Part Two: The Bitch in the Red Dress
The game changes.
The sword of justice is swift.
The taste of surrender begins to drown them both.
Edinburgh. Scotland -2007
The pound of her feet was lost in the bustle of the crowd. Heart racing, palms sweating, she ducked left under the over hang of the flamboyantly colored tent beside her and pushed into the bustling crowd. The festival might be the death of her as easily as the savior.
Ada slid among the bodies twirling and laughing and celebrating. She ducked and avoided drawing attention as fireworks lit the dark in bursts of color. The case tethered to the outside of her thigh beneath the bell skirt she wore seemed heavy somehow.
Her left hand clutched at the blood on her arm beneath the shiny red sleeve of her costume. She was a harlequin, as were many others in the bustling crowd, but she was probably the only one with a bullet in her skin. She was a limping a little on one side from her twisted ankle as well.
But she had the T-Avian sample in her possession.
Doctor Demarliere had somehow managed to mutate the The Abyss virus to make it aerial. What had corrupted those cruise liners was now in the skies. She'd seen the horror in the tanks in the lab. Birds perverted into demons. Bats made into monsters. Bees birthed out of nightmares filled with claws and teeth and death. She collected the sample...and set the timer on the lab to blow it sky high.
Her betrayal of Wesker over giving him the wrong plagas sample had burned her bridge to the 3rd Organization. As it stood, she was freelance. Cut loose from the ties to a great master, she was able to maneuver,almost undetected, in the underbelly of a world ripe with conspiracy. Eventually, she'd have to tie herself again to a cause at least for funding toward her end game - but for now, she was a spy operating in secret in possession of the only known sample of the next wave of bio-warfare.
Security had conducted a routine sweep an hour earlier than planned. They'd caught her exiting the lab. To lead them away and limit the fallout, she'd let them chase her over the long hallway in the church proper toward the festival. One of the trigger happy assholes had winged her in an attempt to validate his life as a rent-a-cop. The bullet had made an annoying stop over in her upper left biceps.
The bleeding was bad. She was partially afraid he'd nicked the brachial artery. Ada staggered through the crowd, slid around a tent selling fragrant teas laced with liquor, and slid to one knee in the dirt. She jerked up her sleeve, scrambled a hand toward her skirt and tore a piece of shiny cloth off it. Using her teeth, she bound the bleeding wound as tightly as possible. If it was arterial, the damage would lose her the goddamn arm if she didn't get the bullet out. Left untreated long enough, the wound would eventually kill her.
Gaining her feet, a little light headed, Ada shook it off and ran across the damp grass toward the far side of the church grounds. The laughter and revelry kept the eyes of all the people behind her. They watched the skies, they danced and played, they had no idea that a hundred yards away a madman was creating a virus capable of global extinction.
Jesus.
There was a shout as one of the security team spotted her. She limped and ran for the farthest end of the dark courtyard. She heard them running after her. Some idiot popped off another shot and it kicked up dirt in a muddy spray near her left foot. Fools. For all they knew, she was a scientist who'd simply ducked into that lab to look at data. If they'd have not turned aggressive the moment they'd spotted her, she'd have produced fake identification to clear her from any suspiscioun,. Instead, they'd immediately turned hostile. Trying to kill her was juvenile, amateur, and stupid.
The next shot hit the heavy column beside her as she ducked around it. It sprayed stone as Ada raced for the opening in the archway, lifted her grapple gun, and hit the trigger. She went up, the men shouted in surprise, and one fired wildly into the dark after her.
On the roof, Ada stumbled toward the west side, hit the trigger again, and zipped out over the parking lot. As she came down, her ankle gave out and spilled her to her knees. A bullet hit the quarter panel of the car she was beside and threw sparks.
If she hadn't have gone down, she'd have met her maker in that moment. Her bad ankle had saved her life. Rolling around the car, Ada hit the button on her detonator. Enough was enough, she was done playing hide and seek with rent-a-cops.
The explosion was so loud it was deafening. It met the noise of the fireworks and blended. While the security guards shouted and ran back toward the blazing fire, Ada slipped into her non-descript sedan and drove out to the road unnoticed. She left the world on fire behind her, and didn't look back.
