Chapter 3: Unconscious Desire

It was a small hotel room, sparsely furnished, the only thing noteworthy being the large picture window that showed the sunset. Yet, the normally warm yellow glow and blends of oranges and pinks seemed almost cold, sad even. A new magazine lay next to the open chamber of a well-used hand gun. A folder marked with a blood-red confidential' lay at its side, stacks of paper and photos strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It was her next mission.

So my name is Lily Chen now. Her voice even sounded alien to her, scary, foreign. Her hand unconsciously moved itself over the scar on her abdomen, as if trying to protect it from this new name. Her other hand lifted the martini to her cold lips, the alcohol momentarily giving her a false sense of warmth.

A knock at her door startled her. She drew her bath robe closer to her exposed body, irritated to have been interrupted during one of her very few moments of privacy. She angrily walked towards the door, but it suddenly burst open, causing her to cry out and jump backwards for her gun. She paused when she saw who it was, an icy chill running through her body at the darkly clad figure.

What the hell do you want?!, she hissed.

Now, now, Ada. Lips curled in a familiar arrogant sneer. Oh, my mistake, what was it? Ms. Chen?

Go to hell!, she screamed. Get the hell out of my room! The martini glass had shattered on the ground. He had easily evaded her attack.

The sneer was gone. In the blink of an eye he held her in his cold unyielding grip, his fingers tightening around her throat. She gasped, trying in vain to squirm out of his inhuman grip. The eyes were unreadable behind the omnipresent shades, no doubt enjoying the power he had over her.

What was that? The voice was stone.

She choked. The room was silent, save for the constant whirl from the overhead fan. Go to hell!, she managed to cough out. An infinite amount of time seemed to stand still. Is he going to kill me? The thought loomed in the center of her mind. Real fear began to fill her mind. Oh god! He wouldn't–He suddenly threw her to the floor, she gagged and began heaving, her lungs gasping for air. She tried to stand up in vain, but his leg pinned her to the ground.

Need I remind you, Agent 1827, that you have no say in what happens to you. He looked down at her as if she was some type of inferior insect. You belong to the Agency., his voice slammed down on her with as if it was dogma. He moved his foot, allowing her to crawl to the table and pull herself into a chair. He turned and began to walk out. Be ready by 15 hundred hours. Just as he was about to walk through the broken doorway he stopped. Don't think that they haven't noticed your less than enthusiastic will. They're monitoring your decline. He paused when he heard the click of the gun. She pointed it at his head.

I'm still a pretty good shot., she labored to say. Her throat burned, red marks reflecting where his fingers had cut off her air.

His lips curled in a cruel smile. That's the attitude you need.

I'll shoot you, you Goddamn monster!, she said hoarsely. He sneered again. He knew she couldn't hurt him. He turned around and walked out the door.

I wouldn't try anything stupid... Ada. His voice echoed as he left. You have nothing besides the life the Agency gives you.


The room was dark, the only light in the room came from the exposed hallway; no one had bothered to fix the door. There was a strange sound that echoed off the walls. It was unfamiliar, yet nostalgic. It was the sound of crying, but not the normal response that came with sorrow. Instead, these quiet sobs formed desperate and angry tears. Damn you Wesker!, her fist hit the table. She didn't feel the pain. Damn it all!

Her hand went down to the scar. Ada's scar, she tried to tell herself. I'm not Ada anymore. I'm whatever the Agency wants me to be. Yet, try as she might, she couldn't get her mantra to disassociate her emotions. She allowed her hand to rest against the scar; it felt familiar, conjuring images from her past that she had long tried to bury. Yet it felt good to remember, or at least it seemed a lot more comforting than the life she led now. Her thoughts slowly drifted towards her most forbidden and sealed memories; the memories that made her weak. The ones that made her feel. Her heart actually felt warmth as she remembered his face, his voice, his arms around her. But there also came an intense pain along with the memory, a pain of longing and tragedy. She even dared to say his name. It sounded almost too familiar and comfortable, but she knew that he was gone. Even before she found out about his disappearance, he had been gone from her a long time. Still, it was one of the few memories she cherished, for her time with the man named Leon S. Kennedy had actually been the first time she had showed her feelings to someone. Her scar reminded her of what had happened, yet she felt no regret about helping him. Still, there was a lot of buried guilt, especially about not being forthcoming about her true intentions when she had met him. What does it matter?, she thought. I made my choice, I wanted to stay with the Agency. She knew she was lying to herself even as she thought it. As much as she tried to deny it, she knew what she wanted. Slowly, wiping the last tears from her face, she walked towards the bathroom mirror. She stood there, motionless for at least five minutes; a storm of various thoughts coursing through her mind. Exhaling slowly, she looked one more time at the file and the gun on the table. She had made her decision, there would be no turning back now.

My name is Ada Wong. It felt good to finally say it.
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How exactly are we going to get into the Hive? Chris asked as he loaded some equipment into the jeep. The morning after agreeing to Alice's proposal, he had called one of the closer anti-Umbrella strongholds and requested the necessary weapons and supplies. The last delivery car had just driven back, leaving the core team members to plan their course of action. He glanced at Alice. There's nothing left at the Mansion, and the city is just a crater.

