Claire awoke to the sound of gunshots, shouting, and the ground shifting forcefully beneath her body. Her head pounded, her stomach churned, but her thoughts were clearing. Her skin no longer crawled, and the strange long armed shadows had since fade from her sight. Still, something was off; try as she might to understand what was going on the more incoherent her thoughts became.
Wesker towered over her. His close proximity was unexpected, yet oddly welcomed. Claire knew not what possessed her to take his hand into her own. Her thoughts, so muddled, refused to give any clear answer. Behind his shades Albert's eyes widened in surprise. Claire knew not who was more frightened or confused by the gesture. The thought was promptly forgotten.
'Who the hell are you? And what the fuck have you done to my sister?' Disjointed sounds of Chris' voice were heard from behind Claire; immediately followed by a sudden explosion. Disjointed images flooded her sight, rendering her helpless as she watched Albert staggering back; an eruption of red spraying from the right side of his face. The ground beneath her body shook violently as a distant, yet familiar voice howled her brother's name in defiant rage. It was the same voice, though much closer to her ears, that whispered her name in apology, just as Albert Wesker's body crumpled to the ground.
'…What have you done?' The words came to her lips, but no sound was heard. The helicopter shook violently, throwing Claire's body off the makeshift cot to the bloodied steel floor.
'Hang on!' Chris yelled, as Claire bit back a cry of pain. To her right, Jill's voice was heard, instructing Sheva and him to use something; a weapon of some sort Claire assumed. She watched as they mercilessly stepped over Albert's body, to collect two rocket launchers. Confused, Claire felt a rush of panic as the memory of Chris' vicious attack on Albert years ago replayed in her mind. Crawling on the bloodied floor she approached Wesker's body. Throwing an arm over his chest, the biker became his shield of flesh.
He was not the one they sought to destroy, rather his twin. Still far from defeated, Alex Wesker had no intention of surrendering without one last fight. Through the din of exploding molten rock, and the helicopter's noisy rotors, Claire heard Sheva and Chris shouting insults at someone, or something she could not see. With a sudden flash of heat, and a tremendous quake that shook the helicopter it was over. If Alex was truly dead, Claire was the last to know. In her current state it was difficult to make sense of much. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed as she struggled to focus her sights on those around her. From the corner of her bloodshot eyes she saw Sheva, Chris, and Jill standing at the opened door of the helicopter. 'That was for our fallen brothers,' Sheva spat. With the threat averted, Claire allowed a moment to succumb to her exhaustion. Breathing a shaky sigh, the biker readily slipped into a state of unconsciousness.
With Alex out of the way Jill was quick to tend to be rid the helicopter of anything contaminated by virus. Including the now infected oily rag that used to clean up the Progenitor samples Albert had emptied onto the floor. Jill could feel Chris and Sheva's eyes watching as she fed it to the volcanic fires far below. Turning back inside, she immediately noted Claire had been thrown from her make-shift cot. Further observation revealed the biker was now using her body as a living shield; protecting Albert from further harm. A fitting gesture, she surmised, given the unexpected sacrifice made by a man known more for his atrocities, than his heroics.
Chris was quick to draw his weapon; his intent was clear as he aimed it to Wesker's still form. Jill stepped between them, but it was Sheva who gave the B.S.A.A agent pause. 'Leave him be. There's more to this than you know,' Sheva said, placing a hand on his shoulder. As expected, Chris was hardly convinced. There was just too much history between Albert and himself for the soldier's efforts to have any real effect.
'I want answers, if that was Wesker, then who the hell is this?' Chris barked. Like Jill, Sheva knew better than to play along with Chris and his furious demands.
'Chris, you need to calm down!' Sheva snapped in frustration. 'There are more pressing matters at hand than personal vendettas.' She added motioning to Claire's unconscious body. Fortunately, clearer heads prevailed, enabling Jill, with Sheva's help to lift Claire's body back onto the makeshift cot. Chris watched on dumbfounded, and uncertain, what to make of this turn of events.
'Chris, close the doors, and grab me a blanket from the first aid kit,' Jill said drawing his attentions away from Wesker's bloodied form. 'He's the least of our worries now,' she added knowing his thoughts all too well. With much reluctance, the former S.T.A.R.S. member came to his sister's aid. It took all of Jill's willpower to bite back a sardonic remark.
'Now is not the time for vengeance Chris. Your sister needs you, and so do we,' Sheva said, collecting the blanket from Chris' hands. Jill gathered Albert's black leather coat that now lay in a heap on the steel floor. At one time, it had been Claire's means of warmth. Though tempted to return it to her, Jill hesitated. She felt Chris' hand grab at her wrist, and knew her decision had been sound.
'What are you doing?' Chris question was more a demand. Jill gave no reply, it was not necessary. Again Sheva interceded with a grace and skill that came only with much experience.
'Chris, would you please sit down, and let us explain?' Sheva spoke in gentle tones, as though trying to calm a dangerous animal. When he did not readily respond she took to removing his weapons. To Jill's immense surprise Chris did not resist.
