Author's Note: This collection of vignettes are a continuation of BetaReject's one-shot tale A Question of Destiny. As such I have received her permission to continue with her tale.
Beta: Care and courtesy of Maleficmistress Be sure to pay her gallery a visit she's got some awesome artwork! Also to AceofHadeon for again noting my ignorance of firearms and correcting me on it.
Report.
Claire's voice distorted and distant crackled over the audio connection.
'I believe you have something for me,' Albert Wesker said as he leaned back into his seat. The audio crackled as a distorted sound that could have been a laugh or a snort was heard. He could envision Claire smirking from behind her computer. The foolish girl still believed she had control of the situation.
I'm sorry but it doesn't work quite like that. Your turn first.
It had been three weeks since Albert had begun the ruse, to his great amusement no one had caught on to it. As always, it was Claire who began their little dance, and Albert who concluded it. Their exchange of words though brief, was always productive.
'I think not. I have provided you with enough information to begin your search. Now it is time to help me with mine,' he replied. The audio fell silent, but Albert knew that Claire had not left. The B.S.A.A and Terra-Save would not pull out, not when they required his assistance now more than ever.
Puppet master has been confirmed. House of cards has not yet revealed its sigils.
Albert frowned at her reply. Of all the information, he had provided them with, all they could find was evidence to his facts. He already knew Alex was posing as him. He already knew that Tricell was mindful to cover their tracks. He needed more information pertaining to Alex's recent work, and Tricell's role in it.
'I trust you found a little more than that,' he said. Another pause answered his query. She knows, she is just stringing you along just as Gionne did, his thoughts whispered. Wesker's fingers instinctively tightened around the grip of his desert eagle.
Such sensitive information is best shared in person, Claire replied.
Albert knew this day was certain to come, he had not expected it would arrive so soon. 'Leave it at the usual drop off point,' he answered, annoyed at the suggestion. Always prepared, he did not intend to reveal his identity or location, certainly not on their terms. Her silence did not bother him, Albert knew Claire would comply, out of duty or was it loyalty to her masters.
Very well. I will leave it in the usual location at the usual time. Your turn.
So predictable, Albert thought with a smirk. Providing Claire with Intel had not been difficult.
Ensuring her superiors got it right and performed to his expectations was proving to be more complicated than he imagined. How the anti-terrorism organizations loved their paperwork and red tape!
'There is a new addition to our little game, an enigma of sorts. My sources know little save that, their uniform has earned them the name of plague doctor. I know little else, only that they are tied in some way to the puppet master and his associates.'
The 'plague doctor' was an unexpected player, one whose role Albert had yet to decipher. As much as he desired answers he knew better than to make another direct infiltration attempt on Tricell; they would be expecting him. It was wiser to let his new lap dogs do the dirty work.
'I will inform you if I learn anything else.'
Confirmed.
Their meeting concluded shortly after. Albert Wesker did not learn of his mistake until it was too late.
'I do not know who it is you have been in contact with Ms. Redfield, but it is not Bruce Givern. I believe he was exposed to the T-virus while on mission to stop a black-market exchange of bio-weapons a few months ago. I was to be his contact at the drop zone, when he didn't arrive I knew something was wrong-I had to find him.
'With civil unrest in the region and the eventual political coup I was unable to reach him in time. When I arrived-it was too late. Bruce's mission was completed, but it came at a high price.'
Claire sat in silence as she replayed the recorded message of her exchange with agent Ling. She knew little of the Asian woman, save a colleagues warning that she was not to be regarded a reliable source. Nevertheless, the sincerity of Ling's words along with the subtle cracks in her otherwise flawless mask was difficult to ignore. Even if her story was entirely fabricated one solid kernel of truth remained, something had happened to agent Givern.
Claire's audio meeting with the impostor that evening confirmed it. There was no way Bruce Givern real or otherwise would have known the drop off location for their Intel because she had not spoken of it to him, or anyone else for her direct supervisor. The B.S.A.A and Terra-Save's security systems had been compromised, the realization made her blood run cold.
Claire's thoughts ran wild as her fingers flew over the keys of her. At a first glance, there was no evidence of infiltration. The impostor knew how to cover their tracks, but Claire was a skilled programmer and knew all the tricks, no matter how subtle the attack there would always be a trail. Despite the late hour, she was quick to send a message alerting her superiors of the possible infiltration. She had a sinking feeling the impostor had accessed the main systems of both the B.S.A.A. and Terra-Save.
It was early in the morning when her fears were finally confirmed. The trail was finally found, subtle and carefully hidden beneath codes used to operate the audio channel that had been accessed for their interactions. 'Gotcha,' Claire murmured to herself. It took little time to locate the source of the attack, and even less for her to realize that she had infiltrated it before.
'Dammit, should have known,' she murmured with a heavy sigh. Too exhausted to feel fear or much else, Claire deactivated her laptop, collected her beretta and departed for home. Tomorrow was certain to be a long day. She could only that Wesker wherever he was would remain blissfully unaware of his mistake until the trap was sprung.