Notes: So here we are onto the re-write of Endgame! Unlike the previous two facility stories, this is going to be the one with the most changes. I really struggled writing this originally and since it took so long, I started to lose heart with it. I was unhappy with the way I portrayed Leon and his PTSD as well as Kevin, Jill and Carlos' storylines which I think lacked depth. I also felt like while the character of Ginny was interesting, I handled it poorly. I don't want to spoil things but there's some pretty big changes coming up! One of which I'm going to continue dealing with in the fourth facility story which will be coming soon.
The Facility Revisited – Endgame
Leon Kennedy smiled serenely as he leant against the smooth white wall that overlooked the tranquil bay. The water was a breath-taking clear blue with sunlight sprinkled across its surface like silver glitter. It was calm and unmoving, completely untouched by the tourists that flocked to the country on a daily basis. A small strip of sand nudged up to the water's edge creating a small beach that hadn't been despoiled by rows of sun bathers or childish sand castles. He was looking forward to walking along it later.
The wall he was leaning against was built into a large hill that presided over the idyllic bay. It was covered in slightly yellowed patchy grass, dotted with the odd bushy green tree. It was an area that had been completely untouched by the tourist trade. There were no shopping or recreation areas nearby so tourists would have little reason to visit. It was one of the few well-kept Spanish secrets, making it perfect for him. Atop the hill sat a small, traditional style chapel with clean white walls and a terracotta roof. A couple of flights of stone stairs lead down to the wall where he was standing. Leon turned around to observe the building. It had a large, dark oak door and, above that, a big brown circle of marble built into the wall. The small bell towers with its golden bell was the only giveaway to it being a place of religion. Like its surroundings, it was perfect.
Leon walked up the stairs, holding onto the black handrail and took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy oak door. He entered a small porch area; painted white with a stone tiled floor, and grinned at the man he found waiting for him.
"Thanks for organising this Dennis. It's beautiful" He said, shaking Dennis' hand. The older man smiled back at him as he adjusted the lapel of his immaculate charcoal grey suit.
"Not a problem at all" He replied. "I'm just glad that I could be of service on a day that I never thought I would see happen"
Leon nodded. He was equally as surprised as Dennis at how his life had panned out. No longer the lone wolf who rejected attachments and human contact, Leon was now preparing to marry the man that he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with. If someone had told him two years ago that this was how his life would turn out he would've probably laughed in their face and severely questioned their sanity.
"I'm happy for you Leon" Dennis continued, giving Leon's shoulder a squeeze.
"Hey, cut the mushy shit guys"! A voice from the other side of the porch suddenly rang out. "It's almost like we're at a wedding or something"! Chris teased as he appeared from the other side of a small oak door and grinned at Dennis and Leon. Leon sighed fondly. Leave it to Chris to swear in a church. Despite that minor annoyance, he couldn't help but notice how good Chris' dark navy blue suit made him look. It was cut perfectly, showing off his impressive body and it had been paired with an expensive looking grey shirt. No doubt the shirt was down to Maria's guidance. She was Dennis' wife and she'd agreed to help Chris find something suitable to wear for the big day. Looking at him now, Leon could see that she'd done a good job. A very good job. There was just one thing missing.
"Where's your tie"? He asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Ugh" Chris pulled a face. "Do I have to wear one"? He whined.
"It's our wedding day" Leon protested. He was dressed in the same dark navy suit as Chris but had paired it with a wine red shirt and a thin navy tie. His black dress shoes had been polished and it hair was glossy and perfectly styled.
"Exactly" Chris said, running a hand through his messily spiked hair. "I'm not so hot on spending the happiest day of my life feeling like I'm stuck in the gallows" As if to further emphasise his point, he undid the top button of his shirt. Leon supposed that he couldn't really argue with that logic. He wasn't totally comfortable either but he'd had a lot more practice at wearing a suit and tie than Chris who was a dedicated jeans and t-shirt wearer. The humid weather wasn't exactly helping the situation either. So, as a show of solidarity towards his husband to be, Leon slipped off his tie and folded it carefully before placing it in his pocket. He undid his top button and opened his collar out a little. He had to admit that it did feel a lot better.
"Are you guys ready"? Maria appeared from the small door, looking resplendent in an expensive pink silk dress that complimented Dennis' charcoal grey perfectly. Her thick black hair was a soft halo of curls and she was proudly wearing the platinum heart shaped necklace that Leon had helped Dennis find for their last wedding anniversary. "The minister is ready for you" She continued in her delicate Spanish accent.
Chris nodded and planted a sloppy kiss on Leon's forehead. Leon smiled happily but couldn't help feeling a pang as his thoughts turned to the one person who was missing from their wedding party. Two years had passed since Sherry's death at the hands of Wesker but she was still very much a fixture in his head. He would've loved to have had her in the church right now, sharing his special day. He tried his hardest to push those feelings back down, at least for the mean time. He was concentrating on the fact that he was about to marry the man that he loved with someone who he considered to be his closest friend at his side.
Dennis and Maria were the only members of the small but select wedding party. They hadn't intended to get married in Spain at all but as it was the country where they'd first met, it seemed appropriate and romantic enough without being horrifically sappy. Their original plan was to marry in America with their friends and family present. But, when Leon had agreed to marry Chris, he hadn't banked on the input of the two most fearsome women he'd ever met. Jill and Claire. As soon as they found out about the proposal, they'd become an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. They'd descended on Chris and Leon's shared apartment with an array of wedding magazines and had proceeded to talk in increasingly excited and hyper tones about cakes, flowers, photographers and even wedding china. He and Chris had agreed early on that all they wanted was a nice, simple wedding, not some over the top flashy fairy tale event. That sort of thing just wasn't their style.
They'd tried countless times to explain this to the girls but they wouldn't be dettered. They were relentless in their plans for the wedding to end all weddings. Eventually, after listening to Jill talk for two solid hours about heart shaped vol-au-vents, they put a stop to the whole thing. Leon came up with the idea to elope. They'd decided not to tell anyone where they were going, have a little holiday, and return as a married couple. They knew that Jill, and particularly Claire, would be unhappy about it but they'd though, what the hell, they'd be forgiven eventually.
And it was the eloping idea that had led them to Spain. Leon had called Dennis and he'd been nothing short of miraculous, helping them to find and book the church and allowing them use of his holiday home for the duration of their stay. Maria had also been invaluable to them, finding a nice minister and helping Chris put together his wedding outfit. They were, at last, going to have the wedding they wanted. Small, intimate and quiet. Leon couldn't wait.
A loud insistent trilling suddenly filled the small porch. All eyes turned to Chris who seemed to be the source of the noise. The older man quickly rummaged around in his trouser pocket and pulled out his PDA. He pressed a button and held it to his ear.
"Hello"?
"You answered it"?! Leon hissed incredulously.
"It's the BSAA emergency number" Chris mouthed back at him. Leon let out a growl of frustration. He was about to snatch the infernal thing from his lover's hand when the ringing noise sounded again. This time from his own pocket. It was his own PDA. He pulled it out, ignoring Chris' smug smirk, and checked the screen. Another one of the BSAA's emergency numbers. If they were both being called then it was bound to be something serious. Dennis and Maria watched, baffled, as he answered the call.
Shortly after the events of Africa and Antarctica, Leon had been officially released from his position as a Government agent. They'd been in contact with his mandatory therapist and had expressed strong concerns about his mental state following Sherry's brutal murder. Wanting to leave his post anyway, Leon hadn't argued when his superiors had called him in for a meeting and told him in no uncertain terms that they thought he was no longer up to the job. He'd been released just like that with nothing more than a pat on the back and a thank you for his years of service and hard work. His freedom from the government however, had given him the opportunity to do what he'd decided to do shortly after defeating Wesker. Join the BSAA. The more he'd found out about the sort of work they did, the more it seemed like an attractive career choice. There were nowhere near as many rules and regulations as the Secret Service and he was working with a great bunch of people who'd he gotten to know well since becoming a permanent part of Chris' life. For the past year he'd mainly been doing admin work based in an office which Barry Burton had insisted he do until he completed his therapy. Leon didn't mind one bit. It meant that he finished at the same time every day and could spent more time with Chris who was currently taking an extended break.
The call to his PDA consisted of a voicemail from Barry. Apparently, he was holding an emergency meeting at his cabin in Canada. His grave voice explained that something major had happened and they needed to get to Canada as soon as possible. The message abruptly ended and Leon hung up with a heavy heart. Judging by the expression on Chris' face, the older man felt exactly the same as he did.
"So much for getting married huh"? Chris said disappointedly. Leon nodded. There was no way they'd be able to get married knowing that their friends and colleagues needed them. Barry wasn't the sort of person who liked to create a storm in a teacup. When he called you into action you knew that it was because of something big.
"What's going on"? Maria asked with a frown. "The minister is waiting"
"We're going to have rearrange" Leon said sadly. "Work commitments" He added, trying hard not to sound as bitter as he felt about it.
"Not a problem" Dennis replied, giving Leon a sympathetic pat on the back. "I understand" He gave him an encouraging nod. "We can always sort it out later"
"Thanks Dennis" Leon replied gratefully. He knew that Dennis would understand. He, like Leon, was dedicated to his cause and believed that, as hard as it was, sometimes your personal life had to take a backseat to your work. Maria nodded too, obviously still a bit perplexed but she disappeared back into the church nonetheless, obviously to explain the situation to the minister. Leon hadn't even noticed that Chris had left the porch until the older man came back. He was now clutching a pair of bright red skater trainers. The same trainers, Leon remembered, that Chris had been wearing when they'd first met. A grin was spreading across his face.
"What the-" Leon started to say before he pretty much received his explanation. Chris quickly removed his black dress shoes and slipped on the skater trainers. He held the dress shoes aloft, pulling a face as if the shoes had mortally offended him somehow.
"Thank fuck for that"! He said triumphantly, miming relaxation as he jiggled about in his new footwear.
"You brought your trainers to the church"?
"Course I did" Chris shrugged. "Hid them under the first pew" He'd obviously noticed the reproachful look that he was getting as he said petulantly. "The shoes were too tight! Anyway, there's a romantic reason. These were the trainers I was wearing when I met you"!
"And they smell like it too" Leon complained. "I can't believe that our wedding has just been cancelled and all you can think about is what's on your feet"!
"No"! Chris' reply was shrill and defensive. "Of course I'm bothered that we're not getting married. But I know that someday soon we will and that's enough for me" He pulled Leon close and kissed him deeply. "Love you Agent Honeybunch"
"What did I tell you about using that name"? Leon moaned, breaking their embrace, "I'm not even a secret agent anymore so that name doesn't work" He narrowed his eyes. "Oaf"
"Yeah but you're a BSAA agent now, so it does" Chris replied cheekily as he winked at Leon. "Although, you're not a Captain like I am" He added smugly, puffing his chest out. Leon rolled his eyes. Upon their return from Antarctica, Chris had been promoted to Captain. It was a position he totally deserved and he'd certainly worked hard enough for it but it didn't mean it had any humility about it. He liked to remind people about as much as he possibly could. As far as he was concerned, he wasn't a captain, he was The Captain, capital T, capital C. He grinned at Dennis and handed him the black dress shoes. "As a thank you for everything you've done" He said by way of explanation.
