June 1998 –

1 Month after the Arklay Mansion Outbreak

4 Months til Raccoon City Oubtreak

"Accept," though her Father was an ocean away, she could feel the pressured over the phone. Never mind that she'd been trying to explain that even though the match was ideal, the timing was not. Her Father could not seem to wrap his mind around her grief at Kaplan's loss any more than he could have wrapped his mind around why she'd been content in her match with Kaplan. That certainly wasn't the case with Operations Director Timothy Cain.

The body had never been recovered but since she'd laid him to rest at a memorial Cain had been pressing himself into every bit of her life he could: he visited her frequently at work whether he had cause or not, he invited her out often doing so in such a way that she could scarcely refuse short of being rude, and even showed at her house though she'd try to make it clear she didn't much care for his presence in her personal life. He was charming enough but there was something about him that rang false, he didn't seem to be the genuine issue as Kaplan did.

Cain was attractive but that wasn't enough for her. She supposed her real problem with him was that he worked relentlessly to get what he wanted, was well accustomed to getting what he wanted, and in this case he wanted her. To make matters worse he pressed for every advantage he had and in this case he had the approval of her Father, "I'll talk to you later. I've got to get back to work."

As she pressed the End Call button on the touch screen she reflected upon the fact that she had more pressing things to worry about than her social life and a stalker – bizarre murders were happening in and around Raccoon City. Her eyes intently scoured the pages of the newspaper she just bought for details but a few moments later she sighed in disgust, the reports were grossly inept for her to make a proper evaluation. She threw the paper on the desk where it landed on top of another paper dated three weeks previous.

Cannibalistic murders?

Well she knew far too many creations that fit that bill.

Despite the poor speculations and lack of details she had her worst suspicions confirmed. Something had been leaked in the Hive, the Red Queen had reacted hastily but failed to respond following the crisis, and Cain had, against her advice and wishes, released something bad. Maybe she'd take that lunch date after all, it would give them time to have a little chat. She reached for her phone and started dialing his number, he didn't answer and the voicemail came right on which was fine for her, "Hey Cain," she crossed her legs gracefully beneath her desk, "I think I'll be open for the luncheon date after all. 12:30 at Rosetti's"

Then she hung up confident that he'd make it, he wouldn't dare not, standing her up would be a fatal flaw after all his efforts to court her to this date and time. It was currently 9:00 AM much to early to leave but she wasn't much in the mood for work. She gently pressed her teeth against her lower lip, biting into it softly as she thought what to do in the interim and finally decided to concentrate her energies towards planning her interrogation of Cain concerning operations involving the Hive but first, she thought she'd take a peek around the Mansion for herself.

To date, Cain had never been on time nor early for that matter so it surprised her to see he had not only received her message but also responded to it promptly. Their table was partially hidden from view by a swath of curtain and as she approached she noticed why. Her Father sat shielded from view by the cloth; she instantly stiffened in surprise and tried not to feel angered at being the last to know he was stateside. She recovered, masking her displeasure as he proffered his hand to her; she took it in her own and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Rigidly she took her seat, "Father...I didn't know you were in town."

"I had business to attend to with Cain but when he mentioned he had a lunch engagement with you I decided to stay a bit longer."

"I see," she was far from surprised that his business took precedence over his family.

"Valete, have you made a decision concerning 'us'?"

She had not. He'd privately proposed to her over a week ago and it had been a good thing for his ego that he had so he hadn't been forced to weather rejection on a publically humiliating scale. Since then she'd been weighing pros and cons and not liking how they matched up, not liking the odds enough to give him an affirmative answer. Frankly she was wondering if her Father had been brought in to personally stress the advantages of the match, "I haven't actually."

"Which is beyond me," Spencer said, "the match speaks for itself in more ways than one. For the family, we gain a powerful ally. For you, you gain stability, wealth, and influence. For Genevieve, a Father figure. For the media, a bone to pick at besides these 'cannibalistic murderers', and last but not least it serves a purpose for the masses, these murderers can be put to rest more readily if security," he reached for her hand, "and operations," he reached for Cain, "worked intimately hand and hand, combining their efforts to obtain a shared objective."