Aberdeen, Scotland - 2007
The little stone house was no bigger than several hundred feet. It was on the waters edge and quaintly tucked back away from a road that rarely saw visitors. Nevertheless, she cleared it as she entered, stumbling forward toward the kitchen.
Her numb fingers knocked over things on the tiny counter before she gripped a bottle of whiskey and jerked the cork out of it with her teeth. She dumped the hearty liquid over her arm, hissed, and took a long swig on the bottle to fortify herself. Her left arm was tingling and going numb. She was running out of time.
Some lucky shot by a stupid fool would be the death of her.
Her fingers grabbed for the cutlery drawer. She dragged out a steak knife and a spoon. The door to her cottage shivered and Ada flipped the knife in her hand and launched as it opened.
The blade struck the door a half an inch from Leon's left eye.
He froze, brows arched, "...you missed."
Ada slumped against the counter, "...no I didn't. It was a warning."
He closed the door behind him, secured the bolt, and moved toward her, "Stupid to leave yourself exposed like that, Ada."
"...save me the fucking lecture, boy scout, and get over here."
He did, swiftly catching her under the armpits as she swayed forward. He lifted her and set her on the counter with a curt, "Lift your right hand and grab the cabinet."
Ada gave him a narrow look and he added, "Support yourself and let me do this. Unless you want me to sever the whole arm and be done with it."
Her hand curled over the cabinet pull and held. She jerked as he tore her sleeve up to the shoulder. Swaying, Ada watched the wall blur and turn pink and gold. Great, she was starting to black out.
There was a sharp pain that made her gasp as Leon widened the wound in her arm to be able to get his fingers into her and retract the bullet. She watched his profile and mused, slurring a little, "Last time you had your fingers in me, I felt like this too."
The bullet pinged into the sink as she dropped it and wrapped a heavy dish towel around the room to put pressure on the wound. "...how's that?"
Her lips slid against the side of his face. Leon turned his head enough that she spoke against his mouth, "...dizzy."
Apparently, an Ada weak and lethargic was a slightly more romantic soul. Amused, his eyes sparkled, "Oh, yeah? Feel good?"
She grinned a little, "I don't know...put your fingers in me again and let me compare."
His free hand skimmed up her leg, danced against the bare skin above the thigh high, and dipped under the edge of her panties. Honestly? Arousing her couldn't hurt. It would keep her awake when she might otherwise pass out.
So he obliged her and slid two fingers into her body. Her eyes flared. The dilated look in them went from lethargy to arousal. She moaned and opened her mouth to let him kiss her. Her eyes shut, his stayed open watching her as she spread her legs a little wider for him.
It was always a rare thing to see her this exposed. Wounded, weak, and willing - she didn't resist. He tested her by murmuring against her mouth, "Can I have you now, Ada? Have I earned you?"
She moaned and shook her head: no. Amused, he stopped fingering her when he felt her body start clenching. He didn't want her to cum, that would push her further toward shutting down. So he left her aroused and throbbing.
Her eyes snapped open and she hissed, "...who's the tease now?"
His teeth flashed wolfishly as he held pressure on her wounded arm, "I'm willing enough. You want me to fuck you? I couldn't last time, but I don't really get off on fucking girls that are half dead like you do."
Her legs hooked around his ass and jerked. He spilled against her as the hand holding the cabinet above her let go, shot out, and grabbed his throat. She snarled, "Half dead or not, I'm still better than you'll ever be."
In the semi-darkness, she could see he was strapped into a heavy tactical vest and fatigues. The thick leather coat he wore was left unzipped and allowed easy access to the huge knife strapped down his chest.
He watched her glance at his knife and back at his face. So he teased, "Wanna risk it? Grab for it, and we'll find out."
"You like when I grab for it, remember?" Although when she shifted, she couldn't feel that he was erect behind those pants he wore. So he was just playing with her for the sake of it. Bastard.
She tilted her head at him as he grinned in return, "...why are you here, Leon? You stalking me?"
Testing her, he pressed his mouth against hers. She returned it, a smooth touch of lips. The fishnet thigh highs she wore, the knee high boots, the sparkling costume in red, white, and black...she looked like a dirty perverts idea of a court jester or something. Tracking her hadn't been easy.
The first call had told him that there was an asset of his on the move in Kandahar. He'd hopped a plane to find out she'd already cleaned up any usable intel through the back channels of a black market sale of the missing T-Abyss virus. Thanks to the missing traitor Sherawat, there were samples in play that should have been destroyed after the outbreak aboard the Queen Zenobia.