0000000000000000000
Chris couldn't help but feel disappointed that he was returning to America minus a husband. As they boarded the plane that would take them to Canada, then got into the rental Jeep that would take them up to Barry's cabin, Chris realised just how badly he wanted to be married. He'd never seen himself as the marrying type but Leon had changed all that. After seeing how well he'd handled himself in Antarctica, Chris had realised that he wanted to propose and become his husband.
Chris shuddered at the memories that thinking about Antarctica brought up. Unlike Leon, he hadn't opted to see a therapist. He'd been passed about between therapist like a demented parcel shortly after his parents had died and he was determined not to repeat that experience again. Instead, he'd chosen to talk about his fears and worries with Leon. It had worked to cement their already solid relationship. Never before had Chris felt like he could be so open and honest with another person and have someone be open and honest in return. He looked over at Leon who was now leaning back in the Jeep's passenger seat, fast asleep. Chris didn't blame him. They'd been travelling for hours and darkness had already fallen. It had taken god knows how many months for Leon to be able to sleep soundly and not be disturbed by graphic nightmares of Sherry's fatal fall.
As he drove through the endless rows of huge pine trees, Chris couldn't help but wonder why Barry had called the meeting. Barry didn't make a fuss over nothing. He was the most experienced out of everyone that Chris knew and his voice in the voicemail had sounded scarily urgent. What made the situation especially worse was that Barry had arranged for the meeting to be at his own cabin which meant that it was likely to be considered a high security mission. Barry had moved to Canada after the events of the Spencer Mansion in order to keep his family safe. As well as buying a large family home, he'd also purchased a log cabin up in the mountains. If you asked his wife, Kathy, about it then she would say it was where he went for fishing trips. Ask anyone who really knew and they would tell you that it was an important base of operations for the BSAA.
For a fleeting second, the knot of worry in Chris' stomach tightened. His first instinct upon hearing on Barry's voicemail was that it had something to do with Wesker again. It was only afterwards, on their flight, that he realised how ridiculous he was being. Wesker was dead. He'd been there when Leon had killed him. His body had been chopped into pieces with an axe that had been salvaged from a fire cabinet. Whatever it was that Wesker had infected himself with, or how strong and inhuman it had made him, there was no coming back from that sort of death. Especially since a clean-up crew had blown the facility sky high afterwards. As the Jeep rolled into Barry's driveway, Chris felt the knot loosened slightly. Wesker was dead. It felt good to know. After years and years of chasing him, they'd finally ended things and he was no longer a threat. Whatever the news was that Barry had to impart, Chris knew he could deal with it.
Opening the door to Barry's log cabin was like opening the door to another world. A peaceful, cosy, long ago world that modern busy city life seemed to have long forgotten. In the centre of the back wall, a large fire crackled away in the massive fireplace, its embers occasionally escaping the black grating and landing on the thick maroon rug in front of it. The solid oak mantelpiece had some of Barry's personal belongings on top. Silver framed family photos of his wife and daughters and one of the old S.T.A.R.S team. The grey stone chimney breast reached all the way up to the ceiling, nestling between two heavy wooden beams.
Arranged around the fireplace and against one of the other dark brown walls, was a pair of old maroon armchairs and a sofa made from cord material. The fabric was bald and faded in patches and it was obvious that the set had, at one point, taken pride of place in the lounge of Barry's house before migrating up to the cabin once replaced by his wife. Against the other wall was a set of stairs that led to the second floor, more family photos lined up on the wall, this time of his daughter's respective graduation ceremonies. In the centre of the room was a large oak coffee table, which, at this present moment in time, held cups of coffee and a few gun magazines, lazily spread out over the surface. After a few hours of travelling on planes and then the jeep, the cabin was a welcoming sight.
Before Chris could do or say anything, a warm pair of arms descended upon him. Dressed in a soft green jumper and dark blue jeans, Claire pulled him into a hug. She gave him a kiss on his stubbled cheek before releasing him and doing the same thing to Leon who hugged her back just as hard.
"Chris! Leon"! She exclaimed happily.
"Hey Sis" Chris grinned widely as his baby sister. "You're fatter than ever"! He exclaimed, motioning to her heavily pregnant stomach. She frowned at him and stroked her bump defensively.
"Well thanks for that" A familiar, sardonic, voice piped up. Claire's husband, Kevin Ryman, was sitting in one of the armchairs, rolling his eyes expressively yet smiling all the time. "I've only spent the last seven months convincing her that what's happening to her body is natural and beautiful but please, feel free to fuck that up in four words" He said with an idle wave of his hand.
Chris gave Claire a quick, apologetic kiss before he shrugged easily and gave Kevin a playful hit on the shoulder. Kevin was tall and well built and while he was nowhere near as large and muscular as Chris, he could still hold his own in a fight. He had dark, chocolate brown hair that, according to him, had once been longer that Leon's. It was now a lot more respectable, arranged in short spikes. There was a smattering of stubble across his jaw and around his mouth.
"Still working the designer stubble look are we Ryman"? Chris teased as he threw himself into the other arm chair.
"Well someone's gotta show you how it's done Redfield" Kevin replied smugly. He nodded at Leon who took a seat next to Claire. "Alright Kennedy"?
"How about you give it a rest with the surnames"? Chris fired back. "My first name is Chris" He continued as if he was talking to a small child. "And the guy sitting over there with the truly divine can? His name is Leon" He continued haughtily. "You don't see me calling you Ryman all the time now do you"?
"You just did" Kevin pointed out. Chris momentarily seemed wrong footed but quickly recovered himself.
"Whatever you say Kevo" He said with another casual shrug. Claire caught Leon's eye and gave him a withering look that said 'They're-at-it-again'. An outsider wouldn't have guessed that the two guys actually liked each other and that Chris had been Kevin's best man when he'd married Claire.
"So what is it with you Redfield"? Kevin asked, taking great care to enunciate Chris' surname with expression. "You always seem to be able to instantly figure out what annoys someone and you stick to it like glue. It's like you've got some innate ability to do it"
"What can I say"? Chris shrugged and put his feet up, still clad in the bright red skater trainers, on the large coffee table. "So where's Big Fat Barry"? He asked, looking around for any sign of his former S.T.A.R.S colleague.
"He's on the phone to his wife" Claire answered, still stroking her stomach. "Kathy thinks that he's come up her on another one of his fishing trips"
"I'd love to hear you call him Big Fat Barry to his face" Kevin smirked at Chris. "He'd snap you like a twig and man, what I'd give to have a front row ticket to that show"! He snorted. "So anyway, Kennedy, since you're the one in the relationship who actually knows how to behave in social situations, you got any idea why we've all been called here"?
"Nothing more than the voicemail gave away" Leon replied. He liked Kevin a lot and although he hadn't gotten to know him very well, he knew he was a good guy to have around in a crisis. Another survivor of the Racoon City Incident, Kevin was actually supposed to have worked with him as part of the new Special Police Force that Chief Irons had set up to replace the disbanded S.T.A.R.S. After escaping the city, Kevin had spent some time working in Miami as a cop. He'd met Claire there totally by chance when she'd been doing field work for Terrasave . They'd dated for a while before finally marrying a year ago.
"Chris, Leon, you made it" Barry appeared in the log archway that led to the cabin's small yet comfortable kitchen area. He was wearing his usual casual gear, a red checked shirt tucked into blue jeans with a black leather belt. A green trucker cap was placed on top of his head. According to Chris, Barry hadn't changed much since his S.T.A.R.S years. He was heavier and a little more lined and had grey hair dusting his beard and jowls but he still cut a pretty impressive figure, easily towering over most people in the room. "We're just waiting on Jill and Carlos and then I can start explaining why you're all here"
"Since we've got to hang around a bit longer…" Kevin smiled evilly. "Redfield's got a new nickname for you. Isn't that right"? He added teasingly. He grinned at Chris who suddenly began to look uncharacteristically uncomfortable. There was only one person in the entire world who could put the fear of god into Chris and that was Barry Burton.
"Really"? Barry asked with a raised eyebrow. He folded his arms across his broad chest and stared at Chris expectantly. "What nickname would that be"? He asked. His tone wasn't one of interest but more of a resigned sort of attitude that Leon supposed had come from dealing with Chris for years.
"Bad Ass Barry" Chris said it smoothly enough but he still looked a little nervous. "The, uh, baddest man in the whole damn town" He added after a moment of frantic deliberation. "It's not very respectful of the man to call him fat now is it Kevo"? He paused for a moment as if he was truly relishing getting his revenge. "Shame on you for being so unprofessional" He shook his head in disgust.
Barry sighed heavily and muttered something under his breath but didn't press the issue. It was obvious that he was used to Chris and had gone far beyond feeling the need to correct or rebuke him in anyway. Instead he disappeared back into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of brandy and a few glasses as well as some juice for Claire. He laid it out neatly on the coffee table before taking his place at the fireplace, leaning against the mantelpiece.
"So, what were you two up to"? Claire asked Leon, taking a proffered glass of juice from Kevin. "I heard Barry say you were in Spain"
"Holiday" Leon answered at the same time Chris said 'business'. They looked at each other sheepishly. They hadn't discussed what they were going to tell people. Obviously they'd changed out of their wedding suits and into regular hoodies and jeans but they'd both figured the question wouldn't come up. However, when it came to Claire, they should've really known better. "A business holiday" Leon quickly amended. He suddenly showed interest in the photographs on the mantelpiece so that he wouldn't have to look Claire in the eye.
Luckily, a distraction came in the form of the cabin's front door suddenly opening. A very cold looking Jill Valentine entered the room, dressed in black jeans and a tight red parka. A matching red woollen hat was crammed over her head. Her nose and cheeks were bright red with cold. As she was closing the front door, Carlos came in behind her, having to quickly put his hand on the wood to avoid it hitting him in the face. He looked equally as cold in his light jeans and black leather jacket, an olive green scarf tied tightly around his neck. His brown floppy hair was dotted with snowflakes.
Leon couldn't put his finger on it but the mood definitely changed following their arrival. Normally a very happy, easy going couple , the pair seemed to be acting very differently. The others in the room had obviously picked up on this different because they were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs due to the sudden sullen silence that had fallen. Thankfully, Carlos broke it first.
"Hi everyone" He greeted with a definite hint of forced cheerfulness. He looked over at Claire and smiled genuinely. "Hola Claire" He added a little sleazily. Claire simply rolled her eyes and ignored it but Kevin shot him a death glare.
"You make eyes at my wife Oliveira and it'll be the last thing you do" Kevin snapped with only the slightest hint of good nature behind it.
"Fear not Compadre" Carlos replied, holding his hands up defensively. "Why do I need to spend my time looking at other ladies when I have the lovely Jill at my side"? He turned around and smiled broadly at Jill, thus acknowledging her for the first time since their arrival. She shook her head dismissively and pushed past him, taking a seat on the sofa next to Claire.
"Give it up" She said with a tired sigh.