Furious that she could not shoot down his argument she still didn't assent immediately but she didn't rip her hand away either though she desperately wanted to. Cain's thumb was stroking over her skin, a gesture that made her shiver in revulsion that he mistook for pleasure, a smile slid into place on his face. She was so tempted to say no, right then and there and fling his proposal into his fact at long last. It would definitely give her smug satisfaction but then she would have turned down all the benefits the match could bring. To reject the match was ultimately selfish.

Frankly she knew the public was uneasy and could use a diversion from the grisly murders plaguing the area and she could definitely make use of it to gain some breathing room. This crisis would be solved much quicker if they worked in unison, they'd save time and energy, be able to share their collective resources, and use their individual skills efficiently. Though Cain was far from the perfect role model for Veva, he was far from the worse. That was the most compelling reason, deep down; it was for the public she decided to marry. Besides she could reap the benefits in the present and later decide to divorce if she so chose and premarital agreements were wonderful things, she could limit what he could get before the marriage even could take place.

Exhaling, she nodded, it was a barely noticeable movement but Cain had his eyes fixated on her so intently that he wouldn't have missed it. He reached in his pocket and proffered her a ring, sliding the cold, bare gold into place on her left finger until it hit another ring. In sharp contrast, this one was silver and ornate in color and design. Interlaced webs of silver branched over a small ovular opal fixing it in place upon the ring; another band given to her on her wedding day was fixed with two diamonds that cradled the opal between them. Cain reached for the ring which was offensive in nature because it represented the claim that a dead man had previously held. Before she could stop herself, she spoke up in a commanding tone, "Don't!" and before he could recover she pulled her hand away, eyeing the golden circlet with the same distaste she reserved for Cain.

Cain recovered hastily, "I can't wait for our marriage."

"Excuse me," her Father rose from his place, leaving them alone, the tension in the air was almost thick enough to walk on.

Valete gazed at her plate, no longer even remotely hungry, "My lawyer will be in touch by the end of the day. He will give you a proper understanding of my assets and see to the drafting of the premarital agreement."

"Premarital agreement? Surely that isn't necessary..."

"Oh but it is, I have issue with a prior spouse, an issue which is due to inherit before any second spouse. You don't have to sign but you will if you want this marriage. Refuse to sign if you wish, your refusal won't upset me a bit after all it is you and my Father that wants this marriage."

Cain looked at her coldly, "I see you make sure that there is no misunderstanding where your feelings lie."

"No, misunderstandings are most inconvenient and are borne of lapses in communication which brings me to why I am here. What did you not understand about my advice concerning the Hive? All you had to do was be patient, in six months you would have been able to have your answers without compromising the public. Now we have this," she slapped pictures on the table, fresh from being privately developed. Things had been worse than she had thought; she'd not made it very far into the mansion before she'd been forced to leave due to her lack of escort. Not that it mattered, being bitten wouldn't adversely affect her when she was injected with the T virus on a quarterly basis but she had felt it prudent to get out while she could. Those infected would feed off one another if they had to but if 'living fare' was present they'd definitely prefer feeding off the living thus she'd left after getting the evidence she wanted for this very confrontation.

Cain looked half caught between shock, rage, dismay, and fear. No doubt her Father would be livid if he found out she'd been able to go to the mansion without his knowing or proper protection. Spencer would also be hot if he saw these pictures, this evidence out in the open. Cain reached to gather the pictures up but Valete retrieved them first, her eyes demanding answers but he countered with a question of his own, "What were you doing on the mansion grounds? ALONE? WITHOUT PROTECTION?!"

"It is family property, MY property in fact if you've ever read the deed. It is not trespassing."

"It is trespassing if you are unwelcome there!"

"Am I unwelcomed? Why would I be unwelcome? Pray tell!" with no answer forthcoming she reverted back to her previous line of questioning and he yielded reluctant answers knowing there was no way to dissuade her and very much preferring to finish this conversation before her Father came back, "How many made it out?"

