Resident Evil:
Private Investigations

4

We stopped. The van doors creaked open and bright light spilled in. I checked my watch, it was about midnight. Some people came in and took some stuff from the back of the van. When I was pretty sure they were done I peered around the crate I was behind. The same girl was standing guard and she was facing away from the doors. I crept forward, exited the van and wandered along its side. I was back at the airport, which would explain the light. I followed the people inside and saw they were checking onto an Air France flight to Paris Charles-De-Gaulle. After a quick chat with the girl at the desk I was on. We took off at one and spent what seemed an eternity in the air until we touched down in France.
My first instinct was to find a pub and get totally pissed. But then I decided against it, the drink would come later. I hailed a taxi and followed the group of people; I assumed they were the ex-S.T.A.R.S team, to a hotel near the centre of town, "L'Hotel De La Revolution". I set myself up in the bar opposite, the great thing about Paris is the street cafes, you sit there and nobody cares. Eventually they started to leave, I didn't know where to and frankly I didn't care, so long as they left the papers behind. I walked quickly up to the hotel and asked the receptionist which room they had, pretending to be a friend that wanted to give them a surprise. He told me it was on the third floor, room 301, and I started my ascent. It was a very large hotel for Paris and had wooden panelling and soft carpets. I called Ashford with their location and started to pick the lock of their room, this was my big mistake.
I opened it and entered, they still hadn't finished unpacking and some of their wardrobes were quite frankly crap but I wasn't here to inspect their room. I wandered about and looked for things that might belong to Redfield, I couldn't find anything, the balcony door was open and I stepped out onto the balcony, I looked across Paris to Monmartre, it gleamed white in an otherwise dirty grey city. Someone somewhere was playing Dire Straits, Private Investigations, how appropriate, I mused as I returned to the room to come face to face with Redfield, and the muzzle of his pistol.