Resident Evil: The Recurring Nightmare of Hope
Chapter Seven: Advancing by Design
"Besides blood samples that'll take us a lot longer to identify that we can afford right now, what else do we have to track these people down?" Chris overturns another piece of furniture in the house as Jill traces a finger over the weird cross in the flooring.
Leon growls from another room before an object is flung through the doorway and shatters against the wall, "Damn it all!"
"I think," Jill doesn't even glance in the ex-cop's direction, "he's taking this harder than you, Chris.."
It's true; Chris sees the Los Illuminados symbol as a good place to start, as he's dealt with their handiwork before. The older member of the BSAA team sighs and fights to not remember that moment in his life. With the threat already escalated as far as it was, Jill and Chris had no choice but to take out all infected threats. Unlike their dealings with Umbrella weapons, there aren't any real documents to study about this parasite, no way to find a cure, or if there even is one. Fingerless gloves squeak as he clenches his fists in anger, finding himself hoping that they don't intend to use Claire as one link in the Plaga chain of command.
"Chris?" Leon slowly walks into the room with something clenched tightly in his left hand.
"What, Leon?"
His hand opens up to reveal a patch of red leather, the image on it one that Chris knows all too well, "Claire's vest?"
Leon nods and replies, "Sherry was here. Looks like for a while too. What's our next move?"
Jill replies this time, allowing Chris to take the scrap of leather, "I have a contact in the US Government that has all the details of the incident with the president's daughter. Hopefully she can give us a location to start investigating."
Chris stands up quickly from his squatted position on the floor, knees cracking in protest, "In the mean time I suggest we get back to the hotel. We've been here longer than we should have been, someone may have called the police."
11
The car ride back is filled with the trading of information, Chris barely adding anything to the conversation that is mainly between Jill and Leon. His mind is completely elsewhere, leaving his body behind to start to rot as he thinks about everything he's fought against since the day he was told that Bravo Team was missing. So much death, so much loss, Chris still having a hard time dealing with it all even after all these years. Regret is what the Raccoon Police Department shrink called it, but Chris knows better. It's borderline self-loathing that plagues him nowadays. If he didn't accept the transfer to Alpha Team a few months after he joined S.T.A.R.S. he would've been with Bravo Team, might've helped save them, get them through it all.
Don't waste the time, Chris, no time left to focus on the past; the future is too important anymore.
Once he returned from Antarctica with Claire, Chris became too obsessed in hunting down Wesker, often dreaming of the day that particular chapter is closed for good. At first it never had a negative impact on his work, usually he used the rage to help him focus on the enemy before them. Soon though, mainly after the BSAA was formed around the team that helped out in Russia, Chris shifted more of his workload onto the other operatives, especially Leon and Claire, so that he could focus on his last demon: Albert Wesker.
"Chris?"
"I'm fine Jill," he waves a hand to assure her and dismiss her worry as he drops back into his pit of despair.
Chris and Jill were the BSAA representatives at a Global Conference on Bioterrorism in Washington D.C. soon after Ashley Graham was returned to the states. Right before they were set to speak on the dangers of not only the weapons, but also the people who use them, they got orders to assist the Secret Service and local police at the hospital following mention of monsters in the hospital. That was where Chris finally began to realize that there was a lot more wrong with the world than just his own personal vendetta against the final tie to Umbrella. As they made their way through the hospital the two collected as much data as they could concerning the main patient: Ashley Graham and what infected her. Chris soon found himself forced to gun down the president's daughter as she held a gun to Jill's head with one hand, and a parasite set to infect Jill in the other.
"Hey, Redfield," this voice is Leon's, and is a lot more attention-grabbing than Jill's worried tones.
Chris turns from the window and its fast-moving scenery, "What, Leon?"
"Jill asked you something, and it sounds important," Leon slowly turns the car back into the rental place they picked it up from.
Chris looks at Jill as they exit the car, her face showing the worry her voice hides, "You know it wasn't your fault, right?"
"Circumstances be damned, no matter what was going on, I still pulled the trigger, Jill."
11
Leon tosses his holster onto the chair he was sitting in a few hours earlier before dropping down onto the couch under the big window, having decided on the walk over to give Chris and Jill the bedroom with the two beds. His mind is still swimming with all the details of the day, body still pumping with adrenaline fueled by his worry for Claire. Nonetheless though, Leon Kennedy finds a moment to let out a big yawn, his lack of sleep since she went missing finally getting to the younger member of the BSAA. His membership with the BSAA was only conditional when Chris offered the spot to him; in case Chris didn't make it back from Antarctica. Once he returned and Leon saw the new fire in Claire's eyes, the decision to become a permanent member was a no-brainer for him and an even easier decision for Claire.
