Chapter 10

"Miss Wong, are you aware of the severity of your crimes against the US government, as well as the crimes against the rest of the world?"

Nothing. Ada continued to stare past the agent, slightly to her left with a glazed look of boredom in her eyes as if he wasn't even there. There was a deathly pause, filled by the slow rustle of papers as her interrogator pursed his lips together and toyed with the edge of a file. The four guards in the corners of the room shifted uneasily, not taking their eyes, or weapons, off her for a second.

He was going to have to do a lot better than that to scare her. Ada had never been intimidated by a pencil pusher in her life, let alone one who was telling her what she already knew. She knew them when she saw them, and the man they sent in to question her was probably the most non-threatening person in the building. He wore a three piece suit and looked more like an accountant, complete with glasses, than an agent. His southern drawl, though cute at first, only served to convince her that he was not worth her time.

It also made him a that much more boring to listen to.

"From memory, I could name about two dozen countries and private organizations that put out warrants for your capture or execution. Now, you're lucky the United States got to you first, because unlike some of those countries and organizations, we're willing to talk things out. That requires some participation from you, of course..."

Her hands were tingling from the lack of blood flow. Cuffs were bad enough, but then they decided to strap on a few disposables, thick black zip ties, then redid the metal ones so they wrapped around the folding chair back. It kept her sitting crooked, and assured her that if she tried to fight back, she'd still have her hands behind her with a metal chair dangling from her wrists. She flexed her fingers, but it did little to alleviate the strain and discomfort. The circulation was all but cut off.

The agent snapped his fingers loudly in front of her face. Slowly, she glanced at him, a dreamy expression in her eyes, then looked away. The agent couldn't hide his frustration with a sigh. He scooped up the files he brought with him then moved to the door, banging on it once to notify the guards outside. Ada allowed herself to smile secretly as he exited and shut the door once again. So much for the good cop...he had offered her treats in exchange for her to do a few tricks, but all of it was laughably pathetic. Maybe they'd try the bad cop next.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The only sound there was was the rustle of a strap from the guards' weapons, or the occasional heavy sniff. It sounded like someone was getting over the last dregs of a cold. She'd also heard someone clear their throat once in a while. The only thing Ada could do was watch her reflection in the one way mirror and wonder if he was watching back.

You have to be Leon. You probably are, anyways...but why haven't you come yet? Here I am, all trussed up for you, and you haven't even said hello yet.

It was all she could think about on the flight back in her tiny, cage-like cell. He wasn't on the same plane as her. In fact, ever since the end of the chase in Prague, she hadn't caught another glimpse of him. He seemed to be trying to stay as far away from her as possible. But she suppose she knew why; whenever the two of them were together, those feelings started to break free from the both of them.

All of this she kept bottled up inside of her. Outwardly, she was still the defiant femme fatale, cockily beating the agency at their own game. Anything short of thumb screws wasn't going to get anything from her. They could ask all the questions they'd want, and she would give them exactly nothing.

Inwardly, she was constantly brooding about Leon, and, now that she was under lock and key, what was going to happen. This was one of the many scenarios that she came up with from twisting the thread between them, and to be realistic, it was one of the more pleasant ones. The more unpleasant ones, well...she didn't want to think about them. She needed to count herself lucky.

Carefully, she glanced to one of the guards. From what she saw, he was identical to the other three; an agent with a tactical vest and an MP-5 submachine gun set to full auto. They were positioned so that she could only watch one at a time, and one was always directly at her back. Even if she wasn't restrained, she wouldn't have a chance; by the time she would be in melee range, she would be shot about a hundred times. In addition, there was a solitary camera in the corner of the ceiling, surveying the entire room like a dutiful sentry. It looked like the GSA wasn't taking any risks with her.

I guess I should be flattered.

The guard caught her staring, and for a short second, they locked eyes. Ada grinned. "So, are you the one who's going to be giving me my spanking?" she asked conversationally, then arched an eyebrow playfully with a smirk.

