Part 1 – New Mission
It started with a terrorist attack in New Delhi, India on March 3rd, 2016 it was thought that the newest incarnation of Neo-Umbrella called Nivalu, or Struggle in Arabic.
One simple explosion sent a shockwave through the city, twenty people dead from the initial explosion, and eighty from the resulting anti-Nivalu riots.
Upon further investigation by BSAA Captain Christopher Redfield, there was an unexploded bomb found on the premise with a container holding a strain of the C-Virus.
Back at the BSAA office in Downtown Manhattan, Chris was giving his report to his boss, James Richardson, former head of the C.I.A. and current Director of the BSAA.
"It seems that there was an explosive set up that didn't explode," Chris said, "Whether or not it wasn't meant to go off or was is beyond me."
"Maybe," Director Richardson said as he leaned back in his chair, "You're sure the bomb belongs to Nivalu?"
"It has finger prints of a known Nivalu bomb-maker all over it," Chris said, "I've also tested it for the C-Virus, it was confirmed positive."
"Why aren't any J'avo present?" James asked.
"The C-Virus itself only has a half-life of about three months," Chris said, "The samples we found in the containers are at least four months old."
"Four months," Director Richardson asked, "Why didn't they check?"
"We'll soon figure out," Chris said, "Me and my team were treated before we went into New Delhi so we should be ok. We should be getting the results from the samples we have downstairs in the lab pretty soon."
Director Richardson exhaled, and leaned further back in his seat, "I'll see what we can do," he said, "Who do we have on standby?"
"I'm on standby sir," Chris said, "Why not send me?"
"Sorry Chris," Director Richardson said, "Not this time, probably not again."
"What?" Chris asked.
"You're firing Chris," BSAA Agent Quint Cetcham asked as he looked at James.
"Sir, you can't fire Chris," Keith Lumley said, "He founded this company."
"I know that," Director Richardson exclaimed, "And I'm not firing him, quite the opposite actually," he looked over at Chris, "A few weeks ago, we discussed this at length, and we all agree that your accomplishments to the BSAA have not been fully recognized."
"Really?" Chris asked.
"Yea," Director Richardson said as he slid several papers across the table to Chris, "Effective immediately, you're being promoted to Colonel, and elevated to the position of Deputy Director."
Chris opened the folder, and checked the papers, "Well?" Quint asked.
"It's all here," Chris said, "I've been promoted to Colonel, and given a seat as a Deputy Director."
"Alright," Quint said as both him and Keith stood up, and walked over to Chris who stood up to share the standard BSAA congratulations fist-bump.
"Ok, ok," Director Richardson said, "Congratulations, good work. Here's the deal, your office is located on the Sixteenth floor, right now, why don't you go home, your wife clocked out not one hour ago, and I have a feeling your children are wanting to see their father."
"Ok," Chris said, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"You better," Director Richardson said, "Tomorrow, the real work begins."
"Of course." Chris said.
Chris walked down to the office's car garage, and over to his car, a 2016 Range Rover Evoque.
He bought the Evoque because he was now a father to twins, and needed a car with space and a safe car.
As Chris drove through town, he wondered what Jill would say when he got back, and told her that he had been promoted to Colonel and elevated to the position of Deputy Director.
She'd defiantly be surprised, shocked? Maybe. Angry? Nah.
His apartment was a two bedroom, one bath apartment on the 10th floor of a multi-story apartment complex on Manhattan's Upper West Side.
The carpark was very secure, while both Chris and Jill did have to split the check between both their paychecks, they were happy there, although their kids would need more space as they grew up so they were looking at bigger spaces such as houses or condos upstate or across the river in either Brooklyn or Queens.
When Chris arrived, he took the elevator up to the tenth floor, and walked down to walk down to his apartment, when he opened the door, he saw his wife had just taken dinner out of the oven.
"Hey Chris," Jill said as she pulled the chicken out of the oven, and set it down on top of the oven, "You're home early."
"Daddy," Chris and Jill's son and daughter, Piers and Deborah exclaimed as they ran to their father who knelt down to hug them, and then pick them up to kiss them.
