Darkest Dreams, Brightest Hopes
Chapter One: Burning Nightmares
Cranston Reed, Director of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, your attendance has been requested at the Oval Office by the President of the United States, Adam Benford.
Cranston slowly marches through the carpeted halls of the White House, the paper invitation gripped tight in his right hand. It arrived immediately after Rico Pike handed in his transfer request from the field to a desk job. Something about this doesn't sit right with him, but answers will be gained soon as he approaches the door to the Oval Office. Rosa's ascension to the Prime Ministry went off without a hitch, as did her speech on the complete eradication of the bioweapons on the black market. What surprised him the most though about all of these events was her immediate call for the disbandment of the B.S.A.A. and its reformation under the direct control and budget of the United Nations. President Benford must have gotten through to her for this to happen.
The plans set in motion after the tragedy at the hospital so long ago are finally coming to fruition, "Reed? Come on in and take a seat…"
"Thank you, Mister President," he doesn't notice the faces in the room until he sits down on the couch on the right side of the room.
There are four faces he recognizes: one is Vice President Jonathon Mackenzie, there is the Chief of Staff, the Attorney General, accompanied by the Secretary of Defense, "Ladies and Gentlemen, a pleasure to see you all as always…"
"Wish we could say the same about you, Cranston," the dark voice of the Secretary of Defense, Julian Lagrange, cuts deep, as the two of them have a history longer than the North Lawn.
"Enough of this, Cranston, I have a request to make of you and the B.S.A.A. concerning a political prisoner housed at the United Nations," this is news to Cranston, usually any prisoners at the UN are brought before a global tribunal within days of capture.
Cranston crosses his left leg over the right one and leans back into the couch, "Who is the prisoner and how can the B.S.A.A. be of service?"
"Your group can be of service by escorting the prisoner to his permanent cell at Leviathan Station," the name of the prison he will be traveling to sends a chill down his spine.
The Leviathan Station is an underwater prison built on the bottom of Crater Lake in Oregon used as a waystation for terrorist prisoners following the events of September 11th. From there, prisoners are sent either to execution or traded to other countries for prisoners of great interest to the United States. For a prisoner to be taken from the UN to Leviathan, they must have done something incredibly nasty.
This is a great honor and will allow the B.S.A.A. to expand into armed escort as part of their profile, "And who is the prisoner?"
"This name does not leave this room, understand?" President Benford slides a tablet toward Reed, his face dark and unreadable.
Slim fingers slowly open the tablet, green eyes reading the name before Reed feels his blood begin to boil, "He's still alive!?"
"Apparently all of them are, but he's not giving up their hideouts," Chief of Staff Alice Kinkaid tosses another folder at him before resuming her leisurely posture on the couch.
Adam Benford sure has a more relaxed regime than he remembers, "All of them are alive? I got confirmed kills from Pike that night… Also, I've been monitoring any connections they had, closing all of their accounts, and adding their assets to the organization."
"Are you sure you have a firm grip on your organization, Reed?" Adam's voice is defiant and strong, showing that he is no longer the little puppet he started this crusade with.
"I'll escort the prisoner to Leviathan Station immediately, sir. The B.S.A.A.'s best will be on the squad."
There is a small silence before the Attorney General speaks up, "I thought your best betrayed us and went to Spain?"
11Two Days Later11
Claire sits in the lone chair in safe house number five as her brother storms around, still pissed off at the B.S.A.A., "I can't believe these assholes! They seized EVERYTHING!"
"I guess we are lucky you guys didn't surrender the old S.T.A.R.S. safe houses to them when you joined," Claire responds wistfully.
Cranston seized all their assets, closed all their bank accounts, and is even monitoring all their friends and family. They aren't sure how Cranston learned they were still alive, but that no longer matters to everyone but Chris as Jill is busy trying to obtain whatever gear she can for them. Sherry is out doing her best to obtain some cash, Claire deciding it be best not to ask how she is getting this money.
"We are going to need to take down the B.S.A.A. if we are to ever be free again," this statement catches his sister completely off-guard.
