Darkest Dreams, Brightest Hopes
Chapter Six: Timid Demands
Deep breath, release, squeeze, pull bolt back, and push bolt forward. Deep breath, release, squeeze, pull bolt back, and push bolt forward. This mantra is repeated over and over as Chris keeps one eye pressed to the scope of his rifle. He isn't sure what is going to be awaiting him down in that courtyard in his view, but he is going to be prepared for whatever might be presented by the Secret Service and his own B.S.A.A.
"You keep playing with it you are going to go blind, or it will fall off, or some other masturbatory reference," Claire leans against the open door and fidgets with the strap for her holster.
The older Redfield just holds up a middle finger and continues his movements of a deep breath, release, squeeze, pull bolt back, and push bolt forward, "Sherry came across a decent bit of information during her little poker game today. Apparently, there is a massive scramble concerning the President's trip down here. Unconfirmed threats of an unknown nature."
"Do you have anything we can actually work with?" Chris starts placing magazines under the railing as Claire steps out to meet him.
He glances up as a piece of paper is dangled just out of view, "A name? Helena Harper?" the piece of paper is flipped over, "Head of the President's Secret Service detail? You want me to press the Secret Service's number one hound for information?"
"No. I'm going. You and Jill are two of the most famous faces this side of the Atlantic and Pacific. I can slip a bit more under the radar," she swipes a hand through her now fiery-red hair, "Especially with a bit of make-up and a nice dress…"
As his sister leaves him alone on the balcony, Chris looks closer at the paper his sister handed him, "A Press Dinner?"
11
"What in the fucked up Nine Hells is this shit?"
Josh steps up to the railing, perches a foot on the lower rail, a hand on the upper rail, and peers over the edge into the water, "Looks like a breeding chamber… For the T-Abyss?"
Their escort steps up and nods slowly, "The virus is a crude, yet effective, creation. Spawned from the depths of the Trench itself. We've been trying to replicate those same conditions closer to ground level, but have as of yet been unsuccessful. So, we are forced to continue harvesting specimens from the Trench."
"Kinky and fishy, awesome," the deadpan tone from Leon is not lost on the other two, Charles taking this queue to usher the two soldiers through another door.
Leon stares down into the water as they travel across the tank, "I heard a story from Jill once about the Arklay Mansion."
"If you," Josh presses a hand into his former prisoner's chest, "are going to insinuate what I think you are, stop it right now. We don't need that kind of luck brought down upon us."
He thinks about the story he was just about to tell, feels the color fall from his face, and reinstates his 'serious face', "Yeah, let's go."
Images of Claire fill his mind as the trio crosses the murky water beneath them, her blue eyes flashing into his line of sight and almost stopping him dead in his tracks. He wonders how she is doing in her endeavor to scour the Earth for him. He stops mid-step and shakes his head before quickly making his way past Josh and up to Charles.
"Hey," his voice is soft but urgent, grabbing the older gentleman's attention, "is there a networked computer I can use?"
"What in the hell for?" Charles keeps an eye on the water for signs of movement as they continue their trek, "Don't know if you've realized this, but we are in a spot of trouble…"
"Yeah," Leon quickly opens the door and clears the room, "I know that, but is there a networked computer I can get access to?"
Charles closes the door behind them and sighs, shaking his head, "Not on this floor. We'd need to get back up the ground-levels. Sorry, but what's so important?"
"Claire," Josh steals the wind from his sails as he reloads his weapon before moving on to the next door.
The elder in the room scratches his chin and turns toward the man who just spoke, "Seriously? A woman?"
"Yup," Leon slides a fresh magazine into his handgun and kicks the next door open, "just a woman…"
11
Ada walks through the halls of Ivy University with her mind set on one thing: her destination. A quick change of outfit has allowed her to blend in with the bustling crowds as a reporter for some nondescript local news station in a state far away from here. There are B.S.A.A. and Secret Service checkpoints all over the campus, which is hindering her timeframe to the point of aggravation. You would think after a while they would just accept her presence, but alas, it is the President after all.
A gruff man wearing the B.S.A.A. standard attire glares at the Asian woman and holds out his hand, "Press pass, ma'am."
"Yeah, just like the last seven checkpoints," the badge is pulled from under her jacket and scanned by the lone Agent, "but at least you are the cutest so far," her wink is lost on him as she is waved on to the large banquet room.
Banners, balloons, and the famous colors of the American Flag fill the room before her as people work to fill tarps with confetti before strapping the bundles to the ceiling. A small breeze creeps through the hall, bringing with it the scents and smells of the chefs in the kitchen working on designing the feast that will be enjoyed here in a few hours' time. The random conversations that permeate the air mean nothing to Ada as she slips through the crowded aisles between tables. Her target comes into view, an older man who is currently pointing at a ladder and talking to a younger woman, possibly his daughter, who promptly stomps her foot and storms out of the room.