Oblivious to the obvious awkward atmosphere between Jill and Carlos, Barry drained the contents of his glass before standing up and making his way over to the fireplace. The already silent room turned to face him as he began to speak.
"I won't beat about the bush. For a while now, a small contingent of our British BSAA members have been watching a spot on the North Sea on the edge of the Arctic Circle. There's been a lot of regular activity in the last year, helicopters, Container ships, that sort of thing" He announced. Out of the corner of his eye, Leon saw Carlos' attempt to get Jill's attention only to be studiously ignored by her. They'd obviously had some kind of argument. Claire was cuddled up to Kevin and Chris was, for once, listening intently to what Barry was saying. "Now, none of these checked out with any oil, shipping or tourist companies operating in the area but our agents did find out that all the activity seemed to centre around an oil rig which, according to records, has been unmanned and out of action for years" Barry continued to explain, his expression grave. "In the last couple or months, activity surrounding the rig has completely stopped dead. The agents were able to use sonar imaging and they found a huge multi-levelled structure below the oilrig. Now" Barry paused to observe the room. "I know what you're thinking. These sorts of things were built by the United States in the eighties to attack the USSR by launching nukes from under the sea-"
"To be fair Barry" Chris cut in. "I don't think any of us were thinking that" He looked around for confirmation of his point but everyone, Leon included, were too busy focussing on Barry.
"Learn your history" Barry snapped back, effectively shutting Chris up. "But the fact that there was activity up until very recently makes that explanation extremely unlikely"
"So it's another facility"? Leon asked darkly. "Another one of Umbrella's leftovers"? As he said the words, he felt a familiar sickness return to his stomach. His and Chris' naivety over the past year had been nothing short of idiotic. They were so concerned with relief and celebrating Wesker's death at their own hands, they'd missed the bigger picture. Just because Albert Wesker was dead didn't mean the remnants of Umbrella were.
"So what if it's another facility"? Carlos said with a careless shrug. "Wesker's dead. Why bother ourselves with it? It's probably abandoned because he's not around to give his orders or whatever"
Chris snorted.
"Wesker wasn't the only problem Oliveira" He replied as if Carlos was being deliberately stupid. There was something about the older man's tone that made Leon think he was rather relishing putting Carlos right. Chris and Carlos weren't enemies as such, but they weren't exactly friends either. "You of all people should know that" He added. Carlos merely rolled his eyes at this point. Part of the reason that Chris felt some enmity towards him was because Carlos used to be under the employ of Umbrella as part of the U.B.C.S.
"He's right Carlos" Claire said. "Even if I don't agree with how he delivered his point" She gave her brother a dirty look, which he merely shrugged off. "Wesker may be dead but there's going to be some die-hard Umbrella fanatics that continue his work"
"Which is why it needs investigating" Barry said loudly, taking control back as everyone starting chattering away at once, throwing in their points of view. "And that is why I asked you be here. You've all got experience of dealing with Umbrella, which far outweighs that of the British BSAA agents. It's a big location so you're going to need to scout for activity to find out exactly what's going on down there. If it's all clear then you can call in backup and have it destroyed like the Antarctic facility"
"Then why not just destroy it right away"? Carlos asked.
"Well I'd say that's pretty obvious," Chris said haughtily. He opened his mouth to speak but obviously realised that he didn't actually have an answer as he looked at Leon helplessly.
"We don't know who's down there," Barry explained. "The BSAA don't want to harm any innocent people that might've been taken down there against their will"
"Exactly what I was going to say Barry"! Chris exclaimed. He smiled smarmily at Carlos who narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything in return.
"Shut up Chris" Barry said idly as you would do to a persistently naughty child. "Now if everything goes to plan you should be in and out in one night to avoid any unwanted intervention from outsiders. The upside to this whole situation is that we have reason to strongly believe that this is the last of Umbrella's facilities"
"Do the BSAA have permission to carry out demolition in British waters"? Jill asked.
"Good point" Carlos nodded emphatically, obviously hoping to get back into Jill's good books. He reached out to take hold of her hand but she moved it away quickly. Carlos sighed audibly.
"Our British agents will liase with local militaries through our links with the UN to gain permission but as far as I've been told, it's a done deal" Barry answered. He turned his attentions to Leon and Chris. "I know the two of you haven't been on active duty of late but I was hoping you would agree to do this"
"Of course we will" Chris replied confidently with a nod. Leon felt himself nodding along too but he couldn't be as certain and as adamant as his partner. He wanted to bring Umbrella down just as much as the others did but whenever he'd thought about active duty, Sherry's death and the horrible beating Chris had received played in his head like a relentless march. After years of dodging the diagnosis, it was finally on his medical records that he was suffering from PTSD. His therapist had been very reassuring and had helped him achieve a level of functionality after the dark days following Antarctica but he knew that he was far from recovered.
He noticed Barry watching him, looking somewhat doubtful. Leon pushed aside whatever doubts he was feeling and tried to match Chris' confident face. If Barry thought for a second that he wasn't up for the task then he would be forced to stay in America whilst Chris went and that, Leon decided, was a million times worse than whatever Umbrella had left to throw at them.
"Wait a second" Kevin's voice interrupted his thoughts. "There's no way in hell Claire's going"
"I can speak for myself," Claire argued, a frown crossing her delicate features. Leon didn't really know all that much about Chris' sister but he did know that she could be very forceful and kick some ass when she really needed to.
"No arguments honey. You're not going" Kevin's voice had a tone of finality to it. "There is no way I'm going to let you risk our baby or yourself for that matter"
"Well I can't just sit around here waiting for you"! Claire shot back, her eyes filling with tears. She wiped them away fiercely with the sleeve of her jumper.
"You'll be here with me." Barry said simply, causing the rest of the group to look back towards the former S.T.A.R.S member. He'd obviously seen Chris' disappointment and Jill's surprise as he explained. "I'm getting too old to go running around Umbrella's facilities. But don't worry, I have this"! He suddenly brandished a sleek looking black PDA. "I'll be maintaining contact with you throughout your mission. Claire, you can help me. Your contacts in Terrasave may be of use"
Claire nodded, seemingly a lot calmer now. As the others descended into a flurry of chatter about equipment and weaponry, Leon watched as Chris got up from his seat and pulled his sister into a tight hug. She seemed to be getting upset again but as they spoke for a couple of minutes in hushed tones, a smile slowly spread across her face. Leon couldn't help but smile with her. Although he might often play the goon and be frequently annoying, Chris always knew the right thing to say.
The tender moment between the siblings now obviously over, Leon stood up and joined them by the fireplace. Chris had his hands on Claire's stomach and pulled a face as he felt the baby kick.
"That's so gross" He remarked as he pulled his hand away. Leon walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. "I can't believe the baby's gonna be a Ryman" He added mournfully as he leant into Leon's embrace.
"Aw Bro, you know he's always going to be a Redfield at heart" Claire replied with a happy smile.
"It's a boy"? Leon said, giving the back of Chris' neck a quick kiss. "Have you thought of any names"?
"I hate to interrupt but you two have a plane to catch" Barry interjected, placing a hand on Leon's shoulder. "You going to be alright Kid"? He asked it quietly enough, presumably so that Leon could choose to ignore it if he really wanted. Chris, in a rare show of tact, freed himself from Leon's arms and started saying his goodbyes to Claire.
"Fine" Leon replied with a nod, slightly resenting the 'kid' remark. If he didn't respect Barry so much, he might've been tempted to show him how proficient he was with a knife.
"I know we planned on waiting another six months before returning you to active duty but with your Secret Service background, you're indispensable"
Leon nodded again and went to join Chris in saying his goodbyes to Claire. He wasn't entirely ready to face whatever was down there but if Barry was right and this really was Umbrella's last major facility then it would allow him to close the book of what had been a traumatic and eventful period of his life.
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Barry had arranged for the group to meet a pilot in Scotland. This pilot would then take them to the oilrig via helicopter. They caught a domestic flight early the next morning after saying goodbyes to both Barry and Claire who promised they would be in touch. The flight was long and uneventful and they were all glad to get to their hotel rooms to get a good night's sleep before heading out to meet the pilot the following morning.
Barry had booked three rooms for them and, after a quick hot meal; they retired to their respective rooms for the night. Jill and Carlos took one room, Leon and Chris the other and Kevin the final room.
Chris threw himself onto the hard hotel bed and let out a contented sigh. Even though the mattress was stupidly saggy, it was still a lot more comfortable than a hard plane seat. He was trying not to think too much about what they were going to face tomorrow and was instead concentrating on happier things, like destroying the final Umbrella facility, Claire and the baby and, of course, Leon.
"Do you always have to watch me get undressed"? The younger man asked as he stripped down to his boxers. He flung his jeans and t-shirt over the back of a nearby chair before joining Chris on the bed.
"Obviously" Chris replied. "You're pretty hot. Not as hot as me but pretty damn close" He pulled Leon in for a kiss, simultaneously running his hand along the younger man's thigh as he did so. He smiled through the kiss when the felt the goose bumps rise on his partner's sensitive skin. Chris loved how pale and smooth the younger man's skin felt. His left hand continued to trace tiny circles on the inner thigh, his right ghosting over Leon's flat stomach, calloused fingertips rubbing over the shiny pink scar before moving upwards to the whiter scar tissue from the wound he'd received in Raccoon. He knew Leon's skin and body as well as he knew his own.
"Well that's nice to know" Leon said, his hand tightening in the back of Chris' hair and tugging lightly. His other hand dipped down and skimmed the waistband on Chris' boxers or, at least, where the waistband would be if Chris was actually wearing underwear.
"Underpants just slow me down" Chris explained before he reluctantly released Leon's lips and started to make a trail of kisses along the younger man's neck whilst slowly removing his boxers. He knew from experience that one of Leon's weak spots was his neck. As his gentle kisses turned to nips and then to bites, Leon melted into his arms and started to moan, his left hand starting to stroke Chris' rapidly hardening member.
"Oh fuck! Shit! Dios Mio"! A horribly familiar voice gasped from the doorway. Chris let out a growl and looked up. Carlos was standing in the doorway, his brown eyes as wide as saucers.
"What the fuck are you doing Oliveira"? Chris snarled. At the mention of Carlos' name, Leon turned around in Chris arms, careful not to expose himself, to stare at the intruding man.
"Carlos. Since you're part of a couple yourself, I'd have thought you'd have realised what couples get up to in hotel rooms" Leon said levelly.
"Particularly couples as hot as us" Chris added, still sounding and indeed feeling, mightily pissed off. Carlos didn't seem to be making any moves to leave.
"Well that's the problem" Carlos explained, looking away as Leon retrieved his boxers from the floor and put them back on. Chris however, made no moves to cover himself. He was, and there was no denying this, a thing a beauty and if he was too much man for Carlos to handle, well, then that was Carlos' problem not his. "Jill kicked me out of our room"
"And that's our problem why"? Chris asked. This was going to be his last relaxed night for a while and he was damned if he was going to let Carlos Oliveira spoil it. Leon was looking incredibly ravishable right now and he wanted to take full advantage of it.
