All characters and the setting of this fanfic aren't my intellectual property. They belong to Capcom and are used without permission. No profit is made from this work.
(Thanks for the feedback, both of you; I was indeed starting to wonder if anyone was enjoying this, or if all readers bailed in mortal boredom back at chapter 1.)
8. Shuffling
He knows she's bothered.
It's sort of fun, really. Not half as much fun as straight-up putting an end to personal friction. But it's definitely got its perks. She can usually dance rings around him, but right now? Pampered little elitist can't even start.
He answers his radio. Wesker doesn't talk to him directly often; he can't afford to carry his communicator everywhere. But now they can have their little convo. "Krauser. How goes progress?"
"Not so well. Our cleanest sources for the remaining samples are on the island." He shrugs at Ada. "Saddler's sealed it off."
Wesker skips over that point. "I've been having some trouble getting through."
"Yeah. They've been jamming Kennedy. Probably been looking for stray signals."
Wesker swings back and racks up both points with one hit. "Resolve the collection issues tonight. All loose ends must be tied off."
"We've got four out of five." Keep the tone confident. "I'm not letting the fifth one get away."
"I refer to Kennedy."
Heroes die.
"Yeah? What about him?" He only realizes a moment later he's drawn his knife. He looks over at Ada, who's watching with a blank face, eyes on the blade.
"How has he been evading both Saddler and Miss Wong?"
His hand comes up before Ada can think of moving, knife tucked under only two fingers as he motions for her to wait. "Dunno. I haven't seen much of him. He's got to shepherd the Graham kid everywhere, and I can't afford to be around her."
"Ah, Graham." Wesker hisses air through his teeth, so soft Krauser almost doesn't catch it. "Ada will need to focus on the last sample. You must rely on your unlimited access to the island. Get close to them and neutralize them both."
"Understood." He shuts off communication, still within their five-minute window where it's safe to talk without Saddler's soldiers picking up on their signals, and looks at Ada.
"You know," he says, "it's like a movie. Hero comes in to save the girl, everything gets complicated, spies and secret agents head all over everywhere, lots of guns and explosions. . . damn, I love this job." A tremor runs over her, a checked step for the door; she wants to go out and keep Kennedy moving. "Thing is, it's getting rough." He can't help it; he has to see her face closer, and he moves in. "Pressure's getting on. Everyone's after the good guy."
She stares back, not giving away much, but he saw that tiny flinch. "What are you getting at, Krauser?"
He's getting better at playing this game. He tips his head to one side like he's curious. "Wesker said to clean things up. You know what seems even messier to me than Kennedy somehow surviving? Las Plagas coming back at us later. There's a chance some have already left." She's listening. This is the most seriously she's ever taken him. "Picked up something from Sera. He said he had a project on the island to remove a hatched plaga. Now, you know shit about machinery, right? 'Course. So it makes sense for you to ignore that and focus on the sample, which is what's really important. Me? I'm looking out for Umbrella's long-term interests. Gonna get to the island, see if I can find the project. Take care of loose ends once that's done."
She can get way colder than Leon, that's for sure, and it makes it much harder to tell what she's thinking. Her eyelashes flick down once, sharply, and then back up. And then, suddenly, he's subjected to the most intense look he's ever gotten from her. He knows she's already made her decision, and is floored, trying to guess what that's about.
"So you were friends?" She comes closer, watching his face.
"Yeah. Once." He folds his arms, uncomfortable, and taps the flat of his knife against his bicep.
"Maybe he wasn't being too generous." She turns away. "I'll let you know when I have the sample."
Hunh. Maybe he just landed in Ada's cool book. Screw that. He shrugs at her back and heads out himself.
9. Assembly
I know he's up to something now.
Perhaps Krauser's preparing to reveal his true loyalty to Saddler; perhaps he intends to ransom Leon's life should I be the one to obtain the fifth sample.
What surprises me very much is his failure to put in a bad word about me to Wesker. He was asked a direct question about my resolve, and somehow failed to use the opening. Not because I was there. He is not so subtle.
His face when Wesker brought up Kennedy was as though he'd taken a long-awaited hit. I don't think it's truly Kennedy that reached him. Their friendship has been gone for years. Perhaps he has disliked bringing Graham in, and is hoping Leon might take her home. Most likely, I give him far too much credit, and his real motives are so contorted I can't imagine them.
Whatever he's doing, he seems only to be setting things in place. For now, I'll watch the situation.
10. Red, Green
"Wait!" Leon throws the rifle's butt against his shoulder, resting the gun over the window's edge, and peers into the scope. Behind him, Ashley peers over his shoulder. It's a long shot, but he can make it. He already knows he won't, though.
Jack Krauser is unaware of him, perched on a broken rock, checking over his equipment. Probably gearing up to come try to kill him. Still. He starts to lower the gun, and then he sees a glimmer of red.
He hauls out his binoculars for a better look, expecting Ada with a crackle of hope in the back of his head. But no. There's a cultist coming up behind his former friend. He doesn't even have to think about it. He drops the binocs, aims, and takes the shot.
He doesn't have time to spare to go see if Krauser's ready to tell him anything more about Las Plagas. He reminds himself they're no longer friends.
Maybe he can allow himself a little satisfaction from helping.
11. Acceleration
Balls.
Krauser peers around the rock at the dead cultist. The others are fleeing; naturally, they're off to tell Saddler about this. Only they don't know what happened to the dead one and Saddler will blame him. He throws himself after them, racing across the open space towards the ravine gate before he realizes he's leaving himself open for the sniper. But he's safe; that's gotta be Leon.
