Chapter 3
Albert Wesker sat in one of those comfy office chairs adjoined to a long table in an empty conference room. Not for the first time since he'd arrived like, twenty minutes ago, he removed his shades and wiped them with a black cloth. Just for something to do. This was taking far too long. He'd crippled research plants faster than this, even ones that weren't run by zombified researchers drooling all over their own equipment and trying to play the popular zombie game of walk-through-wall.
Sighing, he rested his boots up on the table, kicking back in his seat. It didn't pay to be on time to an appointment anymore. Not with these guys. Lately his HCF contacts had been taking a leaf out of the doctor's office books. Only here I don't even get magazines. If they're going to be inconsiderate enough to keep me waiting, the least they could do would be to give me something to read. Just as he was thinking this, the door popped open and a man named Jeff whom Wesker was quite familiar with stepped into the room.
Always straight to business, he strode over and occupied the seat at the farthest end of the table.
Wesker rolled his eyes, aware the man could not see the movement beneath his sunglasses. Not that he would care even if the other guy could see the impolite gesture.
" What took you? Couldn't pull yourself away from the lunchroom ? "
Jeff, who was more than thirty pounds overweight and not in the least bit proud of it, took offense. " As a matter of fact I was just signing the new contract to legalize some of our agreements in the Middle East." He kept his tone calm, hardly any traces of his initial resentment spilling into it.
Although Jeff was Wesker's higher-up and the one in charge of relaying the boss's assignments to the superhuman virus carrier, he was still more than a little afraid of what the guy might do when pushed. Thus he bluffed his way through his fears, pretending to be several times more important than he actually was. It gave him some degree of comfort at least.
Wesker shook his head, tsk-tsking. " It doesn't take twenty minutes to sign a piece of paper." He could sense Jeff's fear, smell it. It was good that this peon knew his place.
Folding his hands on the table, Jeff replied, " It does when it involves company procedure and a whole lot of red tape. But that's not important. The boss wants me to inform you of your next mission: you are to retrieve an ancient relic from beneath a volcano on Majika Island. Here." He slid a single sheet of paper across the polished surface of the table.
Much to his dismay, Wesker was forced to pull his feet off the table and sit up properly to grab it. He began reading at rapid-fire speed. Once he was finished he threw the paper down in disgust.
" The Sword of Elpis? Might as well be the Sword of Elvis, how cheesy can you get? "
Jeff sighed. " That's what I thought too. But there's an ancient prophecy concerning this sword that's been in our file for many years now. Said the sword was forged hundreds of years ago by a now vanished group of mystical monks for some upcoming apocalypse or battle. Supposed to have magic properties. According to the prophecy, the sword can be found in a secret underground chamber beneath the base of Mt. Fulcan and is accessible during 'the right time' which our studies have confirmed just happens to be tomorrow. What lends that last statement further credibility is that we have had teams scour the area before and come up with nothing. So now the boss wants you to go in and get it."
Wesker shook his head, frustrated. All these years with HCF and he was getting reduced to such trivial tasks as hunting down some lame-named sword that probably didn't even exist? It was an insult to his abilities. Why can't he send some lackies in to do the ridiculous stuff?
" A magical sword. Right. This sword by any chance related to the Excalibur? Because if I didn't know any better I might think this sounded like I was being sent off on a wild goose chase after something as firmly based in reality as the Fountain of Youth."
Jeff rocked back in his seat. " Whether or not you and I believe the sword is magical, or even if it exists at all, there are a lot of people out there willing to pay big bucks for it. Now I don't know why exactly the Head Honcho assigned this mission to you in particular, but it would be unwise to turn it down. If nothing else at least you'll get to enjoy some warm Caribbean weather. Majika Island is right on the equator you know."
Wesker thought about this a moment. Jeff had a point. Even if the whole magical sword thing turned out to be nothing more than a bunch of bologna, at least he would get to spend that time in the tropics on a remote island. Perhaps there would even be some savages to whip into shape? The idea was enticing.
On second thought, this doesn't seem like such a bad mission. Could be an excellent training ground for Spade. It's been awhile since we were assigned to a remote area. Besides, some sun would feel awfully good right about now. Yeah. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. It would be more like a paid vacation.
He rubbed his hands together. " Alright I accept."
A relieved smile swept Jeff's face. " Great! You need any henchmen? An assistance group or such? Sorry, but I have to ask the question. It's not that I personally think you would need…"
" Screw the cannon fodder this time. I'm taking Spade."