Hold on, Claire, we're coming for you… Leon holds up the two drawings he made of the clues Claire left for them at the house, his mind trying to figure out where they cross.
"Can't sleep either?" Chris drops down on the little recliner, which is even further dwarfed by his larger frame, and quickly turns on the TV with a heavy sigh.
"Not in the slightest," Leon is astonished to see what he thinks was only a few minutes has turned into an hour and a half since he sat down on the sofa.
As Chris continues to flick through the channels, looking for anything that sounds like English, Leon turns to look at his friend, "So any thoughts on what we might be up against?"
"Reports from Krauser that weren't completely redacted by the Government mentioned that the entire population of the area seemed to be under the influence of a large bruiser called Mendes. I think someone else was controlling him using Plaga. The little bug is quite versatile it seems when in the right hands…"
"Recent intelligence from your encounter with them?" Leon hates having to be specific with people he has known for a while.
A deep sigh as Chris visibly fights the desire to avoid the topic, "Until they go to attack it's almost impossible to tell who is infected. Once they attack, you will think you're fighting zombies again. Every so often if they lose sight of you for a bit, they'll start chanting or humming something. Some of them use weapons, others lunge for you, all of this depending on what they are currently holding at the time they deem you a threat. One of the Secret Service Agents put down his gun before he spotted me and then proceeded to attack me with his knife instead of the gun."
"So they still retain human qualities after infection? Any luck trying to rea-" Chris slams a fist down on the arm of the chair he is sitting in.
"They might not be zombies, but that parasite has still made them monsters. Once full control is exerted on the target, there is no saving them."
Leon is silent as he processes not only the information Chris has shared, but also how his friend is reacting to it all. Something dark happened in the hospital with Ashley Graham, something far beyond Chris having to kill her. For now though, he decides not to push the subject, as they both have more pressing matters to contend with. Three beers are placed onto the table, startling both men as Jill drops herself onto the left arm of the recliner Chris is sitting in, her eyes locked with the TV in a stare of obliviousness.
11
"Leon you need to get some rest," Jill sighs as the person she is addressing just shakes it off and opens one of the bottles.
"We should be doing something," if ever there was a final note to go out on, that would be it if Chris didn't laugh a little.
"Like what? We don't know where to go. The Government is being really stingy with the details of the failed rescue in Spain."
Dirty blonde hair is disturbed as Leon glares up quickly to the two agents sharing the chair, "Why not ask Joshua Graham about the note he received?"
Jill gasps as Chris stands up quickly, the motion knocking her off balance for a second, "There was no note! All they had to go on was the airport she arrived at in Spain and then a few witness statements of her hopping into a taxi and heading northwe-.. Oh my god.."
The brunette woman smirks at Leon before pulling out her phone and dialing a number, "I would like to book three tickets on the next flight to Spain please."
Chris nods approvingly at Leon before slipping a plastic card toward Jill, who smiles wide and says, "No ma'am, whatever is available, no preference."
As Leon watches on in amazement at how quick they work, Chris pulls out three small books and holds them up to Jill, who reads off the names one at a time, "Leon Scott. Jill-" a glare at Chris. "Jill Rueben. Chris Mitchells. Oh really? That's great, thank you!"
"It's been what, fifteen years since Arklay and I still can't live down Jill Sandwich?"
11
Claire wakes up with a start, working hard to ignore the quickly expanding pain in the back of her head as new sounds and smells rock her senses. Sounds first so her mind can settle and really identify the smells later. A dull drumming sound, most likely a motor, possibly several motors meaning she is in something large and moving. Through the numerous creaks and groans of the vessel she finds herself here, Claire can barely make out the sounds of crashing water.
"Great…" Claire hates large ships as they remind her of floating coffins, metal boxes you can't get out of once they start sinking.
"Claire?" Sherry's voice brings a new urgency to Claire's situation, the voice a decent bit off, meaning their captors have separated them to prevent the same fiasco from the house repeating itself here.
"Sherry," Claire identifies her bonds as thick wire cable, which she knows won't be easy to break or slip out of, "we'll be fine, don't worry."
There is a sound of scuffling before Claire finds the blindfold around her face removed, "What? I thought they would separate us better…"
Sherry smiles down at her and holds up her hands which are also bound in the same thick cable, "They didn't see the need for it. Even if we break free of the cable there's nowhere to go or hide… They have the entire ship well-staffed."
Claire does a quick study of their surroundings, finding they have been stashed in a large and empty storage room, "Who are these people, Sherry?"
"I'm not sure… I've been in their care for almost twelve years now and I don't think I've been off of this boat for more than a week… They never talk to me for more than a few minutes when they are extracting more of my blood… I thought we destroyed the G-Virus, Claire? Isn't that why you left me in that office in the lab!?" Sherry has dug her face against Claire's shoulder and is crying out.
