Author's Note: It's been a while, I know. First an explanation: this chapter would have been up A LOT earlier, except for the fact that my laptop crapped out and I had to get it sent in. It took TWO WEEKS to get it back fixed, and when I did, everything I had for this story was gone. So, I had to start from scratch. Add that to my studying load and I've been playing catch-up for the past week and a half. Thanks for everyone who is hanging in there with me. We're almost at the end. As always, read and enjoy the ride.

Chapter 8

"Choices"

CHINA, TWENTY FIVE YEARS AGO

The Orphanage for Wayward Girls

"Witch!"

The curse, filled with hate and poison, followed the young girl as she fled through the darkened hallway. But she didn't falter in her steps; she let the fear of being followed fuel her mind, and she quickened her pace. Bare feet, bloodied and dirtied from the recent struggle, pounded mercilessly down the hard wooden floor but the young girl's mind was flooded with too many varying emotions to truly take notice.

She reached a corner and paused to catch her breath. Throughout the building, she heard the relentless thud of many footsteps; yells and shouts in harsh language filtered into the air, and what little she could make it out was indecipherable, but even she could not mistake the tones: they were all looking for her.

Fear pounded unceasingly through her veins, feeling so much like ice water. But the girl shook her head; it wouldn't do her any good to succumb to such feelings.

It didn't do the girls who had been caught any good. They had begged; they had pleaded with the men clad in white lab suits. And she had seen what had happened to them.

She vowed to never let it happen to her.

Or anyone else.

A moment later, a sharp, acrid smell wafted through the air. The girl sniffed hesitantly, and then recognizing it, let loose a wolfish smile.

The yells and shouts became more urgent, and she managed to recognize one word throughout all the cacophony:

Fire.

Peeking around the corner, she spied a group of men rushing down the hallway dressed in soldier's garb. Waiting several more seconds to ensure that no one else was coming down that way, she made a dash for freedom.

A clawed hand fell on her shoulder, yanking her backwards. A second hand joined the first, and she found herself pushed up against the wall. The girl kicked at the creature holding her, barely biting back a terrified scream: it was the matron, the elder woman who terrorized the young girls at the orphanage. The one behind all the abductions, all the lies, and all the petty cruelties done to the girl and her friends.

Or rather, what was left of her. There was a shiny, waxy look to her skin, and her smile stretched too wide to be entirely human. Her eyes were yellowed and bulged largely in a gaunt face that scared children long before she had been transformed.

"Hello, witch," breathed the matron creature. It ran a sharp finger that was white as bone over the girl's cheek in a caress. The girl cried out as a cut opened where the finger dragged. "Did you miss me?"

The girl spat at the thing's face.

"Defiant to the end, I see." Madness swirled in the creature's yellow eyes, and it cackled. "You will die screaming, I will make sure of that."

Its mouth opened wide, too wide towards the girl's face. She struggled fiercely, but the matron creature's strength was far beyond her own –

There was a loud noise, like someone slamming a book down on a table. The matron creature froze, mouth still opened ridiculously wide, and then crumpled. The girl fell with it, landing on her butt. She was shaking, breathing hard, and terrified out of her mind, but otherwise unharmed save for the cut on her cheek.

Down the hallway, a man in a white lab suit stood with a smoking gun. His arm was shaking as he lowered the weapon. The girl watched with wary distrust as he approached, his face concerned. He was tall, but scrawny, with a tousle of brown hair falling over his green eyes. The man knelt down before the girl, his hand outstretched.

"Hi there," he said.

The girl glared at him.

"I'm not here to hurt you. What's your name?"

She shook her head. Another person –a Chinese woman, clad in black and holding a rifle, appeared behind him. "Jonathan, we need to go. The orphanage is swarming with those things and the fire is spreading."

"Just a moment, Ana. We're taking her with us."

Ana stared down at the dirty young girl. "Please tell me you are making another one of your American jokes."

Jonathan laughed, despite the situation. "No, but I wish I was. She survived. I want to know why."

Ana sighed. "And how do you propose we handle this? Just adopt her?"

"I don't see why not."

