Chapter 14. "The Only Life We Ever Knew."

The Angel Wings. That's what Hunk called the wind

that came slashing down Washington streets this time of year.

The wind got cold and bitter wind when the sun went down. When it came to laying low, there was the option to walk around in plain sight did have its merits. Or… that was what Nighthawk would tell him daily. For Hunk's case, he'd instead go to the mountains or the mid-west plains. There is a safe house that he set up to use. It was not up for him, though...

Hunk and Nighthawk had gone into the seediest bar they could find with it offering Wi-Fi. It was needed to plan for future operations.

The bar door felt sturdy as Nighthawk pulled it back as the light entered. The pilot entered first, and the mercenary followed closely behind. The bar had darkened grey walls. On their immediate left, there were some framed photos on the wall. Sure the place could use a little work. The stools were darkened and faded red, and the fake leather finished had several cuts and holes in them. The door hinges need oil with the chipping of the paint off of the door itself. However, but it felt homey in its way.

The door opened to reveal the sunlight behind the two mercenaries. Nighthawk noticed a seat on the far left side isolated well enough from the patrons' rest. He tapped Hunk's shoulder, and the two made their way to the table. The bartender looked up and glanced at his co-worker to get their drinks.

Hunk sat on the opposite side with a shoulder bag on his shoulder. He immediately opened the bag and pulled out a laptop. He started to search through data.

On the other side of the bar was a jukebox. It started to play the song 'Fly Me to the Moon.'

The mercenary distantly listened to the song as he tooled through the web for a way to find a certain son of a bitch. Hunk sat with his back to a wall. He started to search through old articles from Raccoon City. A website only he had access to thanks to old allies. Nighthawk glanced at the door to keep an eye out in case of a potential threat.

A blonde woman took a small notepad and walked to the table of the two Mercs. Her skin was of a slight tan with shoulder-length brunette hair. Her clothing curved with her build, and she stood before the table and leaned on her right leg before she took the Mercs' drinks. She wore a Flowy top over her jeans. The shirt only helped project the shape of her breasts. She prepped her notepad and looked at Hunk first.

"What you up for?" Nighthawk did not break his attention from the waitress. "The usual?"

The mercenary recalled specific keyword phrases as he typed them in for a search engine. "The usual."

"So, you here on business?" The waitress asked in Hunk's direction.

"Well, yes. My associate and I are on our way to see a potential investor."

"Interesting." The waitress replied. While Nighthawk told her the drinks they wanted and as she told them the Wi-Fi password, he glanced at her name tag. Hanna was her name. It was not like he would not at least check out her… assets.

…Five minutes later...

Hunk sipped a cup of Charles Shaw when Hanna returned. Nighthawk got whiskey.

When Hanna gave them their drinks, she spent a moment to play with her hair seductively. A smirk painted the pilot's face as he pushed the chair closer to the waitress.

Hanna stared at him from the side. "No thanks." Her eyes caught the sight of Hunk on the computer as the pilot rolled his eyes. She did a little fix to her hair.

"Hey there…" She whispered, and the waitress made a proposition for sex to Hunk. Her eyes focused on him and trailed down. "You've got a lawyer's ass!" She smirked. "Yup, it's firm."

Nighthawk bared his teeth as he watched the scene in utter disbelieve.

Hunk did not break his concentration away from the laptop. "Sorry, lady, I don't have experience with dancers or lawyers." He replied. Hanna facepalmed, shrugged, and walked back to the bar.

"James, I'm not sure if you're dumb or pretending to be dumb," Nighthawk said maliciously and crossed his arms. "I'm beginning to think I have rotten luck with women."

"Give it a rest already. Check this out?" Hunk tapped on the pilot's shoulder

There on the screen was a picture of a John Murphy in a blue Italian suit, posing next to a shiny sensor emblem that was the sign of umbrella, the new corporation at the time. "What does this mean exactly? A picture doesn't prove much."

Hunk took a breath, his head resting on his hand. "I think this is what Party Girl learned from her research. Notice how his name almost always around whenever Oswell E. Spencer is involved?"

"And your point is?" The pilot's eyes widened in seconds... "No way!"

That was the moment the mercenary felt out of words, unsure if he should feel angry or sad or shocked beyond belief.

The mercenary almost laughed at the turn of events, and perhaps he should enjoy some ego boost of the power they just gained.

"We're the children of Mr. Murphy here," Nighthawk tried to smile but did not want to lose his composure. "That's another reason to have many target us."