"Ok everybody," Jill said as she walked up to Chris, and gestured for the kids to move aside, "Ok people, move aside: woman of the house coming through."
Jill cupped Chris's jaw in her hands as they leaned close to kiss while the kids turned away.
"Hey," Chris said, "And yes, I am home early," he set his children down, and hugged his wife, "I have big news."
"Let's eat, and talk about it." Jill said.
The family sat down to dinner, and as they were eating, Piers asked, "So what news do you have daddy?"
"I'm no longer a field operative in the BSAA." Chris said.
"You were fired?" Jill asked.
"Nope," Chris said, "They promoted me."
"Chris, that's great," Jill exclaimed, "To Major?"
"Colonel," Chris said, "And given me a seat as a Deputy Director."
"Chris, that's amazing," Jill exclaimed as she walked over, sat in Chris's lap, and hugged him.
"Jill," Chris said, "There are kids here."
"It's ok Chris," Jill said as she tapped her husband on the lips, and hugged him around the neck, "I just want a hug, and maybe a kiss," she then kissed him, causing their children to look away.
Chris often told his children small bedtime stories in order to put them to sleep, when they did, Chris tucked Piers away, and kissed his son on the forehead before leaving with Jill.
The two entered their bedroom, and as they were getting ready for bed, Jill asked, "What'd you find in New Delhi?"
"It seems the C-Virus was meant to be used," Chris said, "It seems however human error is responsible for not releasing the virus."
"I'm sure you'll figure out what to do." Jill said.
"I hope you're right." Chris said.
Meanwhile, Singapore…
A Caucasian male about six foot three, roughly thirty years of age with think brown hair and blue eyes walked through casino of the Marina Bay Sands casino wearing what the rest of the employees wore, shiny black shoes, black pants, a long-sleeve button-up gold shirt, and a metallic brown vest.
He walked up to the bartender, and spoke, "Order in," he said, "The man at the baccarat table wants another gin tonic."
"Real stick up the ass isn't he?" The bartender asked.
"I know," the man said, "Asshole orders four drinks for him and his bodyguard, and doesn't tip shit."
"I haven't seen you around here before," the bartender said, "New guy?"
"Yes," the man said as he held out his hand, "Richard Green."
"Michael Yong." The Bartender said as he shook the man's hand.
The man smiled, the bartender thought that he was smiling for making a new acquaintance, but really, the bartender didn't know that the man had given him a false name, his real name was Ben Eric Marshall.
"You were in the military weren't you?" Ben asked.
"How can you tell?" Michael asked.
"First of all, the haircut, its cut well behind the ears which is only seen on soldiers, spies, or cops," Ben said, "You have a consecutive tan from your wrist down, and the base of the neck up. However beyond the wrist is pale which is more common among soldiers, and I noticed the Rhino on your left wrist which is where former members of the S.A.F. keep their tattoos."
"Impressive," Michael said as he handed Ben the gin tonic, and placed it on the gold tray he would be bringing it over to the table, and the scotch the bodyguard would only drink.
Ben walked back over to the baccarat table, and when he arrived, he passed the drinks to the man and his bodyguard.
What the target and his bodyguard didn't know is that while he had his hand over the drinks, he shook a little powder into the drinks which would make the target seriously drunk, and go back to the his suite so he could sleep off the drugs.
Ben walked back to the bar, and spoke, "Wong, I'm going on break," he said, "Have someone take care of him ok?"
Ben walked away, and walked into the part of the hotel that was not covered by the cameras, he flipped his shirt inside out, changing it into a white formal shirt.
As he walked up to the elevator, he tapped the button that led to his target's floor.
When he stepped out, he walked up to the wall leading to the same hallway as the target's room.
Two minutes later, it was evident his target was there because he heard a very drunk guy singing some kind of garbled song.
The man carrying him down the hall was his bodyguard, the bodyguard pulled out his boss's keycard, inserted it into the lock, and opened it.
What he didn't know was that Ben had snuck up behind him with an extending police baton.
As he swung it at the man's head, it made a simple 'thwack', and the man dropped his boss, but just turned around to face him.
"Ah shit." Ben said.
