The color of the sky was deep violet and seemed rather empty. Leon drove his little black car down the busy roads of New Raccoon. The place was still in the Detox And Reconstruction Phase. To the local citizens they just referred to it as A City Building Project. That was good enough for them. The Reconstruction process had been going on for over three years now. Leon S. Kennedy had left the Secret Service after an injury. He had been protecting President Graham when anassassination attempt had occurred. Leon jumped into the way and had been shot in the process. Details into the allegged assassin are currently being looked into. He'd been dismissed of his duties and sent on a year's medical leave. He returned to New Raccoon very...reluctantly. Due to his injury he was unable to find steady work and the local controversies and scandals made it especially difficult. The press said it may have been another member of the hostile group, the Los Illuminados. But these are speculations. Leon moved to a quiet part of the city in a apartment that was being closely watched by the government for his own protection. This is where he is now. A phone call was about to change everything, once again.
The tweny-eight-year old Leon opened the door to his apartment and threw his keys down on the kitchen table. It was a comfortable space. There was large picture window that peered out into the busy streets of New Raccoon. A black leather couch and matching recliner that circled around a television. The living room led into a small kitchenette with black appliances matching the overall "manly" look of the entire place. A small hall led to the one bedroom and tiny bathroom. Leon took his shoes off and placed them neatly under the table and placed his favorite leather jacket on a coat rack near the door. The answering machine's eye blinked as if it to say, "You got a message, Big Boy." Leon smiled slightly at that thought.
He pushed the button and began to remove his button down shirt. The familiar voice of his comrade in the Secret Service, Seth Griffin. "This is Griffin. We have some new information on the assassin. Meet me at the warehouse. The address is on your bed in a manila envelope. I'll be in an unmarked red Tracker. Hurry"
"That's strange why would he leave a message like that on my home phone. Maybe the cell phones are to easy to track this time. Still it seems odd"
Leon went into the tiny bedroom and picked up the envelope and grabbed his Beretta that he kept secretly locked away. It was still hard for him to walk, but he could react quickly if anything were to happen his. His ballistic skills were still keen and precise. He pulled out of the drive and quietly slipped into the hustled traffic. Expensive cars and even more expensively dressed people roamed the cold sidewalks and streets of New Raccoon. Umbrella was gone, but the wealth it had left was more evident then ever. Most of the citizens had forgotten the name Umbrella and what happened or new nothing of it. It was always fresh in Leon's mind. These people lived under the "umbrella" of something new, Blissful Ignorance. The man pushed his thoughts aside as he looked cautiously for the so-called warehouse. Something was not settling right in the deep pit of his stomach, it hadn't been since the mysterious phone call.
Leon was quick in thought and action. Maybe even a little to cautious, but after the recent events with him and President Graham and the other agents, two others had been injured, but not as critically. He parked his car in an alleyway next to the warehouse. It was in the older part of New Raccoon. This worried him even more. Night had fallen. The lights around the city winked to life sleepily. A distant car alarm, a dog barking, and the sounds of cars driving by were welcoming sounds in the relatively dead night. Leon found a door eerily illuminated by an over head floodlight. He saw Griffin's car near a dumpsite and breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least he was more then sure it was actually Griffin. Leon cocked the Bertta and entered. Everything was dark in the wide open room except for the center where it was lit by overhead flood lights. The air was cold, stale, and musty. Boxes and various trash littered the floor. The ex-agent held out the gun, just in case. His blood raced and his heart beat was quick. The room was deathly silent. The only sounds were coming from broken windows. The howling wind and steady fall of his footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse like a warning sign. His caution fell when he stepped on large mound on the ground. It was soft, cold, and smelled of very metallic.
"Griffin"
The older man's upturned face held a look of horror in the flitting shadows. He was bleeding profusely from a gun shot window in his abdomen. "Kennedy, they got her"
"Quiet, who"
"Ashley, she's over there. They pulled me out of the car and shot me. Leon, you got hurry"
The agent pointed to the center of the room where a young girl with blonde hair was tied up. A sick display. Her thin arms were roped to each side of wooden planks that had been nailed to the post. She looked like a sacrifice. Leon felt anger well-up inside of him like a beast.
"Griffin hold on, I'll get us all out of here"
"Ashley," the agent began to speak again.
"What"
"Beware of the top and her face, her face is not the same as in a mirror"
"Griffin"
The agent was gone. His eyes were glazed over and the wound was not pulsing as much. His heart was slowing down in pace.
"Damn it"
Leon ran to the center of the room every move was quick and careful. The pain in his leg was immense, but he bared it. The life of the President daughter was his main priority. The strange words of Griffin pounded at his skull.