Hunk's eyes caught a name written down on another page, 'Judith Bratt.' With that, he turned it off and closed the laptop.

Nighthawk clenched his fist. "That sleazy son of a bitch," he whispered. "Still, I won't call this a stable plan going on here."

"I still don't get it; what would Nikolai gain?" Hunk tapped a pen against his forehead.

"I think we need to visit daddy, perhaps prepare for an early Christmas dinner or something," Nighthawk said slyly and checked his watch. "We better get up, remember our date?"

"Yeah."

Hunk and Nighthawk pulled out their wallets and paid for their drinks at the counter as they walked out. They walked out of the bar and checked the half-empty street. Their rendezvous should be close by.

Both walked at opposite angles of the street and the same pace. Eventually, they took a turn to the left and walked through the street in silence. After 5 minute walk, there it stood, a long, dark, and menacing ally.

It was just a gap between two old terraced houses built many years ago, but it was cold and uninviting. It was like a cavernous moth waited to gobble up anyone who dared enter it. They couldn't see the far end as a large, heavy oak gate had blocked it off many years ago to stop the thieves and misfits of the area cutting through to the wastes that lay beyond the houses' rear. Old and boarded up. Nighthawk watched ahead of them, while Hunk watched their flanks and elevations above them.

There was a story about someone being attacked and murdered in the ally for the pittance in their pocket, but no one knew for sure as it happened many years ago. A set of lights came into view down the alley and immediately switched off as it turned into the alley. The two saw a blue van drive about halfway between them. The pilot kept his eyes on the driver's seat as the mercenary approached the van. A man in a grey hood, his face hidden in the dark.

"Don't take highway 19. A couple of jackasses collided with their cars. One of them even got themselves T-Boned." The man had a high pitched voice when he leaned his head out of the driver's window. Hunk raised his hands to express that he did not plan to become a threat. The driver nodded as he turned the engine off.

"I see two men at the mouth of the alley. Hostile?" Nighthawk asked in a hushed tone.

"Probably paid bodyguards."

"Let's not make this harder than we need to." Nighthawk suggested.

"Agreed." The pilot and the mercenary saw the side van door roll open as the driver stepped out.

When the two came closer, they saw a large set of guns and ammunition neatly arranged on the walls—the same with ammunition set along the van's floor. "Chose what you like. I have a good price on them all."

The first thing that the pilot saw was a Nine-Oh-Nine handgun that hung off the far side. He pointed at it for the Arms Dealer to hand it off to Merc before passing the weapon to the pilot.

"Is the chamber cleared?" Nighthawk asked.

CLICK. The handgun kicked out the yellow brass of a 9mm bullet for the Arms Dealer to catch.

"Huh." The Arms Dealer shrugged as he passed it off.

Nighthawk aimed it toward the asphalt and attempted to get a good feel for the weapon. He tested the grip and ejected an empty magazine the immediately slid it back in to see if he could enter with ease. The gun above all else. Felt… clean. He noticed another weapon as he swapped with the Arms Dealer for another handgun to inspect.

Hunk nodded in the back when he spotted a weapon that could assist them. The Arms Dealer looked over his shoulder and smirked at the mercenary. He walked back into the van and came out with a NeoStead 2000 Double Barrel shotgun.

"A bit on the heavy side." The Arms Dealer said as Hunk inspected the weapon.

"Indeed." Hunk replied. He looked down the sight to the ground and noticed it was slight off-angle but still an easy fix. He popped the barrels down and looked through the barrels. Straight and great for potential engagements. Hunk smirked to himself as he thought of the possibility to blow apart some annoying Hunters or worm monsters.

Nighthawk nodded as he looked up and saw some small-time weapons that could come in handy later on. He got an Uzi submachine gun, and as he held it, he grimaced to himself. "Got anything with range?"

"Judging from your friend. I take it that you two need some firepower in small packages." The Arms Dealer nodded to Hunk, who was borderline cuddling the double-barrel shotgun.

The pilot looked back to the Arms Dealer. "You could say that."

"Well, I think I have something." The Arms Dealer turned to his side and took out a weapons case, and opened it. He checked the chamber and revealed it to Nighthawk.

It was an Assault Rifle, the Steyr AUG A3. The mount on top was naked, but the railing was there if a mod was added—the same with a horizontal grip underneath the gun to offer better stability. Nighthawk smiled as he took hold of the weapon. It was a bit heavier than what he was used to. It even came with a flashlight that could come in handy with any BOW than human targets.

"I like it." The pilot nodded. "I get this one. Can you set it aside while I browse?"

