Author's Note: Despite knowing exactly where I'm headed with this story, it's so difficult updating it at the right time, geh! Anywho! Enjoy!

Chapter 7

Study The Past, If You Would Divine The Future

-Confucius

Dirty brown hair clung to a sweat drenched forehead. Chris' torso was soaked through front and back and he was sure he had a rank smell—but he didn't care. It was the first real workout he had since he woke up in Raccoon City. Unfortunately, he hadn't even gone for the full hour and a half that his older body (and mind) was accustomed to.

His younger body had stronger leg muscles than upper arm like his older self and he quickly became confused when the weight he was used to working out with as a warm up made him sore almost immediately. His legs, however, were far easier to exercise and he spent longer on a treadmill than he ever remembered.

But this was something he needed to not only clear his head but to also work off a lot of the pent up stress plaguing him as well.

He had spent the entire day Saturday documenting any and all suspicious news material that could somehow be traced back to Umbrella if anyone bothered to do the work and fight all the people Umbrella had already paid off. Luckily, with very minimal research, Chris was able to do most of that work himself. At one point, it was so simple he wondered if anyone ever actually questioned why Umbrella had shares in so many different companies that all seemed to be having illegal activity near or within it.

This was his fail safe. He had pages and pages of proof that he laid out perfectly in order for anyone to read—and he made multiple copies.

Despite the copies, he wanted to go through great lengths to keep them hidden—he needed to hide it in plain sight but to do that he needed someone's name to put it under. Someone he could rely on to get the information out and someone who Wesker couldn't get to beforehand.

He spent all of Sunday trying to figure out who he could trust with such a task. His first thought was Jill but in her current condition with their relationship she might go straight to Wesker. True, she was more than trustworthy during her B.S.A.A days but…. Chris had to crudely remind himself that those days are far, far ahead of him.

His second thought was Barry but Chris didn't want to risk Barry's family. It wasn't fair to ask him to do it especially when there was a high chance Chris would have to wait until after Wesker blackmailed Barry to make a move on Umbrella or at least Wesker—though he had high expectations that such a day was quickly coming. Nonetheless, Chris couldn't ask something like that of Barry but, Chris supposed, it could be a backup.

Frost was trustworthy enough but was he skilled and determined enough to handle the information correctly? Chris wasn't sure. Vickers certainly wasn't either of those things let alone dependable so he was quickly thrown off the list.

And Chris didn't necessarily know any of the Bravo team well enough to give them a task like this except for Enrico but he was too close to Wesker and Chris was sure Enrico had a target on his back far larger than anyone else Chris knew.

That's where Claire came in.

It was Sunday night, now, and Chris had showered and eaten with thoughts of the inevitable in the back of his mind. He sat on his couch and looked at the phone that he nearly feared. Chris had never not wanted to talk to his sister but in this moment, with the past week being how it was, he had never dreaded anything so much since Piers' funeral.

But, Chris mused bitterly, I suppose that hasn't happened yet.

Yet.

Chris was getting sidetracked.

He loved his sister dearly, of course, but he just didn't want her to get wrapped up in all of this. She needed to stay away, far away, where it was safe and not essentially a ticking time bomb like this town was. But he needed her help.

Chris picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear, listening to the tone on the other end for a moment to sooth him.

And then he dialed.

It rang. And it rang. And it ra—

"Hello?"

It was a male voice.

"Uh, hey is Claire there?" Chris asked carefully.

"Yeah, just a sec."

Chris heard muffled shouting and Claire's voice getting closer to the phone. Chris' finger twirled the phone cord

"Claire speaking."

"Is your boyfriend already living with you?" Chris asked partially accusingly with a hint of humor.

"Chris! I thought you were mad at me!"

"I got over it but I'm starting to reconsider."

"No, he isn't living with me. We were just about to go out."

"This won't take long," Chris assured her and he heard her chuckle.

"Don't worry about it, he can wait. You're my brother. Now, what's up?"

"Tomorrow, I'm going to open two different P.O boxes in your name and if anything ever happens to me, I want you to open them both. One will be in your town and the other here in Raccoon City."

"Is everything okay, Chris?" She asked quietly, hushing her voice and pressing her lips to the receiver. She sounded worried and Chris didn't blame her. This must sound terrifying—well, really, it was terrifying but Chris had been through it so many times before…

"For now," Chris responded. "Our missions are getting suspicious. I'll be steadily adding to what I'm putting in both boxes. I'll make sure to keep them both updated but you need to do three different things."

"Of course, anything."

"You can't tell anyone about this."

"Understood."

"If you have to open it make sure to do what you think is right. I suggested two separate organizations in the information provided. You don't have to choose either of them but… they're going to get you places, okay?"

"Understood," Claire's voice wavered. She was confused; Chris was aware and wished he could sit here for hours and explain why he was doing this and what was going to happen and his entire situation but he couldn't. This was the best he could do.

"Lastly, you cannot open either one unless something happens to me. That means if I'm arrested or if Umbrella decides to do anything—"

"Who is Umbrella?"

