The room was white. Everything was white. The table, chairs and walls. The light buzzing overhead was fluorescent. Exactly the right kind to give someone a splitting headache. In fact it was giving someone a headache. Sitting on one side of the table, just in front of a giant mirror, was a man dressed in a black suit and tie and actually was the only thing contrasting the white. He was staring at a female. In front of him, was a folder opened up to the center. He was constantly rummaging through the papers and photos as he continued to occasionally glance at the female in front of him.

She sat motionless. Her brunette hair resting softly on her shoulder on her side. Her leg was up, protruding from the white gown she was wearing. This type of gown was not uncommon, though it was normally used for hospital patients. Despite the dark circles around her eyes and the few bruises and scratches on her arms and face, she was extremely attractive. Her eyes were staring right back at the man in front of her. She watched him shift his eyes to her legs as she followed his gaze down. Even though he hadn't said a word, she knew what he was looking at. She didn't care. It wasn't her fault all she had on was her gown. She kept her eyes on his as they kept staring at the open section between the gown and her legs.

The man looked back up at her and quickly shifted his eyes to meet hers. He didn't care. He just looked at her smugly and flicked a small grin. He took a sip of his coffee and began to look at more files and photos. He put one of the photos down and looked back her again. This time, he spoke.

"I really don't understand why you aren't being more cooperative with us. If you would just answer the questions, you can get back to your room. Possibly even let out of here. But I assure you that until you do, you aren't going to be going anywhere." He said staring at her deeply. You might say there was a look of concern in his eyes, but never the less, this was his job. Putting on a face was what this man was all about.

The female just stared blankly at him. The man turned around looking at the giant mirror, and just shook his head. He turned back around to face her. When he did, she moved both of her legs up to the chair this time, exposing again the spot that the man quickly placed his gaze upon. The female noticed instantly and just smiled. 'What is she playing at?' the man thought to himself. 'Is this just some ploy to keep her from talking?' The woman put her legs down now and leaned into the table.

"If you aren't going to be of any help, we might as well have the orderlies come back in here and help you back to your room. That is, if you want to spend another night of being constantly bound and drugged. Then again, if you help me, I can help you." He paused. "Seriously Miss Redfield, this isn't some kind of game. Someone's life is at stake and if you don't help us then…" He was cut off by a raspy voice.

"What did you say your name was again?" The voice said.

"Clinton Portis." The man answered back, shocked.

"Who did you say you worked for again?" The voice said again. This time sounding more clearer.

"Miss Redfield, I really don't like having to repeat myself. As I stated when I entered the room, I work for the CIA. I'm here because we have reason to believe that you know the whereabouts of Sherry Birkin and your brother Chris Redfield." He said but was cut off by some giggling.

"You won't find either one of them." She said.

Claire Redfield had seen better days. In fact she had seen better months. But as she sat there looking at the man in front of her, all she could think about doing was laughing.

"Why do you say that?" Portis asked her.

"Because, if you can't find them there are only two things that could have happened." Claire answered still giggling.

"Dare I ask what you mean by that?" Clinton asked again, this time being more intuitive.

"If you can't find them, then they're either already being held captive by Umbrella or…" she trailed off for a second.

"Or…Or what?"

"Or they are both already dead. But then again, if the CIA was so interested in finding them, surely you would know if they were dead. You wouldn't be supposedly wanting my help. Unless…" She paused.

"Unless what, Miss Redfield?" Portis asked intently.

"Do you have any cigarettes?" She asked him.

Portis took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat pocket and slid them over to her. Claire reached for them and lit one up. She inhaled and blew out the smoke in to his eyes.

"Unless what. Are you going to tell me?" Clinton asked again, this time getting a little more angry with her.

"Unless there is another reason as to why you are here. Don't think I don't know how far the federal government's pocket book goes. I'm not that stupid." She paused again to take another drag. "Umbrella doesn't give up that easily." She said flicking her ash on the floor.

"Claire, really. By now you should surely know that the Umbrella Corporation is no longer around. The government cut there funding. Despite so called radicallistic movements, there is no more Umbrella. I can assure you of that." Portis said sipping his coffee. His tone was getting sterner now.

"You really think you know everything don't you Claire?" he said.

Claire just looked at him. Despite the feelings in her gut, she knew what he said was true. It was only till a few months ago that she had heard about Leon's escapade in Europe involving the Presidents daughter. She knew Umbrella was no more, but something deep down inside her was telling her that they were still around. She knew that Chris still had an unsettled score with someone she had never met, only someone she had heard him talk about, Albert Wesker.