"Ashley, hold on"
She was unconscious. Her head slumped over. Gun shots sung through the air causing Leon to shoot back. There was groan and someone collapsed above. He carefully and quickly released her. He picked her up, but the blonde hair fell to the floor. It wasn't Ashley. A different peaceful face appeared in the dim light. The entire world fell silent. The car alarm ceased, the dog was quiet, and the wind was dead. Who was behind this? And who was this mysterious girl?
The tweny-eight-year old Leon opened the door to his apartment and threw his keys down on the kitchen table. It was a comfortable space. There was large picture window that peered out into the busy streets of New Raccoon. A black leather couch and matching recliner that circled around a television. The living room led into a small kitchenette with black appliances matching the overall "manly" look of the entire place. A small hall led to the one bedroom and tiny bathroom. Leon took his shoes off and placed them neatly under the table and placed his favorite leather jacket on a coat rack near the door. The answering machine's eye blinked as if it to say, "You got a message, Big Boy." Leon smiled slightly at that thought.
He pushed the button and began to remove his button down shirt. The familiar voice of his comrade in the Secret Service, Seth Griffin. "This is Griffin. We have some new information on the assassin. Meet me at the warehouse. The address is on your bed in a manila envelope. I'll be in an unmarked red Tracker. Hurry"
"That's strange why would he leave a message like that on my home phone. Maybe the cell phones are to easy to track this time. Still it seems odd"
Leon went into the tiny bedroom and picked up the envelope and grabbed his Beretta that he kept secretly locked away. It was still hard for him to walk, but he could react quickly if anything were to happen his. His ballistic skills were still keen and precise. He pulled out of the drive and quietly slipped into the hustled traffic. Expensive cars and even more expensively dressed people roamed the cold sidewalks and streets of New Raccoon. Umbrella was gone, but the wealth it had left was more evident then ever. Most of the citizens had forgotten the name Umbrella and what happened or new nothing of it. It was always fresh in Leon's mind. These people lived under the "umbrella" of something new, Blissful Ignorance. The man pushed his thoughts aside as he looked cautiously for the so-called warehouse. Something was not settling right in the deep pit of his stomach, it hadn't been since the mysterious phone call.
Leon was quick in thought and action. Maybe even a little to cautious, but after the recent events with him and President Graham and the other agents, two others had been injured, but not as critically. He parked his car in an alleyway next to the warehouse. It was in the older part of New Raccoon. This worried him even more. Night had fallen. The lights around the city winked to life sleepily. A distant car alarm, a dog barking, and the sounds of cars driving by were welcoming sounds in the relatively dead night. Leon found a door eerily illuminated by an over head floodlight. He saw Griffin's car near a dumpsite and breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least he was more then sure it was actually Griffin. Leon cocked the Bertta and entered. Everything was dark in the wide open room except for the center where it was lit by overhead flood lights. The air was cold, stale, and musty. Boxes and various trash littered the floor. The ex-agent held out the gun, just in case. His blood raced and his heart beat was quick. The room was deathly silent. The only sounds were coming from broken windows. The howling wind and steady fall of his footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse like a warning sign. His caution fell when he stepped on large mound on the ground. It was soft, cold, and smelled of very metallic.
"Griffin"
The older man's upturned face held a look of horror in the flitting shadows. He was bleeding profusely from a gun shot window in his abdomen. "Kennedy, they got her"
"Quiet, who"
"Ashley, she's over there. They pulled me out of the car and shot me. Leon, you got hurry"
The agent pointed to the center of the room where a young girl with blonde hair was tied up. A sick display. Her thin arms were roped to each side of wooden planks that had been nailed to the post. She looked like a sacrifice. Leon felt anger well-up inside of him like a beast.
"Griffin hold on, I'll get us all out of here"
"Ashley," the agent began to speak again.
"What"
"Beware of the top and her face, her face is not the same as in a mirror"
"Griffin"
The agent was gone. His eyes were glazed over and the wound was not pulsing as much. His heart was slowing down in pace.
"Damn it"
Leon ran to the center of the room every move was quick and careful. The pain in his leg was immense, but he bared it. The life of the President daughter was his main priority. The strange words of Griffin pounded at his skull.
"Ashley, hold on"
She was unconscious. Her head slumped over. Gun shots sung through the air causing Leon to shoot back. There was groan and someone collapsed above. He carefully and quickly released her. He picked her up, but the blonde hair fell to the floor. It wasn't Ashley. A different peaceful face appeared in the dim light. The entire world fell silent. The car alarm ceased, the dog was quiet, and the wind was dead. Who was behind this? And who was this mysterious girl?