Chapter 9
Just what we all need
More lies about a world that
Never was and never will be
Have you no shame?
Don't you see me?
You know you've got everybody fooled
-"Everybody's Fool," Evanescence
March 7, 2005
Zurich
It was 7am on the day of Tricell's annual shareholder meeting and Excella was already on the warpath. "The dress was delivered last night and it is not fuchsia," she said without glancing up from her cell phone. "Didn't Adrianna take the order?"
Sherry had been staring out the car window but now turned to Excella, bleary-eyed. "I...I didn't see her when I went to the store," she replied. "It was a different clerk."
Excella's head shot up. "I specifically requested fuchsia!" she snapped. "The dress is coral at best!"
Sherry avoided the older woman's gaze as she pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse. "Right, I'll take it back first thing tomorrow," she said.
Excella wrinkled her nose. "You'd better. I need it for my anniversary with you father this week."
Sherry blinked. "Your...what?" She glanced at the back of Carlos's head in front of her, but he was talking softly to the driver.
"The anniversary of the day we met, one year ago. He didn't tell you?" Excella's smile was anything but kind.
Sherry just looked down at the blank pad and scribbled a note about returning the dress. And I fucked him last night. He didn't tell you?
Excella let out an exaggerated sigh as the car pulled to a stop in front of the Swissôtel Zürich's convention center. "Good, we're here. Name tag?"
Sherry handed her the piece of laminated plastic just as Carlos came around to open the door. Without another word, Excella sprung out of the back seat. Sherry followed at a distance and pulled her own name tag out of her purse as she walked, trying to ignore the morning air's biting chill.
And which face would she be wearing today? Ah yes, the dutiful daughter, long-suffering executive assistant and certified pretty young thing. Sometimes she missed the simple life of Sherry Trevor, the girl who grew up in London and loved to play the piano and jog. And all that remained of Sherry Birkin was the locket around her neck. But today she was most definitely Sherry Wesker.
She trailed Excella and Carlos up a curved staircase like a shadow. The older woman was the very picture of propriety in an elegant white overcoat with her inky hair twisted up behind her head. She looks like a queen, Sherry mused. Or someone who thinks she's a queen.
They reached a lobby area where the catering staff was setting up a breakfast buffet and several Tricell employees busied themselves around tables that were covered with rows of name tags. Within an hour, the conference center would be filled with hundreds of Tricell investors—people who knew nothing about the secret labs or that bloody night in the forest or the mysterious contractor who spent so much time with the chairman's daughter. No, today was all about image.
"If anyone needs me, I'll be with the events director in the ballroom. You can stay out here," Excella said curtly before she and her bodyguard vanished behind a set of double doors. Bianca looked up from one of the tables and beckoned to Sherry.
"How goes it?" Bianca asked.
"Oh you know, the usual: spreading ill will and discontent." She set her purse and coat down behind one of the tables and quickly scanned the lobby for Sean. To her relief, she didn't see him.
"Nice." Bianca held out a box of name tags. "Here, they're already in alpha order. Start on that table."
They worked in silence for a few minutes before Bianca spoke up. "So spring's finally right around the corner. There's all these great music festivals coming up, and we've barely hit up the clubs in Kreis 5."
"I'm kind of over clubbing," Sherry said flatly without looking up from the row of tags she was arranging.
"Figures." Bianca rolled her eyes. "Scary Sherry only cares about one thing. How's your little side-project going, anyway?"
Sherry glanced around again before answering. "No progress."
"Maybe you can ask your secret boyfriend for help," she muttered slyly.
Sherry let the box of name tags drop to the table. "What did you say?"
"Umm, we were roomies, remember?" Bianca sidled up to Sherry, her voice dropping low. "I know you're on the Pill. And when I came back from Christmas break, our room totally smelled like a guy. And you're obviously never going to seal the deal with Sean, so..."
Sherry was too shocked to deny it. "No one can know," she rasped.
"Geez, don't worry. Like I would ever tell Sean or your—oh, speak of the devil."
