Jennifer Farce chugged her glass of water after taking two strong painkillers. She had a headache that could kill an elephant. She had been looking at her case files for far too long. She had a mission to accomplish; she was the best in her department. Jennifer was a six-year veteran in the FBI. She handled top-notch cases that sometimes were a matter of national security.
Right now she was working on catching the fugitive S.T.A.R.S. that were on the run. All of the trouble had started out in Raccoon City, but there had been reports of other such cases around the world. She had detailed background information about each and every one of the S.T.A.R.S. members involved. She was hot on their tails too. She had actually stood in one of their hideouts. Her orders were to arrest each member from the bigwigs in the FBI. She had planned on doing just that but something had changed her mind.
She shuddered at the mere thought of the man. She still didn't know how long he'd been in the room before she'd discovered his presence or if he was there before her.
He probably knew I was coming—he was probably waiting for me.
Trent, if that was indeed his real name, had given her secret files from a branch of the pharmaceutical corporation called Umbrella. Actually, it was a top-secret branch of Umbrella that dealt with computer technology, military technology and supplies and finally, chemical and biological weaponry. The pictures of the creatures were still fresh in her mind. They all had technical, biological names like T-121 but they had nicknames that seemed more appropriate.
Licker, Dac, Scorp, Spitter, Tyrant, Nemesis, Cerberus—creepy.
She had been carrying hardcore proof of Umbrella's illegal activity. She asked Trent that if he had such beef on Umbrella to help the S.T.A.R.S. bring it down, and he had files that could shut them down, why didn't he. He smiled and told her to destroy the files without showing them to anyone in her bureau. She had asked why and he told her that Umbrella had the FBI on their payroll. The big decision-makers were paid big to help keep Umbrella's activities secret. She did research in the treasury department to discover that one of the primary contributors to the FBI was a dummy corporation called Lighthouse Pharmaceuticals. She did research and discovered this was a corporation owned directly by Umbrella Inc.
Tough break.
She knew there was one person that she could trust. Jerry Perkins, her boss, would never accept money from Umbrella. She had showed him the files just before she shredded them. She had also put in her early retirement notice for the FBI. Jennifer didn't need the money. She loved the job; it was her life. Her father was wealthy and he married an even wealthier woman after Jennifer's mother died. Jennifer was up to her ears in inheritance since her father and stepmother had died.
She had a crazy idea stored up inside of her and she was more than ready to hop on it. Jennifer had always had a strong sense of justice, one too strong for her own good. She knew deep inside that there was evil that lurked in the ranks of Umbrella. She was going to expose them for what they really were to the world. It would be sublime. She needed proof of her own. If she could infiltrate one of the key Umbrella labs and collect some hard data with photographs and computer files, she could bring them to the justice system. It would work—she had to trust in that.
She was packing the last of her things. She and Jerry were going to Paris, France. They'd discovered that there was an island just south of the mainland. It was called Torel. Umbrella had an immense militia station there, along with a huge experimentation laboratory. What haunted Jennifer was the prison. There was a small-scale prison right there on the island. It was full of Umbrella's enemies. She had to wonder what kind of torture those poor men and women endured. She would find out when she went there. She would gather all kinds of hard data. She would see to the undoing of this company. Her cell phone rang. It was Jerry.
"Talk to me," she said.
"I'm ready."
"Me too."
"You sure?"
"Don't patronize me, Jerry. I'm ready for this."
"We don't know what we're getting ourselves into yet. Are you sure this is worth it?" Jerry asked.
"You don't have to go," she offered.
"I'm begging you to stay. I don't want you to get killed and I certainly don't want to die," he added.
"There are things worse than death," Jennifer said.
"Oh yeah, what's that?"
"Justice that has not been served," she replied coldly.
"Still trying to live in your father's shoes?" Jerry asked with a certain agitation in his voice.
"I'm not trying to live in them, but he wouldn't be a bad person to model myself off of," Jennifer said.
"So take all that damn money and go to law school, Jen! Be a lawyer like your old man and serve some justice. You'd be hella good at it!" Jerry was yelling into the phone.
"He had his way of serving justice, this is mine," she said flatly.
"Jennifer…" he started.
