Chapter 12
The last day and a half was one of Leon's worst (topping that list was Raccoon City). He had left the hospital and contacted Colonel Evans. Leon wasn't sure how his superior would take the recent events. He couldn't exactly see his face over the phone, and Evans' voice didn't sound that upset. He just gave a semi-irritable sounding sigh, then ordered Leon to retrieve the information that Claire had been holding and report back to HQ.
Leon's rental fee for his car was already taken care of. The car was completely totaled, riddled with dozens of bullet holes and smashed to hell. He opted to take a taxi back to Claire's apartment. After a knock on the landlord's door and a wave of his I.D, Leon was once again standing inside her apartment.
He sincerely hoped that Chris would be back, but no such luck. The apartment was empty and just as they had left it. Whoever attacked them didn't come to take the laptop. Leon didn't know why.
"Maybe too many witnesses?" Leon thought as he picked up the laptop case, then unzipped it partway to confirm it's contents. "Or maybe they just didn't know where she lived. I dunno."
At any rate, Leon now held the data on the Matriarch Virus securely in his hands. One thing still bothered him though. It was what Claire had said.
I've got it tucked away.
There was still a copy of this computer's contents. Claire never told Leon where it was. It could be in the apartment for all he knew.
"Or it could be in a rented locker downtown, or halfway across the globe."
Leon wouldn't have time to sweep every nook and cranny of the place. If Chris and Claire wanted something hidden, it would probably stay that way. The only thing he could do now is get back as fast as possible and start to find out where Claire was taken. He gave the landlord a brief message on his way out.
"Make sure this place stays locked down tight."
The landlord gave him a small roll of his eyes. The whole thing sounded stupid. He let Leon into Claire's apartment because of his I.D, even if at first he didn't believe that it was real. He still didn't really believe Leon, but at the same time, he didn't want to risk even a remote chance that the situation was real. The last thing he wanted was to get roped into the FBI's business.
Leon left the apartment complex and went back to where his cab was waiting for him on the street. The driver merged with traffic and started to head to the airport. Leon flexed his hand on the laptop case's handle and checked his watch. Evans said that he sent the organization's private plane to pick him up. It would be arriving shortly.
When the taxi reached the airport, Leon's phone rang. The plane had arrived. He wouldn't even have to weed through security. The taxi dropped him off at a gate in the fence that surrounded the tarmac. Leon tossed the driver his fare, not bothering to wait for change, then grabbed his duffel bag and the laptop case. Airport security let him through the gate. Up ahead, Leon saw the organization's plane. It was a small, sleek looking private jet.
It took a lot of Leon's willpower to not run to the boarding stairs. It would have made him look like an idiot, among other things. He forced himself to walk, quickly. He hated to lose time with something so trivial as walking, but he had to stay calm. If he panicked, he wouldn't be any good to anyone, especially Claire. He at least allowed himself to jog casually up the boarding steps into the airplane's cabin.
As soon as he was on board, the plane taxied onto the runway and took off. Leon briefly wondered how much their actions interfered with the airports schedule. How many planes would be late in taking off and landing because they spent ten minutes on the ground?
The flight was shorter than Leon's commercial flight, but even for him, it wasn't fast enough. He wanted nothing more than to start picking apart the information from the police. There had to be some clue as to who took Claire and where they went.
"There's nothing you can do right now, so settle down!" Leon thought. He just noticed that he was gripping his left knee rather tightly. "Just wait until you get back." Leon loosened his death grip and stared out the window, watching the clouds pass as the plane ascended higher into the atmosphere.
The plane landed in Washington D.C, and the organization was waiting for him with a ride. It was one of the same SUV's that Leon had ridden in on his first mission. The vehicle took him straight to HQ. Toting his duffel bag over his shoulder and the case in his hand, Leon headed straight to the organizations wing in the FBI building. After getting off the elevator, he made a b-line for Evans. Leon knocked at the door, and his superior's voice bid him entry. He shut the door behind him.
Evans was seated at his own cluttered desk, typing on his laptop. He stopped when Leon entered. He shut his computer and turned his direct attention on his rookie.
"Okay Kennedy," he said, "What do you got?"
Leon let his duffel bag fall from his shoulder near the door, then hoisted the laptop onto the front of Evans' desk.
"Information regarding a new type of virus called the Matriarch Virus, sir," he reported. "This is what the S.T.A.R.S found in North Dakota."
"Let me guess. That's the same stuff we picked up on the plane?"
Leon nodded. "Yes, sir. The information details that there were three samples, and only three samples made."
Evans waved his hand, as if he didn't care. "Enough of that, we can get to that later. What happened to Redfield? I read the police report and heard a little from you, but I want to hear the whole thing start to finish."
