Authors note: Hey folks again. I'm really enjoying this fan fic stuff. Particularly the challenge of making Ashley from teenager to soldier. Nearly 5000 words this chapter, it is a giant bit of work. Guess thats what happens when you have nothing to do at uni.
From what Ive written so far, this story is going to take a long time. Im hoping to bring alot of characters into the story from all over the resident evil world, and as for which ones die...who knows? Ill decide closer to the time. I might not kill any, and certainly wont kill any just for the sake of it.
I hope those of you reading enjoy this chapter. Its focused primarily on Ashley, and there is also a brief mention of other characters. This story will be from numerous perspectives, but Ashley will become one of the main characters, so I hope. Then, beyond the next chapter or two Im not sure about anything but the simple plot, so we will see.
Anyway, enjoy, and thanks for reading.


Chapter 2: 48th Street

'I am relieved that my daughter is home, and I thank you for the concern but really there is no concern to be had...'
This would be one of the rare times that President Graham answered questions of the press, while standing on the doorstep of his own, usually private home. There were hundreds of them, surrounding the presidents, standing on the gravel, the grass. Even the flower beds under the windows. Ashley could see crushed roses under foot.
She watched from her bedroom window, making sure to keep the blinds as closed as she could without losing sight of those gathered below. She couldn't even see her father, or his hair, that had greyed considerably between her kidnapping by the ex-marine and her return by Leon. He was standing on the step, having to answer a storm of posing questions since the story of her kidnap was leaked, or at least escaped secrecy somehow.
'Where is she now?'
'Safe in her room.' Answered her father. 'Grounded.'
Laughter rippled through the gathered press. Ashley didn't find it funny, no matter how good natured his father's happy, healthy laugh was.

She closed the blinds fully with a jerk of the pulley string, knowing that at least one or two cameras would have turned to her window with the swish of the blinds. She fell on her bed face down with a flump. Then she turned over. Then she sat up again.
It had felt very different this time, coming home. Her father had never been unfatherly – he had always tried to be there, help her through school, and her mother didn't need to work, so she was always there for her. Before Spain life had been comfortable, if at times tiresome with the constant interruptions from men wearing suits and carrying suitcases.

That day, when Leon had returned her home personally, everything was different. Except it wasn't. She sat down in the dining room and had a sandwich, father and mother asked her if she was okay, took her grime covered boots away, brought her new clothes, asked her to re-tell the experience, which of course she declined. None of this would be any different to a day at school where she would be pushed in the mud. It was no different to how they would usually have treated her, except now she was uncomfortable. She was finding those questions more and more patronizing every time she thought about them. She had survived castle traps! She had escaped from Ganado – she paused in her thoughts for a moment, wondering if that was what Leon had called them before dismissing it as unimportant. She had helped Leon escape...

Did no one care? Of course not. Even if she told her parents, they would barely take notice. They probably now wanted her to stay inside forever, never grow up and never wander out into the world in case she was kidnapped again.

Irritated, Ashley looked around her room. There was her favourite poster, of Will Smith signed by Will Smith. There was her mirror wardrobe which spanned the length of her room, full of expensive clothes, shoes, necklaces and other expensive accessories. There in front of the wardrobe were her long leather boots, her favourite boots. There in the mirror, she could see her own face growing even more irritated at the sight of all these things.

This wasn't even a new thing! She had been home for weeks now. At first she relished being home again, and getting back to her life. But, as the weeks wore on...
There was a frustration in her she couldn't dispel. She was home. She was in comfort. She could do just about anything she liked, at least for the moment. She felt like going on a rollercoaster. But she was terrified of roller coasters...

She could hear the ignition of engines – the press were dispersing, probably being herded away by the body guards. Then, someone knocked on Ashleys door.
'Dinner Ashley!'
'Ill be down soon...'
But she couldn't bear the thought of being told all about the press conference. About how
everyone was soo worried about her, wanted to know how she was doing, what she was doing, where she was...
Ashley stood up and went to have a shower.