"No. You can't talk me out of it. If you don't want to come that's fine. I wouldn't hold it against you. You have a lot to lose. You have Alma and the kids," Jennifer said. She was now half-hoping that he would back down. She knew better.
"No. I can't let you do this alone. If you believe in this so much then you can count me in, right there beside you," Jerry said.
"Thank you, Jerry," Jennifer added quietly.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Jerry said.
"Okay, buy," she said.
"Bye, kiddo," he replied with an unseen smile that she knew was really there.
Jerry and Jennifer had been inseparable since the day that Jennifer got signed on for homicide six year earlier. Before Jerry had got his promotion and became her boss, they'd been partners. They'd also had an affair.
She could still smell his sweaty body up against hers. She could taste the salt on his lips. Their sex was very wild, hard and animal-like. It was, she thought of a word to describe it.
Primal.
She remembered the waves of warmth that washed over her body when he touched her. It was fun; it was euphoric. It wasn't an affair really, she thought after a while. They'd had sex one time and it was a spur of the moment thing. They'd only spoken of it a few times. She knew that he was a married man and loved his wife and kids very much. Alma would leave him if she found out. It had been more than five years since it had happened. Jennifer wondered if Jerry felt guilty about it. She'd have to ask him.
They didn't look like they belonged together anyway. Jerry was a tall, strong, black man with a deep, booming voice. His arms, legs chest and even back were unrealistically hairy. He looked like a big black bear. His hair was so kept so short that he didn't even need to comb it in the morning.
He probably doesn't even have to dry it.
Jennifer was short and athletic. She had long, blonde hair that was one length. She had green eyes and a perfect, fleshy tone for skin. Her voice was soft and gentle. Even if she were to violently scream at someone she sounded as if she had just increased the volume of her voice. She hated it. She tried her best to hide or alter it. It proved to be no use.
Jerry was her best friend despite him being ten years her senior. She couldn't define the relationship that they had. Sometimes, they were friends, sometimes they were father and daughter, and one time, they were lovers. She loved him, though she was the furthest thing from in love with him. They looked like total opposites of each other.
There was an unfamiliar knock at the door. Jennifer chambered a round in her Glock 17 and tucked it in the back of her pants. She had no peephole that would let her see who was outside. With one hand on the gun she opened the door just a hair and she nearly cried out when she realized who it was.
Leon brought the jeep to slow, screeching stop. The screech could even be heard over the Linkin Park CD in the player. He was in an alley in New York City. He was next to a warehouse that had to be abandoned. There, as Trent had told him, was the garage entrance into the warehouse. It was not as Trent had told him, open. Leon put the car in park and leaned his head back against the headrest. It had been a long trip from Utah to New York. He flew to St. Louis first and then finally to New York. Instead of getting a rental car, Trent had given him the keys to a red jeep that he promised to Leon.
He probably bought it just so that I could use it. What kind of person has money like that to spare?
The jeep was new too. It had exactly seven miles on the odometer when Leon started it up and looked at the digital counter. He smiled when he saw it. It was everything that his old jeep was not. It was new, didn't smell and had a great system and a CD player in it.
It still had not clicked to him that he was going to reunite himself with Ada. He'd accepted it as fact that she was long-gone and buried under what remained of Raccoon City. How could she have escaped? It wasn't too hard to assume that there was another way out of the Umbrella lab. She could've left the way the rest of them had come in. There wouldn't have been time though. He wanted answers. That was all that he knew for certain. Was she able to retrieve the G-virus sample that he'd thrown down after her? Was she able to get to it and take it to Umbrella so that she could collect her pay? What did he care?
He turned the music off. He didn't feel like listening to it right then. He didn't feel like listening to it in the first place. He'd done it to feel normal. He turned it on in hopes that he would get into the beat and forget that Umbrella wanted him dead. It had barely fazed him. Nothing could silence the questions in his head.
Out of nowhere the garage door bolted up and an unusually bright light beamed out at Leon. There, stood the silhouette of a woman that recognized all to easily. He still stared in disbelief as she stepped forward. She was dressed in black cargo pants and a black tank top. Her hair was longer than Leon last remembered her and had streaks of a lighter color in it. Her face was utterly unchanged. She was still as deceptively beautiful as Leon remembered her. She motioned for him to pull the jeep in and he did as instructed.