The guard quickly looked away, but not without some difficulty and some hesitation in his eyes. Too bad her dress didn't have shoulder straps. She could slide one down then pull the whole "oops it slipped, could you help?" routine. It was a great way to get a man in close, but with her arms cuffed as they were, it would serve no purpose other than coming off as a total skank.

The minutes ticked away with no event. Ada timed the rock of her leg with the methodical march of the wall clock as it tallied each second of her internment. The room had very little moving air, each tiny sound bouncing off the insulated walls. The two agents she could see had slightly flushed faces; the room wasn't climate controlled either, but the almost stifling heat was far better than how cold the plane had been.

The single thump that struck against the armored metal door almost made her jump in her seat; the silence had been crushing. Even a tiny ripple of sound through the air sounded like the crack of a whip. One of the guards cautiously moved to the door and opened it a crack. Ada followed him with her eyes, but was unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, let alone hear anything when he murmured almost inaudibly through the gap.

Then, the agent straightened, raising his gun to his shoulder. "File out," he commanded briskly, then slipped through the door. The other agents, giving each other slight glances of suspicion, left one by one, being careful not to let their attention drift for too long around her. Ada wouldn't deny that the chill, brisk change of guard was enough to send a sense of foreboding through her. Maybe the GSA was going to take it a step further...

...and step further they did.

The only change in her emotion was a single blink as he stepped into the room and shut the door securely behind himself. Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong alone in a government building.

"Just you and me," he said carefully, slowly walking to the chair the other agent had once occupied, resting a hand on the back of it before pulling it out to sit. "Everything else is off."

Ada swallowed once. "Awfully kind of you," she replied, her voice breaking slightly from disuse for the last half a day. From the second the cuffs went on, her still-painted lips had been zipped, with the occasional irresistible comment to toy with a grunt here and there of course.

Leon gave the slightest shrug as he sank into the chair. "You know me..."

"...always wanting to do the right thing," she finished right away. "Though that doesn't constitute 'right'. That constitutes 'convenient'."

"I knew you wouldn't say anything when we could use it against you," he said readily, though Ada thought she caught a slight hesitation in his eyes. "I thought that you might be a little more comfortable this way."

"Or maybe you just didn't want the agency hearing something from your own mouth?" she offered, then cocked her head. "Or are you just going to start hitting me?"

Leon sighed and avoided her eyes. "How about we just cut all of this?"

"I don't know, I kind of enjoy the foreplay," she teased lightly. Without really thinking, she extended her leg beneath the table, the point of her foot making contact with his thigh in a one-sided game of footsie.

With an almost casual move of his leg, he knocked her foot aside, then gave her a cold look. The small smile on Ada's lips faltered a little. A crest of shame fluttered in her chest as she looked away to the corner of the room. Her actions were almost so innate that she couldn't stop them.

The silence killed the conversation, ending their first exchange. Leon drummed a few fingers on the metal tabletop, contemplating his next move, then looked at his watch. He wasn't the type to develop a nervous habit; it looked like he was working on a time limit here.

"What were you doing in Prague?" he asked quietly.

She scoffed and continued to give the corner her attention. "Wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Yes, I would."

Goddammit, of course you would Leon.

He believed every word she told him in Raccoon City. He swallowed her story about looking for her boyfriend John, when she knew he was dead and gone for weeks already. He was even convinced he was her real boyfriend, and not some guy she was sleeping with to get information. He believed her lies and deception, believed it all even when Annette Birkin tried to tell him the truth. Only when Ada herself told him herself with a gun on him did he realize it. And by then, it was too late; the damage had been done.

"Wesker's up to something," she said finally, looking back to him. No need to tell him about S just yet. In fact, there was no reason to tell him at all.

"Ada, Wesker's always up to something," Leon replied flatly.

"This time it's different," Ada told him with a shake of her head, then flicked her bangs back with another. "He had the entire organization breathing down his neck before. Now, he doesn't."

"I thought, for all intents and purposes, Wesker was the organization."