Oh yes, Chris had explained everything to her about the incident in the Arklay Mountains in 1998 involving S.T.A.R.S. and Wesker. Wesker had sold out his comrades. Put Chris's life as well as others in danger. It was only just a day after the incident when she came looking for him. That was when she met Leon and happened to fall headfirst into a conspiracy involving Raccoon City and what was then, the thriving business known as Umbrella Corp. Shortly after that, six months or so, she was caught invading the Paris branch of Umbrella. After being captured and sent to Rockfort Island, she was able to escape and uncover the truth of the Ashford family and Umbrella. It wasn't until being caught again trying to disrupt Umbrella's apparent rise to power again, she was whisked away to the insane asylum where she now sits, in Seattle Washington.

"So, Claire." Portis started again, "are you going to help me out here or am I just chasing a dead rabbit?"

"What exactly do you think I could possibly know?" She asked again, this time flicking the cigarette on the floor and quickly lighting up another one.

"Where is Sherry Birkin and your brother?" Portis asked again.

"I told you, if they aren't dead already, then they have been captured and are about to be dead." She said with no remorse.

"Perhaps I could use other methods. You do know I can make you talk if I want too, right?" he said threateningly.

"Seriously Mr. Portis, If you had planned on drugging me, you would have already done so." She said smiling.

"Perhaps, I already have." He said smiling evilly now as he glanced over to the pack of cigarettes. Claire turns her eyes from his to the pack as well. She looks down at them and then back to the one she is holding. She stares at it for a few moments and her head starts to spin. The light from her smoke starts getting fuzzy and she begins to see tracers. Everything is moving slower now as she fights to keep her head from falling down. Her eyes are getting extremely heavy. She can make out laughter that is now somehow echoing in her brain. She slowly looks up at Portis, who is now walking over to her.

"Wh…what…did…did you do…to me." Claire mumbles.

"Clearly Claire, you don't think that a man of my stature would not come prepared. Since I figured it would be dangerous to let them bring you hot coffee, for fear of you burning me, I was able to lace those cigarettes." He said chuckling. "But then again, how could you, poor little Claire Redfield had caught on. Of course, perhaps you haven't thought of everything." He finished. He turned her chair around to face him.

Fighting to stay awake, Claire was now looking straight at Clinton, her head feeling light as a feather. Portis had pulled his seat over to face her and placed his hands on the armrests of her chair. He was looking deep into her eyes. He was staring menacingly at her for a moment before he spoke.

"Now, are you going to cooperate with me?" He asked her.

"Yes." Claire answered softly.

"Good." Portis said. He was now looking down at Claire's legs again. This time, though, he moved his hands down onto her legs and slowly moved them apart.

"Claire, we are going to play a little game. Every time I think you are lying to me, I move my hands up your legs. If I think you are telling the truth, I move my hands the opposite direction. If my hands get to there final destination, something very, very bad will happen. Let's just hope that you tell me everything I want to know. Understood?" He said moving his hand up slowly.

"Yes." Claire said, weeping.

"Good. Now tell me why you were brought here." Portis asked.

Claire let out a sob and looked directly Portis. As much as she could anyway. The drug had taken full affect over her. She sat there for a few moments and said nothing. Until she felt his hands move up her legs again, closer she spoke.

"6 months ago." She said softly.

"6 moths ago. Ok, why?" Portis asked again.

"I was caught snooping around an abandoned Umbrella facility. I had reason to believe that it was still being used as a training facility."

"A training facility for what, Claire?" He asked her, staring deep into her eyes, moving his hands up slowly again.

"For Bio-Mechanical Weapons. A tip-off from an undisclosed source said that despite Umbrella going bankrupt, they were being backed by an unknown organization. They were still producing. I went alone to stop it." She said looking at him hazily.

"Then what happened?"

"The informant, turned out to be fake. It was a trap. To lure me and my brother and the others out of hiding for some unknown reason. It worked." Claire answered, a tear building up in her eye.

"You don't know the reason?" Portis asked, moving his hands up slowly again.

"No…please…don't." Claire stammered, choking up. She could feel his hand getting closer now. She was scared. There was no telling what he was planning to do. Even in her drugged state, she didn't want to be touched like that. Not in this way.

"Claire, tell me or I get closer." Portis said quietly.

"As…as far as we knew, the federal government wanted us for questioning about the incidents in Raccoon City, Paris and Rockfort Island. Initially, it was a placed cover-up, until a government official was murdered." Claire said quietly.

"Yes, Senator Denton. He was very well known for his support in state of the art bio-weaponry. So it wasn't you that killed him?" He asked her.

"No, I had nothing to do with it. None of us did."

"I'm curious, when you refer to 'us' and 'we' are you talking about…" he was cut off by her answer.

"Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveria and Rebecca Chambers." Claire answered quickly, hoping his hands would move back.

"I see. Do you know where they are?" Portis asked, this time moving his hands back, like he had promised.

"No, I haven't seen them since the night I was captured and brought here." Claire said relieved that his hands had moved away from her slightly.