Cain responded swiftly, thought she was grilling him hard, he didn't look too intimidated. No doubt he had to answer to her Father earlier and he was much higher up than she, "Not many, a majority of them we were able to keep contained within the Arklay Mansion which we lost altogether."

"The casualty rate? How many employees were lost? Did any get out?"

"No, it was 100% loss but that was considered acceptable and preferable to the alternative of an outbreak beyond the mansion."

"Oh but there is an outbreak beyond the mansion, one that hasn't been as well contained as you thought," she slammed the newspapers down next the titles bold print jumping off the page: one read Bizarre Murders Committed In Raccoon City, and the other read Horror In Raccoon! More Victims Dead, Two of the first victims had been two little girls with their whole lives ahead of them and two little girls who reminded her too much of little Veva. She blinked back the tears threatening to come, her eyes simmering with barely controlled rage in place of tears she refused to shed, "100% loss and its ALL, YOUR, FAULT!"

"It is no issue, life is cheap, and we can easily replace the labor lost."

"That is besides the point, there would've been NO losses had you listened to me," she hissed but frankly she could see this conversation was pointless, it was clear he wasn't likely to accept personal responsibility for any of the individuals lost, he obviously didn't care, period.

All in all, despite the loss of the Hive and Arklay laboratories, he was pleased with the days work. Getting Valete to agree to a second marriage had been crucial to his plans to resolve these loose ends though Spencer had other reasons for pushing the match as well – he wanted a reliable pair of eyes on Research & Development. Based on the recent reports William's paranoia seemed to be getting worse and worse, it would be all for the better if someone would keep their eyes on William Birkin and his 'G' Project. The preferred candidate for this role had always been Valete but of late doubt had been cast upon her too. After working with the Birkins for years he sometimes doubted the loyalty of 'Valete'. Though the AI was programmed to be loyal he didn't blindly trust that would keep him safe from betrayal. More often than not, she did too well a job at portraying Valete and appeared to take on more of her host's rebellious tendencies than desired. Cain would report if anything were amiss.

To his relief he'd been right to assume that the AI would calculate and agree to a reduction in secrecy to bring a swift end to the outbreak. Hopefully this reduction would be enough to give Cain and his operatives the ideal opening to keep William and Annette Birkin in line. It had also crossed his mind to offer William the incentive of more guards to keep his research safe but he knew that Birkin would be unlikely to welcome in newcomers especially armed newcomers. It had taken Valete years to infiltrate and be admitted into William's inner circle and even that had been a stroke of luck. No, for now, he'd have to be satisfied that Valete had given him even a small opening.

The AI was the other reason he'd pushed the match, he wanted eyes on the Empress especially now. He hadn't yet told Cain the truth about Valete, he still wasn't sure he trusted him enough for that but if any vestige of the Empress remained it might make Valete act strange. At the time of her implantation the Empress was a blank slate but she'd kept her quarantine protocols. At the time it seemed like a good idea until he'd seen what the Red Queen did. Then he saw that the elevated instincts of an AI could be dangerous and the Empress more so because she had a body and was among the public. Perhaps she'd outlived her usefulness; perhaps it was time to think about recalling her for good.

Lunch was a strangely somber affair for being an engagement celebration. Valete mainly pushed her food around her plate until finally the waiters came back around to collect the dishes. She rose and barely took three steps before she realized that there was a media circus out front and froze in place, not wanting to confront it but knowing there was no way to avoid it. Cain took her hand in his and she looked at him, he spoke in a low tone, "We might as well get it over with, they're going to find out sooner or later."

With a sinking feeling in her gut, she kept her hand in his – a false image of solidarity and smiled her fake smile as if nothing could please her more than to relish the attention they were giving her.

That evening, in the dead of night, she took the vows of marriage a second time. It was exactly like her marriage to Kaplan except for the fact she couldn't associate this wedding as giving her the happiness that her first had. It was in the same place, the ceremony read by the same judge, she wore similar clothes, and even had the same witness. Annette stood by her, a perpetual scowl radiating her discontent at the news. This wedding represented a change in how things would be done and it wasn't to her liking or William's to let in another unproven outsider. Kaplan had been ignorant and thus was never a threat to their plans. To most in the company this gesture would be reassuring but Annette could only fear, all it took was one misstep and everything would be ruined for them both, for them all.

