Chapter 38: Dinner Party
Claire sat propped against the sink in the bathroom, texting Chris. Her fingers worked over the keys happily. She would never risk calling Chris, lest Wesker overhear and decide to confiscate her phone, but texting seemed safe enough. She also instructed Chris to never text unless she texted him first, in case someone were to take her phone and read the messages. She didn't want Wesker to have personal communications or possible locations on Chris to use against him.
R u finding what u wanted? She read Chris's message and sighed.
Working on it, but things are getting better. How is Jill?
She's here.
Say hi. Claire heard boots coming up the stairs. It seemed that the computer conference that Wesker had been involved in downstairs had ended. Got 2 go. Luv. She shut the phone, turned it off, and slid it into her pocket. She pretended to wash her hands and exited the bathroom. Wesker was standing at the top of the stairs with a stern expression. Apparently the meeting hadn't gone well.
"3 hours, Miss Redfield?" Claire smiled sheepishly. His eyes traveled to the bulge in her pocket. "How is Chris?" Claire huffed and held onto the pocket protectively.
"Busy blowing things up," she said, deathly afraid that he'd take the phone. She had decided to come here, but she knew too well that she was under Wesker's authority, even if he seemed relaxed. If he decided to take it, she wouldn't be able to stop him.
"We have work to do," Wesker said as he went to go back down the stairs.
"Wait," Claire questioned as she followed him. "Why are you letting me keep my phone?" Wesker didn't bother looking at her.
"What would you tell him? Our location? You have too much sense to do something so stupid, and there's nothing else I need to worry about you telling him." He was right, of course, but it still seemed very lenient of him. She could not see the cards Wesker was holding, but he was actually ensuring a greater degree of her trust by allowing her to keep the phone. It played its role as a symbol of good faith in their no-hostage agreement for the moment. He didn't want to take the phone. He wanted her to give it to him.
"So what are we doing today? We've done hearing and smelling tests for a week now." Wesker unlocked the car and pulled a sealed, opaque container from the trunk. It had a biohazard symbol on the side, and Claire's steps automatically slowed in response.
"A tolerance test," Wesker said while jiggling the container. "And then we'll move to physical tests."
"Please tell me that I don't have to run in an exercise wheel like a hamster." She noticed him moving toward the woods and trailed after him. "What kind of tolerance test is this? And why can't we do it at the lab?" Wesker declined to answer as he told her to wait while he moved ahead. Claire couldn't see him opening the box and removing a large, bloody hunk of flesh that he dumped onto the forest floor, but within seconds her nose knew about it. Her muscles tightened in fear of how her body would react. She could see the dead dog in the alley and again felt her stomach clench in disgust at what she had almost done, even as the bloody scent called to her. If she could only take one bite she would be happy…
"I'm not doing that again!" she boldly hollered, and she ran headlong in the opposite direction of the meat before she could change her mind. Wesker quickly repacked the flesh, sealed the container, and calmly walked back to the car. Claire had beaten him by a long shot and she stood at the downstairs window, watching him put the container in the trunk. Her arms were crossed when he entered the front door. "What the hell kind of tolerance test was that?" she demanded.
"Lose the attitude, Miss Redfield," Wesker darkly warned, as he intimidated her with his steady advance. Claire took a breath to calm herself. "Try again." He sounded like he was talking to a child, and it made Claire want to kick him, but at least he hadn't resorted to physical persuasion in a long time. She chided herself. There she went again, looking for the best in Wesker, looking for an upside.
"Why did you do that? You know how it affects me."
"Funny, because you ran in the opposite direction of what that assumption implies." Claire had to think about it. She had desired to go after the flesh, but it had revolted her more than it attracted. Wesker watched realization dawn and twisted his lips into a humorless smile. "The uncontrollable urge to eat dead matter was temporary in my experience; I was ensuring that you hadn't acquired a new taste that would prove most unpopular." Claire cast him an annoyed expression, which only made Wesker look more amused. "You passed the test, and now I suggest that you get dressed."
"Excuse me?" Claire looked at her sweat pants and black t-shirt in confusion.
"It's time for a true test, and that means outside of the lab. The Daniels are going into town for the evening, and we are going with them." Claire was floored, and she openly let her shock show. They were going out on the town for the night? If she hadn't been so shocked, she would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Wesker couldn't go out on the town; he was Wesker. He didn't do normal leisure activities. He smiled at her. "We leave in ten minutes."
Claire hurried upstairs and into the bedroom while wondering what was appropriate to wear. She didn't wonder long. A sleek, black and white dress was laid out on the bed with matching heels and jewelry. Claire fingered the smooth material. She would never be able to afford this on her own. She had never even worn anything this expensive, she was sure, and it was beautiful. Wesker had excellent taste.