"What the hell are you talking about, Chris? Those people used to be our friends… We can't just turn our backs on them this quick…" Claire has a point that Chris can't ignore, but he will try anyway, being the stubborn Redfield he is.
The older Redfield grits his teeth and turns to Jill, "How is that list of possible sympathy fighters coming along?"
"Not good, Chris," Jill adjusts the ball-cap on her head and types away some more on the laptop she lifted from a busy business man outside the coffee shop down the street, "the list shrinks by the minute as Cranston continues to spin us as traitors… He's taken what good remained in our names, Chris…"
"And you say we can't just go into the B.S.A.A. that WE built and demand Cranston turn himself in!? I NEED to see this man bleed, Claire…"
Claire places a hand on his shoulder and sighs heavily, "I know how you feel, Chris… His back-room dealings and quest to bring the bioweapons back into the light of day cost me one of the people I hold closest to me. No one really wants to see him pay more than I do," she smacks him to stop his retort, "no one, Chris…"
How did things go so wrong while we thought things were going right for the first time in a long time?
11
Silence, darkness, and deafness, all these do are feed into the feeling of powerlessness, loneliness, and hopelessness. These feelings are all that plague the person inside the dark room, nothing to be done to combat these emotions. Doesn't matter though, the person trapped all alone has fought off these feelings before, on more than one occasion. This time might be different though, there is a single name putting a hole in their heart as how they were separated was terrible. The explosion, the flames, the screams leaving his own lips, the nightmare over how he and Claire were separated haunts Leon relentlessly as he remains tied up inside this locked room somewhere.
"There are three of you outside the door, one has the faint smell of freshly-fired gunpowder… Possible military base with a gun-range, unless I am trapped in an active battleground?" no answer, never an answer, and Leon accepts that.
He has flashes of events before he woke up inside this room, faces he doesn't recognize, pain he can't place, flashes of light, and voices that mean nothing to him, "How about a sandwich? Two pieces of bread with a splat of butter? Anything? I'll even take a bottle of warm water…"
A window is slid open on the door and a small canteen is tossed in, landing at his feet, which are bound to the chair just like his hands, "You guys are funny. We should get a beer sometime when this is over…"
Even more silence in return, just like every moment he has been awake inside this room, "Claire…"
11
The limo ride back to the B.S.A.A. Headquarters at the outskirts of Washington D.C. has been relatively quiet, Cranston staring intently at the tablet face-down in the seat next to him. Adam called it a 'gift', but Cranston knows it is a reminder of his failure. He can't believe that Leon Kennedy is alive, but his blood boils knowing that Chris and the others are alive as well, WITH the blonde petri-dish. They will unravel all the hard work he put in the past few years to gain a strong standing in the political world. The B.S.A.A. is where he needs it to be, a strong force that can quickly react to threats abroad, to prevent the events at the hospital with Ashley Graham from happening again.
Why can't they see what I did was for the betterment of the world!? Cranston punches the back of the tablet, which causes him to turn it over and watch the feed on the screen.
Leon is bound to a chair, the night-vision feed showing that his bandages are in severe need of redressing. They haven't been feeding him, or keeping him hydrated, hoping to break him down further and hopefully get more information out of him regarding his teammates. Cranston knows better than those bureaucrats that the Umbrella Survivors are going to stick together and that Leon would sooner die than turn on the people he considers family.
Pike… but will Rico stand as firm?
His phone is pressed to his ear as he smirks, "Agent Stone, glad to see you made it to the States safely… I need you to have Rico Pike in my office when I arrive, thank you."
11
Rico slowly scans his transcription of the verbal report from the SOU out in Eastern China, "They really didn't give me much to go with…"
"Rico Pike?" the accent is heavy, possibly West African?
That means it could really only be one person, "Josh Stone," Rico spins around in his chair to smile at possibly the only person who could outshoot Chris Redfield, "What do I owe the pleasure?"
"Director Reed is on his way back and would like you to be waiting for him in his office," this can't be good, not in the least…
"What does he want from me? I'm almost ready with the China Report, but I could use a little longer to gather a report from the Sweeper Team we sent in afterwards…"
A shake of his head doesn't put Rico in any calm frame of mind, "I am not sure what he wants, I was told to deliver a message and I did that."