************************************************

'Graham!'
Ashley snapped out of her reverie, remembering where she was.
The Chinook which she sat in the cockpit of flew ahead of the other two, forming an arrow head in the sky. Their task force, the small army of the BSAA flew North-West from their base, deep within one of the forests of Colorado. The night above was almost clear, but for a few sporadic clouds. Three Chinooks transported the entire force, their rotor blades thundering as they quickly flew to their destination, where more surveillance and recon was already analyzing the target.

'Situation.' Ashley said through her mike to the other pilot via ear protectors, switching buttons so that the entire of her unit heard the briefing. The pilot waited for her to complete this before beginning.
'We are going to Salt lake city, route 48. A company building there has been evacuated because of a suspected bomb threat. This bomb activated within two minutes of the death of Albert Wesker. We suspect that this is a potential outbreak zone, or a virus is waiting to be released upon the activation of the device. We must deactivate the device, or use extraordinary means to limit the reach of the virus.
Ashley knew exactly what 'extraordinary measures' meant. Her unit would assume they had a measure to combat the spread, a cure or would simply close down the area, distribute radiation suits to the soldiers. That was what her soldiers would assume.

In actual fact, if the bomb were close to detonation, a radiation bomb would also detonate, destroying the device and any viral threat. Placed by one of the Captains of the BSAA with Weskers bomb, it would kill anyone left in the building, were higher command to decide the mission was irretrievable.
It sent a chill down her spine to imagine that she may have to be the one to place the device. A fear that clung to her like cold water.

*********************************************

Once again, the press were gathered outside their house. To Ashleys relief however, they were being kept firmly out of reach, outside the house gates, waiting like hungry dogs.
President Graham had resigned.
Ashley only knew that in his statement, he had said he wanted to 'spend more time with his family'. She didn't know anymore than that. She had chosen a long time not to immerse herself too deeply in her dad's work, especially when he was elected. His statement was all that she needed. Now they all sat in the living room together, with the TV pointedly switched off. Making small talk.

'Maybe we'll go camping.' Her father said. 'Somewhere secluded. It would be fun to disguise ourselves for a while maybe, hide from the world.'
Ashley smiled, briefly. It didn't go without notice. Her father smiled back at her, his weary. She suspected it was a mimic of hers.
'And that...feels like the first time you have smiled in weeks. Looks like Im not doing my proper job right either...'
Ashleys smile faded. Joke it was, and she knew it. But...
'What's wrong Ashley?' Mother asked, only just noticing. Ashley didn't blame her. She had been faking happiness just for her. She didn't leave much to question for her parents. It was her life.
But then nobody really questioned her jogging more, around the woods where she lived. Just seen as a good lifestyle change.


Other things, like running, some muscle work, she made sure no one knew about – she had needed help with that, but had sworn a friend to secrecy before asking him to help with bicep building, and he, Jermaine, or Jay had a crush on her anyway, poor thing. It wasn't like he was going to refuse. He had been going to the gym for years. He had wanted to be a basketball player, as all his mates did, but years after he had pretty much accepted the non reality of his dream he had kept going to the gym. And he helped to no end.


The first few days she had tried the new regime, she hated it. Her lungs couldn't take the strain, her muscles couldn't, and even her determination to do so waned. She had even shouted at Jay once. She was close to quitting, saying damn it all and going back to a life as a future secretary somewhere. But then, those little things like her mirror, and her clothes wardrobe, would get so much on her nerves that she would just go for a run again. It was as if she had got an allergy to normal life. It wasn't something she understood, or tried to. It didn't really matter. Gradually, she had grown to enjoy her little regime. And with Jay there most days, she had grown fond of him as well. Although not quite in the way he wanted.

Almost three years later of this improvised exercise, and while she was no body builder she was far more athletic. And ready, at least in her own, optimistic opinion. Still she thought, you never know...
'Dad...' She began. 'Do you know about the BSAA?'
Her father, as she should have expected, was nonchalant.
'British secret agent...agency?' He said, with a half smile, a shrug. 'I don't know darling. Maybe someone told you the wrong initials.'
The word
darling spurred her on.
'I want to join.' She said. 'I want to join the BSAA.'