Leon retold the story, from when he landed at the airport, to each day that he spent with Claire. Every so often, Evans' would interject and ask a question to clarify things. Leon retold the story of the attack in detail, everything down to the last shot fired, and where it landed.
"Did you get a make of the weapons?" Evans asked.
"No sir. All I could see were their suppressors. Without seeing the police report, I would guess nine millimeter, maybe forty-five. I made out one pistol, but there was also automatic gunfire."
"What about a look at their faces?"
Leon shook his head. "Tinted windows. None of them opened enough to get a clear look."
Evans sighed and leaned back in his computer chair. He folded one arm across his stomach, and propped his elbow on it, placing his index finger against his temple.
"So much for preliminary analysis," he muttered to himself. To Leon he asked, "Why do you think they abducted Redfield?"
"Well, the most obvious reason is because she had the information," Leon said, patting the laptop case. "She also told me that they made a backup of it."
"Do you know where it is?" Evans asked.
"No sir," Leon admitted. "She wouldn't tell me."
"Hmmm..." Evans said, thinking aloud. "Lets assume that if she was kidnapped for information, then they'll be looking for this computer. Hopefully, nothing will bring up the fact about a backup."
This bit of deduction made Leon very nervous. If Evans was right, that meant there would be interrogation. He couldn't even imagine what Claire could be feeling. Now he felt even more helpless. He almost missed it when Evans spoke next.
"...I want you to know that I was going to take you off this assignment-" he began.
"I hope you reconsider, sir," Leon said quickly. He wanted nothing more in the world to find Claire, and he was planning to do whatever it took. Going rogue was not how he wanted to do things after just getting into this organization. Evans raised a hand, as if to acknowledge something.
"I have, Kennedy. We brought you in for your experience, and it would be stupid on my part not to put you on. You'll have the rest of us working with you too. Cullen is already going through the police reports."
Leon breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you sir."
"Well anyways, I was going to take you off because of your relation with Redfield."
"My relation, sir?"
"Yes, I can tell you care about her."
Damn right he cared about her. They had survived a living hell together, and both of them owed each other their lives. Claire was closer to him than a little sister, than best friend. He wasn't sure if his feelings for her went beyond that, or if she thought that of him. Either way, Leon definitely cared about her.
"Yes sir, I do."
"I just didn't want that to interfere with your performance."
"Well that's going to be tough." Leon thought grimly. How could he not let his emotions affect him with something like this?
"It won't sir."
"Good," Evans said. "You're dismissed Kennedy. I'll have a look at what's on this thing. Any information from the police will be directly forwarded to all of us."
"Yes sir, thank you sir." Leon left Evans' office, picking up his bag on the way out. He headed back to his own office. When he got there, the light was on, and he saw the arc of Cullen's back through the doorway. It looked like she was actually working for once.
When Leon entered, she tugged her headphones out of her ears.
"Hey Leon, you're back!" she said, trying to sound casual. Leon heard the strain in her voice. She knew what happened. A quick glance to her computer showed Leon one of the police reports.
Of course, when Leon left to go see Claire, Cullen was all over it. She was going on about love letters and old flings until he left her still laughing in the office. Now it seemed that she was embarrassed that she had acted so childish. Either that, or she felt guilty that she made fun of him, and now the whole situation had turned sour.
"Hey," Leon greeted her, trying to sound casual as well.
He dropped his bag and took his seat at his desk, then logged onto the network. The police reports were already in his email's inbox. He opened a few, but there was really no new information. The stuff the cop had told him gave him more insight than what he read.
The minutes turned to hours, the sun began to sink lower in the horizon until it disappeared completely. The day was winding down, and Leon still sat at his desk, trying to piece things together. A few more reports came in. They were some preliminary forensic results. Some bullets were retrieved from the rental car. They were a mix of nine millimeter and .45 ACP rounds. Dozens of rounds were retrieved, mostly from near the driver's side of the car. Leon didn't find anything useful from the bullets. Any civilian could buy them in any type of sporting goods store.
Eventually, Cullen packed up her things and began to leave. Leon didn't look at her, but felt her pause, as if she was going to say something.
"Bye," she said quickly. Leon only lifted a hand and waved.
The knot that Leon had felt in his gut all day had returned. He was getting nowhere. Claire had been missing for a full 24 hours now. If Evans theory was right, that was already to long. Leon had no idea what was happening to Claire, or if she was even okay.
Leon worked through the night, combing through reports and evidence, never leaving his office. Eventually, around 3 or 4 in the morning, he nodded with his head next to his computer. He woke up two hours later, very sore and still tired. When Cullen returned at 7, Leon was still sifting through reports and referencing sources online and in the bureau's database.
"Leon, have you been here all night?" she asked him, noting the heaviness of his eyes
"Yeah," he said just as a jaw breaking yawn interrupted him. "I'm fine."