Jeff raised an uncomfortable eyebrow. " Your daughter? "
Wesker's eyes flashed red momentarily in a gesture of annoyance. The lyrics to that Jeff Foxworthy song Here's Your Sign flashed through his mind.
And if anyone ever needed a sign…" No, Spade the three-headed circus freak. Who else would I be talking about? Of course my daughter."
Jeff was skeptical. " I'm…I'm not sure how Number One would feel about that…"
" And why not? " Wesker shot, " I've been training her."
Jeff took a long time answering, and Wesker had to suppress the urge to rip his throat out. This guy is way overpaid. Nevertheless, he was familiar with Jeff at least and not really in the mood to break in a new Missions Assignments personnel. Not to mention the cut in pay that resulted from assassinating an employee as high up on the totem pole as Jeff had somehow magically gotten.
For now, Wesker was just going to have to put up with the sniveling weasel. Mind swimming with poisonous thoughts, he resnatched the paper about the Sword of Elpis or whatever the heck it was supposed to be that Jeff had given him earlier and reread over some of the detail while he waited for Weasel Boy to cough up his explanation.
" Well you see, that's exactly the thing," Jeff said, no doubt choosing his words carefully, " Number One hasn't forgotten what happened with your son…"
Wesker dropped his paper and gave Jeff a piercing glare. A piercing red glare. " Oh really? That whole thing was nothing more than an unfortunate turn of events. Where am I to be blamed for Alan's poor judgment? " His tone was calm and casual, almost friendly in fact.
With Wesker, that was a danger sign. He seldom raised his voice and was an expert at concealing his true feelings. He could sound entirely reasonable right up to the moment he ripped your still beating heart out of your chest and stomped it into the floor. And you would be left wondering why with your last breath.
Jeff's posture was slightly more relaxed now, but he still didn't look comfortable with the way the conversation was turning. " Very well then. It's your call."
" Indeed." He stood and stretched, flashing Jeff a cold, wicked grin intended to freeze the blood in his veins, " Tell the Big Wig I'm on it."
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Wesker liked to drive very fast. Thus he reached the quaint little country house he shared with his daughter in only minutes.
Though used at the moment strictly as living quarters, the three-bedroom dwelling could easily be converted into a ranch or farm thanks to the miles and miles of endless open hills dotted with trees and the lack of close neighbors. A lovely little stream straight out of a fairly tail gurgled nearby, flanking the right side of the house in a grove of trees. The sweet song of birds filled the air.
All in all, Wesker thought it wasn't a bad place to live. He particularly liked the seclusion. It would not do to have people getting too nosy about his personal affairs, like those damned busybodies in that one Iowan neighborhood who had, most likely for reasons of boredom, invented the most ridiculous rumors about him and Alan.
Nowadays Wesker opted for the remote living quarters. Having to be on the watch twenty-four seven that he didn't slip up and let someone see something they shouldn't cramped his style.
Pulling into the driveway, he killed the motor of his sleek black Ferrari.
Spade burst out the front door of the house, a wild shimmer of hopeful excitement in her eyes. " Daddy! You're back! "
Wesker stepped out of the car and met her halfway to the door. Not for the first time he found himself staring into her eyes. They were a beautiful emerald green, the way his had once been. It brought back memories.
Spade didn't notice. She crossed her arms, a gleeful smile splitting her face. " So how'd it go? Did we get an exotic new mission? Please say yes, because I am so totally ready to kick some butt! I'm bored to tears here. I mean, there's only so much rest and relaxation a girl can handle."
This statement was further punctuated by her choice of attire: a dull green tee with equally as interesting blue jeans and brown cowgirl boots. Her shiny black hair, some of it streaked with blonde dye, was swept back into a loose ponytail. She more closely resembled a farmgirl ready to muck out the stalls, feed the chickens, or ride bareback than a hopeful apprentice ready to head out on a special mission.
" Actually, yes. The boss wants me to go to a tropical island after some mystical Sword of Elpis. I personally think it's a big waste of time, but whatever. It would feel good to catch some sun anyway. Think of it as more of a vacation. Who knows, there may even be some cannibals to beat into shape."
He shivered a bit involuntary. It was cold out today. Very cold. In fact, it was a miracle they hadn't had snow already. The forecaster seemed to think they would be seeing some tomorrow though.