Target has the elevator keycard I need to access the parking garage that'll get me to the soccer field where Bendford is going to give his speech.
Ada prepares to swipe the keycard when suddenly she is stopped in her tracks by a woman with shoulder-length brown hair wearing slacks and a vest over her dress shirt, Secret Service… Helena Harper, if I had to venture a guess from the butch-like clothing choices.
"Carla Radames?" right, that's the name on her press badge, time to play the part.
Ada quickly flips the page on her notepad from notes on the security and possible exits and starts writing as she looks up and smiles at the Agent before her, "Yes, that's me. How can I help you?"
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but the press isn't allowed in here just yet. Security measures and all that, am sure you understand," from the tone in her voice, Ada really wants to lay money on the lesbian card, but holds off on it for now.
The spy nods politely and smiles before replying with, "I'd give you the 'people have the right to the truth' speech, but I think the public would be bored to see how cheap the decorations look. I'll see myself out…" she points toward a door, "this way?" the frown makes her hand raise up and point at the stairs, "That way, got it."
As she turns from Helena and the man with the keycard she needs, Ada secretly starts planning another route to get that keycard. If she can't get the keycard from him, maybe she can wait for him to use it and sneak into the elevator with him.
"Excuse us, ma'am, we need to get through with these tables," three men step past her as she spins to her left, watching them unlock a door that opens up to a straight shot to the field it looks like.
It can't be this easy, "Here, let me get the door for you fine gentlemen…" Ada exchanges a couple of sultry looks with the workers as they pass by.
A quick look left, a quick look right, and suddenly Ada is outside staring at the field where the bomb needs to be planted. They want the bomb placed for maximum infection, but there's only one position this bomb needs to be placed at: his podium. Attaching it to a centrally-mounted speaker in the crowd might be the most efficient way to eliminate witnesses or cross off names, but Ada knows deep down that the man truly behind this recent task has hired her to make it personal.
"Excuse me! Are you one of the communications techs?" the man with blonde hair pulled in a ponytail stops, shifts his glasses down his nose to inspect her, and huffs before nodding.
He readjusts the roll of speaker wire on his shoulder, "Yes ma'am, how can I help?"
"Secret Service is becoming a right pain in my ass, they want another check of the podium before people start filing in, mind if I just take care of that since you look so busy?"
"Whatever needs to be done to keep Agent Harper off my case, feel free to go ahead… This shit's heavy as hell…" he quickly makes his way to the tent with the rest of the equipment as Ada's eyes flash.
These people are completely fucking incompetent, holy shit it's like Cranston Reed picked them all himself, there is a surprising amount of electronic equipment hidden within the Presidential Podium that she can connect this viral payload to, but there is something that really grabs her attention.
Connected between the monitor built into the podium and the small computer apparently loaded up with his speech, is quite possibly the single crudest explosive device she's ever seen, "Fucking amateurs…"
There is a flash in her mind and she slips a small toolkit from one of the pockets of her jacket. Deft fingers slowly open the explosive and she quickly wires her device to it. This will require her to cut the explosion in half, but it's going to propel the virus so much faster than they ever could have dreamed when they assigned her to this.
This might be my best work ever…
11
Sherry watches as Jill steps into their hideout with several bags and a few boxes in her arms, "Good trip I take it?"
"Well," Jill kicks the door shut behind her and drops some of the purchase onto the couch before turning back to the blonde, "I had one outfit in mind for Claire when I went out, but you won't believe what happens when you walk into a store and actually see what's on offer."
Chris continues cleaning two handguns, but does afford a second for a witty remark, "And here I thought you were just one of the guys…"
"Fuck up my weapon and I'll show you just how much I am like one of the guys…"
"Love you too, Jill," he smirks as the two women join his sister in the other room.
Claire is sitting on the edge of the bed looking over a massive pile of makeup as Jill and Sherry enter, "What's the difference between Ruby Red and Rebellious Ruby?"
Sherry giggles as Jill sighs, "Nothing really, just the longer name gives them a reason to charge you twenty cents more… I got you a few outfit options for tonight."
Claire watches as one particular dress is pulled up, "Is that little fabric actually legal?"
Miss Valentine laughs at the response and nods, "I figured that would be a no, but you have to admit it does raise some eyebrows… I also have this."
"It can't be any more eyebrow-raising than the previous…" the younger Redfield finds herself speechless at the garment resting in her friend's arms.
"You have my attention if you bought heels to match it…" she almost giggles as Jill tosses a pair of green heels at her.