It was odd hearing that come out of Claire's mouth. She didn't know who they were yet. Chris never explained and she didn't live in Raccoon City. Barry was the only reason Chris came here and the potential job that living here provided. He sighed into the phone.

"Umbrella Corporation. They're a pharmaceutical company and they have their hand in most, if not all, companies around Raccoon City. They're large worldwide."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I'm a college student. It's not like I can just pay for the most expensive medicines. I've heard of them but why would they—"

"Just promise, Claire."

There was silence from the other line. No distant sound of a television or upset boyfriend could be heard. Just silence. And Chris waited because he knew all too well how such demands could sound and how worrying they could be but Claire was strong and he knew she could handle it.

"Hun, can you run and get my purse?" Chris heard from Claire though it sounded distant as if she had put the phone down to speak, "Because I want to make sure my wallet's in it. Thanks." A pause of silence and she spoke again. "Chris, are you in danger?" her tone was hushed once again and she sounded almost frantic.

"Yes," Chris stated. "I can't tell you why."

"Of course you can't. You expect me to just be okay with this? Hold on," Claire hissed into the phone and Chris could hear the rustling as she pressed the phone to her torso. Chris couldn't hear what she said this time but she returned quickly. "Sorry, he doesn't know much about you."

"He can't know about this."

"I know."

Chris heard Claire sigh and Chris sat back.

"I'm not expecting you to be okay with anything, Claire. I expect you to trust me. Eventually, I will tell you everything and you may not believe me but things will make sense."

"I hope you're right, Chris."

"I am. You still haven't promised me—"

"Fine, fine. I promise. Just don't get yourself killed. I don't care how crazy you are."

"Dying isn't what I'm worried about."

Chris stared at the splotched white ceiling above his head whilst he was lying half naked under blankets that were pulled to his waist. He was listening to the rain against his bedroom window and the roof of his apartment. He enjoyed the rain. It relaxed him. His right hand tucked itself under the back of his head and his mind wandered momentarily.

He was stuck on Barry and how Wesker would inevitably blackmail him. Maybe, Chris thought, Maybe Wesker wouldn't blackmail him at first. Wesker is sneaky, he could encourage Barry to assist with things, use his title as Captain and the unmovable trust Barry held to his advantage.

Chris scowled.

Wesker could easily have Barry spy on Chris without Barry getting suspicious in the slightest. Barry would run to Wesker in a heartbeat if Chris told him anything about the future. Jill would too, Chris realized.

Chris turned on his side and closed his eyes. He had to be careful.

Chris walked into the S.T.A.R.S office with a smile on his face. He opened up both P.O boxes and currently had one large packet on its way to the box closest to Claire. He wouldn't put anything in the Raccoon City one for a while as he was still gathering evidence and figured it would be a bit suspicious if anyone was watching him.

Maybe Chris was being paranoid but to anyone who knew Chris, they would immediately think he was acting strange. He needed to keep everything quiet.

"Feeling better?" Barry asked.

Chris looked up to find Barry leaning near Jill's desk. Jill had something pulled up on her computer screen and both had their necks strained to look at Chris.

"Yeah, thanks," Chris responded with a smile and nod.

He shed his coat and hung it over the back of his seat, as per usual.

"What happened Friday? I've never seen you like that, Chris," Barry said quietly, walking towards Chris' desk. Jill was on his heel.

"Nothing, I just wasn't feeling well. I think I came down with something over the weekend but I'm fine now. Whatever it was, it didn't last long."

"Good to hear, Chris," Barry said with a nod. A strong hand rested on Chris' shoulder for a moment before he turned and went to his desk.

Jill remained. She stood, arms crossed over her chest and body rigid. Her eyes were planted to the floor and Chris saw that she was worrying her lip.

"I'm sorry, you know," Chris said, voice barely over a whisper.

"Yes, I know," Jill responded just as quietly.

"And for Friday—"

"Yeah," Jill responded. "I was wrong too."

"You weren't wrong. You were saying things that needed to be said. Wrong timing, maybe, but not wrong to say."

"Not all of it. I don't like Captain Wesker thinking I don't trust him just because he keeps secrets from us for our own protection," Jill said with a shrug, "and if you need help you should feel comfortable coming to the group not just Wesker."

"I needed to know whether it was worth looking into, that was all. He didn't think it was at the time. Still, things in S.T.A.R.S haven't been very comfortable lately, have they?"

"I guess that's our fault."

"Look, why don't we go out to dinner—" the look that appeared on Jill's face was almost priceless. The mix of fear and anger and a bit of dry humor before Chris continued quickly, "—As friends!"

Jill looked at him doubtfully and muttered, "I don't have to wear makeup?"

"You could wear pajamas for all I care."

"Fine. Tomorrow? I have to babysit tonight for Barry."

"That's fine. Whatever works."

"We have another defense class at eleven," Jill sighed. "I was thinking of doing some shooting practice before then. You know I could always use the practice."

"We all could."