"I need somewhere to sleep" Carlos said rather sheepishly. "The person behind reception says all of the other rooms are full"
"Go and ask Kevin" Leon suggested helpfully. "He's in a room on his own. He probably has more room than we do"
"What Leon is trying to so tactfully explain" Chris added. "Is that we want to fuck like newlyweds and that, as open-minded as we are, you're not what we had in mind if we were ever going to consider a threesome" He grabbed hold of Leon by the hip and pulled the younger man back down onto the bed. He lightly danced his fingers down the length of his spine, which made Leon shiver with pleasure.
"Well, I wouldn't have put it as…creatively, but yeah, that's pretty much it" Leon said with a nod. "I'm sorry Carlos," He continued, sounding apologetic. "But you can't stay here tonight"
"You heard the man" Chris grinned; now playing with the waistband of the boxer shorts. He was mightily tempted to just rip the damn things off with his teeth. "Now, as your people would say, fucko offo"
Carlos made a noise akin to a snarl before he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Chris nodded triumphantly before turning his full attention back to Leon and his silly little boxer shorts.
"That was slightly harsh" Leon complained as Chris started to kiss his neck once more. He playfully bit the younger man before whispering in his ear.
"Forget Oliveira," He said breathily, his hand wrapping around Leon's hard cock. "I want to fuck you"
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Leon watched the red digits of the black alarm clock change to read 6:25am before he pressed the alarm button. The alarm itself was due to go off at six thirty but he'd already been awake for the best part of an hour. He and Chris had fallen asleep sometime just after midnight having had glorious sex twice. Leon smiled as he remembered some of the things they'd done to each other. Sex with Chris was, he could confidently say, nothing like he'd ever experienced before. Despite the fact that the older man had never been with another man before, he was talented and attentive, knowing and indeed doing all the right things.
Leon rolled over to look at the sleeping bulk of his partner. He longed to reach out and stroke his skin but Chris hated that sort of thing. Whereas Leon found strokes and tickles relaxing and somewhat sensual, Chris found them annoying. He settled for just looking at the older man instead. It was warm in the small hotel room, despite how cold Scotland seemed to be, and Chris was sleeping with the thin white sheet barely covering his genitals. His amazingly muscled torso was mostly on show. The latest addition to his body was a tattoo on the right hand side of his ribcage, a complicated black tribal design stretching the length of his ribcage and ending at his hip. Leon had liked the design so much that he'd had a matching one done on his own body. Another smile played across his lips as he remembered the sex they'd had when he first showed it off to Chris.
He sat up and stretched. He decided to get a shower and try and organise some breakfast before waking the older man. He carefully peeled back the sheets and swung his legs over the bed. He jumped, startled, as his left foot came into contact with something that was definitely not the slightly stained hotel room carpet. The something moaned slightly and uttered a half-unconscious curse in Spanish before rolling over and seemingly going back to sleep. Leon looked down and saw Carlos, still fully dressed, asleep on the floor using Chris' hooded top as a makeshift pillow.
Leon aimed a swift kick at Carlos' ribs. It was calculated so that it was soft enough to not leave any sort of bruising but hard enough to wake him up. Carlos brown eyes shot open and stared up at Leon who glared down at him. Carlos must've sneaked back in at some point during the night. Pervy bastard. Leon was beginning to understand why Chris didn't seem to like him much.
"When did you come back"? He hissed, not wanting to wake Chris up. If possible, he wanted to get Carlos out of the room before Chris woke up and saw him there.
"Only a couple of hours ago" A sheepish looking Carlos replied. "I stayed in the hotel bar until they kicked me out" He pulled himself into a sitting position. "I didn't see anything. Honest"
"I thought you were gonna go to Kevin's room" Leon whispered. Carlos shook his head, running a hand through his already ruffled hair. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them and Leon found himself almost feeling sorry for him. "What's going on with you and Jill anyway"?
Carlos looked as if he was about to explain but a knock at the door stopped him in his tracks. At the sound of the loud knock, Chris sat bolt upright in the bed before collapsing back down, startling both Leon and Carlos. Carlos leapt to his feet, accidentally pulling the sheet with him. Obviously bored of waiting for someone to answer, Kevin strolled in, his mouth twitching as he caught sight of Carlos with the bed sheet tangled round his ankle and Leon frantically groping for something to cover up his nudity before finally settling on a pillow. Chris was watching the scene with amusement, seemingly unfettered by his own naked state.
"What the hell did you guys get up to last night"? Kevin asked, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe. He smirked as Carlos started uttering some explanation about Jill at the same time Leon was trying to explain that no way, not now, not ever, would Carlos Oliveira be part of his and Chris' sex play. "Well whatever you were up to," Kevin continued. "You'd best get ready. We're supposed to be meeting our contact in an hour" He added, checking his watch. Leon took in the older man's appearance. He was already dressed in his tactical gear. Black combats and a black t-shirt with the BSAA logo stitched on either sleeve. "We'll be picking up our weapons on the chopper" He turned to leave. "I'll see you downstairs. I heard they do a pretty good breakfast here" His mouth twitched with a hint of a smile as he added. "Nice ink Kennedy"
Leon felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as Kevin left. He leapt off the bed and pushed past Carlos to look for his boxer shorts.
"You won't find them." Carlos stated, running his hand through his hair and quickly checking his reflection in the mirror above the tiny battered dressing table. He'd obviously sneaked back to his own room at some point during the night as he was dressed in his own BSAA uniform, olive green combats with a tight green top bearing the BSAA logo. It was the same shirt that Chris wore only Leon personally thought that Chris made it look way better.
"What do you mean I won't find them"? Leon asked. He was painfully aware of his nakedness. He wasn't as confident as Chris. He actually gave a damn as to who saw his ass and dick.
"Chris threw them out of the window in a fit of passion last night" Carlos explained. He was facing Leon now but his eyes were thankfully looking anywhere but the pillow currently guarding Leon's privates. "He said you wouldn't need them again 'cos you were never leaving that bed"
If it were possible for Leon's cheeks to get any redder, they would've done right at that moment.
"It concerns me that YOU know that" He said, making for the black canvas bag that Chris had dumped on the floor upon their arrival. Forgetting all about the pillow, he let it drop and started to rummage through the bag, looking for his uniform. "Anyway. You never did tell me what's gone on between you and Jill"
"Search me" Carlos shrugged. "She's a senorita. You and me both know they act loco" He replied. "I came home and she was just annoyed but wouldn't tell me why" He sighed heavily. "I can understand why you'd rather be with a man. Got to be far less complicated"
"You'd think wouldn't you"? Leon muttered as he stepped into his navy blue combats. Having not served on a field mission yet, he hadn't been given a BSAA uniform. Instead he was making do with what was left over from his Government days. He pulled on his black 5.11 tactical shirt before delving into the bag and brought out his handgun.
"Now there's a weapon"! Carlos remarked as Leon checked over the gun. "I thought Kevin said we were getting our weapons on the chopper"?
"You are" Leon replied simply. He tucked the gun down the waistband of his combats and pulled the shirt down over it. If he slipped his hoodie on over the top, it would be safely out of sight.
"Oh I see" Carlos nodded sagely as Leon moved around the side of the bed. "Government issue"?
"Nope" Leon answered. He gave Chris a gentle shake. "C'mon, time to get up" He sighed when no movement came from his lover. "Chris"! He said, shaking more forcefully. He was still aware of Carlos watching him. "Look, are you going to stand there all day"?
"Mmm…that's what I like to hear" Chris suddenly shifted on the bed, his eyes opening, a smile stretching across his face as he saw Leon looking down at him. "The sweet sound of my Honey-Bunch putting Oliveira in his place…" He yawned loudly, scratching his stomach as he did so. "You find your boxers"? He asked with a smug grin as Carlos made a hasty exit.
"Surprisingly no" Leon replied sardonically.
"Excellent" Chris sat up and planted a kiss on Leon's forehead. "The world needs less underwear"
"But the world does need you in clothes" Leon picked his hoodie up from the floor and pulled it on over his head. "So get a move on"
"Sure thing Agent HB"!
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Chris glared contemptuously at the back of the black helmet. The letters 'BSAA' had been stencilled on it in red paint. Chris snorted at that, it was self-importance on the wearer's part. He had an overwhelming urge to rap on the top of the helmet as hard as he could.
"Chris"! A sharp voice momentarily distracted him from radiating his waves of hate at the helmeted pilot. He didn't need to turn around to know that Jill was wearing her most disapproving look. She'd used that tone often enough in their brief relationship and it had almost been accompanied by a disapproving face.
"So what's Redfield's problem anyway"? Kevin asked. The group were in the chopper, somewhere past the Shetland Islands, making their way to the oil rig. Chris and Jill were sitting on one of the benches in the chopper's cramped cabin with Leon, Kevin and Carlos on the opposite side. Carlos had tried to sit next to Jill but she'd pulled Chris down beside her before he could sit down.
"Yeah Chris, what is up"? Leon asked. Chris smiled back at his lover. Between Jill's disapproval and Kevin's mocking grin, Leon's genuine smile was welcome.
"It's Brad" Jill replied shortly before Chris could even open his mouth to reply. Chris rolled his eyes with annoyance. He figured that because he was no longer in a relationship with her, he'd finally get the chance to speak for himself. Turns out that that wasn't the case. She indicated at the black helmet owner with a nod of her head.
"Jill. Please" Chris said. "If you're going to talk about him then refer to him properly. It's The Chicken"
"That's Brad Vickers"? Leon asked incredulously. They'd arrived at the chopper so late that there had been no time for introductions. The blades were already whirring away when they'd arrived and there was no time to do anything other than climb aboard. Chris had been acting a little weird ever since. Now he nodded and smiled at Leon. He knew that his lover would understand. He'd told Leon all about how Brad had stranded Alpha Team during the events of the Spencer Mansion. Chris hadn't seen or heard from Brad since then so it was annoying to find out that he would be their pilot for the mission. "You told me he was short, fat and fucking ugly" Leon paused to remember Chris' exact words. "And that he smelt bad" He added.
"Chris"! Jill exclaimed as if Chris were a naughty child speaking out of turn. "Don't you think it's time you got over yourself? Brad came back and he helped us escape"
"He came back"? Leon's grey eyes looked back at Chris reproachfully. "You didn't tell me that"!
Chris snorted and shrugged. Judging by the look on Leon's face, he'd just lost his support. He supposed, deep down, there was a small part of him that had actually been pleased to see his old S.T.A.R.S colleague again. Not that he was going to admit that to the others of course.
"Guys, check it out" Carlos interrupted, pointing out of the cabin window. "Looks like we're here"
Chris stared out of the window. Below them, a tiny man-made island sat in the middle of the massive expanse of the ocean. The blue waters lapped four, thick cylindrical metal struts that disappeared beneath the depths of the water. Orange and red cranes stuck out from various points along the body of the rig, making it appear, from the air at least, like a demented spider preparing to scuttle across the water's surface. A range of white platforms sitting at different heights made up the rig's body. One of these platforms had a large brown 'H' painted on it. In the middle of the rig was a tall, black metal structure, resembling a ladder from a child's jungle gym. It stretched upwards into the sky, an orange light sitting on top of it.
