Resident Evil-Sins of the Fathers
Act One: Scene Three
Disclaimer- have we all figured it out now? Ramen owns nothing-blah, blah, blah…
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"In the end, we will not remember the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
-Martin Luther King Jr.
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Washington DC.
STARS National Headquarters.
March 12, 2032
The day had gotten progressively warmer-although their neighboring state of New York was plagued with rain. The man who strode between the Sakura trees (already in bloom) was enjoying the heat-and the large crowds that had come out to cheer.
Peace at last. Jason Connell breathed deep and smiled with the breeze wonderful peace.
No, there was no peace. Jason frowned and turned away from the crowds cheering the President. No peace while…Umbrella lived.
"Let those who desires peace, prepare for war." He whispered. He turned away from the bright pink flowers and the happiness.
He could not have peace.
He walked along a curving path-passing people going about their business. Now that the war was over, mankind could return to practical matters like technology, and religion. His eyes passed over a group of people meditating in the park to some techno beat.
They seemed so out of place.
He continued walking-marveling at how quickly the masses had forgotten when the streets were plagued with dying and undead. There had been a mistake-a horrible mistake-and then-
It was gone.
He who does not remember the past…He awoke with a jolt.
"Hey asshole!" the girl wore black eyeliner and lipstick and pants and shoes and soul. Her partner was shirtless-revealing a detailed concoction of piercing that seemed to glitter in the morning.
"Sorry." Jason waved them off. STARS headquarters was a few blocks ahead. Located on the Plaza-it was a squat flat building moved into its own section…away from the other government agencies. He passed more Goths, realizing that if the war had made people change…
They no longer cared.
" I still care." He pushed open the door to his office building and smiled at the desk attendant. The banner of his agency-six stars on black-hung above her desk embossed in plate and finish.
"They've finally discovered the reason behind the sudden closure of the Horizon Chemical Foundation Plant."
Jason whirled around.
Margaret Del-Soto curled herself around a chair. The heat had made her more exotic-everything about her suddenly lotus-like and oriental. Jason shook himself and nodded-coughing into his hand to cover up his momentary lapse in judgment.
"Did you pass it off to the H.S.A?"
Margaret nodded, the masses of black hair behind her head bobbing up and down like a fish in a pond, "I passed it to a friend of mine-Mary Callahan, and she'll do prelim."
"What does the company say?"
A ghost of a smile played on Margaret's lips, "That's the funny thing. Normally Umbrella says nothing but "piss off" with the bird in our general direction." She blinked her almond eyes, "But they're sending over one of their senior people."
Jason nodded and scratched his leg. He was a large man, and heat like this made him itch from a bout of infection with the T-virus when was younger. The T-Virus was so common now…that which had been their greatest enemy was about as threatening as the common cold…
All thanks to Umbrella"I'll be meeting with this Robert Verräter." Margaret seemed distant then, "I'll be sure to report carefully on what I learn to Rebecca."
"Do you think that's wise?" Jason had no major qualm with his employer-SSA Rebecca Redfield, but…
"She may be inexperienced." Margaret stretched-pulling her top up to reveal her navel, "But she's going to have to learn."
"Yes."
"Sooner then later."
Jason paused, then, "Yes."
Rebecca Redfield had been born into power. The only child of Christopher Redfield and Jill Valentine. Rebecca had been raised on tales of the evils of Umbrella and the horrors of Raccoon city. Her aunt-Claire-was head of the International branch…
Keeping tabs on Gethsemane in France…"I know that Robert Verräter was trained at Gethsemane." Margaret still was…distant-cold, "So I'll call Claire Redfield for some surveillance photos."
Jason nodded, "You say the word and my team'll move in."
"I don't want Rebecca to find out about this yet." Here Margaret became cheerful again, "She might insist on coming-and I desperately don't want to put her in the middle of this."
Jason nodded. When Rebecca was thirteen she had been kidnapped by an unnamed assailant. The man hadn't misused her-but he'd kept her for almost two years. Ever since then, although she was SSA of STARS-every employee from the janitor up had been trying to protect her.
For the sake of her mother…"You have a meeting with your newest recruit." Margaret smiled broadly, "I picked her out myself-Kelly Thompson."
"Kelly Thompson?" Jason balked, "The Chess Wunderkind?"
"The Very same." Margaret smirked, " She's sitting in your office-most likely reinventing your rubix cube."
"WHAT!" Margaret smiled as the big man bolted up the nearby stairway, "I LOVE THAT RUBIX CUBE!"
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On Route to Barbarossa CaliforniaTIGER train-02389
He was surrounded by darkness.
Darkness and fire, something was burning just beyond his reach-providing a light that he could not see. It was the worst feeling he'd ever experienced-
The knowledge that saving is just beyond your reach.
Mom?
His mother was there, only she wasn't his mother-she was a frightened girl sitting on a train. He reached out towards her-warning her-screaming at her to get out of the way-
Mom! No! The other woman was there- white wings-a goddess. She could not reach her in time either-his mother was going to be cut down-
The monster broke through, its tentacles twisting past the police officer wearing dim gray smoke. They wrapped around the goddess's wings-shattering them-enveloping her-
His mother!
He had to save her!
She sat, singing softly to herself as the train roared through twists and turns each sharper then the last. The thing-the thing at the end of the tunnel with its long sharp teeth and its great gray-green tentacles-its mucous sliding all over the train-
Mother!
And it was no longer a monster.
He had his hands wrapped around her throat-choking the life out of her. He screamed as he stared into a mirror of his own face twisted into a maniacal expression-his hands went back onto the railing trying to catch him before he-
FELL.
I don't want to die-I don't want to die-please-not like this. I'm good; I'll be good mother, father-grandfather! Grandmother! Someone! Anyone!