"Not you. You're the best sharpshooter in Alpha!" Jill laughed.

Piers was better.

"No better than Captain Wesker, I'm sure!" Barry shouted with a laugh from his desk.

"I heard my name," Wesker stated, stepping out of his office.

The blond wore his sunglasses inside and nobody questioned him. Chris sometimes wondered why he bothered. It wasn't bright within the office—in fact, the exact opposite—and Chris had even seen him wear the damn things at night. Chris wondered if it was because his eyes portrayed so much of his emotion. Wesker had an outstanding poker face, the best Chris had ever seen, at least. But Chris could look into his eyes and see what emotion he was feeling almost as easy as feeling it himself.

Though, Chris wasn't sure if it was just him or if others could read him as easily as well.

"Who do you think is a better sharpshooter, Captain?" Jill asked. "You or Chris?"

"Chris, definitely," he stated seriously. "My skill resides in my swift movements and knowledge of the human mind. I can easily assume what someone will do next in any given situation and I am rarely wrong. This being said, Chris' skill lies in his concentration and precision."

"That's true. I guess that's why you're a backup pilot, huh?" Brad chimed from his desk.

"Partially. I actually highly assume you will, at one point, leave us in a very dire situation and we will need someone equally versed in your job to either cover or help us escape. You've already done so once before, Vickers," Wesker explained coldly.

"It was once, Captain! I won't do it again!"

Chris scoffed loudly and shook his head. He never really forgave Brad for leaving them at the Spencer Mansion. It was his fault they were forced to go into the mansion at all, but it was also Wesker's fault for putting him in the situation when he knew what sort of person he was—Chris supposed that was the blond's plan.

Nonetheless, it was stupid.

Or maybe it was brilliant, Chris wasn't sure.

"I'm sure you won't, Vickers. Everyone, get back to work," Wesker barely commanded before turning on his heel. "Redfield!"

Chris sighed and stood from his seat.

"Tomorrow after work?"

"Perfect."

"Great."

Chris nodded to Jill and began walking towards Wesker's office. He wouldn't know why the man possibly wanted to see him after Friday night but he followed him inside.

"The door," Wesker stated.

Chris shut it but stood nearby just in case. Chris could tell from Wesker's tone that he was unhappy. The blond wasn't seething, he rarely did that, but he looked mildly annoyed and was not prepared to handle any bullshit. Luckily, Chris didn't care.

"Sit."

Chris obeyed and sat in one of the chairs in front of Wesker's desk. The desk itself had very little personal objects on it beside the picture. A nameplate, stack of papers, and a desktop were all piled onto it in an orderly fashion.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Irons is upset."

"He's always upset. Throw money at him, he'll be fine."

"He is your boss, Redfield."

"He's yours too, Captain."

Chris could feel Wesker's eyes narrow behind the dark glasses that hid them. He saw the blond's jaw clench and watched him change positions in his seat. Wesker's fingers laced together and sat on his lap as he leaned back in his office chair and sighed.

"I covered for you, Redfield."

"Why?"

"You have potential."

You want me dead.

"Enough to put your job on the line?" Chris asked. His arms rested on the arm rests where his hands were gripping. Wesker was just such a good liar, it was sickening.

"Yes, Christopher. Enough to put my job on the line."

"So why is he angry?"

"Fridays's incident."

"He's mad that I fainted?" Chris asked with a scoff.

"No, that we had to call in Bravo. He isn't happy about the money spent. I assured him it was a necessity with your health. I may have also threatened a minor lawsuit. Nonetheless, he backed away."

"I appreciate it."

"Of course you do."

"Why am I in here?" Chris asked suddenly. "You don't care for my appreciation so why am I here?"

"I must ask you a question."

"Alright, fire away."

"Do you believe that you would be a better Captain than I am?"

Chris stared at him. He blinked several times and remained quiet as if expecting Wesker to explain the question but he didn't. The blond looked at him expectantly, blond eyebrows raised behind shades and lips pursed.

Chris didn't know what to say.

Because yes, he was a better Captain possibly if only because he didn't betray his team.

…. On purpose.

Honestly, maybe he wasn't a better Captain. Maybe he was just a better person and that's why he would be better but Wesker couldn't know he actually felt like this. Not yet, anyway. That would come later.

"Why would you ask that, Captain?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, of course not."

"And why is that?"

Chris was, once again, taken aback by the question.

"I… Uh.. Well, I mean there's a difference between being a part of a team and leading the team. I'm not a leader. Barry is a leader, maybe, but I'm—"

"You have confidence in your hunches. You don't take authority well, Christopher, you give it. You demand it."

"And that means I want your job?"

"No, of course not. I simply wanted to hear your opinion."

"Fine, okay. Was my response satisfactory?"

"Enough."

"Great. I have a report to write—"

"Very well. Return."

Chris stood and began towards the door. He felt Wesker's eyes on him, felt the silence weigh in the room and he sighed. He looked back towards Wesker and with a quiet voice, mumbled—

"Thanks again."