Suddenly the tropics seemed even more inviting. Though Wesker's body could tolerate temperatures could enough to give the average person hypothermia, it was not in the least comfortable and seemed to slow his virus down some.
Like a reptile in the cold.
He often wondered if certain aspects of his virus, the T-2, hadn't in fact been derived from snakes; reptilian predators which were inactive during the cold winter and also shared the characteristic of slitted pupils in the eyes.
Spade was thrilled. " A tropical island? Sweet."
Nodding his agreement, Wesker brushed past his daughter and headed for the house. " Pack up. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."
" Great! " Spade shot into the house and for her room with such a speed that for a moment Wesker wondered if she, too, hadn't somehow contracted the T-2 virus.
It didn't take much to excite her, that was for sure.
Then the horrible realization of what she might be packing…" Spade? "
" Yes? " He could already hear her rifling through drawers, zipping and unzipping bags at a furious pace. The fragrant scent of coconut oil drifted through the air.
" Remember, only the necessities this time. No eyeliner or lipstick. Only the necessities. We wont be there for more than a day or two at the most if all goes to plan, so there's no need to pack your entire room."
" Affirmative. But I still want to look nice, in case, you know, I run into some cute guy."
" If you did I'd just have to kill him." Wesker laughed, only half joking.
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" A sorceress?! " Alfred gasped.
Veronica looked agitated. " Art thou deaf? That is what I just said! "
Alexia snorted indignantly. " Impossible! "
Veronica only laughed. I was a soft, delicate sound; much like Alexia's laughter. " So funny how thee can deny what is in front of thy own eyes."
That did it. Alexia had had enough. Sorceress or no, Veronica posed a serious threat to her and her goals. Not to mention leadership of the Ashford family.
The plan? Simple, she was going to deal with this threat in the best way she knew how: eliminate it. Strike hard and swift, before Veronica knew what hit her.
Of course, that did present a bit of a problem in itself. How did one vanquish a sorceress? Alexia's fields of expertise were science and math. Though a genius, and an evil one at that, she had not wasted her time researching such ridiculous things as black magic and sorcery.
Thus she didn't know what to expect, only that her foe must be taken down quickly.
She concentrated hard, willing the molecules of the T-Veronica virus within her to speed up and start their work. The results were almost instant. Her cells heated up. Then her body. The area around her was now over a hundred degrees and getting hotter still. Her clothes caught on fire and burned off, revealing the emerging mottled, ashen-gray skin, tough and rubbery. Her blonde hair faded to varying shades of gray then fused together, forming a single helmet-like protrusion on her head and covering a small part of her face. All over her body soft, pink skin was being replaced by hard, gray armor. Her eyes blazed an evil undiluted red.
It was her first form, a phase she was becoming more and more familiar with and the one she must pass through to attain her second and third forms. In this state she had enhanced strength and agility as well as almost impenetrable armor and, of course, her trademark fire-throwing ability.
It was a good form for fighting lesser foes on--she could quite easily pick up and throw cars like this--but it lacked the sheer power and size of her second form, or the speed of her third form.
Hopefully it would be enough to beat Veronica. Switching to second form required a big drain on her energies and a partial loss of coherent thoughts. She found herself unable to focus well in that stage, it was like some animal instincts took over and she regarded everyone as a foe.
Veronica watched calmly as Alexia finished her transformation.
Alfred backed off into a little corner, rooting, of course, for Alexia but having the good sense not to get in the way.
Ash groaned. " Aw gees Mom, do you have to do that all the time? I don't mean to be rude but…"
Alexia snapped her head his direction, her flaming red eyes glowing like embers in a fire. Then don't. There was absolutely no mistaking the raw power and authority in her telepathic voice.
Ash fell silent, still clutching his bloody sword tightly but backing away towards the wall. He didn't like being near his mother when she got like this. It almost always resulted in him getting hurt.
Having taken care of that, Alexia returned her attention to her ancestor, who waited patiently.
" Oh, thou haveth special powers too? This shalt be interesting." Veronica mused.
Much to Alexia's disappointment, she didn't seem worried in the least. She really thinks she's hot stuff. Time to show her who the real Mistress around here is!
Without warning, Alexia charged, catching both hands on fire, her fingernails thickening and lengthening into wicked claws.
Sadly, Veronica was so busy being curious and captivated by Alexia's transformation that she was totally unprepared for the sudden assault and failed to move in time.