"Bringing her in now" Brad's voice came from the pilot's seat. Chris felt his stomach turn as the helicopter slowed and started to descend towards the landing pad. It was hard to believe that this seemingly benign construction secretly housed another one of Umbrella's twisted facilities. He looked across the cabin and saw Leon staring at his hands, clad in their leather fingerless gloves. He gave the younger man a nudge with the toe of his boot. Leon looked up at him immediately, his grey eyes unreadable.
'You ok'? Chris mouthed at his lover. Leon responded with a simple nod. Chris however, was far from convinced.
Brad landed the helicopter with apparent ease. The group walked onto the main platform, weapons drawn. The rig seemed, just as Barry had said, deserted. Chris had expected that Brad would leave as soon as he'd dropped them off but, to his surprise, he grabbed his own weapon and joined them.
"You've got to be fucking kidding" He spat. "Really Bradley"?
"Chris"! Jill's tone was, once again, scolding. She was starting to sound like a stuck record. Brad offered him a smile but Chris ignored it.
"Whatever Bradley" He said moodily. "You're only thirteen years late to the fight but better late than never"
Jill looked like she was going to say something again but thought better of it. Chris shoved Brad out of the way and took the lead.
"I'm the Captain here" He snarled. The group moved forward, sweeping the area and keeping an eye out for anything strange. They came to the centre of the rig and were facing the large, ladder like structure that they'd seen from the chopper. Now they were up close, even was even more impressive and expansive. At the base of it was a set of elevator doors that obviously led down into the facility.
"Well, it's now or never guys" Kevin said, pressing the call button. A soft 'ding' indicated that the elevator was on its way.
"Hmm" Jill appeared to be deep in thought. "Don't you think that if there had been a mass evacuation from the facility that the lift would be at the top of the shaft and not at the bottom of it"?
"So what you're saying is-" Chris felt his stomach turn. Jill nodded gravely.
"There's probably people down there and they're probably infected" She continued.
"It doesn't really come as a surprise though does it"? Leon was at Chris' other side, his tone serious. "It's Umbrella. There's going to be something down there. It's just a case of how likely it is to kill us"
"We'll take care of it" Carlos butted in confidently. He held up his Beretta with a grin on his face. "We're well leaded"
"Some of us more than others eh Oliveira"? Kevin said suggestively as the elevator doors opened. He stepped aside. "Ladies first" He nodded at Jill who smiled at him before stepping into the elevator. Carlos glared at Kevin before shoving him aside to follow Jill. "Hey man, just 'cos I know how to treat the ladies"!
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Stepping into the lift was like stepping into another world entirely. In total contrast to the cluttered, industrial look of the oilrig, the lift was white and airy and could've easily fit fifteen people comfortably. The back wall was entirely glass so as the lift started to descend, they could see out. As soon as the lift shaft went below the surface, it too seemed to be constructed entirely from glass so that it resembled a thick, clear tube. They could see the slightly murky waters of the ocean. Upon seeing this for the first time Brad, who had been previously leaning against the back wall, leapt backwards and almost collided with the doors.
"Jesus Bradley, you're not scared are you"? Chris teased as Brad appeared to be looking anywhere but the glass wall. "That's not like you…"
"You ever gonna let the man forget Raccoon"? Carlos asked. He looked over at Jill, obviously hoping that this display of maturity and gallantry for Brad would impress her. If it did, she certainly didn't show it. Instead she looked out of the lift, seemingly interested in the ocean.
"I don't know U.B.C.S" Chris sneered. He took great delight in using another one of his favoured nicknames for Carlos. It wasn't like he hated the guy or anything; he just didn't like the fact that he'd once worked for Umbrella. It was obvious the guy's morals could be dictated by however much money he was offered and, as someone who'd fought the good fight for years with very little to his name because of it, it irked him somewhat. It had bugged him even more when Jill had decided to get together with him. Apparently she didn't care about his past.
A silence fell over the group as the lift continued to descend. Judging by the serious expressions on everyone's faces, they were obviously deep in thought as to what horrors awaited them. Jill and Carlos were staring at the floor, Jill's look thoughtful, Carlos' somewhat blank. Brad was now leant against the doors, his thumbs hooked into his belt loops in an attempt to look casual and relaxed. The effect was ruined by the fact that his hands were visibly shaking. Kevin was looking out into the ocean, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his BSAA top.
Leon looked thoughtful too, staring down at the bump in his glove where his engagement ring sat underneath the soft leather. Chris wondered if the younger man was thinking about Sherry again. Chris stared down at his own, matching ring. He hated to see Leon suffer and it seemed like since they'd met each other, he'd done nothing but suffer. That was why he hadn't been too happy when Leon had told him about wanting to join the BSAA. The day that he'd been released from the Secret Service had been a happy day for Chris. It had given him hope that Leon would take some time out for himself and try to recover from the problems his PTSD brought him. The nightmares had been particularly horrible. It had pained Chris to hear his lover's frightened cries as he was cruelly yanked from sleep by his own mind. The sleeping tablets had helped but then came the flashbacks during the day.
Chris couldn't stand the silence any longer. He needed to say something, anything to try and break it and stop his mind wandering off to think about his lover's mental health. If he thought too much about it, he'd stop the damn lift right at that moment and insist that Brad fly him and Leon back to America. He struggled to think of something to say that might possibly lighten the mood until eventually, something came to him.
"I hate you Brad" He said it simply, casually, almost as if he was having a friendly conversation with a neighbour. Jill rolled her eyes at him and Carlos smirked. Kevin shook his head but also smiled. Leon, obviously wanting to maintain the mature high ground, stifled his chuckle behind his right hand. Brad just looked at him wearily. Chris grinned. It was amazing how quickly Brad had got used to Chris ribbing him again. It was almost like they were back in the S.T.A.R.S office during those good old days when Brad was often the butt of his jokes or pranks. Sure Brad had once taken a week off due to stress but it had all been in good fun. Chris looked over at Jill to see if she was also experiencing this nostalgic feeling but she just looked irritated. Chris held up both of his hands. "Hey, just breaking the tension" He explained. "Anyway" He nodded towards Brad. "He doesn't mind. He would've said if he minded"
"I did used to mind actually…" Brad started but Chris cut him off.
"Bradley. Please. Jill and I were talking" He shook his head in, mock disbelief. "Some people are so rude"
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Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the lift came to a stop. The doors opened up with a gentle ping and, as they stepped out of a lift into the corridor, Leon realised that it was made entirely out of glass. He supposed that if it weren't an Umbrella facility they'd just stepped into, it would be pretty impressive. The corridor curved away from him at both ends, almost as if they were standing in the middle of an inner tube. Leon looked through the glass and out into the murky waters. He could just about make out the other side of the glass ring. If he looked down, he could see dull lights.
"Check this out guys" Leon turned to see Kevin pointing to a large picture frame fixed to the glass wall. Stuck inside the frame was an artists' rendition of what was presumably the facility they were in. Their current location seemed to be the centrepiece of the structure with four lifts, each leading to a separate cylindrical sections labelled, North, South, East and West. Attached to each one of these sections was a diagonal freight lift that attached to the disc, which was labelled 'Maintenance Staff'. The painfully neat line drawing also showed a section that appeared to be underneath the sea bed which had been labelled 'Brig and Generators' in the same neat, sloping script. The drawing reminded Leon of the pictures he'd seen in his Uncle's old Sci-fi fantasy books from the 1960's about people living on the moon.
"Oh this has gotta be another one of Spencer's fucked up ideas" Chris said, regarding the drawing and shaking his head.
"This feels really unsafe" Brad was looking down at the glass beneath his feet as if he was expecting it to crack any minute.
"Where do you want to start then guys?" Kevin asked, motioning to the drawing. Jill seemed to stare at it thoughtfully for a second before she answered. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that Jill was the most organised of the group and therefore the one who would be taking charge. It felt rather jarring to Leon who had been used to working alone for so long to be suddenly part of a group.
"I think we should start on the top levels and work our way down" Jill replied. She tapped the drawing. "Start at the North section here and work our way round clockwise before going down to the Maintenance Staff level," She added thoughtfully.
"Sounds like a plan" Carlos said with a sycophantic nod. Leon couldn't help but smirk as Jill rebuffed him once again. He wondered what Carlos had done and remembered that the older man hadn't actually gotten round to explaining.
"That's a woman's logic for you" Kevin gave Jill a gentle clap on the back. "Infallible" He grinned at her and she blushed slightly and smiled back at him before adjusting her cap and stepping towards the North elevator. Leon heard the low growl from Carlos. So did Kevin.
"What's up Oliveira"? He said teasingly as the group started to follow Jill's lead. "Jealous because I've made your girl laugh more than you've obviously done recently"?
The growl turned to a snarl. Chris and Jill were deep in conversation, completely unaware of the situation. It appeared that although Kevin was teasing, there was possibly some serious tension between the two men.
"They say people are either lovers or fighters" Kevin continued, unaware of just how pissed off Carlos was. "Which are you Oliveira? Cos from where I'm standing, you're neither…"
Luckily, years of Secret Service training meant that Leon was fast. Fast, accurate and very effective. He stopped Carlos just before the older man made a grab for Kevin's throat. Brad, who had been hanging around at the back of the group, suddenly surged forward and grabbed Kevin by the shoulder, turning him away and effectively leading him in the direction of Chris and Jill. Leon gave him a grateful nod. Carlos was squirming in his grip, muttering a hail of curses in a mixture of English and Spanish. Occasionally, the two languages merged, creating new and interesting insults which, had the situation been different, Leon might've found amusing.
"Should've let me strangle him" Carlos said, after Leon finally released him.
"We're supposed to be working as a team," Leon reminded him. "Stop acting like an overly macho idiot" He added harshly. Carlos uttered a final curse before appearing to take Leon's words on board. The pair of them walked behind the others, Carlos continually shooting deadly looks at the back of Kevin's head.
The lift ride to the North section of the facility was, thankfully, a short one. They stepped out into a strange, stark corridor, roughly six metres wide. The floor beneath their feet was black and so highly polished that they could see their blurred reflections in it. It looked as though it was made from expensive marble. The ceiling was the same deep black but the colour was broken up by a wide strip of gleaming silver metal with long strip lights built into it, all the same, painfully precise distance from each other. The light from above bounced off the corridor's walls, which were constructed using the same silver metal as the ceiling. Overall, it gave the corridor a futuristic feel but one that was slightly dated, as if it had been conceived back in the Sixties when people were convinced this was what the buildings of tomorrow would look like.
"This has gotta be one of Spencer's ideas" Chris reiterated, marvelling at how clean the place seemed. Jill nodded her agreement. Chris dragged the tip of his boot across the surface of the black marble, grinning with pleasure when it created an ugly blurry smudge across the floor.
"Small victories huh"? Leon commented. Chris smirked and gave his lover a cocky nod.
"Shit" Jill cursed. She was fiddling with the radio that was attached to her gun belt. She shook her head. "My radio's out. Static on all channels"
Leon checked his own radio and found his had the same problem. Judging by the dismayed looks on the rest of the group's faces, their radios were the same story.
"Great, so now Barry can't contact us" Kevin grumbled.