The Arms Dealer nodded as he set the weapon back in the case.

Hunk looked up and noticed a need to put some serious fire rate in certain situations. He saw on the upper wall of the van was an H&K MP7 submachine gun. Good firepower and does not weigh as much. So the mercenary liked it already and added it to his pile to purchase.

In the pile of the handguns that Nighthawk inspected, he decided to go for the Nine-Oh-Nine handgun. He needed something new.

"So, are these purchased separately or together?"

"If you two buy this Dragunov, I can't get rid of. I'll throw in a Glock 17 with a case of hollow points, a case Dragon's Breath shogun shells, and two magazines worth of AP rounds for the AUG." The Arms Dealer smirked.

Hunk and Nighthawk looked at each other.

"Deal," Hunk responded as the weapons and ammunition were all calculated in cost and the two. Even a duffle bag was included in the deal to make the guns and ammo easier to transport.

"If you two need more hardware, don't be strangers." The Arms Dealer waved at the two Mercs as they walked out of the alleyway.

"For sure." Nighthawk replied. "I parked the car in a garage nearby."

"So now that we got some bite. Let's go to practice." Hunk nodded to the thought of figuring out what the hell do they play in this blood-ridden chess game.

…

"Sir?"

"Yes, Starling, just report."

"Is this line secure?"

"Yes, yes," John said impatiently. He was in his penthouse apartment, now, in his bathrobe, and smoked a cigar while he looked out at the lights coming on as street lights were like a rainbow. He tried to focus on the cigar and not think about Wesker's part in all of this. He needed to keep his head clear and act carefully.

"Wait-why are you asking me that? This is your goddamn system! You tell me if it's secure!" John sneered. "I paid you a great deal to make my place safe."

"Sir, yes sir, I just meant-" Sterling spoke nervously.

"Never mind what you meant! Just tell me did you send words to Sergei? What of the children?" John asked.

"We're sure of three of them, sir, they left for Russia safely. Though our loss is... big, data is ruined, and O'Hara and Morrison are dead."

"And my children?"

"We haven't got a definite report on them, sir. The last place we've known is they went to visit a former Spec Ops member code name Party Girl, sir. We cannot locate them after that. After questioning, she has no idea and nothing of what they have planned. We left her alone."

Starling was getting on his nerves, but he let it go. "Don't make excuses, Starling, find James and Mike. I want them dead!"

The young man did the military greet and continued. "Sir, yes, sir. I have discovered that there was data stolen in the area before the purge. I suspect it's something had to do with their plan..."

"Nikolai's?"

"I think so. Sadly there is no survivor from that place. No one to tell us what happened down there..."

"Dammit! He could have it and move a step ahead of us! Wait-what about surveillance cameras in the area down in that section where they went?"

"Checked it with Nikolai. Cameras were blotted out in the area. We are only able to see small footage of the mercenary with some redhead girl looking over the T-Abyss. I'm not sure if it's a fail in the system or someone else was playing here. The last footage we were able to take was for Hunk, Nighthawk, and that girl was able to get out of place."

John turned from the window, walked to his desk, and stubbed out the cigar in a glass ashtray. "Who was that girl?"

Starling was hesitant a bit, trying to remember what Nikolai said. "I heard that she has the likeness of Kristen, another member of the group Human Unit Never Killed project."

There was a strange glistering in John's eyes, and a look Starling knew all too well. 'Oh boy, this isn't good.' He thought to himself, and the doorman was ringing from downstairs. John went to the door and touched the intercom button. "Yeah?"

A nasal voice on the intercom said, "Mr. Murphy, I have Miss Wong here to see you? Miss Ada Wong?"

Ada? Or Lucky Quinn or whatever her name is. Why is this witch here? She always plays both sides. She might be the new head of the club, going against him most disgustingly, but still, she wasn't dumb enough, and she couldn't just bust in here anytime she wanted. Still, John was curious about the out of nowhere visit, and he doubted Wong was here to do him harm. She would never come in person to do that. "Okay, send her up."

He looked back to his phone. "Keep up the search, Sterling. Give me an update when you find something."

"Yes, sir," Sterling replied before the two hung up.

He opened his door and stuck his head out. His bodyguards were gawping at some video on a cell phone. "You two!" John called, making them jump. "Stop pulling your puds and get in here! I've got a couple of uglies from the Asian mob coming up here! Call Mark in here-he can watch the door."