The girl suddenly lashed out at the woman, making a grab for the rifle. Ana slapped her down, and aimed the barrel at the girl's head.

"She's a feisty one, I'll give her that," Ana remarked. "Maybe I can make something out of this."

"Yes. And our daughter will finally get the sister she's been clamoring for."

Ana considered that. "Very well. But I'm tying her up."

"As you wish, dear."

Some weeks later, after some gentle instruction (and not so gentle persuasion from Ana), the girl was introduced to her new sister. The girl marveled at how her luck had turned out, and how nice her new family was.

They met in a garden, dressed in matching outfits save for different colors: the girl wore a red dress, while her sister was wearing purple.

Her sister bore a cheerful smile and walked up to hug the newest addition to the family. The girl, still nervous from her terrible experiences, refrained from hugging back. She was still unsure of how to act.

But the hug felt good. She leaned into it.

After a while, her sister released her, still smiling. She took a step back and held out her hand. The girl tenderly took it and they both shook.

"Nice to meet you," said her sister. "What's your name?"

The girl told her.

"That's your old name," corrected the other girl. "Mom and Dad gave you a new one, remember?"

She nodded, remembering.

"Can you say it?"

The girl stumbled, embarrassed at her inadequate grasp of the language. But the laugh her sister let out was a good natured one.

"It's okay. We'll work on that. Let me introduce myself, then."

She held out her hand and they both shook once more.

"My name," the other girl said, eyes sparkling mischieviously, "is Ada. Ada Wong."

BASTION ISLAND, MEDICAL FACILITY (PRESENT DAY)

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon was moving after the first explosion.

Or rather he was trying to move. An attempted combat roll out of the hospital bed resulted in a sort of flopping motion. Pain racked his body, especially around his abdomen where he had been eviscerated from before.

Gritting his teeth, he took a peek at the wound.

He immediately wished that he hadn't. Instead of a mess of guts and blood, he saw scales. Lots and lots of scales covering where the wounds should have been, spreading across his lower body like some unnatural rash.

So I am infected, then.

Leon grew worried for Ada. Presumably, she was beginning to feel the effects of the infection as well.

And where was Theo?

He had to find them both. Then get the hell off this island.

"Sounds like a plan," he said to the empty room. Another explosion rocked the building, cracks forming over the once solid walls. Alarmed, he threw himself out of bed, only to receive a jolt of pain for his efforts. It was so intense that even Leon, used to all manner of injuries, was paralyzed by the sheer force of it.

Then, suddenly, it lifted and he relaxed in its absence.

"Are you alright?" asked a voice.

He blinked, and then craned his head towards it. A nurse, her scrubs dirty and ripped, stood above him, syringe in hand.

"Yes. Thank you," Leon replied, his voice rough. "What did you do?"

"Vaccine. You're lucky – scientists over at R&D managed to produce some before you came here. Not enough, though," said the nurse, her tone turning sad.

That explains all the BOWs crawling around, Leon thought.

"Anyway, I've brought your things," continued the nurse – the nametag read "Tina" – and she produced Leon's weapons along with –

Ada's compact. Leon's eyes widened slightly at the sight of it. He had totally forgotten about it in the ensuing chaos after arriving on the island. "Why are you helping me?"

Tina looked at him. "You saw my Neo-Umbrella logo, didn't you?"

Leon nodded.

"I know you've had your experiences with Umbrella and the horrors they've unleashed. But we're past that now - "

"Tell that," Leon said, "to the millions of people who died during the China Incident."

Her eyes flashed. "That was not our fault. Although the woman who was behind the event claimed Neo-Umbrella as behind the events, believe me that it was not our doing. She – she wasn't in her right mind."

Leon caught Tina's hitch at the end. "Ada Wong was that woman, am I right?"

Tina didn't look at him. "So she claimed."

What the hell did that mean?

He accepted his weapons and shoved the compact into his pocket for safekeeping. With Tina's help, Leon managed to stand, feeling his strength return slowly, but surely with every passing minute.

"Looks like your vaccine is working," Leon remarked.

"Good. I'll be taking my leave now, Agent Kennedy." The nurse turned to leave. Leon grabbed her arm and said, "Wait. How do I know Neo-Umbrella won't attack again?"