Sherry turned around and saw a tall figure in a long black coat walking towards them—fast.
"Where is Excella? I need to speak to her immediately." Wesker said when he reached them. He shifted the briefcase he was carrying from one gloved hand to the other and turned to Bianca. "Would you excuse us?"
"You don't have to ask me twice." Bianca gave Sherry an uneasy look before she walked away.
"Excella's micromanaging in the ballroom." Sherry put her hands on her hips and stared into the mirrored lenses that hid his eyes. "And you're not supposed to be here."
"Sherry," Wesker began tersely.
"Yes, Daddy?" she shot back.
A door opened behind them. "Albert! I told you to stay away today!" Excella trilled as she strode over with Carlos hot on her heels. "We can't let anyone see you—"
"God damn it, woman!" he hissed in Excella's face. "Has it occurred to any of you that I might not be here to crash the buffet?"
Carlos made a brave attempt at small talk as Wesker pulled some folders out of his briefcase. "Y'know, I never asked: Just where are you from?"
"If you must know, I grew up in Boston but I left when I was 17," Wesker replied without looking up.
"Oh yeah? I've met a few people from South Boston. Fun guys."
Wesker frowned. "That's Southie. Totally different. As different as...well, you and I."
They'd relocated to a smaller meeting room off the conference center's lobby and were now clustered at one end of a long table. Excella stood with her hands clasped in front of her, watching Wesker intently. And Sherry was watching her. Carlos isn't enough for you after all? You still want to take him, too?
"One of our B.O.W. researchers disappeared last night, along with some incriminating files," Wesker said as he handed manila folders to each of them in turn. Sherry flipped her folder open and immediately recognized the photo inside. It was one of the scientists from the secret lab outside Zurich. "We believe he fled to his home city in northern Poland. You'll be taking the train instead of flying in case we get new intel and you have to change direction," he said to Carlos.
"We can't let a local asset handle this?" Carlos asked, suddenly all business.
"Too sensitive," Wesker replied sharply. "Your train leaves in an hour. Retrieve the files and neutralize the target, not necessarily in that order."
"You're the best man for the job." Excella shot Carlos a smile that Sherry knew was more than merely polite. Then Excella turned to her and the smile faded. "And of course, Sherry's my assistant, so I know she wants to help any way she can. Don't you, my dear?"
"Your first time on this side of the old Iron Curtain, chica?"
"Yes, actually," Sherry said as she gazed at the gray and white countryside outside the train's window. "I had no idea it would be so...bleak." This was not the Europe she knew. The towns they passed through were smaller and more run-down than she was used to. Winter's grip still held strong here, and the other people on the train were bundled up in bulky coats with their faces hidden under scarves and hats.
"It's a lot better than it was 20 years ago," Carlos said solemnly. "You should've seen it then. It takes a long time to come back from Communism. A long time." The heaviness in his voice took Sherry by surprise.
She'd grown even more suspicious of Carlos since that regrettable afternoon in Excella's apartment. Every time Sherry looked at him, those disgusting sounds replayed in her mind. He and Excella were living a lie—a lie not so different from one Sherry knew all too well—though to what end, she could only guess. And yet Carlos was always so relaxed. He didn't even ask if she'd found the missing deed when she returned the keys. Is he really that confident or just oblivious?
"Where are you from?" she said, feeling a sudden urge to pry.
"A little bit of everywhere," Carlos replied with a shrug. "And some places I'd rather forget."
Something in his tone told Sherry it was better to change the subject. "I can't believe Excella doesn't mind you being away. We have no idea how long we're going to be here."
"This will take two, maybe three days max," Carlos said as he pulled out a cell phone and slid off the back casing to pop in a fresh SIM card. "And she'll be okay without me. She's a big girl."
Sherry cocked an eyebrow. Right. And I suppose you and Excella were just playing rock-paper-scissors on that bed. Not bloody likely.
"But..." she stopped herself and blushed. Sherry wanted the scream, She's just using you! She's going to take everything!
He looked up at her quizzically. "Chica, you okay?"