He gets two. The third sprouts an adult plaga. He strikes before he realizes it, cutting it free, and it leaps over the next series of rocks and is just gone. He stands in the middle of the ravine, bloodstained and feeling better than he ever could have expected at the shit hitting the fan. Graham, Kennedy, Wong, Saddler, the village—Christ, what a fucking mess. But damned if, right now, he doesn't feel gloriously alive. His fingers twitch in what might be agreement. He's free of Saddler's demands now, like it or not.
Time to get out the war paint and hit the island. Hooah.
12. Redline
They threw her on the floor.
He knows the significance of Saddler's men starting to get hands-on. He suspects what they were thinking, and it's an iron weight in his gut along with the leaden heat of the parasite. He blows the head off a soldier with the shotgun. It barely registers that he's taken another life.
He didn't get to the island quick enough to save her, and Ashley's paying for it. He heads around the corner too fast, and stops at the sight of bodies and blood. And Krauser, pressed up against the wall by the window, red paint jagged over his face, cleaning his knife with a scrap of someone's shirt. So Jack's finally broken into "kill 'em all" mode. He keeps the shotgun ready.
"Thought you'd come this way." Krauser's always been. . . different when he gets like this, but it's much more obvious now, like some safety catch has broken off. He rolls his head back as he looks around the bloody room, confident and self-satisfied.
"What do you want, Krauser?"
"There's a mess up ahead. Big open space, sealed-off doors, lots and lots of mercenaries dug in behind their sandbags, the whole nine yards. You and I are gonna hit it like a meteor. Then we're gonna play a little ourselves, just for the benefit of any onlookers. Then you're gonna go on ahead. . ." he tests the knife's edge, smiling, "and I'm gonna hang back a bit."
"Onlookers?" So Krauser isn't freelance after all.
"Just play along." For a moment, Krauser's looking at him funny. Like he's just ran out of ammunition and Leon's got an extra clip stashed away.
"So where's Ashley?"
"Other side of the holed-up soldiers." Krauser's gotten his balance back. His smirk is nasty, the one that says "I want a fight, any fight, now." "Saw her getting dragged through. Looks unhurt. Not a happy camper."
He feels his own resolve solidify, knows it's showing in the way he looks at the door.
"Yeah." Krauser swings the knife, spins it, sheathes it, and pulls his bow from his shoulder. It's already strung. "Let's do this."
This is what's been missing. On his own, he has to keep firing, and his aim suffers. With someone at his back, the soldiers never get a chance to plan and start circling him, and he can run and breathe and shoot. It feels easy, natural. Jack stays behind and covers him at first, cutting them down with an unhurried air, although once he hits a barrel of fuel and takes down three soldiers and laughs. Leon just aims and fires.
It's when the second wave comes that things change. Neither of them see the crossbowman, not with so many first-generation plagas stumbling around waving bone-tipped tentacles. They're coming back together in the center of the courtyard, a lone fuel barrel standing between them. Leon's reloading, Krauser's approaching, and suddenly there's just explosion. If there weren't a soldier trying to sidle up behind him, Leon would have caught the worst of it; as it is, Krauser's knocked off his feet and Kennedy's slammed into the wall, a dying soldier staring into his eyes.
Krauser's apparently rattled by the explosion. He charges in. Kennedy moves back a bit and lays down covering fire to keep him from getting swarmed. Krauser ducks, kicking a soldier with a shock rod away, and yells, "get the locks open!"
Yeah. They're gonna have to fight, and it's a good idea to have his escape already clear. He sees Krauser's knife open a soldier from navel to sternum and starts running. Krauser's attracting all the attention, allowing him to get to both locks with minimal fighting. Quiet settles through the area as he finds the second. It feels almost unnatural after the harsh, constant gunfire and screaming. For a moment he just breathes, tasting metallic smoke and feeling the jangle of adrenaline start to fade. Heavy silence fills the air. And then an arm locks around his neck. Krauser's right there. The knife against Leon's throat is blood-hot. He grabs for Jack's wrist and tries to push away. It's like grabbing a steel cable. He's going to die because he was stupid and trusting. Ashley'll pay.
"Stay sharp." Krauser's voice in his ear is rough, and when he lets go, it's with a shove. Leon turns and looks. Blisters from the heat are scattered over his shirtless flesh. Angry red crawls up his neck, lies over half his face. Thick orange splatters run over his torso (all plaga blood: how'd he get through that without a scratch?) Kennedy sees through that, sees the expression under the burn and scars and blood and paint. And now? He knows why Krauser's helping him. It's bizarre. Maybe not quite welcome. In a way, he already knew.
His face must be showing something, because Krauser's expression takes on a hint of foreign vulnerability before he gets control and is just sneering again. "We've got to move. And dammit, Kennedy, check your six."
Leon rolls his eyes and leaps out the window. Krauser dives after him. He puts it all aside, draws his knife, and dodges the first attack.
The fight's good. They circle, attack without getting anywhere, break apart again. Krauser circles, speaking low. "Back up towards the door. When you reach the corner, I'm swinging three times and slicing high from the left." A quick exchange, ending with both of them having to dodge. "Kick for the chest, give it everything you've got. Then run. Don't look back."
"Agreed." Kennedy'd prefer to make the plan, but he'll still go with it. Krauser's not quite the good guy Kennedy knew. Leon knows he's gonna try to be, at least until they part ways again.