"This base should serve all the evidence you need."

"It looks like a weapons facility," Leon countered. "For BOWs and all sorts of other nasty stuff. Not exactly the best defense to use for claiming innocence."

"This base was to be our 'Bastion' – a place of refuge and safety, hence the name, Agent Kennedy. And it's been here for years. We could have wiped the world out several times over with what we've been developing here. So ask yourself this: why have we been stockpiling our best weapons and scientists?"

Leon thought about it. The answer came easily. "For a war. But against who?"

"Who," Tina whispered, "would warrant such a war?"

We're going up against the people who really run this country.

"The Family." It was a phrase he'd heard in hushed whispers, and with faint speculation on Hunnigan's report.

Tina nodded. "Don't say it out loud, Agent Kennedy. You don't want to be a target. For too long they've been pulling at the strings of everyone. Our organization, Neo-Umbrella, aims to make that statement untrue: to advance humanity past their selfish goals."

"Which are?"

"Control," said Tina.

That single word sent an icy hand up Leon's spine. He let go of Tina. "I still don't trust you. Or your organization. There's been too much blood that's been shed over the previous Umbrella, and you guys haven't done much too distinguish otherwise."

"We don't need your trust, Agent Kennedy. Just don't get in our way," replied Tina, her eyes flashing again. Another explosion rocked the building; chunks of metal and debris began to rain down from the weakening ceiling.

"We are Neo-Umbrella. And we will see this world free."

Leon brushed dust out of his eyes and saw that he was alone.

"Nice exit," he muttered.

He moved outside –

Something grabbed at his arm and he was thrown to the ground. His gun slid across the hallway and fell into a fissure that had opened there.

Someone hovered over him, smiling a wicked, wicked smile. The face grew closer and Leon found himself staring at an expression that had haunted his dreams, waking or otherwise, for the past fifteen years.

"Ada?" he choked out.

The smirk grew into a smile, which became grotesquely wide. "No," purred the woman who had Ada's face, but wasn't Ada. "No, not quite."

BASTION ISLAND, MEDICAL FACILITY

Ada Wong

Rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders – was it the matron creature once again? But she was no longer the small, terrified girl who had been lucky to survive; now, she was a master spy and the bane of world intelligence agencies globally. She had beaten mutant monstrosities, mad scientists, and the abomination that Derek C. Simmons had become. She had outwitted mercenaries, certain persistent U.S. Agents, and Albert Wesker himself.

She was Ada Wong.

Compared to everything she had faced since that night in the orphanage, the matron creature was a mere footnote; a childhood nightmare that was incapable of hurting her anymore than a shadow could.

Ada snapped her eyes open and struck both her fists outward in a quick motion. Her opponent released her immediately and she rolled to the side, bringing her gun to bear –

Randall raised his arms in surrender. "Stop! It's me, it's me!"

The spy froze, her instincts screaming at her to squeeze the trigger.

"Ada, it's me! You got knocked out when one of those things snuck up on you. Do you remember?"

Ada's memory began to play catch-up; the promise, the island, BOWs, Wesker's return, and most importantly, Leon.

She lowered her gun. "Sorry. Got caught up in all the excitement."

You'll die screaming, I'll make sure of that.

Ada grimaced. Now was not the time to be spooked by past nightmares. A decision needed to be made. Leon – or the promise?

"Lots of choices to make here," Randall remarked. Ada glanced sharply at him, only to see that he was facing the two corridors that lay before them.

"We're close," Randall said. He was working off his memory, leaving the spy sufficiently impressed. It was clear that he was a former agent, handling himself just fine despite his impairment. "Can't remember this bit, though."

He scratched his head and glanced back at Ada. "What do you think?"

Ada became even more impressed. Randall was testing her, to see if she'd been here before. What had he found out?

Ada decided to go for the aggressive approach. She was tired and not in the mood for anymore games. "Quit with the games, Randall. Why are you testing me?"

"Because I found this." He reached into his pocket and threw something at her. Ada caught it deftly in one hand.

It was the photo with Carla and Simmons.