No, I am not okay. You don't need my help to find your target or those files and I'm only here so she can have Al all to herself.
"I'm fine," Sherry lied neatly. Then she asked, "Have you ever done anything like this before?"
Carlos looked out at the gray land rolling past. "I've done a lot of things," he said softly.
The language around them turned Slavic as the train moved further north. People started giving them odd looks when they heard her and Carlos speaking English, so Sherry spent the remainder of the trip staring silently out the window. She daydreamed about the Pyrenees. Maybe she'd go back there this summer and try to find the little stone farmhouse again. Maybe, if she asked nicely, Wesker would come with her.
It was late by the time the train deposited them in a city near the Baltic Sea. They checked into a small hotel in the old medieval quarter. Carlos sat down at their room's desk and turned on the laptop they'd brought with them while Sherry settled into one of the twin beds. She rolled onto her side, feeling strangely unmoored without the weight of a body beside her, and found her thoughts wandering to Excella's stupid fuchsia dress. She'll take everything unless I stop her. But how will I know the time is right...?
Just before Sherry drifted off to sleep, she heard Carlos say, "Good, he's here."
In the morning, they walked past shiny new shopping malls and soot-stained churches and flower stalls on street corners, silently scanning every face they saw. They stopped at a souvenir store and Carlos bought a pair of amber earrings shaped like teardrops.
"She likes Cartier better," Sherry said, guessing who they were for.
"Maybe she'll like them because they're from me," was all he said.
Carlos' cell phone rang as they left the shop. He picked up without saying hello and listened for a moment, his face blank. "A local operative has a confirmed sighting," Carlos told her when the call ended.
"We still have to take care of it?" Sherry asked, but he was already walking away down a narrow cobblestone street. An immense brick church loomed at the end. Carlos knocked the slush from his boots before he walked in. Sherry watched him dip his fingers in the nearest holy water font and cross himself.
She followed suit and Carlos looked over at her, stunned. "You're part of this club, too?"
Sherry just smiled. I can keep you guessing too, you know.
The church's interior was stark white, and there were ancient paintings, plaques and statues everywhere. Quite a few people milled about, but the only sound in the huge building was the occasional echo of footsteps. Sherry was looking at a painted altar piece of the Last Judgement when Carlos tugged at her coat sleeve. "There," he whispered.
She looked across the aisle and saw a man standing alone at the foot of a statue of the Virgin Mary. He turned his head to nod at another group of people walking by. Sherry recognized his drooping mustache and sad eyes even from this distance. She remembered him from that day in the lab as he walked down that long corridor with the other researchers, hanging on Wesker's every nod, every frown...
Sherry turned away. Just now, she could've sworn a shadow had passed in front on her face.
It was dark again when they watched the scientist cross a busy street and walk into a walled park.
Carlos clucked his disapproval. "What is he doing? He should stick to crowded areas."
"You honestly think he's done something like this before?" Sherry said indignantly as she tossed her empty soda bottle in a garbage can.
They'd been tailing him all afternoon and as far as they could tell, he hadn't noticed them yet. It reminded Sherry of how she and Jack used to track animals. But that was just a dress rehearsal. Now, under the yellow light of street lamps and slowly-falling snowflakes, she and Carlos stepped through black iron gates and onto a snow-covered promenade lined with tall trees.
The park was nearly deserted on this frigid night. Maybe the scientist knew it well and was using it as a shortcut. Maybe he felt comfortable here. Maybe he'd seen them and wanted to die.
It doesn't matter, Sherry angrily reminded herself. Just finish the mission and I can go...
She caught herself thinking of London, thinking of that damnable word "home."
She gritted her teeth as they brushed past another couple walking in the opposite direction. Carlos quickened his pace, moving in front of her. Sherry saw him glance quickly over his shoulder as he pulled something out of his pocket. He nodded back at her. It was like his face was made of stone. The best man for the job...