"I don't believe you. I think they are hiding with Chris and Sherry." Portis said, moving his hands back up again, this time closer. Only a few more inches to go and he was there. You can't say that he wasn't pleased at this. Deep down, this is what he wanted. He didn't care if it was sick and twisted, he liked this. This wasn't the first time he had done this either. He remembered a few months ago doing the same thing to another young woman. Drugging her to get what he needed and getting what else he needed while she was still drugged. This was what he did, and he thought he was damn good at it.

"Please, don't touch me like that." Claire pleaded with him. He was extremely closer now and it wouldn't be too long before he was there.

"Then tell me what I want to know. Where are the others? Where is your brother and Sherry Birkin? Where is Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveria and Rebecca Chambers? Why were you the only one captured?" He asked finally.

"I…I…was captured because I…I…had tried to destroy the building. I must have set off a silent alarm. They knew I was coming. The informant, as I said, was fake, I was trapped, tricked, framed for murdering Senator Denton." She said.

"The others then?" He asked getting his hand ready for one final movement.

"I don't…know where they are." She said, this time, tears falling from her eyes. With that, she felt his hands touch her. They reached their destination. She let out cry and began crying harder. It didn't feel good. It didn't hurt either. She didn't like it. She was being defiled. She wanted to stop, but there was nothing she could do. Claire, for the first time in her life, was completely helpless.

"Tell me Claire, just tell me and I can stop this. That is…if you want me to stop. I must confess it will be kind of hard. It is an incredible sensation, I must say." Portis said sadistically.

"You pervert!' Claire screamed at him. She tried to move but the drug had too much control over her.

"Tell me Claire!" Portis said, his eyes changing from dark brown to bright red. Claire saw this and started to cry harder. She was freaked out. She had seen this before. No, she hadn't, but Chris had. He explained it to her. They were the same as…as…Weskers! 'He's here isn't he!' she thought shocked. 'He's watching me right now through that mirror. Enjoying every bit of it! That sadistic prick!'

"Claire, if you don't tell me, this will get a whole lot worse…" Portis's voice trailed off in astonishment. He felt something different. Something that brought a smile to his face. Claire noticed this and tried to move. He quickly moved his fingers again and it made her yelp.

"Now, I don't think you will want to make this situation get any worse than it already is." He started as he lifted up his other free hand in front of her face. She looked at his hand and his fingernails began growing. They stopped about six inches from the tips of his skin. "Impressive, isn't it. In case you happen to be wondering, I can do it with both hands so if you don't want things to get messy in here, you better tell me where your friends are." He said this time more menacing than ever.

"Just please stop, I will tell you all I know." She gasped as she felt something scrape quickly inside her.

"Well?" Portis asked, his red eyes blazing now.

"Steve's Bar." She spat.

"Steve's Bar?" Portis asked confused. "Are you lying to me?" Claire let out a loud scream and yelled back at him with all she had.

"No you little fuck! All I know is Steve's Bar! Now get your fucking hands out of me right now!" She said trying to move.

"Not until you tell me where the hell it is!" he fired back at her, this time slowly making his nails reduce in size.

"It's here…here in Washington." She said crying more profusely now.

"Thank you dear. Pity that I have to stop. Someone will be extremely happy to know this." He said getting up and grabbing a handkerchief out of his inside coat pocket and wiping his hands off. He stood up and walked behind Claire, she was still crying. Portis lowered his head down behind hers and began to inhale her fumes.

"I know something about you, that some people here don't. But they will find out sooner or later. Thank you for the information. I know I promised if you cooperated I could get you out of here. Well you see…I lied. Forgive me." He finished as he kissed the back of her neck and then licked her cheek.

"You…you don't know it yet, but you are already dead." Claire retorted, as strongly as she could.

"Please Claire, I don't think there is anything you can do about the present situation." Portis replied as he grabbed his file and walked out the door. Claire sat there, her head falling down and she began to weep as she slowly passed out.

Portis had walked from the room with Claire into the viewing room immediately. Inside was a familiar person with a familiar voice. He looked at Portis with the same red eyes behind his black sunglasses.

"Was that really necessary?" Said the voice.

"It got it out of her didn't it?" Portis replied.
"Need I remind you, that we are under strict orders that she was not to be touched or harmed in anyway? Or did you forget that?" The asked him.

"I knew exactly what I was doing" Portis replied.

"Fine, but know this, step out of line again and it will be the last time. I won't hesitate to kill you." The voice started, "Now, try to locate this bar Claire spoke of immediately. I have some unfinished business to take care of." He said.

Portis began to walk out the door. He stopped and put on a pair of black sunglasses and moved his head to one side until a loud crack was heard coming from his neck. He did the same to the other and then turned his head towards the man.

"Fine. Oh and Wesker?" Portis said.

"Yes?" He replied.

"Tell the boss, Redfield's pregnant." Portis said as he walked out the door leaving the silhouetted figure of Albert Wesker standing in front of the mirror looking in as the unconscious Claire is being carried out of the room.