"And we can't contact each other if we get split up" Jill added darkly.
Carlos was the first of the group to venture forth into the corridor, making a point of shoving Kevin as he did so. He stepped lightly, trying to avoid the inevitable squeak of his boots on the floor. He kept his gun drawn, ready for a surprise attack. The others followed, their own guns drawn, their own feet light. Leon could see Brad's handgun trembling slightly in his grasp. It reminded him painfully of himself upon his arrival in Raccoon. God knows how he kept hold of his gun back then, his fingers were so sweaty. He felt a rush of sympathy for Brad although he barely knew the guy. Chris, on the rare occasions Brad's name had come up, had always been disparaging about his former colleague.
"Ok, so anyone else getting a bit weirded out by the lack of roaming monsters"? Chris asked. "Don't know about you Leon but even Krauser's ugly mug would be a welcome sight now"
"Who's Krauser"? Brad asked as the group moved down the hallway. Leon opened his mouth to answer but Chris got there quicker.
"A jealous ex of Leon's" He said with a perfectly straight face and tone. Brad's eyes widened as he looked at Leon. Chris chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley…you'll believe anything"!
"Shut up Chris" Jill ordered in a matter of fact voice. Leon noticed that Brad's grateful look that he'd directed towards her lingered more than was usually polite. She didn't appear to notice, nor did Carlos. Chris was too busy gloating to care and Kevin was examining a door.
"Can't hear anything on the other side," Kevin said, his ear pressed to the cold steel door. There was a small panel on the side of the wall next to it. Readying his weapon again, Kevin pressed it and the door slid open. The group stepped into the room, one by one, and slowly fanned out.
"Oh Jesus…" Carlos muttered as it dawned on the group just what they had stepped into. Tiled white from floor to ceiling, the room appeared to be some sort of operating room. There were multiple dissection slabs, dappled with streaks of blood that were rust coloured with age. Gutters ran around each table and the only remains of whatever gruesome operations had been performed was the lone body of a large shark laying prone on the table closest to the left hand wall.
"Looks like Umbrella have been up to their old tricks" Kevin commented, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The room, now devoid of human occupation, smelt terrible. A sickening feeling settled in Leon's stomach and he noted, with bitter humour, that the smell of rotting flesh was something that he was used to.
"At least this one's dead" Chris remarked as he slowly edged over to the shark. Staring at the rotting remains of the shark brought back memories he'd thought were long buried. Memories of the flooded basement of the Guardhouse, trying to run in the deep water and ultimately tripping up, all the while trying to stay behind the vicious beasts so they couldn't take a chunk out of his legs or any other part of him they could reach.
"Careful Chris…" Leon warned, following closely behind his lover. Jill, Carlos and Brad were edging around the other wall, still wary in case anything might jump out for a surprise attack. Kevin was still by the doorway, guarding it. He didn't seem all that keen to come further into the room.
Chris, obviously satisfied that the shark no longer posed a threat, moved on quickly towards a row of sinks. Leon stuck close to the wall, noting with interest, a hole in it cover by thick red flaps of plastic. It was quite large and looked like it was possibly some form of disposal hatch, probably for biological waste. He shuddered at the thought of what might be lurking down there, bits and pieces of human and creature alike, dumped heartlessly by Umbrella scientists as though it was worthless trash.
He was closer to the shark now. Close enough to see that it had something sticking out of its thick tail. A syringe. He could see that there was still some liquid left within it, a purple, inky like substance. He moved forwards. If he could get the syringe then maybe they could find a way to analyse it. If it was some new type of virus and they found survivors that were infected, they'd have a better chance of developing an anti-virus if they had a sample of the original virus to start with.
Leon holstered his gun, opting instead for his knife. If the beast wasn't actually dead and made a sudden move, he'd stand a better chance with the knife at such a close range. He unsheathed the shining blade, well looked after, with a black dragon etched at the base of it. His fingers tightened around the grip he knew so well, the knife becoming an extension of his body. He moved forwards and his hand closed around the syringe. He pulled at it and it came away easily.
A sudden, heavy, flapping fin knocked his blade out of his hand. It flew away from him, hitting the wall and landing on the floor with a loud clatter. Chris and the others whipped around, weapons at the ready but it was too late.
Chris felt every single drop of blood in his body turn to ice as he turned around just in time to see the horrible mutant shark thrashing wildly on the slab. The bulky mass that was its tail suddenly collided with Leon's body with such a brutal force that it sent the younger man flying towards the wall. Chris cried out, as Leon suddenly seemed to disappear. He ran forwards blindly, numbly aware of the gunfire around him. Someone was screaming his name, Jill most likely, but all he could think about was Leon. He reached the wall, palms slapping against the tiles as he hit it. The shark was prone now, stilled by the slew of bullets that had been fired into its body.
He wanted to scream when he realised why Leon had disappeared. There was a large hole in the wall, large enough for someone to fall through. He growled as thick plastic flaps tried to prevent him from reaching his lover. He grabbed a handful of them and tore them from the metal frame. He tossed them aside, not caring where they landed. The hole was dark and obviously led to some kind of chute. Chris didn't care, he had to find Leon, he just had to…
Something was stopping him. More of those flaps? No…not flaps, someone, not something. Hands. Strong hands.
"Chris"! A male voice, sounding strained, as if he was using all of his strength to stop him from following Leon. "Get…a…fucking…grip"!
Another pair of hands joined the first and he was being pulled back, pulled away. Away from the hole and away from Leon. He tried to struggle but the two pairs of hands were too strong. One of them held his arms behind his back in a powerful lock, the others on his shoulders, pushing him back from the front.
"Fuck Redfield! How much do you fucking weigh"? Kevin's voice filtered into his consciousness. It was his hands on his shoulders. Kevin fucking Ryman.
"Get off me you floppy haired fucktard"! He bellowed in Kevin's face. He tried to punch him, to get him out of the way. All that mattered was getting down that hole. He remembered the hands that currently had him in an arm lock. He twisted his head round and saw the owner of these hands was Carlos. "And you! Fucking U.B.C.S. fucking Nazi scum! Get the fuck off me! Leon's down there"!
"Chris"! A hand on his face, grabbing his chin. It was a soft hand, a calming hand with a soothing voice. The red mist that had blinded him cleared slightly enough for him to see that it was Jill. Her blue eyes looking straight into his. "Chris you can't follow him…" Her eyes looked away from a moment. "Let him go" And the hands released him. He was vaguely aware of Carlos and Kevin backing away.
"Leon…" Not a name, but a plea. Jill was looking at him now with sorrow in her eyes. He couldn't stand it. Leon was gone. He wanted to break down, to scream, to tear apart the entire place until he found him.
"We'll find out where it goes," Jill said confidently. Chris would've felt a lot more confident if she'd have looked him in the eyes when she said that. He knew Jill. He'd known her long enough to know what that meant.
"No"! A loud, forceful sound that echoed around the room. "He's not dead Jill"
"I didn't-" Jill started to plead her innocence but he shook his head, cutting her off. Ok, so she'd calmed him down and he was grateful for that. It meant that he could clearly see how he was going to sort this out. He moved back towards the chute and saw Kevin and Carlos step forward again. He glared at them.
"I'm not going to leap down there so back the fuck off" He warned. Kevin and Carlos could be frequently stupid but they weren't that stupid. Their movements ceased immediately. Feeling his heart pounding in his chest, Chris leant over the hole. "Leon"! He shouted as loud as he could. "Leon! Can you hear me"? He waited a few seconds. "Leon"! His voice echoed down the chute. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Chris…"
"Jill…if you try and tell me that he's dead, then I swear to God…" Chris replied, still looking into the horrible blackness of the chute.
"We don't know where that goes," She continued gently.
"It looks like it's a chute for clinical waste," A voice piped up from behind them. Chris turned around and Brad was there, one of the torn plastic flaps in his hands. "These flaps have the biohazard symbol printed on them" He held out the flap for them to examine but Chris batted it away. He felt Jill's hand tighten on his shoulder. "If it's a clinical waste chute" Brad continued, seemingly oblivious to how pissed off he was. "Then it could lead to a furnace or a-" Before Brad could finish his sentence; Chris landed a hard punch to his former colleague's jaw. Brad's head snapped back impressively, blood exploding from his bottom lip.
"Leon. Is. Not. Dead"
"Chris"! Jill had released him and had rushed to Brad who was now sprawled on the floor, blood dribbling from his split lip. Jill knelt beside him and extracted a gauze pad from the Medikit she'd attached to her belt. Carlos and Kevin were looking on, a mixture of horror and shock on their faces. Chris glared at them all, breathing heavily. What did he care? He didn't need any of them. The one person he needed had just disappeared down some godforsaken hole in the wall. "Look Chris" Jill was back at his side now, having enlisted Kevin's help to deal with Brad. "None of us want to think about what might've happened to Leon but we all know that it's a real possibility that he won't be coming back-"
"I'll say that to you shall I when Oliveira gets chewed on by a Tyrant or something? See how much you like hearing it" Chris spat bitterly. What the fuck were these people thinking? "I don't care what any of you say. Leon's not dead. And I'm going to go and find him. Fuck what's going on in this place. I don't care. Leon's all that matters to me now. So…" He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the others. "Are any of you going to come with me"?
"I don't think-" Jill started to say but surprisingly; the voice that cut her off wasn't the voice that Chris expected.
"I'll go" Brad had picked himself off the floor and was staring straight at him. The blood staunched gauze pad was still pressed to his lip. Somewhere, underneath his anger, Chris was beginning to feel guilty. He'd always given Brad a hard time, even before the mansion incident. He didn't bully him exactly, but he had often targeted him for practical jokes. And now, when it mattered the most, it wasn't Jill or Kevin that were stepping forward to help him, it was Brad.
"Guys, I really don't think this is a good idea," Jill said as Brad dabbed at his still bleeding lip.
"Look Jill" Chris felt the rumblings of rage building up inside of him. Her words felt like a betrayal. There was a small part of him, deep down, that knew if it hadn't have been Leon that had fallen, then he might've been able to look at the situation logically. It was a long drop; they didn't know where it ended. It could lead to a furnace or straight out into the ocean so even if he had survived the fall it was still very unlikely he'd be alive. But it was because it was Leon that stopped him thinking this. Leon was the most important part of his world and there was no way he was ever going to accept that he had just died. They'd been through so much together in such a relatively short amount of time that it wasn't an option. His brain would simply not compute that the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was no longer breathing. "I really don't care what you think," He continued bluntly. Her face flashed with hurt but he couldn't stop now. "I'm willing to give up on him just yet. You may well be but I'm not" She opened her mouth, obviously to argue but he held up his hand. "You and the others can carry on with the mission but Brad and I will be taking the closest lift to the bottom levels. Leon's down there somewhere and I'm going to go and get him" He'd spotted a door at the opposite end of the room and it seemed as good a place as any to start looking for a lift. He made a move towards it. "I never gave up on you," He added quietly. "Not when everyone, your precious boyfriend included, told me you were dead". He stared her out and she looked at the floor. It was a cheap way of making his point but he didn't care.