After the ceremony Annette joined Valete who stood by herself outside the church, her eyes were distant as if she was somewhere far from the present. Annette could only guess what she felt like, she'd never lost William the way Valete had Kaplan, "He is living with you?"

"Yes," her tone was flat, "it's the best way to resolve this quickly. I cannot say that I expect this marriage to last beyond stopping the outbreak. The union was made for a purpose and when that is done then it will be over."

"Have you had time enough to think on our proposal?"

"I have and I have made a decision. I will not hinder you but I will not help you either. You may go your separate way if you manage to fight your way out on your own power."

"I see," it had not been what she'd been hoping for but it was better than finding out that they'd made a bad bet altogether. Their secret would be safe with Valete, her decision was disappointing but Annette could understand her motivation. Kaplan was dead now and she'd not risk Genevieve, which was all she had left of him, for 'G'.

Sixteen Years, Sixteen LONG Years.

With a company like Umbrella and the kind of dealings it made it was only a matter of time before something strange came up and he'd been waiting a long time. Sixteen years ago, Devlyn come to Raccoon City, a law enforcement officer fresh from the Academy and there he had stayed, rejecting many lucrative transfers to other locales. Here he had settle for a long surveillance, here he'd taken a partner, and here he waited to unravel the lies that Umbrella built their successes upon.

Thirty-five years ago, his parents, George and Jessica Trevor, and his sister, Lisa had all vanished in a Mansion outside the city crafted by his own Father. Obsessed with their disappearance and Umbrella's inability to explain it he'd become determined to find out the truth whatever the cost, a personal crusade which led him from a life of privilege at his ancestral home in England, to immigrate to America, and get a job in law enforcement. Many times he'd been sorely tempted to leave his post but things had happened to intensify his resolve over the years.

The first happened eight years ago, after having spent eight years attempting to gain access to the Arklay Mansion and being denied vehemently, an anonymous individual had contacted him, giving him intel and clues. Inevitably, Umbrella was too through and after a time the clues stopped altogether. It was entirely possible that Umbrella had intimidated the informant but considering their history he was more apt to suspect foul play. An anonymous death that he felt obligated to solve even though he didn't know whom they were. The fruits of the exchange stood before him: maps and floor plans of the Arklay mansion, schematics and topography of the ground surrounding the estate, and correspondence exchanged between them hinting at more selective knowledge that would be exchanged if he could extract the individual to safety - a failure that haunted him to this day especially now when strange things were happening and more innocent victims were dying for his failure.

A built replica of the mansion stood on the table before him, built by him in his obsession, and currently scrutinized by his partner Zayn Malek, "I know it has to do with them, it has to. All crimes scenes are within or not far from the vicinity, it's like the mansion is the point of origin or perhaps even the base of whomever or whatever is doing this."

From the beginning he and Zayn had been assigned to investigate the murders, Irons had professed faith in them but seemed to do everything in his power to cripple their efforts or stop them altogether. It didn't help that Zayn couldn't get along with Irons and often pissed him off to the point that they'd be lucky to get any help. The young spitfire had a mercurial temper and made no secret that he hated the 'Chief Prick' or of his suspicions that he was being bought by Umbrella. Zayn had a lot to learn unlike Devlyn who had the wealth of experience or at least enough to know that politics had a place in their occupation as well. Zayn didn't have the patience to play politics and often it was Devlyn's efforts that kept Zayn from losing his job at the RPD altogether.

Recognizing that the mansion was positioned close to all the murders had begun a linear relationship back to Umbrella, a fact that didn't surprise him in the least. The Mansion, built in 1967, belonged to Lord Ozwell E. Spencer but the deed was currently titled to his daughter, Valete A. Spencer. It was obviously intended to be a part of her portion of the massive inheritance she was likely to one day inherit even though her Father seemed far from being ready to die in spite of his advancing age. This had led him and Zayn to desire to speak with Valete Spencer concerning her property and its proximity to their crime scenes, the logic behind their desire was easy to understand but Irons had instantly forbidden them to speak to her and threatened their jobs if they were within 50 meters of her with the intent to do so. Zayn was quite determined to speak with her and the consequences be damned but Devlyn wasn't so willing, he wanted to solve the murders but not at the expense of his job and the valuable resources it offered him to use against Umbrella.