Sherry blinked and the next thing she knew, Carlos was dragging the man into some bushes. She dashed over, heedless of anyone else who might come down the path, and followed them into the brush. There were muted noises of a struggle somewhere in front of her. She heard labored grunts and gasps and the sound of feet kicking against snow—but no shouts. Sherry let a pine bough fall back into place behind her and saw that Carlos had pulled the man into a kind of bower. They were shielded from the main path by a stand of trees and some large bushes. Sherry stood silently now and watched Carlos struggle with the man laid out before him.
Carlos was on his knees, practically sitting in the scraggly, bare bush behind him. The scientist was on his back but struggling to get up. He clawed at his throat and Sherry saw Carlos' hands were locked behind the man's head. Carlos was yanking at something...
A garotte, Sherry realized. She tried not to look at the man's pleading eyes or his mouth that hung open in a silent scream. This was different from the night she killed the dogs. They were animals—sick ones, at that—and she'd been in control. But this...this was just awful. Sherry tried not to think of his name, but it leapt into her mind all the same. Wojtek. his name is Wojtek. Carlos is killing Wojtek.
Carlos's expression remained still, and Sherry hoped her face looked just as calm. Soon, the scientist stopped kicking. But Carlos did not twist the ligature, did not torture the man needlessly, and instead ended him quite gently, the same way Sherry liked to end her songs.
Sherry's fingers curled around a piece of plastic in the man's jacket pocket and she pulled out a silver flash drive. A business card fell onto the snow too. She grabbed it and shoved both items into her own coat pocket. She was fairly sure Carlos didn't notice. He was doubled over in the snow now, panting from exertion—or maybe from the horror of what he'd just done? He looked up at her and his face was as blank as ever. No, just exhaustion, Sherry decided.
"The car," Carlos said. "Pull up to that gate and pop the trunk."
She nodded and turned to rejoin the path. They'd parked the rental car a few blocks away—a short but strangely arduous trek through the outside world. Sherry forced herself to go away inside and switched to auto-pilot. Somehow, she found the car and drove it to the park entrance.
Carlos was nowhere to be seen, so she switched on the car's dome light and pulled out the business card. There was a round blue logo on one side, emblazoned with four red letters: B.S.A.A. She didn't recognize the name on the other side, but saw an address in London. Maybe they'd be interested in Excella's antics...
Just then, she registered movement out of the corner of her eye. Two men had just walked out from under the park's iron gate. One was leaning heavily on the other as if he were drunk or hurt. Then Sherry saw it was actually Carlos carefully dragging along the scientist's corpse.
She fumbled to find the dashboard trunk release and realized her blood was pounding in her ears. No, don't think about Raccoon City! Don't think about Mom and Dad!
In the falling snow and low light, the upright dead man had nearly looked like something else.
It was hard to stop the laptop from bouncing on her knees as Carlos drove the car a little too fast down a country road. They were outside the city now, and Sherry could only assume Carlos knew where he was going. She slid the recovered jump drive into the computer's USB port and did her best to read its contents without getting carsick.
"What the hell is this? Ur...Uro...I can't even say it."
"Are they the files?" Carlos asked without taking his eyes off the road.
She closed the laptop and wrenched around to put it in the car's back seat. "Yeah, I think so."
"Good," he said. "Now we just have to figure out who he was going to sell the intel to."
"That's not our job," Sherry said firmly. "Leave that to Excella and my dad." She shoved her hand into her coat pocket and nervously thumbed the business card.
It was well past midnight when they pulled up to a small lake. The laptop and jump drive went into Sherry's backpack and the car went into the water. They watched it sink under the beams of their flashlights. Carlos had a map and they soon found their way back to the main road. By dawn, they were at the nearest town's train station, waiting for the first express of the day.
"There's only two things to do after a night like that," Carlos asserted as he twisted open his fourth bottle of beer. "Make love to a beautiful woman or get righteously drunk. Preferably both, but this will have to do." He'd put away the cold face from the night before and was back to his usual jovial self. But now he made Sherry more nervous than ever. He had two selves, just like her. Which one was the real Carlos, she didn't know.