Alexia's fiery hand struck her cheek, twisting her head to the side at a painful angle and leaving deep gashes in the side of her face. Before she had time to cry out Alexia grabbed her by the neck and flung her against the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
Hah! That will teach you! Determined not to let her foe regain her feet, Alexia started for her again.
Veronica stood up, but rather than being enraged or intimidated by the blow she gave Alexia a look usually only reserved for someone who belched loudly in a restaurant. " What manner of foul play is this? Do thee possess no manners? Thou do not just walketh up to someone and strike them! "
" You do if you want to win! " Ash threw, relieved that his mother seemed to be on top of things. He was still hugging the wall, keeping his sword handy just in case.
Alexia caught her whole body on fire, a walking torch headed straight for Veronica.
Veronica was less amused now. She waved a hand over her face and the bloody gashes--some which were undoubtedly to the bone--simply vanished without a trace.
" So thou wanst to play rough does thee? Fine, I shalt show thee how it is done! " With that her eyes flashed a deep primal red and her entire body was instantly surrounded by a shimmering magical aura of a pale purple glow.
She began to change. But it was not a slow, gradual change as Alexia's metamorphosis had been, oh no. Rather one moment Veronica was a stunningly beautiful young woman and the next she was an equally as gorgeous dragon with jet black scales, a gold colored underside, and a ridge of red spikes running the length of her back and tail.
All in the time it took to blink.
She was also just the right size to fit in the room; not large, by dragon standards, but not exactly a Chihuahua either. She was bigger than Alexia.
Ash's jaw dropped.
Over in his corner, far, far away, Alfred cloned the motion. " A dragon?! "
Alexia finally froze, inches in front of it's face. Ok, so perhaps that wasn't the best idea I ever had…
She had clearly underestimated Veronica.
The dragon's mouth flew open and a violent hail of orange and red flame shot out, hitting Alexia in the face and torso with such powerful force it sent her tumbling backwards to the middle of the room where she landed ungraciously on her back.
" Um…Alexia? I have a suggestion," Alfred called, sounding like a scared and lost little boy, " we do whatever Sorceress Veronica says! "
The Veronica-dragon grinned, revealing several pointy white teeth. " I guess thee art not as stupid as thou lookst." She said aloud, the voice clearly her own and not in the least bit affected by moving the dragon jaws to make the sounds.
As she spoke he caught glimpses of a red serpentine tongue darting about inside her mouth, just like the dragons of mythology.
Alexia started to get up. The fire hadn't hurt her, obviously--in fact it was more like getting swatted down onto her backside with a giant pillow--but the fall had wounded her dignity.
She tossed a fireball in Veronica's general direction, but it was more for distraction than anything else. She's too powerful like this, I have to go Second Form. But even as she was willing the changes to begin, Veronica attacked.
This time it was not fire, but a chilling blast of Artic wind and ice that escaped her jaws. This frigid torrent froze Alexia's fireball midair, solidifying it into a large chunk of ice before it vaporized and the clinging ice shards fell to the floor.
The rest of the blast hit Alexia, and it was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Her first sensation was a terrible chill, like she'd been cast into the freezing Artic ocean wearing only a leotard. Cold! So cold! The initially hot blood in her veins quickly froze up, slowing her heartbeat and preventing her virus from functioning altogether.
In fact, she became so numb with coldness that the three long icicles piercing her body in the arm, leg, and torso didn't even register. Where blood should have spurted non came.
Veronica clamped her jaws shut, cutting off the horrific onslaught of ice-wind.
Her descendant lie motionless in the center of the room, covered from head to toe in a thin sheet of white frost and completely paralyzed; too cold even to shiver.
She would die within seconds, Veronica knew, unless something was done. Gee, I didn't mean to lay it on her so hard.
Alfred and Ash started to her side immediately.
" Stay back! " Veronica hissed, having merely to look at the walls to start writhing green vines as thick as ropes shooting out of them and grabbing the male Ashfords back.
" Hey! What's the big…" Ash was silenced as a large vine slapped across his mouth. Several more wrapped around his arms, legs, and midsection…there were too many too fast!
Alfred was having the same problem. He struggled in vain with the tendrils coiling around his body like angry snakes until he, too, was pulled back against the wall, the constricting vines wrapped so tight he barely had room to breathe, never mind move a limb.