"And we're going to be at a dead end if we don't question her. Damn it, Devlyn, we have to or these cases will go cold just like any other case against Umbrella. At least let me do surveillance, if I see anything suspicious then we'll be able to bring her in for good reason."

"No reason is going to be good enough to hold her EVER. She is the daughter of Umbrella's founder, whatever snare we make legally it will never be enough, they'll get her out of it, Umbrella's legal team is the best."

"That still doesn't change the fact that if we don't move, we'll never get anywhere."

"Are you willing to bet your job to make that move?"

"Yes."

Devlyn sighed; truly exasperated at Zayn but knowing he had no room to speak. Once upon a time he'd been so determined and now here he was stunted by his years of weathering Iron's political bullshit. Maybe Zayn was right, to solve these cases politics had to go out the window altogether along with caring what Irons did or thought.

"I doubt I can really stop you at this point, I've never met her before so I don't know what to expect of Valete Spencer but whatever you do, tread carefully around her. Also we have no evidence tying her to any of this personally, treat her gently. I don't want to have to fight a harassment suit."

Valete Spencer...

Zayn took the file and flipped it open, the file told only the bare minimum that could be gleaned from graduation records, employment records, birth and death certificates, and marriage licenses. She immigrated to America in 1986 at age 12 against her Father's wishes, was employed privately for four years. In 1990 she was employed by Umbrella and worked for them since then. In December 1990 she was married to a Bartholomew Kaplan, six months later a single daughter, Genevieve Spencer, was born. More recently, her spouse had died in May this year and she'd remarried recently a few short days ago in June 1998.

How cold...her husband newly buried and she'd already moved onward to the next order of business. To be honest he marveled at the length of her first marriage, she'd been married longer than most couples nowadays though he doubted it would have last much longer even if the husband had lived.

To date, she had no criminal record...yet. She also had three degrees in Computer Science, Law, and Biochemistry, which he considered an odd, if not ironic, choice. Biochemistry especially seemed to be an odd fit, at the very least Computer Science and Law fit together. Biochemistry stood out like a sore thumb and he wondered what she did with it, was she a scientist in addition to be a hacker or something? This story seem to get better and better as he read it. NOT!

He closed the file; having memorized everything the first time he read it over. Now he just had to find a good way to corner her without make her feel threatened and wondered if there was any way to make her come to him. Maybe pose as a sympathetic individual, her husband's death had been plastered all over the media and she'd dutifully portrayed herself as the typical widow in mourning, dressed in black and properly disconsolate with grief. Right...she couldn't have been too grieved considering she just celebrated her second nuptial mere days before. Dev was through like that; he always had the most up to date information.

Valete was a high profile target and would have been impossible to tail initially if not for her child. Within the week he had a general read on her schedule which included seeing her daughter to and from school and working the overnight and day times, evenings were spent at home where she appeared to relish a domestic life with her girl but eventually Valete slipped up and he got the opening he'd been hoping for, a conversation in a local café.

"You're late," she declared, finishing her coffee and waving off the waiter who came to fill her cup. The coffee shop was bustling with activity but that was preferable. Where there was silence there was room to listen in, noise assured some level of secrecy because voices blended in and cut off conversations.

"Why did you contact me? Our work is totally unrelated," she had to give Fayth credit, she did an excellent job of blending with the crowd almost to the point where she'd be unrecognizable to even her at first glance.

"I know that."

"Then why did you call me here?"

"To find out if you know that yourself? You're becoming a frequent enough hack to be a bother to me, I have enough on my hands without adding your clumsily intrusive attempts to collect answers."

"You can't keep a wrap on things forever, if you can't figure out what happened then perhaps someone else should take a stab at it. I'll find out the truth of what happened sooner or later."

"I will find out what happened, it's MY job not yours. You are putting your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Like where?"

