Disclaimer: CAPCOM owns Resident Evil. I own my OC. Savvy?
"Can I ask you something mom?"
"Sure sweetheart."
"How did you meet dad?"
"Hm? Oh, it was a funny story, you see," her mother smiled softly, placing her knitting down in her lap for a moment and looking over at her daughter sitting by the fireplace. "He was the first man to ever best me in hand to hand combat when he joined the Unit."
Alma snorted in a very unladylike manner, rolling her eyes as she lifted her cup of cocoa to her lips. "Yeah, that sounds quite romantic."
"You'll understand when you're older, dear."
"I doubt it."
To say that Alma awoke with the feeling that something wasn't quite right was a gross understatement. A pitiful groan forced its way from her cracked and dry lips when she finally came to.
She was lying on her back though rather than resting on unyielding rock the surface was soft and pliable. Moving as much as she dared Alma pressed her fingertips gently into the surface, feeling it give way under her touch. She couldn't feel a breeze, only warmth and when she finally mustered the strength to open her eyes realized she was in a hospital room.
"What?" she croaked out, wincing at the hoarseness of her voice as she rolled her eyes to the right to land on a figure sitting beside her.
"You're infallible luck never ceases to amaze me, Alma," the man spoke, voice deep and commanding yet kind.
"Morris-?"
"Yeah kid, it's me," he glanced over the newspaper he was reading with a wry smile. "You took quite a nasty tumble, didn't you?"
She moved to sit up, unable to keep from gasping when a sharp pain flooded through her left side. It made her vision swim violently and she was forced to lie back again to avoid becoming sick. Reaching up with shaky fingers she felt her short nails catch on the dressings around her head.
"Indeed I did," she rasped, shutting her eyes tightly when bright specks began appearing in her line of sight.
"Do you want some water?"
"Please. And some pain medicine." She sat up gingerly, taking slow shallow breaths to avoid being sick.
"The nurse already gave you a shot of Toradol shortly before you woke up so you can't have any more for a bit," Morris said, pouring her a cup of water and handing it to her. She folded her hands around it carefully, trying to ignore the way they were shaking slightly. He stood from her bedside, making his way to the door and dimming the lights.
"Nothing is broken but you are pretty beaten up, your head took the worst of the damage. I must say you are lucky to be alive."
"Nine lives baby," she muttered sarcastically, taking small sips of water.
"Do you want something to eat? I can order you something from the sandwich shop down the street if you want."
"Cut the bullshit Morris," she finally said, easing her eyes open to narrow slits of gray. "What happened to Ashley?"
He fell silent, not meeting her gaze for a moment and her heart plummeted into her stomach. "What do you remember?"
Alma swallowed thickly, turning her eyes towards the ceiling. "I remember driving down 769. There was a vehicle behind us for about half a mile before it vanished. I hit a spike strip and blew out the front right tire. When I went to inspect it some man, military if I had to guess, attacked us. I was thrown against the roadside barrier and almost knocked out. He grabbed Ashley and took off. When I got my bearings I went for the car but he must've laid some remote detonation device down because there was an explosion. I remember going over the side and falling but it's all blank after that."
Morris frowned, standing at parade rest at the foot of her bed. "Ashley Graham was abducted while in your care."
"I know."
"Do you have any idea who took her?"
"I don't." Her throat tightened in that annoying way that told her she was moments from crying in front of her superior.
"Thomas Graham has been informed, as has the rest of the Secret Service. We have Intelligence Officers working around the clock to try to figure out what happened."
"Will I be part of the investigation after interrogation?"
"Depends on what Graham wants to do. For all we know he'll have you blacklisted from the US and thrown into Guantanamo Bay until she's found."
"I already feel bad enough about what happened," she snapped, wincing when her head throbbed painfully.
"Sorry, but you know how it goes. Speaking of which, your interrogation will be held when you are released from the hospital. Doctor's giving you a few more days' bed rest before that'll happen. I don't need to remind you that you are under constant surveillance."
"You're right. You don't," Alma replied quietly, hearing him sigh.
"I'm not the enemy here, Alma," Morris said, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I'm trying to help you."
"I know. I just-," she trailed off, shutting her eyes when tears began welling in them. "I'm so pissed at myself." Morris remained silent for a minute before standing.
"I'll go get you something to eat. You need to rest. The next few weeks are going to be hard on all of us, especially you."
"Whatever," Alma whispered, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. He reached over as though he was about to touch her shoulder before drawing back.
"Turkey and cheddar?"
"Nothing better," she finished with a tight-lipped smile.
"You'll make it through this Ngyuen."
"I hope so."
After spending a little over twenty-two hours with a member of the CIA it was determined she hadn't been involved in Ashley's abduction and she was allowed to sit in on meetings with Central Intelligence.