"I thought so too, Sherry… I'm so sorry, if I didn't go after Chris… If I never left you and Leon…" Claire finds herself struggling to fight back the tears of her own regret and sorrow.
A sniffle as Sherry leans back to lock gazes, "You did what you needed to do. None of us could have expected someone to know about me and what happened to me in Raccoon City. Who all is looking for us?"
A smile as Claire thinks of the team tearing apart the French countryside looking for her, "Was in Paris with Leon tracking down a bio-weapons deal you were involved in… I'm pretty sure he dragged Chris and Jill into this… Don't worry, Sherry. I left a few clues as to who has us; hopefully they can piece it all together and get to us in time…"
Blonde hair swishes through the air as Sherry sits down next to Claire, her face swollen from all the crying she's done recently, "You know, I asked Leon to take me with him that day… He just smiled and told me that it would be safer in the house. That it was just a simple run to the bank and then the store… Know the last thing I remember about him?"
Claire shakes her head and pulls the younger woman against her, "The look on his face right before the kidnappers dropped the stock of a rifle across his head… It was fear, Claire… Not for himself of course, he was afraid of what would happen to me… If only I had pushed to go with him harder… It's my fault, Claire…"
"Hey. Imagine how I feel, Sherry…."
11
"Sir, we have confirmation that Redfield, Valentine, and Kennedy have all booked flights to Spain under assumed names. Call came from the same phone that we tracked here earlier," Cranston Reed takes the file from the lower peon and waves him off; disgusted with the fact this little ant disturbed his sanctuary.
All his work is slowly falling apart, all because of the infamous Chris Redfield mentality, "Cynthia, get me a direct line to President Benford. Now. I don't care what time it is in D.C. This is far more important."
The line is silent for approximately three minutes, Reed's impatience forcing him to count every second wasted during this time, "Do you have ANY idea what time it is, Reed!?"
"They're on the way to Spain as we speak," no time for pleasantries or the burning rant to shut up Adam Benford.
A light disturbance on the other end, like he is moving somewhere else, "Do they know where the group is located?"
"Bits and pieces, I've managed to keep the Graham Incident sealed as much as possible. What do we do about this?"
"Nothing. Even if they get the girl back and take out Los Illuminados, we have everything set up stateside to continue on," Adam's voice is hushed and rushed, the sounds of muted footfalls on carpet relay that the President is still moving through the White House.
Cranston opens a file and thumbs through the photos contained within, his ice blue eyes reflecting a name back at him, "Don't worry, Adam. We'll avenge your daughter's death. Chris Redfield will pay for what he did to her at the hospital."
11
"No."
"You have to…"
Jill crosses her arms and turns her head to the left, nose just barely pointed upward in disgust, "I absolutely refuse."
Leon yawns as the mini-argument drags him from the nap he fell into while waiting for their flight to start boarding, "What's the problem, kids? Do I need to change someone's diaper?"
Chris glares down at his fellow agent before holding a hand out to Jill, "I don't care what you do or don't like to eat. We're all tired, exhausted, and your stomach hasn't stopped growling since we passed that Thai place after handing the rental back in."
"We are tired, we are all hungry, but that isn't an excuse to eat that!" Jill's eyes lower down to the something Chris ordered from the Chinese stand in the airport.
"You know, I've never seen chicken that shape before," Leon pokes the food item with a chopstick.
Chris groans and turns back to Jill, "It's good! I eat it all the time."
"You also ate that cookie we found in your couch. You know, the couch you didn't know you had?"
Just then, Leon's stomach rumbles with the strength of a jet engine, his eyes lowering to the bowl of chicken something-Chinese, then raising to the two arguing people, down to the bowl, up to Chris. Two hands wrap around the bowl and it is brought to his side of the table, the chopsticks quickly taken up in the fingers of his right hand.
"Don't mind if I do!" a decent helping is clasped in the wooden instruments.
As the food is raised up towards his mouth, his eyes glean across the terminal to a rattrap and suddenly Leon remembers where he's seen the shape of the chicken before, "Or not…"
Jill and Chris continue their debate over if that food is fit for human consumption as Leon slowly wanders off in search of something not only is edible, but looks edible as well. Figures pass by or are passed by him as he makes his way back to the food court, his mind drifting away from his surroundings for a few fleeting seconds. His body walks on automatic as his mind throws all the details before him. Leon walks through his own drawing of the military patch and the Los Illuminados symbol, hears people reciting excerpts from the Ashley Graham incident in the hospital, and finally arrives at a place that strikes his fancy as a document comes into focus.
"What can I get you, sir?" the feminine voice has a heavy French accent, but Leon just stares at the menu, then bolts away and back toward his friends.
How the fuck could I miss that!? Damn it, Chris!
END