Sadly, Sherawat had gone into the wind and not popped back up again. Finding her was like looking for a needle in a stack of needles. The only lead he'd had was a dealer named Matanbo out of Kandahar. The guy was willing to trade intel for a clean slate. He'd been first on Leon's asset list following what happened in Spain. Matanbo had a tendency to pop up there when he was most needed.
The vest Leon wore was the one he'd acquired from Mantanbo. It was the best quality tactical vest he'd ever owned. He'd traded it in Spain for am empty 9mm. A fair trade. It had saved his life more than once there.
Matanbo had proved to be a valuable asset. He sold to both sides, indiscriminately, and relayed intel when it suited him. Keeping him in play had netted them more one potential terrorist looking to acquire or sell weapons. Matanbo's intel alone had stopped the black market sale of two nukes stolen from a Russian depot in Moscow. They'd barely made it across the border into Syria before they'd been hijacked by the US government.
Crisis averted. That intel had made sure Matanbo received protection. The moment he popped up as having witnessed a sample of Abyss being sold, he'd relayed the information. Ada had scored the T-Abyss before he could get there.
What was worse? The rumors started about a man using another sample to create an aerial version. Matanbo had given him the name of three potential mules in Europe that might have made the sale.
By the time they found the right one who'd dealt to the Doctor at the University in Edinburgh, the damage was long done. The lab was in flames. The sample was gone...and then?
Ada Wong had made a single mistake.
Just one. Just a tiny one.
He'd found a smear of blood on a car in the parking lot. It was nothing. It might have been from anyone cutting their leg or something. But the drip pattern suggested it had fallen from above.
And the guards were jabbering on about how they'd "stopped an intruder". So Leon, curious, had asked, "You shoot them?"
Proud of himself, the fattest guard had vowed, "I did. I got her."
Her.
HER.
Spidey senses tingling, Leon had prodded, "Her? What did she look like?"
The skinny guard had replied, "Pretty. Tall. Hard to see her under the make up...but her wig slipped. I think she had black hair."
Without another word, Leon had scooped the blood on the car onto a swab and walked away from the police while they continued to question the guards. A quick test had been an easy answer. Ada.
Her blood didn't pop as Ada in the system. It came up Jane Doe, but it had her suspected terrorists acts on it and a slew of aliases for her.
After that, it was a matter of digging through cash rentals in the area. A generous pass of cash to the palm of a shopkeeper in town had told him a pretty Asian woman had rented his house on the shore for a week.
Without another word, he'd set out for Aberdeen. He wondered if he'd gotten here any later, if she'd have died on the floor.
Ada tried to kiss him again, pale and somehow still beautiful beneath all the glittery face paint, and he told her, "I need to stitch the wound, Ada, so we can bind it and let it heal. Do you have anything?"
Dizzy, she answered, "...bag. In the car - the bag in the car."
"Got it. Come here." He picked her up in his arms like she wasn't muscle and carried her over to lay her on the soft old couch in the small living area. She watched him lay a fire without any real effort, felt the heat off of it, and sighed as he disappeared outside.
She was almost asleep when the pain hit her broadside. She came awake shouting, but he'd tied her hands together and bound them to couch arm to keep her still. Surprised, Ada gasped, "...enjoying this, are you? Hurting me and holding me hostage?"
Leon rolled his eyes as he kept on stitching the inner layer of her skin closed, "Don't move, please. You'll make this harder than it needs to be."
Relenting, Ada whispered, "...is there any other way?"
The stabbing pain at least kept her alert as she watched the flicker of flames in the fireplace. It was toasty warm in the little cottage by the sea. She could hear the crush and slap of waves on the rocks beyond the thin windows. To his surprise, she spoke first into the silence, "...why are you here, Leon?"
He snapped off the end of his stitch and started binding the arm. She was watching him now with her arms above her head secured. With a shrug, he admitted, "We're always asking each other that, aren't we? I was tracking the same sample. You got there first."
Shit.
Shit.
She jerked on her arms as he secured the bandage, "You bastard...where is it?"
His eyes were ice blue in the firelight. He managed to look innocent, but was guilty as hell. "What are you talking about?"