She didn't know much about the organization, except for a brief conversation with Leon, a few months after Spain. He said he was helping set it up, pushing for its building. He said he had nothing better to do at the time. It was what he had said next that had started all this. Ashley had asked more questions, evidently from what he said next, one too many.
'Look, Ashley...you don't want to know. Just stay at home, like a kids life, and forget about it.'
A nerve twanged angrily in her head as he finished his sentence.
'Hey!' She shouted. 'I am not a kid! I hate being cooped up here! I hate my room! I hate my life! I hate being treated like I'm a freaking six year old!'
And then she said something that she, raised in a house like hers, should never have said, and slammed the phone down. Switched it off, and threw it away so he couldn't call back.
She did catch the irony of her losing her temper so easily being very much child like, but she didn't care.

Father sighed. Ashley smiled, instinctively before straightening her face again.
'And that would be why you have been running then...' Father said. 'Should have suspected. Damn my years...'
What followed, Ashley remembered, was an argument. Not a loud one – you don't do loud arguments in a (ex) presidents household, so she thought and was taught. But one where Ashley was proud to say she savagely fought her ground.
When she went up to bed, having irritated mom and dad so much they had grounded her, she sat on her bed and looked in the mirror, no longer irritated by what she saw, and beamed. She felt like she didn't recognise herself. It felt good, to be looking at the new Ashley.
What had happened to her?

**********************************************

As her thoughts wandered backwards a forwards, thinking about everything that had taken her here, she saw the city, drawing close. There was a scattering of small skyscrapers, dwarfs compared to the towering city blocks that Ashley had seen in New York, the smaller buildings clustered around these. As the city drew rapidly closer, she could see cranes in the distance, between two of the skyscrapers, their iron gridding hanging in the sky.

Suddenly, the helicopter slowed.
'High command.' The pilot called. 'This is bug 1, followed by bug 2 and bug 3. We are beginning descent on the target area.'
Ashley didn't know much about Salt Lake city, and was looking down upon a strange land to her as the chopper descended on route 48. She could see small cafe's, a club. Every so often there would be a house. Now, that was almost as much as she knew about the area. Almost.
She cleared her throat and opened the comms of the unit once more. Trying to steady her voice. This would not just be her first field operation. It was the entire units first operation. All had been practice before now, no matter how realistic their commanders may have tried to make the training.
'Salt Lake city...has a population of over one hundreds and eighty thousand in the city area alone. The greater urban area including Salt Lake city has a population of over one and a half million...think about these numbers before you think about your own. We must complete this mission.'
With a deep breath, Ashley closed the comms.

**************************************************

'Shit.'
That, was the first time in a very long while that Ashley had sworn. But then, she had a reasonable justification. She was dead. Her shotgun lying useless by her side, she having been hewed apart by a crazed man with an axe.
It was only an exercise, true enough. But if it had been out in the field...

Reluctantly, she got up. The exercise was over. Her team of five had lost out to thirty 'practice' Ganado, ambushed and eliminated in the dark of the forest. The other four, three of the guys and a girl, hive fived – they had let just two Ganado live this time. They saw her wandering towards them. They evidently thought she was taking this too seriously.
'Oh come-on Ash! We did okay...a big improvement on the last time actually.' Biggins noted, giving her a wry smile. 'I thought we did good.'
'Yeah.' Killy said, her bunk mate with her arms folded. 'Team C go!'
At that, Ashley smiled.

Her mistake.
Far too late they noticed the hulking form of Ian walking towards them. One of the soft axes in his hands. Ian was their commander and trainer, and Ashley always wondered if he had been a dinosaur in a previous life. He was, to put it simply, brutal, and he was again about to demonstrate this.
Biggins was the first to go. Ian slammed the soft axe into the back of his thigh, casting the tall squad leader to the ground. And Killy was the next. Half heartedly she tried to stop the attack, stunned by the situation, and Ian headbutted her, she holding her bleeding nose as she fell.
Luckily for Ashley, Carl and Yaya, that was where Ian stopped his brutality. With his arms at least.