"Sure, boss, we were just-" John left the door and went to make himself a drink at the little glass bar across from his desk. The men came in a young, redhead, mercenary, and a tall blonde muscling partner. They had their Mac 10 weapons with the straps over their shoulders. "You two, leave the door ajar, get over here, and stand on either side of the bar. Keep your weapons in your hands, safeties off, but keep them pointed at the floor." He said and took a seat on the couch, legs crossed.

A minute went by when the woman finally came through the door. She wore a black business suit.

"Mister Murphy, so nice of you to allow me in." Ada smugly stated as he just smirked at her. He thought of how she didn't change much after all this time.

"Come on in, take a seat." He casually responded.

Ada nodded and seductively moved before she took a seat on the couch on the opposite side of him.

"So what do you want, Wong? Our friendship ended years ago." John said without the urge to insult dogs at the end of the sentence.

Ada smirked. "You know me, Murphy. For the sake of our friendship, I'm willing to offer my services... I could help you take down Wesker, and you can continue working on the T-Abyss."

John shook his head and looked down at the ground. "What made you think I'll accept your offer?"

"Because I have someone with a good position who will be helping you," Ada uttered. "Morgan Lansdale." At the mention of the name, John was taken aback that he couldn't speak at first.

Morgan, former Chief Sectary of Foreign Affairs for a president back in 1988, is now the leader of The Federal Bioterrorism Commission. Something that could be seen as a step down for what the man had accomplished so far. "Why him?"

"See?" Ada chuckled. "I know you will be interested in listening to what I want to say. I have a plan, and it's up to you to take it or leave it."

...

The weather was frigid. One morning, at least to the survivor, or maybe she is coming down with fever. Claire got up in the afternoon, not her usual self, she changed her clothes to something comfortable. The outfit was a black and pink jacket with zipped pockets and a hoodie, and heavy black pants. She chose to go out for a stroll before Annie woke up. She didn't rest much because of her morning walk to find a job.

The house was… silent.

The survivor opened the door and breathed deeply, welcoming the fresh air.

As the survivor stepped out of the house, she began to shiver with cold. It was piercing underneath all the layers. She looked to her right and saw a car pull out and make the turnoff to her street.

Claire just wanted to get out of the house. So she walked along the driveway and to the sidewalk. It was still a bit late in the afternoon, but still. She looked to her right to see a greenhouse with white outlines on the edges. The windows were closed, and for the rest of it as well—a bit recluse, but who was she to judge.

She gave a drawn-back half-smile when she recalled the occasions when people rudely asked her about Raccoon City.

Just on that alone, Claire immediately looked up to the clouds on the memory of a little girl she knew… Sherry?

'I better give her a call some time.' The survivor nodded to herself.

The walk itself was only about ten minutes long to go around the block. When she returned to her side of the block, she noticed a car in the driveway. Just on the color, she knew not to be alarmed. The driver's seat door opened up to reveal her brother.

"Hey, Claire. I hope I'm not in a bad time." He waved.

"Hey Chris, Nah. I just went for a walk. Come on in, please. Annie isn't awake yet."

"I'm up," Annie called from the front door. "I woke up at the sound of you moving around. Give me a minute."

Claire shrugged while Annie walks back up to the bathroom with a smile. She placed her hands on her hips and walked toward Chris' car.

"How's Jill doing?"

"She took the day off for herself." He replied and returned to his seat. Keys were in the ignition. "Well, I thought I'd drop by and see if we could do something together."

"I see." She winked at him. "So, where are you taking us?"

Chris tilted his head slightly and smiled. "I'm taking you to a nice restaurant. It had the best chicken wings and soups. I go there a lot."

Claire rolled her eyes. "How about we go somewhere nice, a French restaurant close by. Last night we ordered dinner, and it was the best I had in a while."

Chris frowned, thinking how this moment is a severe Deja-vu. "Why can't you just enjoy the moment and come with me to my favorite place. You won't regret it, I promise."

"Chris, stop trying to order me around. Since you want to take me somewhere nice, what's wrong with choosing a place I like?"

They heard the front door close, Annie run toward them. She wore a casual beanie unisex skullies winter dark grey hat, a white jacket, and a pink shirt underneath it along with blue pants. She opened the door to the back seat and went in.

"Thanks for waiting. It's nice of you to do this t..." she stopped talking once she saw the look on their faces.

"God, this feels like eighth grade all over again. Why are you doing this to me?" The survivor exclaimed as she walked back to the house to get her wallet.

"The question is, why are you behaving like this every time I try to be nice to you?" Chris shouted the last words and started the engine of the car.