Ada jerked on her arms, "Don't you dare-I mean it, Leon. Where's my fucking sample?"
He said nothing. He stepped back from her. The sample case was gone from her thigh, damn him. DAMN HIM. She tugged on her hands once more. "Don't be stupid, Leon."
He paused by the door, watching her bound on the couch. Ada gave him a filthy look and finally intoned, "Come on...we can work this out. Let me synthesize it, like before. That's fair, right?"
Fair. He wasn't sure she knew what fair was. Her breasts were making a platter of something he wanted to taste in that stupid slutty costume she was wearing. She was always torturing him and running away. He just wanted to fuck her, hard, and be done with it. Would it purge his system of her?
Or would it just make him even more of an addict? Fair. There was no fair when it came to Ada Wong.
He licked his teeth, jingled his keys in his pocket, and finally came back toward the couch. Relieved, Ada shifted until she was sitting up with her feet on the floor. "Thank you. Untie me. It'll just take a minute and then you can go."
She should tell him about Simmons. She should mention the side he was playing on was dirty, but would he believe her? She wasn't his most trusted adviser here. She was a woman who systemically tried to outwit, out run, and out play him.
He set the little case on the table. Further relieved, Ada responded, "...thank you for not making this difficult."
It was interesting to feel a surge of guilt at how simple he was being. No nefarious double cross here, just a guy who trusted her. It was the first time she felt a little bad for using him.
Leon slid his jacket off his arms and tugged the knife from his vest. He tossed the jacket on the couch to the side of her and brought the knife toward her. She angled her wrists up at him with a good amount of respect, "...you're humbling me a little here. Do you have anything to say?"
The knife touched her bonds. He studied her face. She felt a flutter of panic at the calm expression on him and she warned, "...don't."
His brow arched. He gruffed, "Don't what?"
"Don't be stupid. Cut me loose."
And he responded, "You're a little tied up at the moment, Ada. Sorry I didn't have any fur lined cuffs."
Shit.
She almost swallowed her tongue when he slid the point of the blade down her costume. It made scratching sound and had her mouth going dry. She didn't even have the words when the knife slid against the crinoline of her skirts. Shaking her head, she said, "...you're making a mistake."
Oh, he had no doubt about that. He'd made it years ago when he left her alive on that platform, but he wasn't making it now. The knife split the skirt with a sigh of giving fabric. The rough material fell out to the sides, cleaved in half. She felt her breath hitch as the knife slid under the soft black lace of her panties.
The look on his face made her pulse speed. She didn't even protest as he jerked the knife and the panties ripped down the middle. Her hips jerked. Her arms shivered.
Tilting his head, he asked, "What? No more warnings? Say no. Just one word - say no. I'll stop."
She had no doubt. He was just that guy. He wouldn't force her and he knew her well enough to know that this behavior would intrigue her. So, Ada held his gaze and answered, lips dry, "Your move, handsome. What now? How far you wanna take this to prove you've got me at your mercy?"
Leon grinned, "You think I'm playing?"
And she laughed, "I think we're always playing. What's your game? You wanna trade a good old fashioned fuck for the sample?"
He made her jump as he thrust the knife in his hand into the couch cushion beside her head. She felt a real flash of fear that worked like an aphrodisiac. It made her head spin more than the blood loss had. He could kill her.
He could fuck her.
He could leave her there exposed.
A powerful game.
The split panties clung to her thighs, black above black fish net stockings. Black above red boots. Black like a frame around the most vulnerable part of her. Exposed. She was, in this moment, completely exposed to him. She resisted the urge to close her legs. She left them parted for him to see her.
The tables turned sometimes in the most tempting of ways.
Softly, she taunted, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
How far would she go to get the sample back? Those days of fucking for the job were long over, but this wasn't job. It was personal. He was damn sure making it clear that it was his turn to hold the power over her.
Was it that simple? Was he just looking to prove he could win against her?
Unable to read him, Ada finally said, "What do you want here, Leon? What are you doing?"
Without a word, he settled on the floor at her feet. She couldn't even find a single word of protest as he shifted her legs over his shoulders and put his mouth on her. If he'd stabbed her to death with the knife beside her, it wouldn't have been more shocking.
Ada gasped, she humped toward his face, and her thighs quivered. Maybe she'd known all along that's what he wanted. Maybe it was a clever ploy on his part to force some of her possession back on her.