The dangerously attractive woman was busy reloading a small hand gun. She looked back at Chris. I'm pretty sure that the entrance to the Hive withstood the Mansion's self-destruct. She clicked the barrel and held the gun up, testing it's aim. Satisfied, she slid it into the holster on her hip. We may need to do a little digging, which is why I asked for the power drill and C4.

Why not a dousing rod or pendulum while we're at it? The former S.T.A.R.S. marksman asked sarcastically.

It's amazing that you've lasted this long against Umbrella. Alice said. Or maybe it's you're charming humor that makes zombies want to commit suicide. Chris glared at her.

Break it up you two! Jill said, acting irritated by the little spat. In truth, she was actually a bit threatened by Alice's directness with Chris. After all the ordeals they had been through, her affection for Chris Redfield had only grown stronger; yet the thought of confessing her feelings to him almost gave her as much fear as the Nemesis. Oh God... the Nemesis.... She still was in shock after realizing that the monster that had terrorized her had been Alice's friend and fellow survivor. And I killed him., she thought glumly. She suddenly felt something grip her shoulder. It was Alice.

You did what you had to do. I don't hold you responsible for killing him. Her eyes reflected empathy as well as anger. That's a privilege reserved Umbrella. Jill stared at her, a bit surprised that the other woman had known what she was thinking.

I know it's Umbrella's fault... but–

Look, if anything, I'm glad that you took him out of his misery. Alice interrupted. Let's get this mission started!
Away from the three, Carlos, Rebecca, Claire, and Barry, were preparing for the mission individually. Carlos was checking ammunition and weapons, Rebecca checking her medical supplies, Claire adjusting her combat fatigues, and Barry studying the schematics Alice had provided. In some ways they seemed over-prepared, but where Umbrella was concerned, none of them was willing to risk anything. The three were interrupted by a shrill whistle, Chris was ready to begin.

All right, we're going to try gain access to the Hive through the entrance where the Spencer Mansion used to be. It's virtually impossible that there could be anything down there, but we know better. The others exchanged looks, nodding in agreement. Alice spoke next. Our goal is to enter the Queen's chamber and try and reroute her main circuit board. No doubt the circuitry is badly damaged, so we're going to use these– She pointed to a bunch of stacked cube shaped machines. To try and boot her mainframe from. Luckily, due to the fact that she's at least been unused for six years, her security protocols are outdated and shouldn't be a problem. She produced a small rectangular shaped instrument that resembled a palm pilot. Thanks to technology and calling in a lot of favors, this device should be able to hack past anything she throws at us. She made a strange face. Besides, maybe after all this time she'll feel cooperative.

Why didn't we call in anyone else? Rebecca asked. Wouldn't it have been better to call in a specialized computer team?

You may trust you're organization, but I don't. I was hesitant to even call this many of you, but we may need the girl-power. She winked at Chris. Besides, you're teams are probably needed else where, if this mission fails, it would be a waste of resources.

Jill shot a look at Alice and Chris, momentarily forgetting her emotional numbness. Any chance that Umbrella still monitors this facility?, she hastily said. Or left any surprises before they moved out?

There's always the chance. Alice said frankly. That's why we're taking a car and not a chopper. As for the Hive, I doubt they left anything organic though, and I'm pretty sure that they cleared out all their experiments. Jill decided that she would stock some anti-B.O.W. grenade rounds, just in case.

Hey! Is it even safe going close to a place that was nuked?! Carlos suddenly said. I don't want no radiation poisoning, man!

Rebecca answered him. Well, it has been six years, and considering the yield of the nuclear missile that was dropped on Raccoon city, I would say that the radioactive falloff has reached non-lethal levels, although I wouldn't recommend us living there. She shrugged. Besides, we'll be going in from the Spencer Mansion, and that was pretty far from the city. So there shouldn't be a problem of environmental nuclear falloff after all this time.

Oh, okay then. Carlos said, respecting the young medic's judgment. What about the Hive, the thing was under the freakin' city!

Rebecca looked to Alice for an answer. The older woman merely pointed to a diagram Barry was looking at. The Hive was almost ten miles underground. It probably only felt the shockwave when the bomb went off.
Or it collapsed. Claire pointed out. The younger Redfield made a valid point.

Alice nodded. That's why this is a reconnaissance mission, we're trying to see if there is anything left.