'Why, the FUCK, were you celebrating!' He screamed into Carls face. 'Did you think that was good? Did you think that was worthy of FUCKING high fives!! That was a DISGRACE! Do you not UNDERSTAND WHAT WE ARE DOING HERE?! You are not only all dead, you have also let thousands of OTHER people die! DO YOU THINK I AM JOKING PRIVATE ANUS!'
He had evidently decided that Yaya was his next target for his attack, screaming full on in his face. Trying to maintain a straight, fearless face, Ashley was begging Yaya, jokey and laid back by nature, not to laugh. To her relief he did not.
'I DO NOT THINK YOU ARE JOKING SIR!
'FUCKING GOOD!' Ian screamed back, pushing Yaya to the ground with, it seemed, a mere flick of a hand. 'In a field operation, YOU WILL NOT GET TO GET BACK UP AGAIN AND SCREW YOUR HEAD BACK ON, IS THAT CLEAR?!'
'YES SIR!' They all hollered back.
'IN THE FIELD, YOU WILL NOT GET TO HIGH FIVE, BECAUSE IF YOU DO, I WILL EXECUTE YOU MYSELF! IS THAT CLEAR!'
'YES SIR!'

Later the day, as the night drew in, Ashley walked the forest. Trying to shake off the shame of the day.
After the brutalising by Ian, they had been brought back to base camp. Made to do press ups, while mud was poured over them. The rest of the trainees at the camp watched and laughed, although Ashley was convinced that Ian had made them do it.
Then they were given goggles and sentenced to shooting by paintball squad.
Ashley was almost tempted to let go of the pistol in her hands and feel the bruises she had on her thigh, stomach, and even jaw – the paintballing had been only for a few seconds, but it was enough. She felt a glimmer of satisfaction in the fact that she didn't cry out.
But the temptation to nurse her wounds was tempered by the thought that she was being followed.
Calm, she continued to walk. She dropped her gun a little lower, trying to give the illusion of being relaxed.

Whoever was following her was quiet, very quiet. But Ashley had dodged mad psychotic stalkers before. Whoever this was didn't have a prayer of catching her off guard.
She walked past a tree and softly pressed herself against the other side. Listening for the steps. They came, a tip toeing pit pat of feet. Ashley slipped around the tree, knowing she was turning him, she was the one now behind him. She had a window of attack.
In the moment that the attacker couldn't see her, had no clue where she was, Ashley pounced. Directly behind him, she raised the pistol, aiming for the back of his head, and pulled the trigger.
Click.
The gun was empty.
But of course, Ashley knew this.

'That makes it something like...seven – five to me.'
'Only because you cheat.' Jermaine said, turning around with his hands raised in surrender.
'All is fair in love and war.' Ashley said with a smirk.
'Fair point.' Jermaine agreed. Two short sticks in his hands. He tossed one to Ashley, who caught it in-between two of her fingers.
'One hour.' He said. 'Then back to camp. God knows what Ian would do if he caught you out this late.'
'Probably just punch me.' Ashley said. Not even half joking.
For the next forty minutes or so, they traded blows with the short sticks, improvised blunt knives. Making weaving patterns, trying to outfox the other with movement, strike quickly and then retreat. They could also use their free hands to block the others knife strike, only to find their own attack stopped by the others well placed iron grip.

'The trick...' Jermaine said. 'Is not to get stabbed.'
'Oh?' Ashley said. 'I thought it was for you.'
'Hey.' He said. 'I'm the master here.'
Ashley would have argued the point, but knew she didn't have much backing on that particular point. Jermaine didn't look it, but he was devilishly quick, struck with precision, and toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. Ashley liked to think she was in fact improving though.
Her ears pricked.
She ignored the jab at her chest, letting it hit her. She had heard something, a sound far too much like the pit pat of feet.
In a second, she had her gun out of her holster, pointing it into the dark.
But after a few moments she realised that if there had been anyone there before, they certainly weren't now. Whoever it was had fled.
'We...we should get back.' Jermaine said, whispering it as if afraid someone nearby would recognize his voice.
'Yeah...we should get back.'