"Oh Leon..." Ada rolled her eyes at his ignorance. "If only you knew. Wesker was only a member of the organization. At first, he was able to use his status and knowledge of Umbrella's research to work his way to the top. After all, that's why we let him in in the first place. Then, others began to see him as a threat, and they were right. He was too original, too into the game for himself. Not a team player, so to speak."

It was amazing how much she was letting go. Here she sat with who was professionally one of her greatest enemies, willingly giving away information about her employers. But with the organization gone and Wesker remaining, it sounded like nothing was really going to change. Leon still knew that Wesker was the threat. Who cared if he knew about a dead group of people?

"You suspected Wesker of betraying you, and you still brought him the sample from Spain?" he asked. The incredulous strain in his voice was more than obvious.

"Leon, that's my job," she said with exasperation. "My employers wanted me to go to Spain and retrieve a sample of Las Plagas, so I did."

"And Wesker?"

Ada sighed. "I don't know for sure."

His eyebrows raised. "What do you mean, 'you don't know for sure?'"

"I mean," Ada began patiently, "I don't have the evidence to prove my theory, just a lot of smoke and mirrors." She stared deep into him. "Isn't that how America works? You just can't go arresting people without evidence..."

"Well, why don't we talk it out and see."

It wasn't a suggestion. Ada sighed again and looked away, thinking about where the pieces had fallen so far. Donovan and Hayes gave her the same speech more or less, and they were playing opposite sides of the field. So most likely, at least most of their stories were true, and Wesker and Crow took Las Plagas for whatever reason. That was a start.

"A few weeks after Spain, something happened," Ada said, settling back onto the chair. Her hands were just a few tingles above numb. Flexing them was now useless. "I said I'd take good care of the sample; I never intended to give it to Wesker. But something changed, and my boss gave me new orders to deliver it to Wesker instead."

"You never mentioned a boss," Leon said. "We always thought you worked directly for Wesker."

"I mostly worked under and reported to Wesker, but the organization was run by several different people, the leader of which was a man who went by the name Crow. I think you might have heard the name before..."

She knew he had. In LA, with about a dozen automatic weapons pointed at him at the same time. Just the thought of that night was enough to send a shiver down her back.

"And what did this Crow guy say? You didn't think it odd that his plans changed so abruptly?"

"Of course I did, Leon," Ada said irritably. "But how are you supposed to argue with a ghost of a man who has more power than half the world? Besides, the reason he gave me was more than enough: someone was targeting the organization."

"Let me guess, that incident in LA?" Leon asked.

Ada nodded, fully appreciating just how smart he was. "Yeah. I was tracking the assassin who was taking out members of the inner circle. That was all good and well, case closed. But about two weeks ago, I got another assignment, dealing with a rogue agent. It took a few days, but I managed to catch up with him, and he told me a few interesting things as to why he stabbed the organization in the back."

"He learned something about Wesker," Leon realized.

Ada smirked. "Only half right. Leon, it was Crow and Wesker the whole time. Spain was probably just a way to get Las Plagas without contending with the organization upfront. Once the two of them had it, they could take the risk to eliminate them at their leisure. What better way to hire an outside asset then have the rest of the organization running in circles trying to fix the problem

There was a pause as Ada let that sink in. Leon's features didn't change; he'd probably learned to keep a poker face throughout the years. "That's a pretty twisted conspiracy, Ada. How do you know how much of it is true?"

"I told, you I don't," she purred lazily with a shrug.

"So why are you telling me all of this then?"

"Because quite honestly, I have nothing left to lose. I've been around long enough to see what happens to captured agents. Even if all of this is a pipe dream, and I'm completely wrong or I've gone totally batshit, I'm damaged goods. I'm a risk to the organization, one they won't take back, and they'll make damn sure that no one else takes me either."

Leon leaned back in his chair, eyes downcast as he pondered what she said. "Well, I'll have to run this by my superiors and see what they say. You know they can't trust you right off the bat."

Ada shrugged indifferently. Of course they wouldn't. It would take a while to prove her merit, especially with the little evidence she did have. That's where S came in. If she needed to, she could drop the ball about their bioweapon program for a little leverage. Not the greatest way to repay Richard Hayes after his cooperation, but oh well...that was life in their world. She was far from sitting pretty though, as with her attacker in Philadelphia, the possibility that she was already discovered was very high.