Cullen paused again, as if she was going to say something, then sat down at her desk. The two of them worked in silence for the next few hours. Finally, Leon got the forensic report on the totaled SUV that Claire shot on the freeway in his inbox. Of all the evidence that there was, this is what Leon had been waiting for.
He clicked through the first few pages of the electronic mail.
"Fingerprints...no trace." There were none on the steering wheel, dash, or anywhere else in the car. Leon clicked ahead.
"Shell casings recovered...There were only a few inside the interior. Several more were found scattered on the freeway behind it. It looked like most were picked up by the assailants. All the brand names and identification numbers were scratched off. Once again, no trace of fingerprints."
There was only a little bit of the report left. It was about the make and model of the car.
"The car was a Ford Explorer, black, with tinted windows, license plates were fake and copied. Serial identification was fake, no trace of fingerprints, no trace of DNA samples, no trace...no trace...no trace..."
"Dammit!"
Leon slammed his fist down on the synthetic material of his desk. The plastic and metal dented under the force of his hand, his desk lamp rattled. He heard Cullen jump after the bang.
"Leon!" she said, sounding surprised, apprehensive, and mad at the same time. She got out of her chair and shut the office door. Leon clasped his hand to his forehead and gripped his bangs in frustration.
"There's nothing...we have NOTHING!" he said angrily. He was seconds away from throwing his laptop to the ground in frustration. He felt Cullen's hands on his shoulders, firm yet gentle.
"Ease up," she soothed, "take it easy."
"Sorry, but I can't!" Leon said loudly. How could he take it easy at a time like this? "One of my best friends just got abducted, with me right next to her. Now, we have no idea where she is. Right now, she could be dead, or worse. And the worst thing?" Leon let go of his bangs and ran his hand down his face. His eyes felt clammy.
"That girl's brother...Chris... is going to come back from wherever the hell he is. And he's going to find out that he'll never see his sister again. All because I fucked up when I was with her..."
Cullen's hands tightened on his shoulders, almost lovingly.
"Leon, please don't be so hard on yourself. You did the best you could."
Leon really didn't want to hear the cliché motivational speech. He just stared at the dent he made in his desk, with his fist against his cheek. He wished that staring at it would somehow give him a clue to Claire's location. Cullen gently massaged his shoulders. Leon found it quite soothing.
"Just please try to relax," she said softly. "I know it looks bleak now, but please, don't give up. As soon as you do, that's when you really will lose her."
Leon sighed horribly. He agreed with her, as much as he hated to admit it. He had almost snapped. As soon as he lost it, Claire would be as good as dead. He reached up and felt her hand.
"Thanks, Allana," he said quietly, using her first name, which no one usually did. "You're right. I guess I'm just a little strung out. Sorry for lashing out like that."
She patted him on the shoulder. "No problem, I've had my share of outbursts, just ask everyone else. And don't worry, things have a way of changing. You don't know when things will take a turn." She sat back down at her desk. "Now why don't you go take a nap. You could use it."
"Thanks I will," Leon said and ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it from when he gripped it.
Leon left his office and headed to the break room. It had a decent couch in it, and catching up on some sleep wouldn't be that hard. He walked down the hall and passed the wall of mailboxes, then realized he hadn't checked his mail in a few days. Cullen wouldn't have taken anything with his name on it. He keyed it open, expecting to find several letters.
To his surprise, it was empty, save for a small square envelope. He pulled it out and relocked the mailbox, then looked at the envelope. It was almost blank. Only his name was on the front, in a long feminine cursive script. No return address, or even a sending address, just Leon Kennedy. He frowned.
"How did this even find me?" he thought. It had to have been from somewhere in the office. Otherwise, the mail screeners would have just chucked it. He opened it, expecting it to be some half assed prank.
Instead there was a folded piece of paper. He smoothed it out and read it. It was written in the same alluring, feminine script.
You can still save her. She's being held here:
1°44'41.08"S, 78° 9'1.89"W
You don't have long.
Leon was bewildered by the note. It wasn't signed with a name. Instead, there were two crimson lip prints where someone had kissed the note.
"What...the...hell?" Leon said aloud. He read it twice over again.
"'You can still save her?' Could this be...?"
Leon hardly dared to hope. The odds were impossible. There was no way, no way that this note could be about Claire. But who else could it be about? The questions began to race through Leon's head. Why had Leon received this note? Was there a traitor in the group that took Claire? Who was she? (obviously a woman). Where did the coordinates lead to? What if this was a trap?
Before Leon had even begun to think of any answers, he found himself outside Evans' office. He didn't even remember beginning to walk. Not even bothering to knock on his superior's door, he hurriedly barged in.
Evans was taking a sip from a mug. He almost spit out the contents when Leon entered.
"Kennedy, what the hell?" he asked in surprise. "I thought I always told you to-"
Leon interrupted him by slamming the note on his desk.
"Found her."