Three weeks had passed before they got anything remotely resembling a lead and even then they were grasping at straws. Alma had been sitting in on a meeting with a few other government agents when a forensic scientist came forth with an interesting theory.
"What do you know about a company named ADC?" he had asked the group, producing mostly silence from those assembled until the man sitting across from Alma spoke up.
"ADC? Isn't that some weapon manufacturing company?" the agent asked. Alma glanced up at him from her folder. It was the first time he had spoken since he had arrived (ten minutes late but never mind that). All Alma knew about him was his name, Agent Kennedy, and that the man looked damn good in his Armani suit (but never mind that as well).
"It's short for Ares Defense Corporation, isn't it? They're based in the Greek Isles, ironically enough," Alma said, shuffling through the papers the scientist had given them upon his arrival.
"Why are you bringing this up, Johnson?" Morris asked.
"Because I have a theory," he stated, producing a sealed plastic bag from his business case and passing it to the man on his right. "This is the remains of the stun grenade that had been used during the attack. I have a contact who works for ADC that was able to confirm this is indeed one of their products."
"Your point?"
"ADC doesn't supply weapons to the United States or anywhere close to us. Their top buyers are European countries, most notably Spain."
"What are you saying?" Kennedy asked. "You think Ashley Graham is over in Europe somewhere?"
"It's possible. It could also just be happenstance but with how the investigation has gone so far I figure better a fool's hope than none at all," Johnson replied, waiting for the agents present to finish examining the evidence before returning it to him.
"How reliable is your contact?" Alma asked. Johnson smiled nervously, fussing with his tie for a moment.
As soon as he opened his mouth to reply the door to the boardroom swung open abruptly and an NSA Operative by the name of Richard Hammond strolled in.
"Kennedy. Ngyuen. Come with me," he pointed at both agents before turning sharply on his heel and exiting the room. She and Leon exchanged confused looks before gathering their paperwork and following suit.
"What's going on Hammond?" Leon asked as the older man led them down a confusing maze of halls in the Pentagon before reaching another meeting room.
"President Graham wants to speak with the two of you. The video conference will begin in two minutes," Hammond stated frostily. "Your mission directives are on the table."
"Mission directives-?" Alma echoed in confusion though he said nothing more on the subject and instead left them to their own devices.
"Still vague as ever," Leon muttered, rolling his eyes before opening the door and gesturing for Alma to pass through it first.
They seated themselves at a long table facing the television on the wall. A few seconds later the screen went white before the tired face of Thomas Graham appeared.
"Sir," they said in unison, rising to salute him though he waved his hand dismissively.
"Have a seat you two," he sighed, resting his elbows on his desk and looking at them pensively. "Have you had a chance to go over your directives?"
"No sir, we just received them not even a minute ago," Alma said, ducking her head when he looked her way.
"Hammond said they were mission directives. Are we being sent somewhere?" Leon asked.
"You are," a voice came from the laptop sitting below the television and the face of a man appeared on the screen a few seconds later. "My name is Derek Simmons. National Security Advisor to President Graham."
"Nice to meet you," the two agents said cordially.
"They recently received vital intelligence that someone matching Ashley's appearance has been spotted in Spain," Graham said, pulling their attention back to him.
"Spain is a pretty big country. Do we have anything to narrow down our search?" Leon asked, opening his folder.
"Negative," Simmons said. "All we know is she was spotted somewhere around the southwestern border near Portugal."
"By who?"
"Haven't the slightest clue but that's where you two come in. Effective immediately you both are being deployed to Seville and from there you will begin your search in the Andalusia Region for Miss Graham," Simmons said.
"What if this turns out to be a wild goose chase?" Alma said, folding her hands together in her lap. "Sounds like a ruse if I ever heard one."
"And if it is not a 'ruse' we risk missing an opportunity to bring Miss Graham home. I'm sure Johnson showed you what he found out about the grenade used during the abduction. Two plus two equals four, doesn't it?" Simmons replied, sounding a bit annoyed that she was questioning him.
"Please, you two," Graham said, rising from his chair in the Oval Office. Despite the grainy graphics Alma could make out tears in his eyes. "Please bring my baby home."
Leon and Alma shared a look before coming to an unspoken agreement as Leon looked back at the Commander in Chief.
"So when does our flight leave?"
Short chapter but the action will kick off in the next one when we get to Spain. I'm pleasantly surprised that people are liking this so far *beams*. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thank you mastergamer2495 and samspen for favoriting/following this and special thanks to Savage Kill for favoriting this as well as reviewing. You guys are so super-duper swish. You have no idea how happy I am to find people enjoying this, given how old this game is. See you next time.