He was helpless. Helpless to watch his sister die. Soon Veronica would deal the death blow, and then it would all be over.
Alexia! Alexia, can you hear me? You have to get up. You have to get up or you'll die!
There was no reply.
Veronica clambered closer to the dying Alexia until she was standing right over her, and Alfred half expected that slender black snout to dart down and rip her head off.
Veronica's jaws opened again, and this time burning flames erupted forth; licking over Alexia's frozen body, melting the frost and unfreezing the blood to return to normal flow. Her heart sped back up.
Slowly, Alexia began to regain consciousness. Where am I? Did I…did I die? Again? Mmm, warm.
She sat up, eyes shut, allowing the warm flames to wash over her, rejuvenate her. It felt so good, the way she had once enjoyed nice hot baths as a child.
When it stopped, she was in fact a little disappointed. What's going on here anyway?
Opening her eyes, she looked up. Straight into the face of a dragon. And remembered instantly.
Uh-oh.
Uh-oh was right; Veronica's foremost foot surged forward and pinned her across the chest back to the floor, one of the insanely sharp red talons poised straight over her heart.
Blood gushed from some puncture wounds in her chest, arm, and leg that she didn't even remember receiving. It trickled in places over Veronica's toes, catching on fire as it did so.
Of course, being a creature of fire and magic, the dragon didn't mind.
" I do hopeth we are through with thy pointless feud. It is one thee canst not win."
" Just kill me and be done with it! " Alexia moaned, finally accepting defeat.
Never before had she been so totally and utterly annihilated. Even Chris had had to endure quite the struggle before he finally pulled off a lucky shot with the linear launcher.
This was different. This was new. Veronica had powers far beyond her compare. She could never hope to defeat the sorceress in this way. Not in a contest of power and brute strength. To attempt so again would most certainly be suicide.
What chance do I have against a woman who can turn herself into a dragon at the drop of a hat and pelt me with damnable ice-cold breath? I can't beat her like this.
It was the bitter truth.
" Kill thee? Alexia dear, thou hast me all wrong. It was never thine intention to kill thee. I was merely asserting thy dominance. Thou arst family after all. However there is to be no confusion as to who is Mistress of this family. Once thou haveth accepted this fact, once thou admits me as thy Mistress, I shalt let thee up."
She's mad! Completely insane! Alexia thought.
The way Veronica talked was really starting to bug her. Some of the words and styling were clearly Olde English, but Veronica only used them in proper context half the time. For example, she used 'thy' --which was the translated equivalent of ' your'--- in place of the words 'me' and 'the' in addition to it's proper usage. Which made no sense because she had just demonstrated she had the word 'me' in her vocabulary just last statement. Why would she use 'thy' in place of it? And 'thine' meant ' yours', yet this moron was using it as 'my'.
It sounded almost as if English was not her native tongue, but the puzzling thing about this was that her voice carried no trace of any other kind of accent.
And why would she be speaking Olde English anyway? Even 150 years ago people didn't talk like that.
It was incomprehensible. Then again, many things about Veronica were, especially how she could produce such soft sounds with a dragon's throat.
But Alexia was no fool. She now understood that her best chance at defeating Veronica would be to lay low and do whatever her 'Mistress' told her to until she could discover more of her weaknesses.
Sure, she had already found one, but somehow Alexia doubted that Veronica's butcher of the English language was going to be a major setback for her in the final fight.
Surely she must have some weakness, she didn't imprison herself in that teacup.
Wait a minute. Veronica had mentioned something about revenge against an imprisoner. And he/she must be some entity if Veronica still expected to find him/her alive after 150 years.
And I thought being confined for fifteen years was bad. Well, actually only fourteen years, six months, and two days, but who's counting?
Alfred had been. He later told her she'd emerged a few months earlier than planned, not that it mattered.
" Well? " Veronica demanded, her patience wearing thin. She opened her mouth halfway in a frightening display of glistening white teeth, several as long and sharp as kitchen knives and the foremost fangs were more like daggers.
Alexia had no desire to test their effectiveness.
Take her up on it! Call her 'Mistress', we can find a way out of this later! Alfred yelled inside her head, voice brimming with worry.
Ash, of course, was silent. He did not possess the ability of telepathy and his mouth was covered by a thick vine. But his thoughts on the matter pretty much mirrored his father's.
Alexia took a deep breath. This was going to be hard.
" Alright. You win, Mistress."