***************************************

'Rank up!' Ashley said calmly into her mike, as after what seemed like hours the helicopter touched down off route 48. 'Two by two! Team mates side by side!'
They had landed outside what looked like a factory, or at least a firm of some sort. The windows loomed ominously in the air, spotlights searching the windows for anything for the BSAA's small force to be wary of. Nearby, bug 2 landed, while high above bug 3 hung, ropes falling from its rear.
Over the comms, came a familiar voice, to Ashley anyway. 'Bug squads 1, 2 and 3, this is high command.'
Ingrid Hunnigan. Ashley had heard her voice every so often in Spain. It was only when she had returned home that she met the businesslike woman, who's first words to her were comments on the change in her physical condition since her kidnapping. Ashley had been in such a good mood at the time, she couldn't help but laugh. Every so often, they would talk, and it was only after a few meetings that Ashley realised how good she was.

'In the time between Leon arriving in Pueblo and the time when communications were jammed...' She said. '...Leon fired one hundred and thirty three handgun shots, seventy nine double barrelled shotgun shots, and four hundred and one sub machine gun shots. Only fourty three percent of those overall shots were fatal.'

At first it had made Ashley feel extremely awkward to talk about the whole experience again. But as she had seen Ingrid more, she couldn't help but become fascinated. She had stats about everything to do with the mission. She even knew how many wounds Leon had taken, how much weight he had lost in pursuit of Ashley, and somewhat chillingly, a general thorough analysis of how lucky Leon was to be alive.

Oddly, it made Ashley feel a little better that, not only was Hunnigan playing the role of mission controller, but that she would by now know just about everything there was to know about this building.
'The building in which the bomb is situated is an office block. From ground floor to top floor, the majority of the building is office cubicles. In case, I would recommend either using grenades to detroy these cubicles in order to eliminate as much cover as possible, or in the case of a range to range fight, use flash grenades to advance on any entrenched resistance. However, we do not expect resistance. As far as we can tell there is extremely limited, if any resistance whatsoever. None the less, we follow proceduce. On go, bug team 1 enters North West side of the building. On go two, bug team 2 enters the South East side of the building. On go three, bug three will enter through the stairwell entrance on the roof. '
Ashley looked up to the helicopter on the roof, where bug 3 slid down the ropes in efficient fashion. She half wondered if Jermaine, who was with that squad, would do so well without her. Half of her wondered how well she would do without him.
But then she heard Ians angry voice on the roof, demanding they line, and her will hardened.
'We are not sure if this is merely a desperate ploy by Wesker to cause another incident or something more, so be cautious. Watch for traps in particular. Trip wire, USM's, and the like.'
Ashley watched the building, her unit gathered behind her.
'Good luck.' Killy whispered over her shoulder.

***********************************

All was chaos.
Lights flashed and crackled, electrical wires spitting sparks from plugs. Except for these random flashes of light, the building was a ruin. Only Ashleys tiny pistol light gave her any indication of the ground ahead. Rubble from where the roof had collapsed to her right. Shrieks from the stairwell in front of her. Guttural noises that reminded her all too starkly of Spain.

Up the stairs came a zombie. It half ran half stumbled, hungry for her flesh. Its arms reaching for her arms, trying to scratch her with those deadly, infected fingers.
Ashley struck first. She dropped her pistol in order to grab its throat, pressing in closer to it so that its hands, which scraped at her back couldn't penetrate her armour. With her another hand, she whipped out her knife with a flick, plunging it into the back of its neck.
The zombie collapsed, dead within a second of it climbing the stairs.
But Ashley couldn't rest on her laurels. She picked the gun up again and was retreating from the stairs, spinning as she did to check her surroundings. From the dark – another. This time ganados. The plagas, Ashley knew, within the rib cage, behind the other organs, pushing them forward while at the same time manipulating the brain. Its black robes had almost made Ashley miss it, but for her torch light glancing off the metal of the large flail it carried. Ashley retreated well out of range, taking time to aim. Firing off a shot that made it drop the flail. Then, she shot out its knee caps. It took time to destroy the plagas, time she didn't have - she was being hunted from every direction.