His tongue struck as swift and talented as any other part of him. His hands slid up her belly, caught the ragged edges of the costume she wore and jerked, splitting it to the collar. She pulled against her bonds, watching his face between her legs as he sucked, slid, and savored her. He watched her body for signs, he listened to her noises, he angled his mouth to hum and help himself to her flavor.
The orgasm built as his hands skimmed up and palmed her breasts over the pretty bra she wore. When his eager mouth found her clit and started sucking, Ada felt her lips open a high pitched keen. He wasn't gentle. He pushed against her body with his mouth, licking, thrusting her legs higher on his shoulders, curling her body back as he feasted. Ada tried to buck against his face and she was too held down, too restricted. Instead, she let the pleasure cover her.
Why not? He was good at it. He used it like a weapon, and the slice of need left her gyrating against his eager mouth. Her body vibrated right at the edge of orgasm. She gasped, desperately, racing toward her own release.
When her thighs tightened and her body seized, his teeth bit gently at her swollen lips. The cry she released was loud against the crackling dark. It felt like he'd shot electric pleasure into her body and shocked her into a coma.
She came wetly against his face, cursing, rubbing her slick heat all over his sucking mouth. Dirty. Nothing pretty or sweet about it. He let her flop back against the couch. His arms forced her legs up obscenely as he rolled up her body with her still open before him. He jerked up her bra to smear the slickness of her all over her breasts as he helped himself to them and made her squirm and tremble. He wasn't easy there either. He nipped and sucked and suckled with enough teeth to make her start panting.
Her legs were draped uselessly over his elbows.
Ada watched him mound her breasts together and bury his face there, inhaling her. Voice hoarse, she whispered, "Cut me loose, Leon. Hurry."
He lifted his head, shrewdly watching her in the firelight with the taste of her still on his lips, and sucked her nipple into his mouth while he watched her face. Ada quivered as he let it slide out of his mouth and rasped, "Why?"
He leaned toward her. She arched her neck. They kissed and shared the flavor of her release between them. She watched him shiver with it and cooed, "So I can return the favor."
"Yeah?" He let her legs drop and frame his hips. His pants were cool and rough on her swollen lips. He was fully erect behind that zipper now, she thought with a tremble in her belly. Ready to go. He rubbed himself on her lewdly, "You want me to fuck you?"
Clever, clever boy. She felt her eyes twinkle with the thrill of the hunt. "No. I want you to put your dick in my mouth."
Amused, he leaned back. "Some other time."
Her legs landed on the couch. Her breasts trembled and bounced as she landed there.
Brows arched, Ada shivered on the couch, "You're denying me?" Her tone was somehow amused and insulted at the same time.
He laughed and tapped the box, "Not entirely. Maybe it's time you earned me instead. See ya round, gorgeous."
He tugged the knife from the pillow. She sat in utter surprise as he simply left her bound to the couch and walked out the door. He helped her, tongue fucked her, dumped enormous pleasure all over her...and just left?
After a moment of twisting, the bonds on her hands wouldn't give. She almost cursed him but her fingers touched something in the pillow above her bound wrists. She gingerly tugged the little scissors he'd left there. A single snip freed her hands.
She reached for the case on the table, smirking. What game was he playing now? Touching her, teasing her, tempting her...and running away. That was her game. She was fascinated to know she enjoyed the return of it.
Right up to the point that she opened the case and found it empty. The little note inside said: Sonja Nadahn. Your move. Sonja Nadahn was the regional head of the Pharmacom pharmaceutical company. They were heavily invested in the creation of vaccines and curatives for bioterror events. She'd come out openly against WilPharma during the scandal involving the T-Virus vaccine.
What was he saying? She was dirty?...or was he saying that's where the sample was going? What was this? A dare?
Aloud, she laughed, "...bastard. You fucking bastard."
Ada rolled to get her phone and found it missing. The flare of surprise and pleasure was sharp and layered in irritation. Beaten at her own fucking game because of a bullet in the arm.
Insulting.
He'd shown up, helped her, fucked her all up with pleasure, stolen her goodies, and lied to her face. Slippery little shit. He wasn't just a boy in Raccoon City anymore. She fingered the little note in the box and shook her head on a dry chuckle.
The student was swiftly becoming the teacher.