He hit wet earth and smelled a dead and dying house as a voice whispered softly in his ear-promising him eternal damnation…
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Daniel Birkin awoke in a cold sweat.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
A woman was peering into his face-her long brown hair held back in an ornate silver clip shaped like a dragon. The sounds of the rushing countryside echoed around him-the other passengers in the TIGER going about their business waiting for home.
"You were screaming, "No! No! Leave my mother alone!" the woman continued, "I was about to wake you before you made a scene." She seemed proud of that, in a stupid way.
"Th-Thank-you."
" No problem." The woman smiled cheerfully, "Say, you aren't by any chance a survivor are you?"
Daniel frowned, his mind trying to grasp something rational.
"What?"
"A survivor." She held up a medical bracelet. Government regulation required all people who had survived a T or G Viral outbreak to be marked and carefully monitored. She had red eyes-he could see that now-a long-standing symptom of G-Virus contamination.
"No…" he shook himself, "No, I'm not."
"Just thought I'd ask." The woman said cheerfully. She was silent then, consumed by something that Daniel could not see, or touch-but was just as responsible for as she. He sighed, and replugged in his headphones.
People living their lives for you on TV.
They say they're better than you and you agree.
He says, "Hold my calls" from behind walls cold.
The Boss says, "Come here boy. There ain't anything for free."
Another doctor's bill, a lawyer's bill,
Another cute cheap thrill
You know you love him if you put him in your will but...
Daniel pulled out a pen and began to scribble in his notebook.
Mar-12.2032.
Mission was a complete success. I don't understand why I have to be the one to do this job; this is why I donate a tithe to the company-to pay for people to do this.
It was sweet however, watching those bastards burn. I cannot understand the corporation's obsession with using viral technology (despite its assets.) I find that the same thing can be accomplished with neurotoxin.
He paused, and wondered if he should include the dream. Carolyn had been after him to keep a journal talking about how her "Blog" kept her calm in times of crisis.
I had a strange dream…I don't want to go into the details. I thought I had gotten over the sleeping problems I had since Gethsemane…
God! There was a Nightmare.
This must have something to do with our work as of late. I won't trouble myself with telling anyone. Carolyn would call me a fool and Robert would say that I was weak. I must divert all of my attention to my project-
Attention Passengers-train now arriving at Yalta-Station California. Attention all Passengers-Train now arriving-
"Is this your stop?" Daniel folded up his things and stared at his traveling companion-managing a smile, "You live in California?"
The woman looked up at him, her red eyes filled with sadness.
"I don't live anywhere."
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"Civilization degrades the many to exalt the few."
-Amos Bronson Alcott
(A/N: that's one of my favorite quotes J)
Golgotha Asia
The Dancing Dragon Club
March 13, 2032
"And I have your word, this will be completed?"
The receiver of the conversation laughed, "You do. When have I ever failed to not serve you?"
* Pause * " This is true…"
"Come then, let's enjoy the evening-tell me of your wife, how is she?"
"I don't want to discuss her, I want to hear what you have planned again?"
The speaker waved a hand, "My dear sir! The balls are already in motion that will place two homeland security agents at Barbarossa when your man-" here the receiver paused, "He is your man is he not?"
Harvey Duvall smiled, "Yes, he's "my" man as you put it."
The music swirled faster.
"They will be placed-the government will be in uproar. The loss of Barbarossa will be blamed on the Horizon Chemical Foundation-as recommendation for what was done to them in Las Vegas. You must put your faith in me my friend."
"Because you roll the balls." Harvey had used this man many times before to work his magic.
"Balls, it is so crude no? I much prefer dice. A roll of the dice, and the pawns that were put into place 34 years ago will move again. Something my mother once told me." The speaker leaned back, "That which our father does haunts us, that which our grandfather does haunts us. The past never dies-it stays alive and flourishing because our actions are determined by the actions of those who come before us."
"Big words." The speaker lit a cigarette-a dragon within a dragon, "But true no?"
Harvey smiled, " I could not agree with you more."
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Gethsemane France
March 13, 2032
Dawn.
The man in the trim business suit stalked the streets quickly. Gethsemane was not safe after dark, nowhere was safe for him…but this place especially so.
He frowned, and ducked into a nearby café.
The man slicked back his brown hair-streaked with gray. Once he had proof-more then the photos to bring to Claire-he could make sure that Umbrella went down for good. Maybe they'd give him a plaque and allow him to work in a real office with a real secretary.
Maybe they'd give him a fucking parade-for all that he'd done.
Hell, maybe they'd let him live a normal life.
The man lifted a cigarette to his lips. He'd started the filthy habit year's ago-a way of coping with the stress he'd had to endure. Claire hated it; she said it gave him an uncouth look.
The café was empty save for a single patron bent over a drink. Even the bartender appeared absent.
"Hey pal."
The man and drink did not move.
"Sir?" the man slipped into his "Cop Voice" "Sir are you alright?"
Every instinct in his brain was going off five alarms screaming at him to bolt out the café-door and run.
"Sir?"
Still nothing, now his conscious brain was telling him to leave. This place smelled wrong.
The man was so close to his fellow human he could smell him. He could smell the wine on his breath-the leather stench from his coat-the decay from his dead body-
DECAY!
The zombie twisted its neck upward unnaturally, and Leon Kennedy screamed.
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Author's note: The special ness of chapter-three. More things move into motion, more places-new people. I promised new characters and old right? Did it leave you with questions? It left me with questions-
Claire: no it didn't! You're the author! You know what happens in the story!
Author: Oh yeah…* nervous laugh * I do…
Claire: Dear God, save me from this crazy woman-
-The author stuffs Claire into a closet-
Author: Yes! Chapter 4 ASAT! J Must love summer baby!