'Just what the hell is going on?' Chris demanded as the last of his guns were confiscated. Sheva frowned but spoke no further. She, like Jill, had no patience for the man's petulant behaviour.
'Just relax already. You won't be doing us any favours by losing your temper,' Jill added with a heavy sigh. To everyone's relief Chris finally sat hard in a steel chair; his fingers fumbling for a cigarette. The last time Jill seen her partner light up had been after their first encounter with the Spencer Mansion. There was no need to ask when, or what, had driven him to return to the habit.
Taking a seat across from her old partner, Jill was joined by Sheva who watched on in silence; her fingers deftly detaching, and put together parts of her handgun. 'Start talking.' Chris had never been a man of many words, but then neither was Jill. Chris scowled at their silence, his eyes flickering between Sheva, herself, and Wesker's body that remained sprawled on the steel floor. Taking a long drag of his cigarette the soldier waited answers Jill knew he would not readily accept.
'The man's dead. What more do you need Chris?' Jill began motioning Wesker's still body. Chris was hardly convinced. Albert Wesker was just too resilient, and too powerful to be put down with a single bullet to the head. Yet even with the virus coursing through her veins, the former thief picked up no life signs from Wesker's body.
'Don't play games with me Jill!' Chris warned. 'You know as well as I do, that son of a bitch never dies, he always comes back…He always finds a way!' She could hear the rage in his voice, and see the panic in his eyes, as he pressed on.
'First we saw that Tyrant gut him before our very own eyes. Then there was the destruction Spencer's mansion! What man, infected or not could have survived that? But somehow he did! Then there was the time I fought him in Antarctica! I was certain…certain there was no way he could escaped the destruction of that Umbrella base. Yet somehow he did just that! Never mind the fact he survived a drop that was hundreds of feet up! So don't tell me that one single headshot is enough!' Chris shouted.
'Chris, the question here is not whether or not this man can be killed in a single shot. Rather who was this man? And what was his relation, if any, to the mad man we just took down? If he is an innocent than…'
In another time, another place Jill would have applauded Sheva for her efforts. The truth may have been a double-edged sword, but when it came to Chris sometimes it was just better to just lie. Jill felt a tinge of relief at the sight of Chris lowering his gun. Alomar may have been young, but she was a quick learner. 'All that matters is that we have successfully completed our mission. Let our superiors deal with the body and its inevitable identity,' Sheva intoned.
'Sheva's right. It's over now, Chris. Wesker's dead, and the Uroboros virus has been disposed of, our mission here is complete. Anything else, is beyond our paygrade, even you know that,' Jill added, moving to take a seat by his side. Slipping her fingers into Chris' hand she gave him a reassuring squeeze. 'We're soldiers. We've done our duty, now let's go home.' It was not the words he wanted to hear but Jill knew he would not pursue the issue further. For all his bluster, Chris was a man who knew his limits.
With a heavy sigh, Chris glanced to the still body that had once been his nemesis. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, the soldier muttered a curse under his breath. 'It just doesn't make any sense. If that was indeed the real Wesker that we fought, then who did I just shoot, another of Spencer's test subjects? Was it clones that he was producing?' His conclusion, was closer to the truth than Jill suspected even he knew.
'Whatever or whomever he was, he did save your sister's life,' Jill concluded. Chris fell silent, but the turmoil in his eyes was plain for both women to see.
'Just a head's up, we're nearing the landing pad,' Josh's called out to them from the cockpit. Jill was thankful for the interruption of an otherwise awkward conversation. Looking to Sheva and Chris she could see that they too felt the same way. To her relief, no one spoke further on the matter, as they secured Claire in her makeshift cot in preparation for the helicopter's landing.
Claire awoke to the stifling weight of blankets covering her body, and a pungent scent of antiseptic in the air. Dreams of an unquenchable fire, shadows with distorted limbs, and the hollow echo of bullets dancing against a steel floor echoed in her waking thoughts. However, the inferno once felt beneath her skin, and the heavy tar that seemed to fill her veins, had become little more than a terrifying memory. In the recesses of her mind she could almost envision the strange figures with elongated limbs that spoke in the voices of her allies and friends. Lost to her memories Claire could still hear the explosion of cannons, or was it gun fire? Just as the imagined stench of brimstone burning her throat causes her to choke. Desperate for a breath of clean air Claire claws at the mask over her mouth. Tearing it off, she gasps in shock, her thoughts forced back to the present with the sharp twang of the mask's rubber band snapping against her skin.
Stunned, Claire stares at the polished white walls in confusion and disbelief. As the soft chirp, bleeps, and pings of machine's monitoring her vitals continue uninterrupted. Last she recalled she had been on a tanker, in a tiny lab filled with plants that was Uroboros key ingredient. Albert had been there, as were Excella Gionne and Alex Wesker. Without realizing her fingers flutter to where the poisoned needle had been firmly lodged in her throat. As expected, there was nothing to be found, save a tenderness of flesh, and a lifetime of nightmares.