Okay then. Chris said. We all know are positions. Let's lock and load.
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You have one hour of recreational time. The emotionless voice of the computer stated. Sherry merely sighed and walked out to the enclosed field. She still had no idea where this facility was, only that the sky was always overcast and it was a bit cold. The 50 foot high walls were covered in anti-personal razor wire, as well as being charged with enough electricity to fry a rhino. Going through the walls wasn't an option. This place is like a military base. . . She thought. Or maybe it is one. . . Much of Sherry's time was spent trying to figure out the exact nature of her wardens, but even after six years she only had a vague idea. Guard towers loomed over the area, their guns ready to fire at the slightest disturbance. Armed men constantly patrolled the small field itself, their military uniforms lacking in any sort of identification as to their loyalty. She zipped the standard issue coat a bit higher. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to tell Dr. NoFace that she wanted more free time. Cheap material., she said to no one. At least the beaten and worn vest Claire had given her still fit, giving her a little extra insulation. She looked at the other prisoners. Most were men, a couple of woman, all of them old. She didn't know why they were here; the guards made sure that none of the prisoners interacted. All of them looked broken and gaunt, their faces lacking the luster of those with a will. How long have they been here? She wondered. Could that be me in a couple of decades? She shuddered at the thought of being a prisoner for that long. I'd rather fry on the fence trying to escape!, she declared to herself. She was about to do a little jogging to get her temperature up when the whole field exploded with the sound of warning klaxons. In a second all the guards were aggressively rounding up the prisoners and escorting them back to their cells. Sherry was disappointed that her free time, no matter how cold, had been cut short. A pair of guards approached her, their eyes unfeeling and mean. Still, she must have meant something to this organization, for they never treated her roughly like the others. It was one of the mysteries of her captors that she was still trying to investigate.

You know the drill., one of them said.

Don't get smart. The other one said, taunting her. She had tried to provoke them on purpose in the past, but it had led to more powerful drugs being smuggled into her food. She hadn't been fooled.

But guys, the party's just getting started., she said in her best cute-girl voice. They weren't amused.

Start walking! Weapons were lifted in a show of authority. Sherry wasn't phased.

Aw, common?! Give me hint? How come we can't have more recess? She purposely raised her voice an octave for an effective whine.

Anger flashed through one of the guards eyes and he started towards her, but the other quickly pulled him back. The little bitch isn't worth it he growled to his partner. The other one stopped just short of hitting her with his gun.
One day, you little– he cut off by a large motor-like sound as a black helicopter passed over the field wall and continued over them.

Sherry cast an observant eye on it. Is that why they wanted us to go back in? I wonder what it could be. Ignoring the guard who was blatantly spewing profanity at her face, she walked back to her cell, leaving an even more enraged guard screaming at her. Better be careful of that one., she made mental note to herself. She could hear that helicopter's noise beginning to fade on the other side of the wall opposite to the one it had flown over. I guess it did land on the main compound.

The guards that lined the walls ignored her as she walked to the entrance to her cell. Sighing, she voluntarily opened the door. She leapt back with a start when she realized that there was someone in her room, standing over her desk.

Hello, Sherry. A voice totally lacking in any humor, or any emotion at all greeted her. Concealing her dislike, she smiled.

Hello, Mr. Wesker., she said to the man who had been her captor. I hope you enjoyed my diary, get a thrill out of it?

Oh, Sherry, you don't need to pretend you don't like me. His eye's were unreadable behind the glasses. You're father and I were very close friends you know.

She made her smile even more artificial. Oh, you're right Mr. Wesker. Of course I'm pretending not to like you. I mean, who wouldn't be grateful for someone keeping them imprisoned for almost half her life without seeing the outside world even once without a gun pointed at her? Her eyes burned at him with a total hatred. Their attack was lost on cold shades.

Now Sherry, sarcasm isn't becoming of a young lady of your age. His lips curled into the sneer. Many people out there would like to hurt you, you're here for your own protection. You are William Birkin's daughter after all. I feel it's my duty to see to your safety.

Fine, feed me the same lies, I don't give a damn. She paused. So where are taking me now? She crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. Nothing you could do could be more boring than this place.

On the contrary, my dear Ms. Birkin, I'm not here for you. I just came by to see how my favorite charge is doing., he readjusted his sun glasses. This actually surprised her. Then why are you here?

You're a smart girl, you should know what confidential means.

What was in the helicopter? She asked him directly. She thought she saw a real smile underneath the stone.

Curious, just like your father. He got up and walked towards the door. She instinctively side stepped, chills running up and down her back as he passed her. Even after all her encounters with him, there was still something about him the genuinely frightened her.


I'll be seeing you Sherry.

Then maybe hell will freeze over and you'll overheat. She said dryly.

Such a clever girl– She knew what he was going to say. –just like you're father.

She exhaled sharply and turned to walk towards her bed. It seemed Wesker had to characteristically get another set of last words in. Oh, and Sherry?

, she angrily asked.

Claire's never going to come for you. You shouldn't be so naive. He walked out the door. It sealed, the electronic lock flashing red.

Despite her overwheling anger, Sherry honestly had to wonder if what he said was correct.
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Well, I guess in this chapter we know that Ada's still around. . .I can't help it! I love her character too much to ignore her. Anyway, I'm still trying to figure out how reflect what an S.O.B. Wesker is, but I wonder if he's comming across as too chatty. Oh well, expect more action soon, as these first couple of chapters are supposed to set the stage. As always, please leave comments or anything you would like to see. (Not guarenteed I'll write it, but I'm interested in what you want to see.) Also experimented with a little jealousy on Jill's part about Alice and Chris, but not sure if it was actually appropriate to the mood.