"Despite the appearances to the contrary, that never happened." Ada crumpled the photo and threw it aside.

"Quit with the bull! Leon is throwing his life on the line for you – and if he's too stupid to ask why, then as his friend I'll do it for him." Randall raised his weapon and pointed it straight at Ada. After having seen him in action, she did not have a single doubt as to his accuracy.

"I never asked him to play hero for me," Ada stated coldly. "And if you point that weapon at me, you better be prepared to pull the trigger."

Randall narrowed his eyes. "Answers. Now."

"Then ask some questions," Ada shot back.

"Who are you really?"

"Ada Wong."

Randall smiled bitterly. "Guess that was too easy, then. Next question: why are you here?"

Ada pretended to ponder that question. "Well, when a boy likes a girl . . ."

Randall fired a bullet into Ada's shoulder. She staggered back a step, biting back a scream of pain.

"Try again. I don't play games when my friend's life is on the line."

"Then why are you asking this, now? The whole island is exploding, we're being hunted, and we don't know Leon's condition – we're wasting TIME!"

Randall didn't blink. "Things look pretty grim. Maybe we won't make it out anyway."

"There's always a chance. If it's me, and if it's Leon, there is always a goddamn chance."

"Why do you care? He's nothing to you."

Pain cleaved Ada's head in two, and she fell, gasping at the sheer crippling effect it had on her. It was like someone had driven a spike straight into the center of her skull.

Randall's voice was merciless. "Answer the question, Wong."

Ada's voice sounded raspy when it came out, but she spoke nonetheless. "I do . . . care."

"Prove it."

"Are you done with these stupid questions?" It was taking everything she had not to scream out.

She became dimly aware that Randall was now standing over here. "One last question: why are you running from him?"

What?

"Not . . . running," she staggered out.

"Oh? What then?"

Ada stood up and stared at Randall, the pain scraping her nerves raw. But she remained firm and was thankful when her voice came out strong and steady. "I'm saving him."

He stared at Ada for several tense seconds. Then he nodded and lowered his weapon.

"I see," was all he said, and looked thoughtful.

Ada punched him in the face.

"I hope you also see the black eye I just gave you. Don't ever point a weapon at me again unless you have the intent to pull the trigger, do you understand?"

Randall nodded, and smiled. "Let's keep moving," Ada said.

"Leon's got his hands full with you."

They were too late.

All across the walls was blood. Lots of it.

"It might not be his," Randall tried to reason. "We don't know what happened here."

"I do," Ada said quietly. He looked at her and winced.

Ada surveyed the scene with dead eyes. Someone had used the blood to scrawl a message on the walls:

FAKE ME.

At the bottom of the macabre message lay a single item.

It was Ada's compact. She knelt down, remembering the last time she gave it to Leon.

She opened it and saw what was inside.

"Idiot," she whispered. "You've got lousy timing."

Randall approached and Ada closed the compact, hiding its secret contents away from him. She needed to compose herself. Now was not the time to get emotional.

"Who did this?" he asked, his voice quaking in rage.

"Someone with a beef against me."

"Why?"

"For being me," Ada replied and she turned down the hallway.

Randall followed closely. "Where the hell are we going? Ada, we need a plan!"

"I have a plan." She checked the magazine on her weapon and then clicked it back into place.

"It's clearly a trap. We can't just attack like we did last time! And how do we know where they went?"

Ada pointed down at the floor. Randall looked and saw blood droplets leading down the hallway and then left at a corner up ahead.

"Christ. Like bread crumbs."

Ada nodded. Randall glanced at her. "So there is a heart in there," he sighed. "Alright, what are we going to do?"

Ada handed him the keys Wesker had given her earlier and then explained who had taken Leon and what they were going to do about it.

"That is a bad plan," Randall said.

She shook her head. "No time for a good one."

"Fine, then. Off to find where she used to live, yeah? Better hurry." He turned, and then paused. "When this is all over, what are you going to do to her?"

Ada gave him a hard smile.

"I'm going to kill the bitch."


Author's Note: What's in the compact, I wonder? Heh. Anyway, read, review, and spread the word! Next chapter is titled, what else? Chapter 9: "Kill the Bitch".