The garage door closed behind him. He got out of the car to face her, unsure of what to expect. She looked upon him, smiled forcefully.
"Hello, Leon," she said, with also an unchanged voice. Hearing her voice was like listening to a tape recording of someone's voice that had died. It was like hearing from the realm of the dead. It was eerie.
"Ada," he said. There stood there for a moment, facing each other, staring into each other's eyes.
"I escaped the lab," she said. He fought the urge to laugh. He did smile a little.
"Apparently."
"I'm glad to see you again," she said. He could tell that she was hoping he'd return the phrase. He fought the urge and forced himself to remain cold.
"I have questions."
"I have answers, Leon. There will be plenty of time for that. Come here," she said. Although she had instructed him to come to her she advanced upon him. He felt his feet move involuntarily and he embraced her. She returned it. It felt right and yet so wrong at the same time. It was like hugging the dead; like hugging a zombie. His mouth went dry and her held her tighter.
"I'm back," she whispered in his ear.
"I know—I know," he replied.
Jill sat restlessly in the car. She was in the back seat. Barry and Chris were in the front.
"Barry, faster!" She protested.
He gave her look in the rearview mirror that told her to cool it. She had to admit that she sounded like a little kid. She was being ridiculous. Trent had given them the call that their friends were in danger. They were heading straightaway to the hotel. Chris looked even more restless than Jill felt. He was scared for his little sister, Claire. Jill had never met Claire but she'd heard plenty and seen just as many pictures. Claire was all that Chris had in life as far as family went. He loved her more than the air in his own lungs.
Jill could only hope that everything was going to be okay. She sat back in the car and tried the phone call one more time. This time she wasn't calling David. She was calling the new recruit, Sean Chester. He had a personal cell phone that he carried on him. She knew that it was dangerous to call a cell phone from a commercial account that could be traced but Jill was desperate. She knew that the guys wouldn't object to her calling anyway.
The hotel was in sight but Jill let the ringing continue. Abruptly someone answered the phone.
"Hello?" said the voice half-demanding a reply.
"Chester?"
"Depends on who this is," said the voice.
"February Fourteenth," she said, hoping he was bright enough to catch the code on the first try.
"Valentine," he said. "What's your twenty?"
"Eagle's nest," she said shortly.
"Be there in twenty minutes."
"Anyone with you?"
"Just the usual three," he said. The usual three, meaning me, myself and I, was code for saying that he was alone.
She hung up without saying goodbye.
Shit.
Claire wasn't with him. She hoped, for Chris's sake that nothing had happened to her. She didn't want anything to happen to any of them but Chris cared only about Claire at this point. Whether she was safe or not was all that mattered to him. Jill knew and understood this. Part of her was jealous that she could not share a place in Chris's heart like Claire. She didn't want to replace Claire but she just wished sometimes—
They were at the hotel. Barry parked and the three of them went into the hotel. There were police and ambulances there—not a good sign. They knew for fact that everyone else was in rooms A-17 and A-18. Jill walked in and turned to the right, following the signs. She was ahead of the guys but Chris ran past her in a panic.
"Claire? CLAIRE?" he screamed. There was blood all over the open door and the wall closest to it. The room they were staring in was in disarray. There were the bodies of men in black suits scattered here and there. The police and ambulances had not yet come into the hotel to investigate. Jill, Chris and Barry were the luck ones to witness the scene first. They looked all about and discovered that there was no sign of any of sign of their friends. All of their clothes and toiletries were unpacked but they were nowhere to be seen.
Jill took a certain curiosity at the splash of blood in the room. It was a knife wound without doubt. If the dead body of the man killed by it were not there she still would have been able to tell. It splashed in a line like it'd been flung from a knife blade.
Chris let out a defeated sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"We can't stay here," Barry said.
"We have to wait for Chester," Chris objected.
"We'll wait in the lobby. We can't stay in here. It's too suspicious," Barry said putting his hand upon Chris's shoulder. Jill knew it was of no comfort to Chris. His priority was finding Claire.