Chris' words seemed to have ushered the group into an uncomfortable silence. There was a harsh tension in the air, very different from an hour or so ago when Chris had been teasing Brad. The door that he'd spotted opened into a large corridor that, like the ring before it, was made entirely out of glass. The sight had lost its original wonder, with no-one pausing to stare at the dark depths of the ocean that were clearly visible. They moved along the corridor silently, Chris and Brad bringing up the rear. Brad had dumped the bloody gauze pad and was now sporting an impressively swollen lip. He kept glancing at Chris and giving him little smiles of encouragement. He ended up looking more condescending but at least the thought was there. Jill seemed to be suitably cowed by Chris' earlier words and had snapped straight back into her business-like demeanour, stressing the importance of having their weapons drawn and listening out for people or creatures.
They were about halfway along the corridor, the opposite end's door in sight, when the floor beneath them started to shake. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris could see movement on the other side of the glass. He turned to look, his warning catching in his throat as he caught sight of a large, black mass moving rapidly towards the corridor at an accelerated speed. It was moving so quickly that he couldn't even get a good look at what it was. He heard a frightened gasp and he knew that Brad had seen it too. It moved through the water smoothly, barrelling straight towards them.
"What the fuck is that"? Kevin yelled.
"Move"! Jill screamed. Chris grabbed Brad and the pair leapt backwards. He saw Jill, Carlos and Kevin leap forwards. The creature smashed through the corridor, sending shards of glass flying in all directions. The water burst forth from the broken glass. Chris could hear Jill shouted but the rushing water drowned her words out. Separated by the huge gap in the glass, Chris and Brad had no choice but to go back the way they came. They turned around and saw that a thick, metal shutter was quickly closing, obviously to minimise the flooding. Chris hauled Brad to his feet and the two of them dived through the rapidly closing gap. He heard the shutter clang shut behind them. The water that had made it into the operating room had created a large puddle across the tiled floor.
"Do you-do you think they made it"? Brad stuttered, staring at the shutter in shock. "What was that thing"?
"Don't know. Didn't see" Chris replied breathlessly, shaking the excess water out of his hair. All he did know was that they were now separated from Jill, Carlos and Kevin and that they had no way of contacting them.
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Leon opened his eyes and found himself in darkness. He was laying on his back on something that was very soft and very wet. He could feel something cold soaking through the material of his top. He could remember falling down the chute after the shark started to go beserk. He'd been winded by the shark's tail and he remembered that it felt like he was falling forever before he'd finally landed, the landing knocking him out cold. He gingerly moved each of his limbs, one after the other, quickly ascertaining that nothing was broken. He was lucky, if that was the right word, that whatever he'd landed on had broken his fall.
As he came to his senses, he was hit by a gut churning stench that suddenly inflamed his nostrils. Dread started to bubble up in his stomach when he realised what that smell was. Death. The smell of decaying bodies. It was a smell that had forever haunted his nightmares and flashbacks. Every single one of his nightmares had started like this. Trapped in the darkness with the smell of death all around him. What followed next would be the zombies, clawing at him with their rotting fingers caked in the blood of those they'd already murdered. His hands quickly scrambled for his gun only for him to realise that it wasn't there. He cursed silently. It must've fallen from his gun belt during the fall. His knife was gone too.
With no immediate weapons to hand he was going to have to play this one carefully. He pushed down the thoughts and panic that were trying to overcome his mind. Chris wasn't here. It was just like old times when he had nobody but himself to rely on. He'd done it before and he could do it again. He scrambled to his feet. Icy waves radiated down his spine as his foot sunk down into something wet and soft like mud. Only it wasn't very likely to be mud. The smell was getting hard to ignore. He took another step forward. Something crunched underfoot. If he thought logically about his surroundings then there was only one possible explanation for the terrain and the choking smell. He'd fallen into a body dump. A place where the Umbrella scientists dumped their dead, heaving exhausted their uses.
But how did he know that everything around him was actually dead? The smell alone wasn't enough. Even a relatively fresh zombie smelt rotten. The darkness around him could hold anything. He could feel the sweat starting to run down his back. He took a deep breath, rooting himself in reality. It had been a year since he'd seen active duty and he couldn't believe how out of practice it made him feel. He told himself that he still had things stored in his muscle memory. He could still kick ass. If he wanted to, he could take down as many zombies as it took to find the exit. He was determined to survive and prove Barry's doubts about his abilities. More than anything he was going to get back to Chris.
If he was right and he was in a body dump then it meant that the room couldn't be that big. All he needed to do was reach one of the walls. If he did that, he could work his way around the room until he found the door. He moved slowly and cautiously, his arms outstretched and groping, waiting to come into contact with something solid. The only sounds in the whole room were hit boots wading through the decaying remains of the dead and his breathing which was hitched and tense. He felt as if he were on high alert, listening out for the tell tale moans of the living dead or the clicking of claws as something skittered across the floor towards him. Every step he took was tentative and each time he moved, he prodded the floor in front of him with the toe of his boot first. It felt like he was walking across a field full of potholes that had been covered with a thick duvet. His stomach churned as he felt his combats become saturated with the viscous fluids from the bodies.
His hands suddenly came into contact with cold metal. He spread his palms across it and almost laughed with relief when he realised that he'd found one of the walls at last. He leant against it, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. The muscles in his jaw were starting to ache from keeping his teeth clenched. He moved his right boot and something underneath it popped, unleashing a fresh wave of the rancid stench. Bile rose in his throat and he had to fight hard to keep the contents of his stomach in check.
He started sidestepping to the left, slowly working his way around the wall. Every so often his boot would come into contact with something that would split or burst underfoot releasing more of the noxious smell of decay. His fingers clenched against the wall. In the darkness it was so much harder to tell himself that he wasn't in Raccoon City. But if it was Raccoon, which one? The original in all its glory with hoards of gruesome monsters ready to tear him apart? Where he had to fire a gun at a human for the first time? Or was it Wesker's twisted version. Constructed to torture him and mess with his head before their final confrontation with him and Sherry's death.
Oh god how he wished Chris was here. Sherry had never been, and still wasn't, a place where his head could go. He moved past a corner and onto the next wall, fear stabbing at his heart when a bone crunched under his boots. The same crunch he'd heard as Sherry's head hit the ground. He's in dark waters now, swimming through memories and feelings that threaten to drown him. Wesker, dressed all in black, smirking as they try to kill him and he won't die, he won't stay the fuck down.
After what felt like an age, he felt something sticking in his waist. It was cold and hard. The door handle! He wrenched it open, gripping the handle so hard that if felt like his knuckles were going to burst free from his skin. He ran through the open doorway and slammed the door behind him. He didn't need to see what he'd left behind. The sudden light hurt his eyes but it was also like waking up and coming back to reality. He appeared to be in a cramped corridor, the sort that might lead to a boiler room. It was lined with pipes and valves. He looked down to see that he was standing knee deep in murky water that had a distinctly chemical smell. He took a few deep breaths, relishing in the fact that after the body dump, this corridor smelled quite fresh.
He needed to work out how he was going to get back to Chris and the others. This corridor was a stark contrast to the ones on the higher levels. It was painted dark grey and lined with the networks of pipes and valves. It obviously wasn't a corridor where anyone of significant importance was supposed to tread. The slight flooding probably had something to do with why the facility seemed deserted. A bitter smile crossed his features. Probably some sort of the leak. That old chestnut. He started to wade through the water, hoping that whatever chemical was in it, wouldn't start eating away at his flesh.
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"Well isn't that just perfect" Kevin spat sarcastically as the shutter clanged shut behind them. "We've been separated" He plucked at his soaking wet BSAA uniform in disgust. "And I could've stayed at home with my wife and child but, oh no, good old Kevin, always thinking of the greater good" He helped Jill to her feet. "So, are we all good or is anyone bleeding to death"?
"I'm fine" Jill answered.
"Me too" Carlos replied. He attempted to help Jill wring out the front of her top but she batted him away irritably. Kevin saw and rolled his eyes expressively.
"Well I sure picked the short straw when it came to colleagues" He said. "The two that won't even talk to each other" He looked at them both levelly. "Why won't you talk to each other anyway? We're obviously missing something so, care to fill me in"?
"It's none of your business" Jill and Carlos both snapped at the same time. Kevin smirked at the pair of them.
"See"? He teased. "You can agree on something! But seriously Jill, can you at least talk to him? You don't have to like him, hell, none of us do but for the sake of the mission it would really help it if you could both communicate" He offered them a grin. "You sure you don't wanna tell me what he's done? I'm sure whatever it is, he's very sorry and won't do it again"
"I'd kinda like to know what I've done too" Carlos said, looking at Jill who shook her head at him dismissively.
"Well if you don't know, I'm not telling you" She said, folding her arms across her chest. Carlos snorted and Kevin howled in frustration. "But you do have a point Kevin. We have more important things to worry about now" She turned on her heel and started to stalk down the corridor they'd dived into. It was the same as the one that had originally led to the operating room. Doors lined either side of it and each one had a name printed on it in black lettering.
"Archimedes Room, Dopel Room, Curie Room, Newton Room, what's with the weird room names"? Kevin asked, reading some of the doors. "Do you think they're the offices of the scientists"?
"They're famous physicists" Carlos replied quietly. "All famous for their notable achievements" He added. "We've probably found the research department"
"How the hell did YOU know something like that"? Kevin asked with open shock. Carlos shrugged but didn't comment. There was obviously a lot more to him than Kevin had ever given him credit for. "Well, on that slightly surreal note, which one shall we try first"?
Jill nodded towards the door closest to them, the Archimedes Room. Kevin pressed himself against the door, his hand on the doorknob. He nodded to Carlos who drew his gun. Just because the facility seemed deserted didn't mean that it actually was. Kevin suddenly pushed open the door and burst into the room. Jill followed close behind and Carlos stayed in the hallway on guard duty. Fortunately, the room was completely empty. There were marks on the maroon carpet where a desk and filing cabinet had obviously once stood. The only sign of occupation was a stack of disturbed papers in a corner that looked like they been torn out of a filing cabinet.
"I wonder what happened here" Jill thought aloud as she approached the papers.
"Probably someone who had the sense to resign" Kevin said with a shrug. "Are we all clear Carlos"?
"Everything's bueno out here" Carlos called back.
Jill shuffled through stack of papers. Each sheet was dated and written in the same neat, sloping script. As she knelt down to read them, it became obvious that she was reading a diary that had been torn apart. The few entries chronicled the owner's daily movements but nothing at all about their work within the facility. As she read on, it became clear that the diary's owner was having problems with some of the other researchers. The owner complained about feeling bullied and isolated and the entries were becoming more and more filled with paranoia about how the owner thought their work was being stolen. There was a gap of two weeks in the dates. The next entry took a far more sinister turn.
15th July
Oh Diary, they looked so pretty. Brains and blood splattered across the floor. They thought that using my own gas against me would scupper my research. Little did they know how powerful it would make me…and now, now they're all dead. They begged for their lives diary and it was glorious. It made me all the more determined to end their worthless lives…
Jill's stomach turned and she quickly crumpled up the page. Was this the reason why the facility was so deserted? The actions of one researcher gone mad? If that was the case then what had happened to them?