Valete leaned forward, "MY work, you won't find answers in my work. Believe me, I am looking for the answers myself. I am the one being discredited for her malfunctioning."

Fayth sneered, her voice laced with disgust," So you're looking for answers to clear your name?"

"Don't think you're the only one who lost someone. I lost my husband and my daughter lost her father. The least I can do is find answers for her. What I'm saying is – stay out of my work and I'll get you your answers. Deal?

"What are you hiding?"

"I'm hiding nothing. I'll really get it if the Security Division finds out what Research & Development is doing."

"What are they hiding?"

"As I said, the information is CLASSIFIED. Good bye."

Valete rose and as she walked by him, Zayn was tempted to confront her right then and there. A month ago, the vague mention of an 'incident', the murders had started a month ago. Had something happened within Umbrella and then branched out to impact the surrounding area? Deep down he felt like time was of the essence but knew he should probably take what he found to Devlyn, he'd know what to do and usually his levelheaded decisions yielded better results though he'd never admit that out loud.

First contact was made the next day, at the indoor shooting range. Devlyn was processing what intel he had collected the previous day on their subject. Zayn was surprised to see her there when he went for his daily target practice but recovered quickly. Valete Spencer stood out, obviously inexperienced but she must've been competent enough to get her license, she had to have it to shoot her guns here. Gun cases and boxes of ammo were at her station and he wondered if she was borrowing what she was shooting, "Whose are those?"

His voice startled her out of her concentration and was half convinced she'd turn and end up shooting him by accident. Zayn was relieved when he heard the click of a safety before she turned completely, her eyes taking him in from top to bottom, "Mine, they were my husband's but they're registered to me now."

In turn, he looked her up and down, though his eyes lingered leisurely on her his eyes were far from rakish. At the completion of his internal assessment he said what first came to mind, not bothering to filter his words to protect her ego, "You're pretty lightweight, more suited to an office than to arms."

"How chauvinistic," she sounded like she was uninterested in his personal opinion, and her face was scornful. Great, he'd stepped on her feminine pride. His lapse in response giving her the opportunity to turn back to her target, carefully lining her eye along the sight as she tried to remember Kaplan's very distant lessons. He'd always tried to teach her self-defense but between their schedules it had been hard to find the time and when Veva had come along they'd given up altogether. Now she regretted that, she should have tried harder, should've made time even if it meant going lax on her work.

"So you're new here?" This time she sighed in visible exasperation, she probably thought he was flirting with her and the flirtation was obviously not welcome. She lowered the handgun but didn't turn to face him fully like last time.

"I am. Do I stand out that badly?"

"Fraid so."

"I am sure this isn't uncommon but with the rash of murders in town, I am not taking chances. I have a family to protect. Surely the experience level of a novice is better than no experience with firearms at all."

"I agree completely. Want a few pointers?"

"Sure," he moved towards her, repositioning her grip on the gun to a more sound holding that would better absorb the recoil. To her credit she was very good about looking along the sight. She fired and her shot hit close to center mass of the head which surprised him, most of her shots were leveled towards the head – a killing blow, rather than center mass which was meant for incapacitation, "You have a lethal aim for a beginner but perhaps you should aim for center mass," he gently guided her gun downward so it was lined with the target's torso, "it's easier to hit and you only need to incapacitate long enough for the police to get there. So you have children?"

"Yes, two daughters," she said, making a mental tally that Sherry was as good as Veva's sister.

"And their names?"

"Genevieve and Sherry."

"They are lucky to have you, few mothers would run to the front, most would hide behind their husbands."

"I don't have a husband and even if I did, I wouldn't be much of a mother if my children were my shield. Besides you know what they say, never get between a mother and her children"

Zayn smiled, "I certainly wouldn't dream of it," and he could almost respect her but he had a feeling that even words would not redeem her shady past if it were drawn into the light in the present or near future.

