Fighting out of the darkness. The gasp of her last breath, the crushing pressure from her killers' hands, the leathery smell of his gloves lingering in her nostrils. Panting heavily, she woke to darkness. Cool, filtered air ran over her skin: an air conditioning system. Where was she?
She rolled over in the bed, expecting a dingy cot, but found herself covered in luxurious satin sheets. The bed was large and soft, a gossamer canopy hung above the circular mattress. Wherever she was, they had taste to match their wealth. Pushing aside one of the sheer overhangs, she stepped away from the safe comfort of the bed, taking care to wrap one of the sleek red sheets about her body. It seemed her host had been kind enough to furnish her with every luxury save clothing.
The room was dimly lit, curtains half open to allow a generous amount of sunlight into the room, but not enough to disturb her slumber. Expensive pieces of furniture filled the room, plush velvet lined seats surrounding an ornately carved marble table. In one of these chairs sat a woman Ada had never before seen in her life. By her poise and confidence, Ada would've guessed her to be at least twenty years older than she, but by all physical appearances, the woman could easily have been her younger sister. The woman smiled.
"I'd heard of your elegance, but seeing you in just a sheet, I have to admit…the rumors simply don't do you justice," said the woman, her piercing green eyes taking in every detail of Ada's form and figure.
"Nice digs," complimented Ada, looking casually about. "Immaculate taste…any clothes to go with it?"
The woman nodded to a dresser, picking up a glass to sip at something. Ada walked carefully to the closet, still dragging the flowing covers behind her across the thick carpeting. Throwing the doors open, she saw one dress there: a long, simple red gown. She ran her hands along the seam, admiring the stitch work and embroidery. While rather simple, it was an elegant evening gown worthy of any high society debutante. Dropping the sheet casually, she stepped into the dress, pulling it up along her lithe body. It fit perfectly, every considerable curve and contour of her body tucked snugly into the silken folds of the dress. She especially enjoyed the Asian flavor of the design; whoever had made or bought it must have had her in mind.
"Marvelous, Ada," said the woman. "Simply marvelous."
After appreciating her reflection in a nearby mirror for another moment, Ada turned to face the woman, regarding her carefully.
"So you know my name, my size, and my taste in clothes…and what do I know about you?"
"Far more than you'd ever let on, I imagine…"
"I see you know how the game is played; that can only mean you are who I think you are…"
The woman arched an eyebrow, suppressing any surprise she might have had at that moment.
"Oh, and why do you say that," asked the woman. "Do you know who I am?"
"I have my suspicions," replied Ada, sitting across the woman. "But names aren't that important to me."
"And what is important to you?"
Ada leaned back in the chair, casually crossing her legs at the knee. "Why, revenge, I suppose."
The woman smiled. "We are two of a kind, my dear…cigarette," she asked, offering a long, slender cigarette from a platinum case.
"Those things'll kill you," she replied, shaking her head.
"Even you?"
"Before today, I would've thought so, but now…" shrugged Ada, taking the offered cigarette and putting it to her lips.
"My doctors pulled off quite the miracle reviving you," said the woman. "Even for them."
Ada took a long drag from the cigarette, blowing out a perfect smoke ring before studying the woman across the table.
"And how long did this miracle take, exactly?"
"About four days," replied the woman. "You've been recovering for another five."
"Nine days, huh?
"Give or take a few. We had you taken off the IV this morning, so you must be quite famished." She raised her hand slightly, and the large black doors behind her swung open for a tall, hawkish man pushing a cart into the room. He set plates of steaming food before Ada before refreshing the other woman's drink and politely bowing out of the room.
Ada watched the man exit, a strange expression coming over her face as she looked at the food.
"No offense to the chef…the food looks delicious, but something in me just wants to vomit when I look at it," said Ada, rubbing her stomach gingerly. "Must be withdrawal…"
"Yes, it was rather disconcerting to find such a wide…catalog of drugs in you, dear," said the woman, her intent eyes never leaving Ada. "Is that how Wesker hooked you into his crooked little organization?"
Ada regarded the woman suspiciously, but hid her wariness a moment later. "In a way. He told me it was a serum to keep me alive, all the while pumping me full of god knows what."
"So Daniel was telling the truth…you two had a falling out?"
"Daniel?"
"Some love struck puppy that inadvertently brought your body to one of our…operatives in Wesker's organization. After Daniel was…disposed of, my agent brought you here to be treated."