After returning to the city and reporting back to Excella, they'd wandered into a Mexican restaurant to kill time before their flight back to Zurich. It was a kitschy place geared toward tourists. Carlos quickly pronounced the food to be pathetic, but the loud music inside helped mask their conversation.
Sherry clinked the neck of her beer bottle against his but didn't drink. Maybe his guard was finally down and she could get some answers out of him. "What, I'm not beautiful?" she asked, feigning a wounded pout.
"You are off-limits." Carlos gave her a clandestine wink. "You're papi's perfect little pearl, no matter what you do. No man will ever be good enough for you in his eyes."
"What about Excella? Does her dad think there's any man good enough for her?"
Carlos chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, you are good, chica. You are good."
"And you're in love with her," Sherry said flatly.
He grinned and reached for the bowl of tortilla chips that sat between them. "Sure, parts of me are in love with her."
Sherry grabbed his hand before it could reach its goal and looked Carlos straight in the eye. "Why even bother?" she pressed. "You bought her a souvenir; my father can buy her the world."
Carlos slipped out of her grip with a flick of his wrist. "The world can be an awfully lonely place. Money can't fix that." His voice had a cold edge again. "You'll understand someday, when some man finally makes you smile for real."
Her indignation was genuine this time. "Excuse me?" Sherry blurted.
"It's your eyes," Carlos said with a wag of his finger. "Even when you smile, they stay sad. So that makes your smile sad, too. A man sees something like that and he can't help himself. He needs to know why. Men will follow a smile like that. Maybe even die for it."
Sherry felt like her face was turning the same color as the red tablecloth. So she'd been wrong about Carlos. He really was that confident. And dangerous.
"Must be the Irish in me. My mother's maiden name was Murphy," she finally managed to say, softening her tone. "Look, I promise I won't tell anyone what you said about her—I mean, about how you..."
Carlos just smiled and started to peel the label off his beer bottle. "That's okay, chica. As if anyone would believe you anyway."
Sherry held her breath and let her head sink under the warm water. Her hair floated up around her face, along with the sweat and grime of the mission. Rattled and numb, she needed sleep badly, but a bath was all she'd been able to think about on the plane. When she sat up in the tub and pushed the hair out of her eyes, she saw Wesker hunting around in one of the bathroom cabinets.
"I hear things went well," he said. Sherry didn't respond. "It was a good experience for you. Our work isn't always confined to offices and labs." He finally located a box of contact lenses and turned to the mirror above the sink. "You may be called on to do something like that again, especially after the year is out."
"Great. Brilliant," Sherry muttered at his back.
Wesker turned and walked to the side of the bathtub with a look that passed for concern on his face. "I would never send you somewhere I could not find you." He leaned over and brushed aside the wet hair plastered against her neck, finding the small bump behind her ear with his fingertips.
Sherry cringed inwardly and looked at the white tiled wall. "I need a vacation. Can we go home for a few days?"
His hand fell away and he stood up straight. "Why are you so obsessed with that word?" Wesker sounded irritated. "There is no such thing. Calling something 'home' is practically a guarantee it will be taken away from you."
Sherry looked up at him now. "How would you know?"
"I just know." He turned back to the sink. "Anyway, now we have to figure out who he was going to sell the research to."
Sherry thought about the business card now hidden at the bottom of her sock drawer along with Jack's combat knife. Suddenly, she wanted to fight. "Are you sure he wanted to sell it?" she asked cattily. "Maybe he was going to rat you out."
"Why would you think that?" That same hint of annoyance again. He was not in the mood to be challenged tonight. Well that's just too bad.
"What is Urobouros?"
Wesker set down the box of tinted lenses on the sink countertop but did not turn around. "You were supposed to retrieve the files, not read them." Then he said, "It's an idea—an idea that may just work. Don't concern yourself with it right now."
"Like I'm not supposed to concern myself with Giacomo's will?" she demanded.
In an instant, he was looming over her, gripping either side of the tub so she couldn't get out. "What. Did. You. See?" Wesker shouted in her face.
