Vash: New reviewer! Thanks for taking the time to leave reviews for my chapters. To answer your question, I have no immediate plans to include Cranky in this story. Everything that's happened between Cranky and Kenny is enough to be a whole story on its own, and I don't need that complicating the established Resident Evil 4 storyline that this fic revolves around. But who knows, I'm making this up as I go along so anything is possible.

Tyrant: It's always nice to know that there are more people out there enjoying the stuff I pump out than other than the regular reviews. I'm happy to hear you like my previous Resident Evil story, and I hope you will enjoy this one as well. The way I saw it, it was impossible for me to not write a follow up story – RE4 was too great of a game.

Luna: There, I updated the very next day! Soon enough? ;)

XXXXX

The black limousine was waiting where Wesker said it would be – a dark, elongated form under the shade provided by a large oak tree, sheltering it and its occupants from the morning heat. The sun had just come up and it was sweltering already. Trying to conserve gas from having to leave the engine on for the air conditioning to work, Kenny guessed. Only the window from the driver's seat was rolled down, a well dressed arm hanging off the edge with a cigar placed between stubby fingers.

Kenny approached the vehicle slowly, not wanting to see who it was waiting for him, yet the urge to help Ashley pushed him on, two opposing motivational forces affecting his speed to a mere stroll. Whoever it was waiting for him inside grew impatient. They probably knew what he looked like, suspected that he was who he was. The back door to the limo flew open and out stepped a large man in a black T-shirt straining against the bulging muscles of his torso. He wore a scarlet beret on his head but the most significant feature was the giant scar across his visage, making Kenny jump back for a second upon laying eyes the man. His face was twisted into a permanent frown, Kenny noticed, as the man looked straight at him.

"Get in the car," he ordered, "we don't have much time."

Kenny reluctantly agreed, unslinging his bag from his shoulder as he got into the car. The flooring consisted of plush carpet. There were wine glasses lining the sides of the carriage and deep, comfortable seats just in front of the glass holders. Kenny found a spot on one of the sofas and sat down, wincing at the uncomfortable warmth of the material.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded.

"We're going for a ride," the man replied. He was alone in the car other than Kenny.

"To where?"

"Spain." The word came out so quickly, so suddenly, Kenny half suspected it was a joke.

"Spain!"

"Yeah, the country? Speaky you Espanol?" the man replied.

"Who are you?"

"Call me Krauser."

"And what do you want with …"

"You never stop with the questions, do you?"

"Well when you kidnap a friend of mine, force me to come on some whirlwind world tour with you …"

"All you need to know," Krauser explained, "is that you will play one of the many key roles that will bring Umbrella back. I know who you are, Kenneth Feng. Wesker's told me everything I need to know – about your past, your history with Raccoon City, with Shadowlaw, and with Umbrella."

"Six years, I've been running from Umbrella," Kenny said shaking his head.

"And you thought you were getting somewhere." Krauser smiled. "Even though they're no longer an official corporation, do you really think the scientists would let you go so willingly?" Kenny remained silent. "I didn't think so."

"What is it you want me to do for you?"

"There are these kinds mythical creatures in Spanish folklore called the Las Plagas. Officially, there is no such thing. Officially, that is."

"So you're telling me these Plagas actually exist."

"They're from the prehistoric ages, who've remained mostly unchanged since the age of the dinosaurs. Before Umbrella went defunct, they had only recently gotten news of strange creatures haunting a remote village somewhere in Spain. The Umbrella loyalists did their homework – and discovered that the rumors are true. The Plagas might have even taken over the entire village."

"What do these things do to people?"

"They're parasites that lodge themselves to their hosts' vital organs. They tap into the spinal cord and … well … mind control people."

"So what does Umbrella want with these things?"

"Umbrella wants to harness the power of these creatures …"

"And use it to take over the world. Yes, I've heard that one before. And you're sending me in to do the dirty work for you."

"Oh you won't be alone," Krauser said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "We'll be working as a team. There is a man behind the Plagas movement. A man by the name of Saddler. I will need to earn his trust to get closer to the Plagas."

"And delivering Ashley is gonna earn you that trust."

"Wesker's right. You are a smart boy."

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that that girl has some pretty symbolic significance. She isn't just some blonde bimbo, you know!"