'How did I get here?' Claire asked the silence around her. Her voice sounded strange to her ears; cracked, weakened, and raspy from lack of use. From the corner of her eyes she could see the sleeping form of her brother Chris. With arms folded, brows knitted, and a deep frown on his mouth, he softly snored. A rush of fear gripped her to the sight. As much as she loved her brother, he was the last person she wanted to see. He was certain to have many questions, the sort with answers Claire was certain he would not wish to hear.
Burying the troubling thought, Claire took a quick glance around her room. Noting the machines that surrounded her bed, as well as the tube that fed blood into her arm, she could only surmise that she was no longer infected. More uncertain was to whom she owed her life.
'Let your brother play the hero. He is, after all, quite good at it.' There was little she recalled after being infected, as all that followed seemed to play out like some sort of strange dream, or nightmare. Albert's unexpected statement however, was not easily forgotten. Was it even real? She could not ignore that it was entirely out of character for the former Umbrella agent. Ever since the fateful night Albert broke into her apartment, Claire could no longer be certain what was true to his character. She suspected even Wesker, was no longer entirely confident in his person.
The soft creak of the door opening woke Chris with a start. With his attention entirely on the door the soldier instinctively reached for a weapon he did not carry. If he was aware of his younger sister being conscious it did not show. Noting Jill's entrance Claire decided it would be best to take advantage of her brother's distraction. Shutting her eyes, the biker pretended to remain asleep. She knew better than to believe the former thief had been fooled. Fortunately, she chose not to give her up. Instead, Jill gently encouraged Chris to return home for the night, with the promise that should Claire's condition change he would be the first to know. Ever stubborn, an exhausted Chris attempted to resist Jill's charm. It was a futile fight, Claire knew Jill could be as stubborn, if not more so than her brother when she put her mind to it. At any other time she might have been touched by her Chris need to protect her. In truth, Claire suspected her brother's need to remain was out of a need to ensure his arch nemesis would not return.
Nothing was ever clear when it came to Albert Wesker. Even her last memory of him had been a strange; his barely audible whisper of her name, the acrid stench of gun powder, and horrific montage of blood spraying the helicopter's ceiling and walls. Yet there was no satisfaction felt to the memory, only a sense of concern. For all his mockery and supposed indifference, Albert's actions had spoken volumes. His motives may have been questionable at best, but in the end he had risked his life to ensure her escape. It made her all the more aware of the former Umbrella agent's absence. Surely he was not dead. The thought was just too absurd to even consider. Albert Wesker was not a man who could be stopped by a single head shot; even at point blank. Which begged the question how did he manage to escape her brother, or the B.S.A.A. for that matter?
'You can relax now Claire, he's gone home.' Jill said, drawing her back to the present. Opening her eyes Claire watched as Jill took a seat at the edge of the bed. The former thief's every movement felt carefully calculated. There was no doubt that she was talking to Jill Valentine, the B.S.A.A. operative, not Jill, her friend. 'I don't imagine you have many memories about our confrontation with Alex,' Jill began. Claire shook her head in silence.
If you want to remain one step ahead of your enemies, you must keep them guessing. The less they know, the better. The memory of Albert's words to her came with such clarity that Claire instinctively glanced to her side, as though expecting him to be there.
'Claire? Something wrong?' Jill asked. The biker could feel her eyes boring into her, as if trying to read her true thoughts.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Claire played every bit the exhausted patient, which was not too far from the truth. 'It's nothing, just thought I heard a noise that's all.' To her immense relief, Jill did not press the matter further.
The silence between them was heavy, weighed down with questions neither wanted to ask, and answers neither wanted to hear. Yet something had to be said, so Claire spoke. 'Was the mission a success?' The answer was obvious, but the topic was safe.
'Alex was stopped before he could unleash the Uroboros. The virus was disposed of when the plane crashed on the volcano,' Jill explained, lifting a weight from Claire's mind. Despite having already known the answer it did her heart good to hear her friend confirm it.
Before she could respond, Jill continued in voice so quiet, that it was a struggle to hear her words. 'He saved your life.' It was an unexpected answer to a question Claire did not dare to ask.
'I know.'
Frowning, Jill shook her head clearly troubled by more than just Claire's placid acceptance of her words. 'But why? Wesker never does anything without an ulterior motive. So what role do you serve in his plans?' Straight to the point, it was no wonder she got along so well with Chris.
'Where is he now?' Claire asked, ignoring both Jill's questions and her obvious concern. There was no real answer to give; none that she would understand, much less accept.
'He's alive. Alive, and faraway from anyone he could harm,' Jill replied. After a moment's hesitation, the B.S.A.A. soldier rose to her feet, declaring that she needed a cup a coffee. Only after Jill's departure did Claire realize she had been left with more questions than answers.
If Albert Wesker was alive, it would only be a matter of time before everyone, Chris included, would know truth.
Author's Note: My apologies to all my readers who found this chapter to be completely muddled up. For some reason something went terribly wrong when I tried to upload this file to the site. Hopefully copy/paste has not failed me here too *blushes*