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It didn't take Chris and Brad very long to come across another elevator. They'd backtracked through the operating room and to the first corridor they'd originally been in. They'd followed it along until it had turned a corner. It was here that they'd found an elevator. They'd rushed in and taken it to the lowest floor that it would go. It turned out to be the maintenance floor and they'd stepped out into some sort of recreation area. It was a large rectangular room with dull metallic walls. They only windows were small brass portholes, evenly spaced out along the walls. At the opposite end of the room was a large door. A metal gantry encircled the room with metal grill to the right which led up to it. To their left were a couple of pool tables and in the back corner, a small bar which looked as if it had been hastily constructed using spare plywood. Tarnished metal chairs and tables were dotted around the room. Some had glasses atop them and others had playing cards, chess sets or draughts, all laid out like they were in the middle of a game and had been quickly abandoned.
"I think it's safe to say that there was an outbreak of some kind here" Brad mused. Since they'd been separated from the others, they'd largely been silent. Chris just shrugged at his comment. All he cared about was finding Leon. He supposed a small part of him felt bad for what he'd said to Jill but he also felt that, at the time, she'd deserved every word.
"So Bradley, what have you been up to then"? He said grudgingly. He didn't really give a damn but he couldn't stand the awkward silence anymore. If he could distract himself talking about any old crap, then his mind couldn't constantly play through the different scenarios that could've happened to Leon. Each one was more terrifying than the last. Sure Leon could handle himself in a fight but what if he'd been knocked out by the fall? He wouldn't stand a chance. He shook his head to try and escape the thought and continued. "What did you do before some idiot let you join the BSAA? I mean, I'm assuming you bought your way in but that's another story"
"I was a security guard for a while" Brad replied, sweeping the room with his gun as he spoke. There didn't seem to be anyone about but they couldn't afford to get complacent.
"So you failed to get into the British police force then"? Chris said, matter of factly, fingering one of the chess pieces on the table. Leon was a proficient chess player. It wasn't a game that he'd ever taken the time to understand. He flicked the piece, the bishop he recalled, over and moved on.
"No"! Brad's tone was a little too high pitched, a little too defensive and Chris knew he'd hit the nail right on the head. "I wanted to be a security guard actually-"
"Yeah" Chris said sarcastically with a smug grin. "Just like every other security guard. They all wanted to be a security guard first. Honestly Bradley, you shouldn't have wasted your time"
"So, uh, how long have you and Leon been together"? Brad asked, obviously wanting to direct the conversation away from his failed attempt at becoming a police officer. Chris made a mental note to forcibly extract the information later on.
"Two years" Chris answered. He didn't really want to start on the subject of Leon. It was so much easier to tease Brad than to think about his lover.
"And when did you realise you liked guys"? Brad asked delicately.
"Probably around the same time you realised you weren't getting into the police" Chris shot back with a grin. "What made you leave America anyway"?
"Don't know" Brad shrugged. He was obviously trying to come across as flippant but Chris wasn't fooled for a second. "There wasn't really much left for me in America so I figured why not" He moved towards the makeshift bar, ready to shoot anything that might be hiding behind it. "And I'd always wanted to see England"
"You got family there or something"? Chris scanned the bar for any remaining bottles of alcohol. A good shot of whiskey would be just the ticket right about now.
"No" Brad was behind the bar now. Behind him was a basic shelf with rows and rows of clean glasses underneath the bar top and another shelf that had been fixed to the wall which held various empty bottles of spirits. There was an empty cardboard box by his feet that looked like it had once contained packets of nuts. His stomach rumbled in earnest. "My family died in Raccoon" He said quietly.
Chris almost dropped his gun. He looked at his former colleague who was now studying the nearby vending machines with an unnatural amount of interest. He and Brad had never had a close working relationship. Forrest, Kenneth, Barry and Jill, they'd been his closest friends in S.T.A.R.S. Brad had been the fall guy, the guy who'd always been the butt of his jokes, more of an acquaintance than a friend. And then, after the Mansion Incident, he'd been the guy that let them all down. It hadn't mattered to him that Brad had eventually come back to rescue them. It was the fact that he'd been yellow enough to desert them in the first place. Being ex-military, Chris had a strong sense of team work and he'd been trained to never leave anyone behind. If you couldn't trust your fellow soldiers, you couldn't trust anyone. Brad's desertion had been hard for him to take. In all the years he'd had to think about it, he'd never once given a thought to what Brad might've lost during the outbreak.
"Check out these vending machines" Brad said. Chris blinked and came back to the present. He hurried over to the machines. "They've been pried open" And sure enough, both of the doors of the machines were hanging open slightly. They were completely empty. It had obviously been looted at some point but not in a clumsy way. Whoever had opened it certainly had some lock picking ability.
"So we're not alone after all"
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The further Leon moved down the corridor, the more un-nerved he was becoming. Luckily for him, the chemical in the water was too diluted to do him any harm, but he was acutely aware of how impossible it was to move through it silently. Noise wasn't something that he really wanted to be making considering that he was unarmed and had no idea what might be around the next bend. He was keeping his eye out for something he could use as a makeshift weapon but hadn't had much luck so far. He'd been tempted to go back to the body dump and try and locate his gun but he knew it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
He felt all the blood in his veins suddenly turn to ice when, a couple of metres ahead of him, one of the walls was streaked with blood. It was fresh, dribbling down the water and dripping into the water below. He couldn't turn back. Chances were, he'd taken the only exit out of the body dump. He stepped forwards, slowly this time, trying to keep any sound he was making to the absolute minimum. As he moved down the corridor, the blood streaks increased in both size and frequency. It looked like whatever had been attacked had put up a pretty violent fight for its life. Something suddenly knocked against his thigh and, with immense trepidation, he looked down. His stomach turned as he saw that it was a lump of bloody meat. He couldn't tell whether or not it was human. Further down the corridor, he could see more of these dark lumps floating in the water.
He paused. Thinking that he'd heard something. He was right. There was movement in the water that wasn't him. It sounded like it was further along that he was but it was impossible to tell whether the noise was human or not. There were no other sounds than that of its movement through the water, much like his own. His heart started hammering in his chest. He needed a weapon and he needed one fast. He didn't wanted to take the chance on his hand-to-hand skills. Whatever was ahead was likely responsible for the lumps of meat floating around him.
He took another tentative step forward and his boot came into contact with something hard, almost making him stumble. He squinted in the half-light and could just about see something round on the floor beneath the water. With slightly trembling fingers, he reached down into the murky water and picked it up. His hand closed around cold metal. He pulled it up out of the water. It was a valve handle! It was a heavy one at that. It had obviously been torn from one of the walls, probably in the struggle. It wasn't an ideal weapon but it was better than nothing.
The splashing noise was louder now. Whatever was making it was coming his way and fast. He flattened himself against the wall, wincing slightly as his back came into contact with the cold surface. He looked up at the network of pipes running across the ceiling. If he needed to, he could jump for one of them and hold on to it to haul himself up and hide on the ceiling. The light was certainly poor enough for hide his form. He wondered if whatever was after him had smelt him. His clothes, arms and face were covered in a disgusting mix of fluids from the bodies that he'd landed on and he smelt utterly foul.
He froze as a deep, throaty growl rumbled along the corridor. He saw movement in the shadows ahead. Definitely not human. He tightened his grip on the valve handle. His body moved into an attack stance as the splashing grew louder and louder until finally, the light hit the thing which had torn the body to pieces.
It stood mere metres away from him, taking up a large portion of the corridor's limited space. The creature reminded him of the ones he'd met in Wesker's recreation of the mansion. Hunters, Chris had called them. Only, unlike the Hunters, this creature was taller by at least a clear foot. It resembled a giant crab, hard shell plating covering most of its body. It stood on two, thick, solid looking legs. Its arms, again heavily plated, ended in vicious looking pincers that were covered in blood. It didn't appear to have a head. Its torso was topped instead by a large disc shaped shell that acted like a hood to a small, pink face, which appeared to be the only part of it that wasn't armoured. Leon could see a row of thick, sharp teeth sticking out either side of a dark vertical line that was its mouth. It appeared to have noticed him as it let out another throaty growl. A thick tail that hung between its legs twitched, little spines quivering all the way along it. Its pincers opened and closed again, flexing whilst it considered its attack. Leon considered his own options. There was no way the valve handle would be able to crack the shell, no matter how hard he swung it. By the looks of it, the plating was at least an inch thick. Its weak spot seemed to be its face and if Leon had had a gun at his disposal, then he would've been able to hit the damn thing square in its face and killed it.
The creature suddenly lunged towards him. One small mercy was that it seemed to be very slow and lumbering. It shambled down the corridor towards him. Leon swung the valve handle as he could, hitting it directly in its exposed face. It let out a cry of pain and stumbled backwards. It's flailing arms struck out and Leon had to quickly duck to avoid them. He swung out with the handle again, this time aiming for the creature's knees. He hit his target, effectively sweeping the creature's legs out from under it. It crashed to the floor, splashing and writhing in the water. One of its claws glanced his leg, cutting into his thigh. He hissed in pain as he felt the blood start to trickle down his skin.
The creature was on its back, flailing like a stuck beetle. Leon swung the handle a third time, hitting it again on its exposed face, causing blood to erupt from its mouth. It sprayed his face and arms and he closed his mouth quickly to avoid getting a mouthful. It lay there, seemingly dazed. Leon cursed his lack of gun and knife. He couldn't stick the valve handle through its face to finish it off. It started to thrash again suddenly and one of its armoured limbs struck Leon in the back of the knee and he crashed to the floor. He put his hands out quickly to break his fall but it didn't stop him from getting a mouthful of the dirty, fetid water. It had a slightly bleach like taste and he spat it out immediately. He scrambled back to his feet, almost tripping over something in the water. Instinctively, he reached down and grabbed it whilst the monster continued to struggle to right itself.
A surge of hope flared in his stomach. He'd grabbed a length of broken pipe! It was short and thick with a horribly jagged edge at one end. It was perfect. He turned around, ignoring the pain in his thigh. He leapt towards the struggling creature, dodging its limbs as he stood aside it. It hissed and spat at him, making a noise akin to nails being dragged down a chalkboard. Using as much strength as he could muster, he drove the sharp edge of the broken pipe straight into the creature's bloody face. He heard the noise he was waiting for, the sickening crunch of the creature's skull shattering. It twitched for a few seconds as Leon stepped backwards, its body twitching and writhing for finally falling still. The pipe stayed lodged in its face, buried deep into its brain.
Breathing heavily, Leon collapsed against the wall. This time, the contact of the cool metal against his back was welcome. He'd worked up quite a sweat fighting the creature. He stared down at its dead body and felt a surge of pride that he still had it in him to take something like that out despite being away from the field for a year. He turned his attentions to his thigh, which seemed to have stopped bleeding. The blood had clotted to the material of his combats, creating a seal. He was worried about the filthy water. Deciding to give the wound a quick clean, he fumbled in his gun belt for some spray. He'd finally located it and was pulling it out of its pouch when something hard him over the head. His legs buckled under his him and the last thing he remembered was the sound of maniacal laughter.
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