They left the room and entered the lobby. They sat down and said nothing. They waited a half hour and there was still no sign of Chester. They'd watched the ambulances carry out the bodies of what were most likely Umbrella assassins in body bags on stretchers. Jill felt guilty about feeling no remorse for the men's deaths. They belonged to Umbrella, which was her enemy. Therefore, they were her enemies. It sounded so heartless in her head to think of the loss of human life so lightly. Her war against Umbrella had changed her into a different person.
Finally, Sean Chester walked into the door. Jill had never met the man. She's seen a picture. The only one who'd met him personally was Barry. He was even better looking in person than he was in the picture. It was that blonde hair. He looked like he'd come from another world. They motioned for him to come closer. He advanced and looked at them angrily.
"We can't stay here! Umbrella could be back soon to collect the rest of us," he said. They didn't object. They all shared the same notion just to go to the car and drive away. The four of them filed out to the black sedan. They didn't speak until they were around the corner of the hotel.
"What happened?" Chris demanded turning around in the seat to face Sean. He was sitting in the back with Jill.
Jill's eyes watered a little when he told them the story of the assassins. They had to have been from Umbrella. He said that they were shooting tranquilizer darts. He said that he knew for sure that they'd got David and John.
"Claire and I jumped out the window and split up as soon as we hit the ground. I ran for the park and didn't stop until I got there. That was not less than forty minutes ago," he said.
"Why'd you split up?" Chris said. Jill could nearly taste his agony.
"I don't know. It just happened that way. We didn't decide to split up. We were both running for our lives. We didn't even have time to look back and see if anyone had escaped," Sean continued.
"So she's somewhere in this city?" Chris said. He looked at Barry hopefully.
"We'll look. Of course we'll look," Barry said.
No sooner than he spoke the window exploded with a gunshot from the SUV next to them. It was Umbrella.
"GO!" Jill found herself shouting. Barry floored the accelerator. Chris was already upholstering his Glock. Barry grabbed for his Colt Python and Jill for her own Beretta. She handed Sean her thirty-eight backup. They passed the SUV. They were lucky to have not been hit with the bullets from the shot. The back windshield exploded with a horrible sound. Glass hit the back of Jill's neck and slid down into her shirt. She unbuckled herself and turned, gun poised, ready to fire. Sean followed her example. She started firing at the windshield of the SUV. The bullets bounced away easily. It was bulletproof. Jill cursed unconsciously. She ducked down and let Sean give it a go. On his first try he hit a tire. Jill knew because she could here the rubbing. She looked up and watched him fire the more powerful thirty-eight at the windshield. It cracked but didn't go through. The driver and passenger of the SUV shot aimlessly out the window in the general direction of the car with automatic weapons.
She watched as Sean took careful aim and fired again. To her astonishment the second round had hit only millimeters away from the first. He did it again with the same results. It clicked in Jill's mind what he was trying to do. He was trying to make the glass penetrable. He fired the remaining shots to no avail.
"Barry can I see your Python please?" Sean asked. Jill thought it was funny that he'd actually taken the precious time to say please. Barry tossed the powerful, magnum revolver to Sean.
"Watch this," he said to Jill. He closed one eye and pulled the trigger of the gun. The windshield gave way and the top of the driver's head disappeared. The SUV swerved to the side and smashed into the concrete barrier. It flipped up in the air, landed upside down. Sean fired again, this time at the gas tank of the SUV. It exploded with a violent, hot shockwave. Sean smiled and let out a laugh.
"Fuckers!" he exulted. Jill didn't know what to be more surprised about, Sean's murderous attitude towards their pursuers or his unruly accuracy with a revolver. He was even in a bouncy, moving car. Chris was the best shot that Jill had ever seen with any gun. Sean took the cake as far was accuracy went.
"I don't think they'll be bothering us anymore," Sean said. "Sorry I cursed, Miss Valentine. No offense intended," he said. She laughed out loud.
"None taken. You really nailed those…those…" she stared.
"Fuckers?" Barry offered.
"Yeah. You really nailed those fuckers," Jill said.
"Yeah, well they had it coming. We need to find out where they took David and John—and possibly Rebecca," Sean pointed out.