Claire slips them onto her feet, looks down at them, and takes the dress from Jill with a demand of, "Think of a hairstyle to go with this outfit! I'm going to try this on!"
The elder of the two women just smiles as Claire vanishes into the bathroom with a slam of the door, "You know something, Chris? You shouldn't doubt just how classy a tomboy can be… Even a woman who is just 'one of the guys' likes to feel pretty once in a while…"
She prays he gets the hint, but in typical Chris fashion, "Want me to bedazzle your holster?"
Sadly, he's not wrong, bedazzling her holster would help; she'll never tell him though.
11
Leon drops another empty magazine to the ground before slamming another one into his magnum as another of the brackish creatures explodes from the last shot he fired, "I guess they weren't kidding…"
"I don't even want to ask," Josh stomps on the head of another creature, "but I know you are going to say this ridiculous pun anyway…"
"I guess there are plenty of fish in the sea," the older of the two B.S.A.A. Agents smiles wide as Josh groans heavily.
Another creature erupts from a tank of chemicals, screeching like a banshee before making a mad dash to the two Agents. Leon spins around quickly, slamming the heel of his right foot into the face of the monster as Josh drops two rounds into the legs to knock it off balance. Blood coats the floor as the creature drops to the ground, headless.
"Still holding to the relief that these things just die when the head gets removed…" Leon picks up the empty magazine and slips it into a slot on the back of his belt.
The West African Agent refills a magazine before returning it to his pouch, "You'll need to tell me just what you saw in Spain, Kennedy. I'm really curious about the kind of monsters that are out in the world."
Charles steps up and tilts his head toward a door, "I don't know exactly why you need it, but this is going to be the only hard-lined computer in the facility."
"Director's office, fancy…" Leon leans in and reads the name on the door, which takes him only slightly by surprise, "Cranston Reed… Mother fucker."
"He is the Director of the B.S.A.A. and finances bioterror?" Josh steps up to open the door, "Someone likes to have their hands in both cookie jars…"
Leon scowls and kicks the door open, "Let's just find the computer I'm looking for and then we can torch this place to the-" he stops, closes his eyes slowly, and sighs before, "bottom of the water-filled lake… Damn it I should think before I drop quips like that…"
Leon drops into the leather chair, stares at the B.S.A.A. emblem spinning on the screen of the computer, and slams a finger onto the mouse, waking the terminal up, "Any idea what his password is?"
Josh turns towards the older man and smirks, "What? Haven't you tried 'KennedyisUgly87'?"
"Got in," he peers over the monitor and smiles, "CalicoL0ve14, believe it or not."
Charles leans against the door and chuckles, "Man, you really don't know someone…"
Private tab, email server, login, and a new email from KennedyFan01, interesting, Hey, Leon. Sitting here missing you after our brief time together. Are we ever going to take that second train ride? God I feel like such a girl you know? If trains aren't your thing, we can go jet-skiing. Or diving… It doesn't matter to me what we do, as long as I get to see you again. Things are going well here, it's a busy time, people everywhere, but my brother is planning a stop at the largest oak tree forest in the country, joy… Well, take care Leon and I hope you still have hope and light… Love, C.
Claire… his heart skips a beat at the message; she found a way to reach him, with a bit of info too.
"Find what you are looking for?" Charles steps up toward him, but he is held back by Josh.
Leon stands up from the desk, deletes the email, purges the history, and for good measure, he wipes his bloody feet on the soft leather of Cranston's personal chair, "We need to get to Tall Oaks as soon as possible. Any way we can make that happen?"
"Are you kidding?" Charles has the most deadpan expression on his face, "Yeah, we'll just go down to the lowest level, find the executive hangar with the sub that will take us to the surface, turn into a plane, and take off."
Josh chuckles at this, but gasps as Leon asks, "So, that's a no?"
The elderly man nods slowly, "Yeah, that'd be a no…" his eyes flash, "Although, we can get to the surface, take a boat to one of the tourist ports on the lake. One of them is bound to have a seaplane."
Leon's eyes flash as he runs some numbers, "That seaplane would get us over the mountains and near Tall Oaks in about four hours, right?"
Charles nods, taken off-guard again as the once-captured agent steps up to him, "Get us to the surface. Josh, work on downloading everything on his computer. Everything, especially what's in the recycle bin."
"On it," Josh leans under the desk, pries the cover off the side of the computer, and pulls the hard drive out, "finished the download. Do we have a plan to get out of here yet?"
Charles works with his laptop and nods appropriately, "Freight elevator two floors up should get us near the surface."
"What in the hell do you mean by 'near the surface'?"
The next sentence makes Leon wish they would've just killed him, "Supplies are dropped at a very specific point in the lake, sinks down, lands on top of the elevator shaft, and then it opens up, lowers down, and drains the water."
END