"And a good friend too …" Krauser added sarcastically.

"Look, just tell me what to do, and it's as good as done, okay?" Kenny said, putting his hands up, as if surrendering. "Just don't hurt Ashley."

"I need you to steal some Plagas embryos. It's a backup plan, just in case I don't get the access to the creatures I hope for."

"So I get to be the bad guy, going around and stealing these creatures, while you get to be all diplomatic?"

"I hear the Shadow Technology has no limits."

"Just shut up about the Shadow Technology!" Kenny snapped. "I know I have it and I don't want to be reminded. I'll find those samples for you. My only terms are …"

"You HAVE no terms, boy! Right now you have my word that Ashley will not be harmed. But how close I hold my word to heart… that's another issue."

XXXXX

The small, compact helicopter plowed through the air. The open side doors allowed a strong wind to blow into the back seating area. The journey across the continent was undertaken in a closed, cramped private airplane. The freedom of the chopper was a welcome change. Kenny sat across from Krauser, shooting a look of disgust in his direction every so often. But every time their eyes met, Krauser would smile proudly, as if he'd accomplished something though nothing had happened quite yet. They were flying over an ocean – or a large lake, it was hard to tell. Since the location of the village was classified, there was no way of telling where they were going – only the pilot and perhaps Krauser too, knew.

"Don't be so pissy," Krauser said, his deep voice breaking the silence. "I'm taking you to see your friend."

Kenny's eyes suddenly lit up. He was going to see Ashley soon! That is, if Krauser was telling the truth, and he had every reason to doubt the man. But still, the chance was there, and at least Kenny could reassure her that she would be alright. He wasn't so sure he could keep her safe, but if he could give her at least that false hope …

"That is, if your friends haven't killed her yet."

"She has yet to be delivered to Saddler. Then he'll do with her as he pleases. Just as long as I can get to those Plagas samples."

Kenny was too tired to argue. They'd spent the last twenty four hours traveling by plane, and now by helicopter. He just wanted a bed that he could sleep in and forget about everything that had developed in the last day. Funny, two days ago he was just a regular teen, living in the delusion that he'd escaped Umbrella. If he knew then what he did now, he would've packed up, nabbed Ashley himself, and gotten the hell out of that campus.

The copter landed in a small clearing in the middle of a vast forest. The trees weren't too tall here, though they were bare and crooked, their leaves covering the forest floor. The sky above was cloudy, reflecting the light off some polluted atmosphere, casting a brownish, decaying haze over the entire scene. The dead trees did nothing but amplify the lingering notion of death. Kenny's eyes scanned the immediate vicinity, looking for some kind of path that they could walk through, but there was nothing in sight. Just trees and dead leave stretching as far as the eye could see.

"This way," Krauser said, walking ahead of him. He held a small, black piece of electronic equipment in his hand, probably a compass or something. Kenny followed close behind, not being very comfortable with walking alone in the middle of a dead, foreign forest, even though his companion was a crazy Umbrella fanatic trying against all odds to reanimate the dead corporation. He got the feeling that Krauser had been here before. The man strode with confidence through the trees. Either that or he was comfortable being in threatening situations. He seemed like an experienced combat veteran. And if Kenny wasn't feeling quite right about this place, he was sure Krauser had noticed it long before.

"Do you hear that?" the man asked out of the blue.

"I don't hear anything."

"The silence … there's no life here."

"I could've told you that when we first flew over this joint."

"That's because the Ganados are close by."

"The Ganados?"

"People that have been taken over by the Plagas," Krauser replied. "We're near their village. Keep your guard up."

"And protect myself with what?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." Krauser reached into his belt and pulled out a handgun, placing it in Kenny's palms. "I trust you've got experience with these."

"I haven't touched one since Rockfort Island."

"It'll come back to you."

"What about you?" Kenny found it strange that he was asking about Krauser's well being, but he'd established earlier that it was far more favorable to be with a combat veteran in some remote, hostile forest than alone.

"I've got this," Krauser replied, flipped a combat knife in one hand, tossing it into the air and catching in by the handle without even keeping his eyes on it.

"Hah," Kenny scoffed, "so you're gonna take out a bunch of crazy possessed villagers with a combat knife. Whatever suits you."