"What about Claire?" Chris said frantically.
"I'm sure she's fine," Sean said.
"Fine? Umbrella is out there and they are looking for her too. If they find her they will kill her!" Chris was in a rage.
"Chris…" Jill started.
"No!" he silenced her. "We have to go back for her."
There was a silence. Everyone else knew to go back would be suicide. Jill also knew that to not go back was abandonment.
"She knows your cell phone number. She'll call," Sean offered.
"Let me out," Chris said.
"What?" Barry demanded.
"OUT! NOW!" Chris screamed. Barry obediently pulled the car over.
"I'm going to find her. I'll call you and we'll arrange a safe pickup for the both of us," Chris said getting out of the car. Jill got out too.
"Chris…" she said.
"Don't try to talk me out of it. I've made up my mind. You can't come with me either," he added.
"I just wanted to tell you that I…good luck," she said. She was going to say that she loved him. She'd kept a secret for too long. Somehow, he was able to read her. He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. She returned the kiss.
"Thank you. Stay safe," he said.
"You too," she returned.
"Always."
And with that she watched Chris jog away into the night not knowing if she would ever see him again. She could only hope. She could only hope that he'd be okay.
Claire was in a car and was driving towards the Umbrella Headquarters. She had to find Chris. She had a feeling that she could wait for him there. In truth, she didn't know what she was doing. She had stolen a car, a gun and was on her way into the enemy's lair. She wasn't going to just march right in. She was going to do what she could to sneak in and see if there was a way to destroy it from within. She could hope for a self-destruction mechanism.
What am I doing? Where am I going?
She clutched her gun in her hand. It was the only way of defending herself she had left. She pulled the car over into an off road trail. She had to get some sleep before she was going to march in on Umbrella.
Part of her wanted to go back to the hotel and wait for Chris. She knew he'd be there. She also knew that big, scary men in black suits with dart guns wanted to get her. She'd stood and watched as they hauled out David—then John—then Rebecca. Claire was about to leave, know that she could do nothing. They hauled out one more person. Claire didn't know who it was. He was young, her age perhaps, and he was unconscious like the others. Who was he? Did it really matter? He was as good as dead now.
She found herself going to sleep with only one name on her lips and in her mind. It was not the person that she thought she'd be thinking about. She thought she'd be worried only about Chris as she had been for a month. She could still smell his soapy smell amidst the smell of rotting flesh. She could still see his reddish hair that hanged down on either side of his face.
Leon…
Jennifer stared Trent in the face for the second time in her life and was sorry to have to do it.
"May I come in, Miss Farce?" Trent asked jovially.
"By all means," she said and opened the door wider. "What's this about?"
"The S.T.A.R.S. have been captured by Umbrella—some of them anyway," he replied.
"Which ones and how many?" she asked.
"What does it matter?" he asked.
"You're going to tell me where they are and help me bust them out, right?" she asked.
"Maybe, but I want to know why you think that," he looked troubled. This seemed unnatural too. When she'd met him before all he did was smile relentlessly. He smiled with that sneering, eerie smile.
"I don't know the details but you have something against Umbrella. I don't care what or why. You need the S.T.A.R.S. to do your dirty work. It's part of your revenge. Now that they are captured you need me and Jerry to go and rescue them, don't you?" he was beyond troubled. For a moment, he looked flabbergasted. Then, the smile crept its way onto his face one more time.
"Yes. You intrigue me more than you could understand, Miss Farce. You have an uncanny talent for reading people and you've almost got me figured out. That's besides the point. In this folder is everything that you need to know. You need to leave as soon as possible," Trent said.
"We already have tickets for Paris," she protested.
"You're still going to Paris, Ms. Farce. Just read. I must go before Mr. Perkins gets here. He doesn't take well to strange men on his turf. Au revoir," he said. With that he left. She opened the file and looked at the first page of the papers.
"Torel Island," she said out loud. If she had known what was lying in wait for her and Jerry there, she would have thrown the papers into her fireplace and forgot about it. If she'd have known it would have been safer to waltz up to the Umbrella HQ, knock on the door and ask to be let in she would have done it. Nothing, could have prepared her for what she was going to witness at Torel—absolutely nothing.