"Oh, you mean Danny-Boy…? You killed him? Was that really necessary?"
"All I know is that he disappeared after the revelation. From what I've heard, though, you're lucky he came to us first. It seems he was quite taken with you…"
"All the crazy ones are," said Ada, fighting to keep her eyes from the food. The woman took notice of this, and another gesture summoned the same man, who removed the food as quickly as he had set it. Before leaving, he set a small cup before Ada, containing a rainbow array of drugs and vitamins.
"Eat up, dear," said the woman. "Even if your appetite is lost, you still need your daily nutrients."
Ada gulped down the meds with a glass of water, wondering what she was getting into. So far, this woman seemed genuine and decent, a far cry from any of her conversations with Wesker. But there was something in the way this woman looked at her…it was a look she'd seen often in men, but rarely in women. It wasn't anything as simple as lust or desire; it was more akin to the way two heavyweights sized each other up before the bell rang.
"So why'd you bring me back," asked Ada, deciding to cut to the chase. She hoped the sudden shift in conversation might throw off the woman's thought process.
"Why, revenge, I suppose," the woman echoed back to Ada. "Is there anything of greater value in this world?"
"I'd think you would know," said Ada, looking around the posh décor before settling her dark eyes back on the woman. "But I must ask…how does keeping me alive gain you revenge?"
"Tell me, Ada…what would it take for you to work for us, of your own free will?"
"I'm damaged goods, sister. What good am I to you?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, no? You would be a valuable asset to my…company, Ada. And we would give you anything you wanted, anything in the world, if you were…of use to us. We can make you beautiful forever, like me, we can provide the best medical care to your family or loved ones, we can even—"
"You can find a way for me to kill Albert Wesker," cut in Ada, her eyes narrowing.
"That would be…agreeable," replied the woman, a cold smile spreading across her porcelain features.
--
"Those are very fair terms," he insisted. "Very agreeable, I would say."
"I don't think so," countered the young man sitting in the chair. "From where I stand, I can just as easily walk away from all of this."
"And then what, Leon? What would your life be then? What would you do with yourself, be a security guard at the local mall? With the collapse of the O.R.E., you're without merit or standing."
"All the more reason for me not to help you…"
"And your unsanctioned investigation into the chopper crash? Do you leave that unfinished as well?"
"From what your people are telling me, there's nothing to find there anyways, right?"
Graham thought over the words, realizing Leon had more going on upstairs than he had thought. Backed into a corner, facing prison time, and he was forcing the President to either admit secrets or lose his footing. Graham, however, didn't take the bait.
"So you've no qualms with the…prospect of jail time? I can't imagine what your daily grind will be like once the other inmates find out you used to be a police officer…"
"I'll do 6 months, tops. Probably be out on good behavior in time for the St. Paddy's Day parade."
"Good behavior? In federal prison? I don't think so, son."
"Face it, Graham. You have nothing on me anymore," said Leon smugly. "Give this little mission of yours to one of your sycophantic yes-men," he said, rising from the chair to leave. "I'm done with the O.R.E., and I'm done with you."
The anger was building up inside him, steaming to a head, but he controlled it, bottling it like his therapist had taught him. Leon's lack of respect was to be expected, after all. But he still didn't have to like it.
"And you think I'm just going to allow that to happen with my new position," seethed Graham. "I can lock you in a deep, dark hole and have the only key launched into space with a single phone call, boy."
Leon didn't respond immediately to the warning, keeping his back to the President. "So the threat comes at last, huh? I was wondering how long it'd take…"
"Even with the Executive Powers Act being held up in Congress, I can still stash you in a federal penitentiary until your bones turn brittle and your short and curlies turn gray, all before you even hear the word 'lawyer'. And at what cost to me? Nothing. Meanwhile, you have everything to lose…or gain," Graham said, leaning into his chair. "But know this: the moment you walk out that door, you become an enemy of mine, and thusly, an enemy of the state. And all you'd have to sustain you on those cold, lonely nights in an eight by eight concrete cell would be your silly pride."
"This sounds more important than you first let on, Mr. President," said Leon casually. "Almost…personal."
"When one reaches a position of authority, everything becomes personal, Mr. Kennedy. But I'm feeling generous, so I will allow you to…name your conditions."