As the bodyguard ran up to attack, Ben dove underneath the swing, into the room, and as he tried to slam the door, the bodyguard held his hand out, only to have the man slam the door on his hand, breaking his fingers.
He simply grunted, and entered the room.
The bodyguard moved in for another attack, Ben rolled underneath the swing, grabbing the complimentary ceramic bowl off the entry-hall table, and smashed it over the bodyguard's head.
Still nothing, "You are one tough bastard." Ben said.
The bodyguard swung low, nailing Ben in the stomach, as he leaned over, the bodyguard picked him up, and threw him across the table.
Ben stood up as the bodyguard walked up to him holding a stool, "Ah shit." He said.
Ben simply threw his leg back, and nailed the bodyguard in the groin, it seemed to affect him being as he dropped the stool, and fell to his knees holding his 'business'.
Ben picked up the stool, and smashed it over the bodyguard's head, still nothing.
He ran into his target's bedroom with the bodyguard in hot pursuit, and as he slammed the door, a face-impression was made in the door, there was the sound of a body hitting the floor, and everything outside fell silent.
Ben opened the door to see the bodyguard was finally unconscious on the floor, "Really?" He asked.
Ben didn't have time to talk, he turned around to go through his target's items, clothes, books, and toiletries, but what he found in the closet it what he was going for, a small safe which had smudges on the number 3, 5, 1, and 9 keys.
Figuring out a key-code is just as much a form of math as it is remembering the combination on a padlock, every combination is different, but when added up, they all make a specific number, and if the numbers don't form up correctly, then the combination won't work.
I'm afraid I can't get into the math because when it comes to math, I'm about as useful as a broken pencil.
Ben finally had the math figured in his head, and typed in 9, 3, 1, and 5.
The safe buzzed, and clicked unlock, Ben opened the safe, and inside was what he was looking for, a small silver case, as he opened it, he saw inside what he was looking for, a single syringe full of the C-virus, and a vile of the virus.
Ben reached to the back of his shoe, opened the heel, pulled out the counterfeits, replaced them, shut the box, slid them back into safe, shut it, and took the $50,000 in U.S. dollars he intended to give the buyer as a gift, making it seem that the motive was robbery.
Ben walked out of the bedroom, over to the exit to the balcony, and when he arrived, he looked down only to feel that trembling, icy cold thing in his calves.
Heights was his worst fear, it wasn't crippling, but it was serious.
He did what he had to do, and climbed over the edge, and dropped down to the next room where he made a very quiet exit from into the elevator where he hit the roof button.
When he arrived on the roof, a BSAA helicopter was waiting for him.
As he boarded the chopper, and the chopper took off, he looked back as building security rushed onto the roof.
Ben gave security a small wave, and shut the side door to the chopper as it flew away.
As the door shut, Ben turned to face BSAA Oceania Branch agent Sophie Home, "You got the samples," she asked as she held out the case to Ben.
Ben reached down to the soles of his shoes, opened the heels, and removed the samples.
"Right here," he said as he placed the samples in the case, and shut the case.
"Good work," Sophie said, "As always."
On the way back to Manhattan, Ben washed the black dye out of his hair, revealing his white hair, he was only thirty, but the effects of a disease he was born with kept his hair from retaining any pigment, and also the blue contacts he had in his eyes also came out with ease, revealing the light grey, almost white eyes he had.
Arriving back at the BSAA office in Manhattan, Ben was giving his report to Director Richardson, "Upon incapacitating the bodyguard I made my way into the target's bedroom," Ben said, "While searching the room, I found the safe the target was holding the virus, after cracking the combination, I replaced the samples, exited the room over the balcony, and made my way to the roof where Agent Home was waiting in the helicopter."
"Well done Agent," Director Richardson said, "What about the money?"
Ben pulled the money out of his jacket, and placed all $50,000 on the table.
"If that's all sir," Ben said, "I have a 4:00 flight that I don't want to…"
"I'm afraid I can't send you on vacation yet," Director Richardson said, "I know that no one deserves a break more than you, but we have a situation brewing."
"What is it?" Ben asked.
"I believe I can explain that," Chris said as he walked in wearing a grey suit with a white button-up shirt.