She slid into the dress and admired its fit. It was a backless cocktail dress that clung in all the right places, and the bold white accents added that extra touch. It fell right to her ankles with a suggestive but tasteful slit up the side, and the black heels made her legs look even longer. She let her long hair loose over her shoulders and flipped it backwards over her head. Her fiery strands and the white amplified the gold and emerald necklace, bracelets, and dangling earrings. Claire thought that she looked quite flattering in the mirror, but she couldn't be sure. She wasn't used to dressing up or going "out on the town" in a manner that required such formal dress.
"Does everything fit?" Wesker inquired, and with a heavy dose of ego. He knew that everything fit, and he could tell by the way she'd been staring into the mirror that she was extremely pleased.
"Don't look so smug," Claire frowned, but she couldn't hold it against him, not right now. This was a wonderful break from tests and otherwise boredom while Wesker worked. "Thank you." Wesker was wearing black slacks, a black dress shirt, and a black suit jacket. His sunglasses were firmly in place. "Do you own anything of a different color?" Claire couldn't help but tease. It seemed to her that on this night she could have everything. She could feel for Wesker but not betray Chris; she could fight biohazards but have dinner with her enemy. It was as contradictory as life could get, and the more she realized that, the more her mood took a dive.
"Dear heart, it's dinner," Wesker said, as if he read her thoughts. "You're not selling your soul to the devil, so do yourself a favor and forget whatever moral scruples are bothering you." Claire smiled and they were soon driving back toward civilization. Before they left, Wesker glanced to the side of the house, where a shadowy figure stood, waiting to play his part. Wesker acknowledged the figure without stirring Claire's suspicions. She admitted that she was excited and struggling with her sentiments at the same time. She looked at Wesker as he drove, ever the confident, solitary figure.
"Dr. Daniels doesn't like you, does he? Why, besides the obvious that you're you?" she asked. Wesker glanced at her and she smiled sweetly.
"We competed under a Dr. Marcus, if you're so interested, and he's convinced that I sabotaged his work. Since then, he's constantly been after my research." Claire rolled her eyes, but she was thrilled that Wesker was being talkative.
"How typical of you people. So why are we going to dinner with him?"
"You have been asking questions as if we are allies, Miss Redfield," Wesker cautioned. "And we are not. Just enjoy the evening and watch your tongue. You do not want men like Daniels to find out that you're infected." Daniels had also transferred to HFC, which basically ran the old Umbrella resort labs now that the original company had crumbled. They had a vested interest in using Umbrella's research facilities and data without putting their name on the label for protection's sake, but Claire was ignorant of the inner workings behind the new bioweapon powers. She only needed to know that discretion was necessary.
"So what exactly are we going as?" Claire asked. "What am I supposed to tell them about us?" Wesker smiled sadistically, and Claire knew that she wasn't going to like what was coming.
"You are an acquaintance, and based on how we appear, they can draw their own conclusions. If they start asking questions, use that wonderful bluffing ability of yours." Their drive continued for some time until they entered a small city. Wesker pulled up to an elegant, curved structure and a valet rushed forward to park the car. Wesker played a perfect gentleman as he offered Claire his arm. She looped her arm through his and hid her troubled expression. It felt good to be on Wesker's arm. She faltered in her heels and was kept upright only by Wesker's arm.
"Inexperienced, dear heart?" he mocked, and Claire glowered at him.
"My idea of going out for the evening involves jeans and beer," she curtly replied, and Wesker smiled down at her with disarming charm. She fidgeted with her dress before they fully stepped inside.
"Play your part well, dear heart." This was a test for her as much as it was an opportunity for him. Daniels wanted to get at Wesker's research while he was here, but Wesker had beaten him to the punch. Whoever Daniels had involved in his scheme to exploit Wesker's absence would meet a bloody end, and it was Daniels research that would be rifled, not his. Wesker didn't need the fool's inferior research, but he wanted to send a message. Anyone who got in his way would be removed. It had been a blessing to be removed from petty politics immediately after he died. As much as manipulating others entertained him, he did not like wasting his time on pests. He wouldn't have bothered sending a weakling like Daniels a message at all had this not been a chance to see Claire in action.
He coldly greeted the people already seated at their table with a nod. The parents had brought their two boys. He already knew that Claire was excellent with kids, but he had yet to see her match off against someone as self-aware as Daniels or his wife. They were veterans in this business, and not without their own tactics. Daniels would try to weasel information from Claire if he could. Wesker smiled coldly. He was anxious to see how Claire could manipulate these two and weave lies on the fly.
"Good evening!" Claire cheerfully greeted with a winning smile. It was an honest smile that would have won over anyone. She was naturally likable but could turn into the aggressor, and that was an asset. As she brushed hair over her shoulders and glanced warmly at Wesker, he knew that he had found a possible splendor of a networker in Claire. She had already slipped into her role. With a little polishing she would be Ada's better in persuasion and undercover work; plus she was one hell of a fighter and superhuman to top it off. Claire picked up the menu and cursed lightly under her breath.
"Damn." Wesker met her eyes, and he knew what the problem was. The menu was in French. He smirked. Perhaps the evening would also be highly entertaining.
