Chapter Sixteen

Heartbeat

Claire gasped and tried to reconcile the fact that yes, the man who had just torn through his heavy leather restraints was in fact Leon Kennedy. "Why... How...?"

"Whatever he pumped into me, I don't think it had quite the effect he'd anticipated," Leon replied grimly. He leaped to the floor and rolled his head, the cracking of his neck making her wince. In two quick strides he closed the distance between them and yanked the restraints from her arms.

Claire sat up as he freed her legs, rubbing her shoulders. "We have to move. Wesker's gone after my brother, and Ada's with him."

"Ada..." Leon's eyes flashed darkly. "You're right. Let's go."

They both shot for the door and skidded to a halt. "We don't know where we're going," Claire realized out loud. Leon was already back at the terminal, rapidly scanning laboratory layouts and trying to match them with the security shot still frozen onscreen. Claire watched the muscles in his neck, tense and taut, ready for action, and she realized several things all at once: they still didn't know the long term effects of the virus Wesker had pumped into Leon; Leon was still no match for Wesker -- he'd emphasized the diluted nature of the sample -- and she really could use a washroom right about now.

But she didn't have time to think about any of that, because Leon was already straightening up, a piece of paper chugging into the print tray beside him. "Got it. Let's move, Claire."

She swallowed any response and ran after him, trusting him to lead the way. After all, what was she supposed to say? At least his eyes weren't glowing red. Did that mean Wesker's new improved virus was a success? Would Wesker use it to become even stronger, even more inhuman?

What a mess. She was beginning to wish she'd never come looking for her brother in the first place, just stayed home and studied art and never heard the word Umbrella unless it was a rainy day. Wiser but sadder, as one of her university profs had summed up the state of modern affairs.

Screw that. She wasn't going to let Umbrella or Wesker rule her life. Somehow they were going to get out of here, all of them, intact. And from there she'd see what she could do about piecing her life together.

Good timing for the major life decisions, Claire. Now wake up and get ready to fight.

Fight? "Leon, we're unarmed."

"I know. We're making a quick detour." He skidded around a corner, seized a metal door, and tore it right off its hinges. Claire gaped in shock as an alarm echoed through the still hall, making her jump. "Sorry," he added with a grin. He seemed to be taking just a little too much pleasure in this newfound strength of his.

Of course he'd led them to the armory. Claire started grabbing weapons and ammo, as much as she could carry. "Leon, you know you're not as strong as him, don't you?"

"I'm a hell of a lot closer than I was before."

"Yeah, but that's not going to be enough. If you go after him he'll kill you. Just remember that, okay?"

Leon glanced at her and smiled, for a moment the boyish rookie cop she remembered. "OK, I promise."

A burden lifting from her chest, Claire jogged after him back into the corridor, the comforting weight of a shotgun bouncing against her hip, a shiny new Glock clutched in her hands.

As they neared another set of double doors, Leon waved at her to slow down. Claire crept up beside him and they positioned themselves on either side of the door. Slowly, Leon eased it open a small amount. Voices emerged from within:

"We've wasted enough time on this." Barry. Claire's heart skipped a beat.

"What do you suggest, we throw her into the pit?" Jill. Which meant...

"Would the two of you quit arguing? Just tie her up and leave her here and let's go before he finds us!" Chris. Oh, God, Chris. Her brother. Claire closed her eyes for a moment, her jaw trembling. She'd never imagined she'd be so happy to hear his voice.

But of course the she in the equation would be Ada. And if they'd defeated Ada, they couldn't have met up with...

A slow, sarcastic round of applause met her ears, followed by the click of automatic weapons -- far more than three. What had Chris done, recruited the entire army? "Well done, Chris," came Wesker's dry, caustic tone. Claire met Leon's eyes and arched her eyebrow. He shook his head slowly -- not yet. Claire shrugged. She figured he was the one infected with Wesker's virus; he probably had a better idea how to go about attacking.

"Wekser," Chris snarled. He stepped forward and ran a hand through his hair, almost forgetting about the shotgun he still held, coming within an inch of jabbing himself in the eye with it. It wasn't quite the cool, controlled image he'd hoped to project to his former boss. With a scowl, he continued: "Where's my sister?"

Wesker leaned against the railing, staring down thirty odd automatic weapons with a smirk. "Safe and sound. For now. A situation which can change if you don't withdraw from this base immediately."

"We aren't going anywhere!" Jill leaped up beside him, and Chris felt a surge of pride. She was so fierce, so indomitable; even now, facing Wesker down, their lives at stake and so much more, she was ready to fight.

"Not without Claire," Chris agreed. He felt Barry's eyes boring into the back of his neck and added with a sigh, "Oh, alright. Claire and Leon. Where are they?"

But Wesker had apparently dismissed him. He focused his attention on the woman at Chris' feet, her dress torn, her face bruised. Gasping for breath, Ada Wong met her employer's eyes. "Sorry," she offered in a surprisingly calm voice. "I was slightly outnumbered."

Someone in the ranks behind him snickered, but no one else reacted. Chris sympathized. They still stood with weapons at the ready, awaiting an order to attack, retreat -- to do anything. Trouble was, he didn't know what to tell them. So far Wesker hadn't killed anybody; that was probably a best case scenario. He didn't think they'd be able to kill him, and even if they were, what if he'd stashed Claire someplace else? How would they find her?

But everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to give an order.

Except for Wesker, who was talking to Ada. "Don't let it trouble you," he was saying, crossing smoothly towards her, seemingly oblivious to the weapons trained on him, following his progress. He passed within an inch of Chris as he bent to help Ada to her feet, and it was all Chris could do to keep from lunging at the man's throat.

And then, in one lightning quick movement, Wesker spun.

Chris was staring down the barrel of a Colt Magnum handgun.

Their eyes met.

And Wesker fired.