Leon looked over the man, the little man that had first brought him into this world of betrayal, of lies and deceit. The man that had guided him down so many wrong paths, so many bad turns. In his mind, Leon had told himself that those terrible things were unavoidable roadblocks on his destined path. Barely half a dozen years ago, this small man had sat in a similar chair, in a weaker position, telling him what he must do. And now the most powerful man in the world, he was allowing Leon to name his own terms. It was a strange cycle.
"Alright…first, I want full administrative freedom in the investigation of Delta team's chopper crash, and the subsequent deaths of Captain Krauser and Lieutenant Olivera's entire fire team."
"That can be arranged. I'll have everything set up when you return—"
"That's not all. I want a full Presidential pardon for my unsanctioned and…illegal investigation into that same incident, and I want any connection between me and the O.R.E. to be erased. Permanently."
"I suppose that won't be difficult for me to do. Is that all?"
"No, there is one more thing," said Leon carefully, taking in a deep breath. "I want everything you have on an Albert Wesker."
"Hmm, name doesn't ring a bell," Graham said unflinchingly. "Who is he?"
"No one you should have to concern yourself with," replied Leon. "Is that a deal?"
"Of course, of course," nodded Graham agreeably.
"So then, what's this top secret mission of yours?"
"I'm sending you to Europe…"
"Sounds more like a vacation."
"Not quite. It's my daughter, Ashley," Graham said, his eyes glistening. "She's been kidnapped; I want you to find her."
--
Later, when he was gone, Graham's trusted aide appeared from a hidden side entrance in his trademark fashion. His gaunt features were paler than usual, bandages and splints adorning his thin body.
"That boy…he knows about Wesker. How?"
"He has connections to S.T.A.R.S., so it's no surprise. In fact, I'm surprised that he took this long to ask such questions…"
"It wouldn't be wise to underestimate him…"
"I wouldn't send a fool to find my daughter."
"And the timing…surely this is no coincidence?"
"Perhaps, but it's not important to us. If he and his renegade friends want to take down Wesker, I'll be more than happy to assist them."
"What about this supposed opposition from the Salon conglomerate? They'll probably be sending in their own agents."
"I know," said Graham, picking up a folder. "I'm actually counting on them doing so…"
"You speak as if you had someone in mind…"
"Hopefully someone who can help cleanse me from this whole sordid affair…"
"What do you mean?"
"Ada Wong," replied Graham, tossing the folder to his assistant. "Her and Kennedy have…history. Salon thinks they're clever enough to use her to get to Wesker, but he's probably on to them. Just as we are. But more importantly, Leon knows nothing of her role. Him discovering her alive, seemingly working with Wesker…"
"She's quite beautiful," said Monten, glancing at the photo. "You certain he will kill her?"
"If he doesn't, she will surely kill him to keep her cover."
"But what about Ashley…isn't he the one rescuing her? What if this Ada woman gets him first?"
"He will kill that woman, of this much I am certain. His duty is all that drives him. Why, he helped eliminate a young girl he once called his friend in the name of this office. No doubt he'll do the same here. According to these psych files, the guilt that remains from his role in the Birkin mission will only make him protect Ashley that much more…arduously."
"But counting so much on one person…is secrecy that important?"
"It is. If the world finds out my daughter was kidnapped, attempts would only increase, worsen. I would be exposed, weakened. I cannot allow that to happen…not now, not ever," he said, shaking his head. "But just to be safe, I want our very best men ready to back him up."
"Wesley has already begun spinning a story for the media outlets, sir, about her studying abroad. He was an excellent choice for your Press Secretary…"
"Wesley is a good man, and even better at his job. We can trust him."
"Can we say the same for Leon Kennedy? He knows so much and doesn't seem to be a…supporter of yours."
"He already knows too much, but he has no idea what to do with what he knows…"
"And our suspicions regarding the crash? Are you certain you want him digging through that mess with what he might find?"
"If my suspicions are correct, his worst fears shall be confirmed in Europe."
"…You think Krauser is working for Pharmaceutical Salon as well?"
"No, I don't. We know he was the one who kidnapped Ashley, but she has no real value to them; even corporations such as they are above such petty personal blackmail. No…there is another player involved here. Someone staying close to the shadows, manipulating Krauser."
"Probably Wesker…or a possible third party."
"I'm not sure, but that's what Leon is going to find out, whether he wants to or not."
"But…he knows nothing of all this. How can you be certain he will pursue it?"
"You ever fish, Monten," asked Graham suddenly, his eyes looking past his assistant.
"…Once, sir, but I never got the hang of it."