August 1998 –

5 Days After Arklay Mansion Destruction

Less Than 2 Months til Raccoon City Outbreak

Valete bent over the rim of the toilet, her body purging what little breakfast she'd been able to force down. For the first time since Kaplan's death she'd felt happiness, reports continued to get stranger and stranger but she couldn't feel anything but pleased. A hand rested gently on her belly, she'd just started to show. Many believed that this child was Cain's, not knowing that their marriage bed had been cold from the beginning, not realizing that she refused him but she knew this child to be what it was – a gift from beyond the grave. Somewhere in those last snatches of happiness with Kaplan, they consummated their marriage once more and conceived another child. Even miserable as she was, she glowed within even though her face was a peaked shade that was none too attractive. This child wasn't easy to carry, when she'd been pregnant with Genevieve she'd rarely felt sick and certainly never showed it to the degree she did today.

Exhaling a shaky breath, she placed her hands upon the seat and pushed herself up. She showed but barely, the child was noticeable but far from completely grown. Worry still pervaded her happiness though. The accident of a distant outbreak 8 years ago still haunted her and she still required the T virus to live, to survive. During Genevieve's pregnancy she'd gone from an injection every four months to one every six months, the first would have meant exposing the fetus to two injections; the second option meant only one. As soon as she'd found out about the infant she'd planned to stretch the time between injections to reduce the child's exposure to the virus but still she feared. Genevieve had been six months, moving from the second trimester to the third at the time of her exposure. This child was young, scarcely through its first three months. Steeling her nerves she left the restroom and made her way back to Dr. Issacs.

"Valete? Are you ready?

Another steadying breath, "Do I have any other choice?"

"No, without this you'll die and the child with you."

She rose, nodding because she knew this but she still felt she had been obligated to ask. If there had been any other way she'd have taken it no matter the risk to herself. It would be better to reduce the risk to the child as much as possible. She sat down, prepared to watch this injection as she had every other. Issacs cleaned the injection site with an alcohol cloth. A soft prick drew her gaze down, it took her almost a full minute to realize the liquid was clear and was obviously not the virus. Then her vision began to swim mere moments before she went completely under.

Eventually she woke and when she did she wished she hadn't. Even the thought of abandoning Genevieve couldn't keep her from wishing for oblivion as she sat, cradling the dead body of her unborn child. The T virus had been too much, she'd miscarried, and her body had purged the corpse of her son, their son. For a long time she sat there, so long that eventually Issacs had called Cain, telling him to retrieve her, to take her away where her grief could be a private affair done in the comfort of her home. Unsurprising she rejected him, pushed him from her, and reached a hand out, calling for the only one left alive whom could share her grief, "Veva? Genevieve."

The girl hesitated, looking at her mother's bloodstained hands, but seem to realize that her mother was lost to her unless recalled from her grief. She slipped her small hand into her mother's and tried to offer a smile. Her mother's attention was drawn back to her but she could not return the gesture.

Work became her salvation, the outbreak a blessing of sorts that helped her cope with the loss. It forced her back into the here and now and allowed her the banish the memory of her dead child deep down inside her. Eager for more to do and enraged by Cain's impotence to solve the crisis she went over his head and pleaded for her Father to turn over control of Operations to herself. It was significant in the fact it was the first time she'd wanted a position, a position her Father denied her stating that her grief made her unequal to the task at the moment. The outbreak was now working its way into town. Inexperienced or not, perhaps it was time to take action personally. Dressed in black slacks and a top she collected her weapons, making sure the safeties were on before stowing them away. If caught she'd be in trouble for carrying them concealed, the guns were back up to her knifes which she could wield with force and throw which accuracy.

"Where are you going?"

Cain was there, dressed in uniform even when off the clock, he'd taken to stalking her since her miscarriage, and if possible, she resented him even more for seeming to care about her, "Out."

"Again?"

That response had insecurity written all over it, clearly she looked like she was going out and he thought she was messing around on him. Well let him think that, she didn't have time to baby him, "What's it to you? We maybe married but you aren't my keeper. Veva is at a friend's house. Don't bother waiting up for me."

A/N: Oh my god, so much has happened in this chapter, it almost made my head explode. Next chapter is likely to be short, very short. Here I was trying to portray the Empress slipping out hence why Valete may seem 'colder'.