Chapter Twelve

Complication

As Jill watched Chris, she reflected how proud she was of him. He'd taken her words to heart, and for the last week had made a clear, concentrated, and largely successful effort to bring himself under control. It was showing in the gym, his fighting and shooting becoming less erratic; it was showing in their relationship; it was showing in their professional life -- such as it was. In fact, she never would have predicted he'd make such a total turnaround, and he'd done it all for her. Her heart glowed when she thought of that. She was proud of him, so proud she could hardly bear it.

"YOU WHAT?" Chris screamed, his knuckles white on the kitchen chair. With a flip of his wrist, he sent the chair into the far wall.

Well, Jill thought, not right now.

But she couldn't blame him for his current mood. She shared it. Her anger didn't explode like Chris', but it simmered, drawing you in like a spider trapping a fly. "You didn't feel you could trust us?" she asked now in her coolest, darkest voice.

Barry held up two gloved hands and backed toward the door. "Look, you two are angry. Why don't I come back later?"

"You're not going anywhere!" Chris grabbed the bigger man's arm and yanked him back into the kitchen. "You knew where my sister was, you son of a bitch? You KNEW, and you didn't tell us? You and that headstrong little punk just walked in there thinking you'd take Wesker down between you?"

"Because," Jill added, her calmness even more unnatural after Chris' outburst, "they didn't trust us."

Barry spun on her. "Jill, you know that's not true. And Chris, I would have told you if I'd know where Claire was. I knew where Ada was. Ada. Not Claire. I didn't even know if she'd lead us anywhere... and I didn't want to get your hopes up. Besides, you know Leon had the best chance of sweet talking Ada."

Jill bobbed her head. "Yes, that worked out really well for you, didn't it?"

"I wanted to come back for you, but Leon..."

"Oh, so you take orders from Kennedy now?" Chris spun in place and hunched over the sink. Jill wondered if he was going to throw up or if he just couldn't stand looking Barry in the eye. "Y'know, Barry, ever since Chambers took off, it's been the three of us -- the last remaining members of STARS. We've managed to stay a team through a lot of crap. But this..."

"Chris, don't be such an idiot. You know I'm still on your side. And I don't take orders from anyone."

In answer Chris swung his fist into the wall.

A shocked silence followed as Barry and Jill stared at the crumpled drywall spidering away from his fist. Swallowing her anger, Jill took a step forward. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not bloody okay! My sister's trapped with a maniac, now he has Kennedy for motivation, and I think I just broke my hand!"

Heaving a sigh, Jill pried his fist out of the wall, ignoring his yelp of pain. "It's not broken," she informed him, flexing the fingers. "Just bruised. Serves you right, too."

Chris shook his head. He squeezed her arm with his good hand and stumbled to the only chair he hadn't tossed away. Slumping into it, he shook his head and leveled his gaze at Barry. "You have ten seconds to tell me where she is."

"No," Jill interrupted. "We're not playing that game anymore, Chris, remember? If we run off half-cocked we're going to end up in the same situation as Leon." She glanced at Barry. "How did you escape, by the way?"

A dark flush stole over Barry's cheeks. "I was, uh, I wasn't inside."

"What?"

"I was outside," he repeated loudly. "In the chopper. Kennedy can't fly worth a damn, and he wanted to make sure he had a quick getaway."

Chris gaped at him. "So you let him go in there by himself? Were you trying to get him killed?" He thought for a moment and added, "Good job."

"I wasn't trying to get him killed! How was I supposed to know Ada would betray us?"

Jill snorted. "Oh, I dunno... Maybe because she's betrayed us every other time we've had anything to do with her? Because she's a cold-hearted mercenary? Because she's so desperate for what Wesker can give her she'd sell out her own mother?"

"Okay, okay! We're not all psychology experts."

Chris shook his head, ignoring them. "We're going to have to call in every favour we can manage," he muttered, finger tapping restlessly against the table. "And pile up some new ones besides. And we'll have to move quickly. Claire has a soft spot for that little weasel; if Wesker threatens him, she'll do anything he says." He raised his eyes to meet theirs. "Does anyone know why he took her, by the way? I assumed it was to get to me -- but she's been gone a week without a word. Even for Wesker, that's carrying the game a little far."

"I don't know." Jill rose and headed for the other room, mentally running contacts. "Maybe someone can find out. I'll get on the computer; Barry, you get on the phone. Chris, you just concentrate on keeping it together, okay? Make some coffee or something."

"I think I'll put some ice on my hand, actually."

"Well, make coffee after." She ducked out before he could answer, satisfied with the last word.

Which was good, because that was about all she was satisfied with right now. Chris' words weighed on her more heavily than she wanted him to know. Why had Wesker taken Clare? She knew her captain; he didn't do anything without a reason. And she was very afraid they wouldn't like the answer when they found it.