"You have no idea what I'm like with one of these things and something to slice up. And since there's nobody here but you and me," Krauser looked straight into Kenny's eyes, "don't get too curious."

With a quick motion of his hand, the knife went sailing out of it. Instead of hearing a dull thud, where Kenny had expected the knife to embed itself into the trunk of a tree, he heard a soft, wet splat. He spun around to see a strange man, dressed in denim overalls and a tanned leather vest over a white, long sleeved shirt, clutching his face in pain – the handle of the knife sticking out of his eye socket.

"What the hell are you doing, you maniac!" Kenny cried, running over to the villager to help him. Kenny had seen virally infected people before, he'd seen the undead. And the way this man screamed in pain – his nerves were still working. He was still … still … human!

"Stop it you stupid brat!" Krauser shouted after Kenny, "he's gonna …"

But the warning came too late. The man retaliated, slicing Kenny's shoulder up with a sickle. Blood from his wound spilled out in a scarlet arc as Kenny backed away from the crazed villager. He wasn't screaming anymore, though the knife was still in his face. Instead, the man walked slowly towards him like nothing had happened.

"W…what the hell!"

"They aren't zombies, not what you're used to," Krauser explained. "Now shoot the fucker!" The handgun was still lying in Kenny's hands, cold and unused. He was never a killer, though he'd killed to survive before. And once again, he found it hard to raise the firearm at anything that even looked remotely human.

Kenny stood rooted to the spot in fear, his survival instincts not yet having fully started up. From seemingly out of thin air, Krauser pulled out a bow and strung it with a set of three arrows in one swift motion. He launched the arrows, piercing the villager in the throat, abdomen and shoulder. The man down with a thud and never got up. Kenny was seized by the collar with Krauser right in his face.

"If you wanna make it out of this alive, then you're gonna have to learn how to shoot that fucking gun! I'm not gonna be covering your ass the while time we're here!"

"Te voy aser picadillo!" someone cried from the distance, followed by an angry chorus.

"Shit, they've caught sight of us!" Krauser said. "Stand back, Kenny. I'll take care of this."

Kenny half expected him to whip out his bow and arrow and take out the whole mob of villagers approaching them from the distance. They were close enough for the smoke and light from their torches to be seen. But instead, Krauser opened up his arms, looking like he was surrendering to them or something. He began mumbling something in Spanish to the villagers.

He didn't understand a word, but whatever Krauser was saying, it worked. The angry mob, complete with pitchforks stopped in their tracks, the expressions on their faces telling him that they were considering something, probably whatever Krauser was saying.

"What are you telling them?" Kenny asked.

"Just shut up and don't move," Krauser said over his shoulder.

They stood there for a tense moment, under the scrutinizing eyes of the villagers. Kenny wasn't sure what Krauser was thinking. Whatever it was, he was good at hiding it, standing there as calm as ever. Kenny on the other hand was panicking, his mind running around in circles with only the adrenaline keeping his body completely still, ready to jump at the slightest sudden movement.

Krauser smiled as the villagers turned their backs on them and began heading back the way they came. "I don't believe this, they're leaving us," Kenny whispered.

"That's because I told them who I was," Krauser replied with his trademark smirk.

"What the hell difference does it make to them?"

"They're smart. They know I was the one who brought Ashley to them, and therefore under the direct protection of their Lord Saddler himself."

"You've already brought her to him!" Kenny asked. "I thought you still had to deliver her."

"Correction," Krauser said, jabbing a finger into the air, "I said I was taking you to see her. That doesn't mean she hasn't been taken to Saddler already. How else do you think I already have such seniority over these dirty villagers?"

"Is Ashley in their village?"

Krauser nodded. "We're to deliver her to the church for protection."

"Protection against what?"

"The President's already sent an agent to rescue her. They're trying to keep it under wraps so that nobody gets wind of the news. But not under my watch. If you see any suspicious characters …"

"I'm in a Spanish village with people possessed by prehistoric parasites. Suspicious characters are running rampant."

Krauser rolled his eyes. "If you see any damn Americans toting guns and acting all covert-ops, kill them on site. I don't care who they are. Do I have your word?"

"I told you, I'm not a …"

"Don't forget about Ashley."

"Fine. You have my word. Any other American I see other than you dies by my hand."