"Chris," Ben said as he stood up, and walked over to Chris, and the two embraced, "You look good."
"So do you," Chris said as they pulled apart, "Damn good to see you."
"What's this fucking tie business," Ben asked as he lifted Chris's tie.
"Oh come off the tie," Chris said, "I've been promoted to Colonel anyways."
"No way," Ben said as he gently punched Chris's chest, "Congratulations."
"Come on, sit." Chris said.
"Alright," Ben said as he sat down in front of Chris and Director Richardson, "This is about that bombing in New Delhi isn't it?"
"How'd you know?" Chris asked.
"I think one of my contacts might have had something to do with it." Ben said.
"What are you talking about?" Director Richardson asked.
"Forty eight hours ago, one of my contacts in New Delhi underworld contacted me about a possible bioterror weapon sell happening in the city," Ben said, "So I set him up with a small amount of money for a possible purchase."
"How small?" Director Richardson asked.
"Twenty five million." Ben said.
"Is that U.S. Dollars or Indian Rupees?" Director Richardson asked.
"Dollars," Ben said, "Authorized."
"Keep going." Chris said.
"Before the explosion I received three different communications from him," Ben said, "The first came in thirty minutes before the explosion saying that the seller had identified the weapon as 'something that could change the balance of the world, and had identified the seller as a weapons agent for…"
"Nivalu." Chris said.
"Yes," Ben said, "The second communication I got from him was ten minutes before the explosion, he said the seller had been approached by another buyer which he identified as a member of the Red Dragon Triads."
"From the Shang Min Islands?" Chris asked.
"Where else," Ben asked, "The final communication I got from him said that he had won the bidding war, and that he was about to head back to the United States, but that was the last I heard from him. Then the next day, I turn on the TV, and I see that the café the transaction was happening in was a pile of rubble, and my contact was dead."
"So there is a connection between the Triads and Nivalu?" Director Richardson asked.
"Yes." Ben said.
"How much did we lose?" Director Richardson asked.
"That's the weird thing," Ben said, "I checked the account to find out that exact figure, and there wasn't anything missing."
"Nothing?" Director Richardson asked.
"Nothing," Ben said, "The money was all there, and not a single penny was missing."
"Interesting," Chris said, "Not one penny was missing yet your contact said he bought the weapon. That makes no sense."
"I know," Ben said, "And with everything going on in the world, I can only assume that the weapon was a biogenic weapon."
"You know what's going to happen next?" Director Richardson asked.
"I assume you're going to send me to Shang Min City," Ben said, "Try and use my contacts to get close to the Dragon Head."
"Yes," Director Richardson said, "And yes."
"There is however one other thing," Chris said as he passed a file across the table to Ben, "We'd like to send someone along."
Ben turned the file over to reveal it was a Secret Service seal on the cover, he opened it to revel Helena Harper's file, "Helena Harper," Ben asked, "The girl involved in Tall Oaks, Lanshiang, and Tatchi?"
"Yes," Chris said, "That a problem?"
"No," Ben said, "I harbor no animosity towards her. I'm just wondering why."
"She's ex-U.S. Army, and ex-C.I.A.," Chris said, "When she was in the Army she was deployed to help the Chinese government with the Shang Min City riots. In the C.I.A. she was instrumental in the fall of Akbar Albas' drug trade in the Middle East. She made friends in both the Middle East and Shang Min City, hence the reason she and Leon managed to escape the U.S. and make it to Lanshiang."
"Indeed," Ben said, "She can tag along," he handed the file back, "But you know that no one has more contacts all over the world than me."
"We know that," Chris said, "But one of her contacts might have something that you don't have."
"I look forward to meeting him then." Ben said.
"One more thing," Director Richardson said, "With the success of your previous mission we've decided to promote you to Captain. This mission is in your hands Captain."
"Thank you Director," Ben said as he stood up, "Colonel," Ben saluted the two, "I'll leave for Washington immediately," and with that, he walked out.
"You really think he can do this Colonel?" Director Richardson asked.
"He's among our best Director," Chris said, "If he can't do it, then god help us."
Guess what's about to happen…