"That's not been nice. This is ordering me around." she fired back. "I'm not going to that restaurant," Claire shouted as she walked through the main living room.

Annie leaned up from the back seat. "What's going on here, can't choose a place? How about we go to an Italian restaurant? I can show you the way."

"She'll see you soon enough." Chris gave a half-hearted smile. A minute later, Claire walked out of the house and locked the door. She got in the passenger seat, and the car pulled out.

Chris drove through the street and took a turn to the left. The sibling exchanged looks for a moment.

"Fine by me, I like Italian food," Chris said.

"Sure," Claire replied.

Annie sighed in relief. "It is in the middle of a mall. I want to go there to look for a job."

"You're not coming with us?" Chris asked, looking back at her.

Annie smiled back at him, such a sweet guy she had grown to admire. "Nah, you guys need your time. I'll meet you after an hour in the front.

…

The restaurant is situated in a large shopping mall, and it was almost 40 minutes away from their home. The group had bouts of small talk of themselves. Chris spoke of how there is some guy named Clive O'Brian that's been asking for him. Annie thought that maybe it could be time to get some pictures for the house, like Ansel Adams. Claire felt that it could be time to get a new toolbox. She hasn't taken apart a car engine in a while.

The restaurant is on the 18th floor and offers a nice open sky view.

The waitress led them inside to a table booth. This moment was like years ago with their parents. The two of them will run to the table before the mother and pick a chair near the window.

"Mine." She would shout.

"That is not fair, Claire." He would frown on his seat in the middle.

Chris took a seat and spoke his order. "I want 2 Caprese Salad with Pesto Sauce. 1 Pasta Carbonara Claire?" He said and gave her the menu.

Claire stared at the menu for a moment, many of them she didn't like much. "I want Lemon Basil Spaghetti, thanks."

"You got it." The waitress finished writing and went to another table.

Chris and Claire stared at each other. Their eyes say so many things, but it seems none of them dared to talk. "Chris, did you ever wonder if we were ever wrong with certain morals, how our lives turned out to be?"

Chris sighed. "What can I say? It comes with the lifestyle, to be prepared for those who can't do things for themselves. Someone has to show the world what's right." He paused and closed his eyes, trying to push the image away. "Ever since our parents died..."

"You don't realize it, do you?" The survivor whispered, she prevented herself from letting out any tears. "You have ignored me. All you showed me is do this and do that. Sometimes, you need to just back off..." she stopped mid-sentence after she saw Chris's face. In years, she saw Chris Redfield, the holder of the family like that.

"I've been there for us ever since what happened. What else am I supposed to do if you fail or something happens?" he allowed tears to seep down his cheeks. "Mom always knew how to make us feel stronger."

"Chris, I never asked you to be mom and dad for me."

Chris held his hand, stopping her. "Then who would be if I didn't? Who is going to make things better? Who is going to take care of us?"

That was the moment Claire felt like the biggest bitch on the earth. She never imagined Chris was hiding all of this inside. "I'm so sorry." The survivor reached for Chris's hand across the table.

"You shouldn't have to hide this from me, Chris. We need each other to survive in this life. Do you know I was thinking of you the whole time I was trapped in the middle of that outbreak? I know how heartbroken you will be if..."

"Just stop. I'll be there for us until you prove me otherwise." Chris retorted as they stared back at her.

Claire grimaced to herself. 'I don't need a parent. I need a brother.' She looked away as she recalled all the times when Chris was intrusive on her life. It doesn't help that he can't let things ever just happen. She wanted to bring up some stuff about their past, which she knows that he won't listen to.

"Well-" The survivor stopped mid-sentence when Annie returned to the table.

"Did you two order already? Give me a minute, and we'll be good to go."

Claire and Chris shared a glance at one another.

"Fine by me." Chris smiled.

"Same." Claire nodded.

"Great." Annie sat down beside Claire.

It was a mostly quiet evening…

Merry Christmas everyone and happy new year. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this chapter. :) Oh boy what did Claire get herself into?

Special thanks to my beta reader The95will.

Thank you very much Saito 87 I truly appreciate it. I'm glad you liked the way I wrote the two. Indeed Hunk was very patient with her through their time together...

Welcome back reaper fan. :D lol it's like the eclipse huh?

I agree with you there, I find it really annoying too, like they're isolated from the rest of the world or something lol

In this case here Mr and Mrs Murphy :D I'm soo glad I made you see it yay. Yup it's far from done, it is 20 chapters or even more.