the hospital, looking worn out yet still so beautiful as she cradled her bundle of joy.

I had to stop thinking about that though because it was never going to happen. I considered getting out of bed at this moment, and just as I was about to I heard the door open and I already knew that it was Jill.

"Chris? You're still in bed?"

I wanted to retort with, "You're still bitching?" but I knew that would not be a good idea. Instead I chose to state, "I'm going to London in a few days. Think I'll check on Kick and Claire."

"And you're not curious as to whether or not I wanna go?" she asked, and though I had my eyes covered with my arm I knew her arms were now folded over her chest.

"Do you wanna go?" I asked in exasperation.

"Who would we be staying with?"

After I told her, she most likely wouldn't want to. "Well, since Claire stays in a one bedroom apartment we'd be staying at Kick's house."

"And why can't we just get a hotel room?"

Finally removing my arm from over my eyes I turned to her and said, "Because I'm not staying a hotel room in London. On top of that, Rush is supposed to be going out there too so since Kick's house has three bedrooms we can all just stay at her place."

"And you think it'll be wise to leave the newbies here with just Barry?" Her questions were starting to get on my nerves, and the only reason I was still in bed was because I had a migraine from hell at the moment.

"Jill," I began, looking at her, "It's for like, three days."

With a huff she turned on her heel, and as she left the room I heard her say, "I'm not leaving Barry with Zeke and Elea."

It wasn't a bad idea that she stay though; I didn't trust the two new recruits to be here alone, and though they had been here for about eight months I still considered them new because they didn't know how things worked, and they didn't understand the importance of laying as low as possible right now. We hadn't heard from Albert Wesker in a whole year and Elea liked to party, but it was strength in numbers right now so if we went out we needed to have a large enough group. A whole year without hearing from him, and even though I didn't like to think of him I could not help but wonder where he was now.

More importantly though, I wondered what he was up to.

Subject: Chambers, Rebecca

Location: Unknown

Status: Caution

There was a low humming noise, and for some reason it wouldn't stop. My neck was beginning to hurt now, my head had been hanging down for some time, but I had no idea how long that could have been. One minute I was navigating the streets of Ohio and the next… I couldn't remember anything after I turned that corner and now I wracked my brain in my state of desperation to understand why. With a deep sigh I blinked slowly, to clear my vision though the only things I saw were my thighs. What was going on?

Slightly, I turned my wrists, feeling the rough material of a braided rope that held them behind my back. "Don't panic Rebecca," I told myself, but I still could feel that very emotion begin to form in my chest, my stomach, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost my wits. Though I had been a member of S..S. I was just a medic, and despite the fact that I was involved with the Umbrella fiasco and the outbreaks I never mastered the ability to stay calm under extreme duress. AUA was great fieldwork but even then I was babied by my comrades, sheltered from the things that caused the hairs to rise on the back of my neck.

I stopped feeling sorry for myself when I heard the sound of heavy boots, the owner of them attempting to move softly across the cement floor. I was far too curious to pretend to still be unconscious, so I looked up to see my captor, just in case I wouldn't get a chance later, and my mouth fell open as I gazed upon his face. My breath caught in my throat and I only managed to release a croak that intended to come out as a name. I began hyperventilating when I was able to breathe again, giving me the ability to whisper, "It can't be true."

Before I could utter his name his gloved hand balled into a fist, striking me across my jaw, I felt the char falling sideways to the floor, me along with it, and I heard my head thud against the floor but the impact was so great that I was already slipping away into the darkness without having felt the pain of the punch for too long. Why was this happening to me? My search had ended here.

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