Their business seemed to be concluded, but Leon didn't move. Slowly, he turned his wrist to check his watch. Ada looked too, though it didn't have any meaning, since she didn't know when their time limit began, or how big the limit was to begin with.

"Tell me why, Ada," Leon said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"Didn't you ask me that in Spain?" she asked darkly, then added with a scoff, "What's it to you?"

"Because I want to know why someone like you does what she does," said Leon. "You could have been anything; a dancer, a model, an actress... hell, a Vegas showgirl."

Ada chuckled, amused by what he thought. It might have been six years since Leon was a rookie, but he hadn't lost that naïveness that made him so adorable, that sense of good and evil with nothing in between. "Oh Leon, do you really think that kind of life is special? What you see in magazines and TV is only an illusion. You see the glamor and beauty and supposed happiness and success, but underneath that is the pain and depression of a pointless life; success isn't measured in talent, it depends on how well you blow your boss. That might be fine for some, but me...I prefer a life that I control, where my goals are only limited by my abilities. If that means I have to get my hands bloody or break a few hearts, so be it.

"I hate to point it out, but if that's what you believe, that makes you a hypocrite," Leon mused.

Ada narrowed her eyes at the remark. He had said it so casually, though coming from him, it may as well been spit in her face. "What are you talking about?"

"You said your goals are only limited by your abilities. But tell me this, Ada..." Leon leaned forward, folding his hands together on the table between them. "If that is true, why didn't you pull the trigger in Raccoon City?"

Her face flushed almost as red as the silk dress she wore when the blood ran to her cheeks. "I-I was out," she stammered. Half the truth.

"I checked your gun on the turntable before I left you at that office," Leon said staring at her hard. "You had a full clip. 15 rounds. After you fell, I checked it again. Even if you were out, you wouldn't have removed the clip." He cocked his head thoughtfully at her. "You, an experienced agent who controls her own life, was presented with the easiest way to complete your mission: shoot me and take the G-Virus. So why did you unload your gun?"

He's right. He's right, and I won't admit it. God, why won't I admit it?

Because he was right. Not just about Raccoon, but about her being a hypocrite as well. Despite her rough start in life, she managed to pull herself out of the gutter and into pleasurable living, all with her own effort and cunning. Everything about her was sculpted with her own hands, from her preened exterior and cool determination to the way she put a bullet between a target's eyes. Leon Kennedy interrupted that methodical flow to her life when they met, and made her realize that not everything could come from oneself. It had scared her at first, but the longer she was with him, the fear turned into longing.

Her throat tightened, forming a lump deep within the slender appendage. That little gnawing started in her stomach, slowly working its way upward. All of the familiar signs were there, and despite being alone with him and unrecorded, she couldn't come out and say it.

"You know I could never shoot you Leon," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, repeating what she said near tears in Los Angeles amidst a hail of bullets. "It's the same reason why you couldn't let me fall."

Thump

Just like that, their seemingly eternal ten minutes was up. With the hollow pound as the only warning, the door opened, and Ada pursed her lips together, regardless of whether the monitoring equipment was on or not. One of the agents from before entered, his weapon slung casually at his side.

"Time's up Kennedy, boss wants her moved into holding for now," he said to Leon with a jerk of his head towards the door.

Leon nodded absently as he gently tapped on the table between them, as if he was thinking of something else, which Ada knew he was. Without a word, he got up, eyes cast down and walked from the room, leaving her to struggle to put on her mask of neutrality back on after the onslaught of emotion.

Two more agents entered the room. The first said nothing as he calmly leveled his weapon at her face while the other two moved to her back. Ada felt hands at the cuffs behind her, undoing the locks around her wrist. There was a moment of relief as the metal bands came free, much needed blood flowing a little more freely, but it was short lived as they were reattached, this time free of the chair. A small knife snipped the plastic disposables away, and they roughly hauled her to her feet.