"A good fisherman uses the best bait money can buy to catch the hungry fish. A true fisherman, however, knows that it is how the bait is presented that will determine if he goes hungry that night."
"I see…and Ashley? Using her as…bait this way doesn't bother you?"
Graham inhaled slowly, an empty look coming into his eyes.
"I love my daughter more than anything in this world, old friend. But I have no choice at this point but to make the most of what there is," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Throughout history, men of importance have had to set aside their own emotional attachments for the good of the many. This…burden is no different than the one we ask American citizens to bear everyday, to send their loved ones off to war, to fight for the lost causes of old, heartless men," he said tiredly. "Still, if only I'd known…how short our time was…"
"She will be fine, sir. Leon Kennedy has never once failed a mission."
Nodding once, Graham turned away to the windows, his watery eyes focusing on the sprawling green of the White House lawn. He had passed it everyday on his way to work, envying the immaculate view of Pennsylvania Avenue. But now, watching from the other side of the fence, he could find no beauty in it.
"Everything must end, sooner or later," he whispered.
--
The purple liquid in the vial shifted slightly in the light, reflecting the shaded eyes studying it. It disappeared into the man's gloved hand, the motion quick and decisive.
"This is quite a find, Ada," said Wesker, clutching the vial. "But why bring it to me?"
"No one else in the world would…appreciate that like you would, I thought."
"And since when did my appreciation for…such things matter to you?"
"When you said what you did, about my…inability to perform certain tasks, it…annoyed me. Proving you wrong has always been a…hobby of mine. Wouldn't you agree?"
Wesker laughed, his spirits high from to her precious delivery.
"So you wish to prove your…value to me? That I was…underestimating you all this time?"
"I'm sitting here, and rather healthy at that, aren't I? Despite your…best efforts?"
"An interesting outlook on…previous events, I must admit. And not entirely untrue," he nodded solemnly. "What is it you want in exchange?"
"What any employee wants…"
"A raise?"
"A promotion."
He stroked his chin, watching her carefully. "And why is it I should trust you, in light of your recent…transgressions?"
"You're holding it in your hand."
"No matter the value of this vaccine, it isn't enough to buy my trust, Ada. You of all people should know that."
"Then I suppose I'll just have to take it to one of your competitors," she said, rising from her chair and extending her hand. "Maybe Pharmaceutical S—?"
"And what makes you think I would simply give this back to you once I had it in my hands," he asked, holding the vial back with a smirk. "My men disarmed you quite a ways back…"
"We've all learned valuable lessons in the past few weeks, wouldn't you say, Wesker?"
"Some more than others, but I don't see—"
With a subtle twist of her wrist, Ada's slim wristwatch opened to reveal a nozzle, spraying a thin mist into Wesker's face. Choking on the poison, he was helpless as Ada vaulted over the desk, kicking him squarely in the chest. As he fell, he twisted to his side, landing in time to see the barrel of a large handgun leveled at his forehead, the same handgun he kept hidden under his desk's central panel. But no one else should have known about that gun…
"Admit it," she cooed seductively. "You missed me."
"Welcome home, Ada," said Wesker.
END
Note: If you're wondering what the hell Pharmaceutical Salon is, it's the company Ada mentions in her RE4 mini game (PS2 version only, sadly), "Pharm S". I took the liberty of naming it "Salon"; sounded foreign, which was the basis for the idea. I was imagining a French/Canadian company forcing their way into the market post-Umbrella, focusing mostly on cosmetics and related research (which explains the head of the company, who's so old yet looks so young).
One piece that I regretfully wasn't able to include was the conclusion of the jungle facility. I had meant to have Sherry nearly kill Ada and Claire, but in a moment of weakness, let them go. Or something along those lines; the main point being Sherry can't remember Claire. I guess we'll just have to assume Ada destroyed the Nyx with that bomb and they made it out without further incident. Also, if you're wondering why Ada didn't just kill Wesker in their reunion, well…she wants to shaft him first, of course. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all.
One thing that I really liked about this "ending" is how Graham partly vindicates himself. Earlier on, we think he's this hypocrite who tells people to do one thing while doing another, but at the end, we see him taking his own advice. He makes the best of the situation, no matter how terrible it is (sort of what he tells a younger Leon). I hope this elicits a little bit of sympathy for the poor guy.
This is the "end", but look forward to an epilogue to tie together any final bits that will be coming rather soon.