Sherry shrank back for a moment, then lifted her chin to meet his searing gaze. "I'm Excella's assistant," she said. "I see lots of things. Did you think I wouldn't?"
"No, I just thought you'd be more discreet," he snarled. "And I thought Excella would do a better job of concealing my plan."
Sherry felt goosebumps rise on her skin, even the parts that were underwater. "Your...your plan?" she stammered. She'd been so focused on Excella that she completely missed what was happening on the other side of her own bed. Of course Wesker was involved.
"Yes, my plan." Wesker was talking fast now, his voice an angry barrage. "Her father's giving her free reign for now, but he has no intention of letting her take over the company. He knows she's not ready. We have no choice but to alter his will and bribe the board to look the other way."
"Forge his will, you mean," Sherry shot back as she tried to sit up straighter in the tub. "Why do you want to control a company known for its ethics anyway?"
Wesker let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "That's simple: No one will ever suspect them." He flexed his fingers against the bath's porcelain sides. "Is there anything else you'd like to inform me of, chatelaine?"
For a second, Sherry considered telling him about Carlos and Excella, then she remembered the stony look on Carlos's face. No, it was too risky. Besides, she had something better. "Yesterday, I helped kill a man on your orders," Sherry said as calmly as she could. "But I'm not the one you're taking to dinner tonight, am I?"
His red eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Just what are you saying?"
Sherry folded her arms over her bare breasts. "This thing with Giacomo's will..." she began scornfully. "It's so clear now: Excella is your equal, not me."
Water sloshed across the floor as Wesker yanked her out of the tub by her shoulders. Sherry shouted in protest as she nearly tripped over the side. Then her feet found the floor as he pinned her against the bathroom door.
Wesker's teeth were bared in a furious sneer. "You take that back now!"
"Take it back?" Sherry almost laughed. "What are you, four years old?" His grip on her upper arms tightened but that just made her madder. "Cut it out already," she spat. "You're going to be late for your anniversary."
"Fine," Wesker hissed as her let her go and stepped back. "Get out of my way."
Sherry hovered in front of the door, glaring at him. He was ready for a night out, all right: black pants and a black shirt and no doubt a black silk tie and black suit jacket waiting in the other room. And here she was, naked and dripping wet, shoulders smarting from where he'd grabbed her and still raw from a murder committed in his name. But she was supposed to get out of his way?
Sherry lunged forward, grabbed the collar of his shirt with both hands and yanked hard. Black buttons scattered across the tiles. Wesker grabbed her again and swung her around. The back of her legs collided with the bathroom counter's marble edge and Sherry let out a yelp of pain, but it was instantly smothered by his mouth.
Little plastic bottles, toothbrushes and makeup compacts clattered to the floor as Sherry slid onto the countertop's wide end and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pulled fiercely at the black clothes that stood between her and the man she suddenly needed badly. There was no more preamble; the argument had been their foreplay.
She cried out again as their bodies slammed together. There was something savage in his rhythm tonight, as if Wesker wanted to consume her. It was the same wounded anger she'd seen back in January. He seized her hips and pulled her against him, moving with a ferocity that soon began to hurt.
"It's too much...I can't..." Sherry panted as her head rolled back against the surface of the mirror.
"Oh no you don't." Wesker's voice was a feral snarl in her ear. "Take it all. Take all of it..."
His growl rose to a primal cry as the rush took them both to the edge and then over it. She felt his fingers digging into her skin and for a split second, he was hers and hers alone.
The cold tile floor was a shock to her bare feet when she finally slipped off the countertop. Still gasping for air, Sherry found the edge of the tub with her hand and gingerly sunk to her knees. She glance over at the pair of legs next to her and realized she was grinning.
But Wesker gaped at his wet, ruined clothes as if he'd just come out of a trance. "Do you have any idea how much this shirt..." He trailed off and plucked his discarded belt and the box of contacts from the floor. "Do not tell anyone what you told me tonight," he said as he made for the door. "It could ruin everything."