"Fine, fine, I'll head to his office now, Josh…" Rico steps up from the desk and pats Josh on the back, "How is Kijuju this time of year? Or do you not visit the hometown much anymore?"
There is a long silence as they walk together toward the office that might be where he dies before Josh says bluntly, "The African Government torched it after a new bioweapon appeared amongst the populace."
"Oh, I'm so sorry man…"
"Yeah," Josh slams the door behind Rico, who silently takes a seat in the plastic chair Cranston keeps out there as his sign of 'hospitality'.
11
Sherry drops down into the lower alley behind a bistro, the front pocket of her hoodie almost bursting at the seams with cash and coin, At least they taught me one useful skill on that freighter…
While waiting for the 'trade' to go down, Sherry found herself passing the time by practicing pick-pocketing. One of the few things they gave her in her room aboard the freighter was a deck of cards, where she perfected her sleight of hand. These two skills are now allowing her to accrue enough money to get something off the ground for Chris and the others, though what that is remains lost to her. The last guy at the three-card monte table wasn't too happy that he lost, again, but Sherry was able to lose him in the busy lunch-rush crowd. Now the scrappy blonde woman slowly strolls down the darker alley, hands smashed into the hoodie pocket to keep the money hidden from any would-be muggers.
Life doesn't disappoint as she finds herself staring at a knife, "Give me whatever you got, girly…"
"Of all days, you choose today to rob me?" the mugger is taken back by her frankness, but Sherry isn't in the mood for this today.
Her mind flashes back to a memory she has of her time with Leon, and one of the defensive moves he taught her, If your arms aren't readily available, knee into the chest, then forehead into the nose.
The man lunges at her, Sherry ducking to the left, brings her right knee up hard into his stomach, and then quickly raises her head as he lowers his in pain. There is a loud crack as she breaks his nose, the man crumbling in a heap as she steps over him. Hopefully he learns a lesson from this, but deep down she knows he won't learn a damn thing. Another lesson from her time as a prisoner: people who do wrong, will continue to do wrong. It's a little blacker than what she used to think about the world, but a dark world requires a dark outlook.
"Sherry? Everything okay down here?" it's Claire, her worried face making the younger woman smile.
"Yeah, everything is fine. Do we need to go grocery-shopping?" Sherry reveals the treasure hidden within her hoodie to her friend, "I had a good day."
She watches Claire's eyes focus on the man crying in pain, "Sure seems like it, kiddo…"
11
Chris sighs as he attempts to load ANYTHING on this crappy laptop Jill swiped, "Why is nothing working on this thing!?"
"We're using stolen internet from the café I stole that laptop from… Patience, Chris," Jill stops to reconsider what she just said, "If you don't like it, then steal something better!"
He huffs and returns to the monitor, growling as his search comes up empty, "I can't find anything connecting Reed to President Benford…"
"Did you expect it to be so easy? They've been planning this for the longest time, of course they will cover their tracks. What do we know about the two of them separately?" her question strikes something inside Chris, bringing back a talk he had with Reed a while back.
"You know, he once talked about the only thing he has in common with the President. Both of them went to Ivy University, with Adam Benford putting in a good word with the Dean to get Cranston admitted," Chris turns and pulls up whatever information he can about the town of Tall Oaks.
Jill slides behind her attachment, resting her chin on his broad left shoulder as her arms snake around his chest, "Population of about seventy thousand people, seems that his election and subsequent rally against bioterror has done a lot for the city as the last few years has seen the city expand its subway system and perform several serious infrastructure upgrades. Seems he's scheduled to speak about bioterror before giving a Commencement speech at the University in the next couple days. Hold on, what's this?"
He follows her finger to an article hidden at the bottom of the Welcome to Tall Oaks website, "It seems that President Benford funded a land purchase just a mile outside the city… It covers not only the land, but anything two-hundred feet down as well."
There is a bit of silence before both of them reply, "Lab…"
END