She ran towards the corner, looking to create herself more open ground. Her mistake.
She moaned helpless as suddenly she felt something wrap around her face. Blinding her, suffocating her. Making her deaf to the world...she fell to her knees, completely exposed...this was it.
Game over.
The tongue fell off her face. The lights flickered on in the BSAA's ruined terrain training building.
Again she swore, swearing again as she wondered what father would think of her swearing. Sighing, she saw what had 'killed' her.
Its head pulsed with tough membrane, its tongue slathering across the floor. Its skinless body pulsed with running blood, its bulky muscle heaving like they were breathing. And its front claws dug into the concrete, each talon as long as one of Ashley's shins.
Licker. It unnerved her to look at it. It looked so...real. In fact it was a very well made up robot, using metal wire within the tongue to control its trajectory and how it had just wrapped its...slime covered tongue around her face.
Ashley shuddered as she wiped off the slime, hearing someone's footsteps behind her.
She turned to see the hulking form of Ian, the Ganado and the zombie she had 'killed' on this level leaving down the stairs behind him.

It was hard to judge what he was thinking sometimes. His face was unreadable, like glass.
Eventually, he asked. 'How do you think you did?'
Ashley said the first thing that came to her head.
'I died.' She said.
'Everyone dies in here.' He replied.
'I could have done better.' Ashley said back. It was true. Those last moments of the test were a failure of wits. She had panicked, rushed the corner and paid.
'Yup. Your composure was good initially, but it needs to be maintained. You could have lasted a few more minutes if you had kept your positional sense. You should have angled around the corner, watched for the enemy. And against a licker...you must always strike first. Most failures in this exercise fail because the Lickers tongue strike prevents them fighting to full capability, for those few seconds that are enough for it to close and finish you. Remember that.'
Ashley nodded. '...How did I do?'
Again, Ian affixed her with that stare.

'I might tell you if you stop practicing your knife play at night. You are going to need your energy over these coming weeks, mark me. Your ability with the knife is no longer at the point where it will be markedly improved to the point that losing an hours sleep is worthwhile.'
It was at that moment that Ashley knew who had been following her and Jermaine into the woods.
'Okay.' She said, not bothering to state the obvious.
'Okay.' Ian said. 'I will say that you did okay. You are in interesting company.'
Ashley nodded, accepting his assessment.
'Now go.' Ian said. 'I have more jumped up morons to train.'
Ashley departed in the safe knowledge that she wasn't one of them.

**************************

Killy strapped the door with small bombs, designed to blow off the hinges. Ashley watched on with the rest of the group.
'Remember what Hunnigan said.' Ashley said, turning to address her group. 'Be cautious, but don't just be cautious. You have to watch every shadow, every possible manner of attack. And watch your partners back.'
Ashley was never sure if they listened or not. This troubled her. She was picked as captain because she was the best in this unit, apparently. But if she couldn't be a good captain, then the unit could be compromised...
That thought nagged at the back of her mind as she turned back around to the door, Killy standing back with the door wired.
There was something else as well. Ashley couldn't quite distinguish a smell in the air, one that didn't fit.
5...
4...
3...
She thought back to her last three years, the memories flashing through her psyke. Remembering each time she had been outdone, by Jermaine, by Ian, by others in her group. Remembering each, remembering to not make the same mistake twice.
But as the door fell, the bombs blowing it off the hinges, and the 'GO!' order came from Hunnigan, the mission controller who accounted for every eventuality, Ashley couldn't help but wonder if everything was truly accounted for and watched for, as they filed quickly into the office block.

End of chapter 2