While no stranger to the beckoning of the United States president by now, it still did not bode well for such a late summons.
The seasoned DSO agent walked with pace and purpose across the polished marble floor of the white house he'd come to be extremely familiar after frequent visits for well over a decade now, the sound of his smart black dress shoes echoed around the spacious halls as the many mirrors along his path stole glances at his navy blue suit and blond fringe containing hints of grey that draped over his right eye.
Finally the agent reached a set of grand oak double doors and pulled them open with ease by the golden trimmed handles to reveal absolute chaos. There were people running left and right, files scattered across desks and floors and the constant ringing of one phone or another never stopped for more than a few seconds.
A sigh escaped the man's lips as he blocked out the noise around him and pressed on to another set of doors at the far end of the room even more lavishly decorated than the last with a gleaming plaque above reading 'President Daniel Harthorn'. Another more emotive sigh left the agent's lips as he remembered another man that once occupied this very office that he'd been close with, trying to stop that train of thought before the grisly end worked about as well as the G virus for a certain mad scientist.
Nevertheless he had been called for an important reason and so gripped the handles of the fine oak doors before opening them wide and setting his gaze upon the person currently sitting at the dark mahogany desk in front of a large glass window which provided a lovely view of the almost full moon hanging high in the night sky, highlighting just how late or rather early this impromptu meeting was.
Daniel Harthorn was a middle aged man with dark brown short hair that greyed at the temples but was styled in a spikey fashion causing the main to appear years younger than he actually was, he wore a dark brown suit and caramel dress shoes with a pair of reading glasses at the end of his nose to complete the look.
The president looked up through tired eyes from the documents he was sifting through and spread a smile across his face as he took off his glasses and placed them into a case located inside his desk drawer.
"Ah Mr. Kennedy, a pleasure to see you again, I only wish once it could be under better circumstances" Harthorn spoke with familiarity to the DSO agent as they'd built a sturdy working relationship in the years since his predecessor's untimely exit from office.
However the man was under no illusion that the famous agent in front of him trusted him in the slightest, after everything that happened including and after Tall Oaks, Harthorn was well aware of how close the man standing before him and Adam Benford had been. Trust like that with someone like him took extenuating circumstances to build which had not yet occurred even after almost 8 years.
The DSO agent waited for a moment before politely punctuating a response, in years gone by his impulsive nature had become somewhat refined.
"Morning Mr. President, I assume I have been called here for something of great importance given the hour?" he inquired barely moving his lips and keeping his body language still as he'd been practiced for in recent years.
"Y-yes indeed, I recently received a personal message from an old acquaintance of yours, Captain Redfield of the BSAA" the president replied shortly.
The agent's facial features only slightly moved in surprise however it was unnoticeable to the man before him.
"I wasn't aware that the top brass of the BSAA even had a direct line to you sir, nevermind a captain even one of his status" the agent indirectly complimented.
"It was setup not long ago in a bid to increase communication between the BSAA and DSO to coordinate bioweapon intelligence gathering and execution missions, however that is besides the point, Captain Redfield is in a bit of a sticky situation right now and I was hoping given the history between you two you'd be the perfect man to help" Harthorn informed the agent gently trying not to come across as too pushy.
The agent's thoughts briefly drifted to a mission that seemed so long ago now, the last time he'd seen Chris in person. The man had helped him rise back up to become a proper DSO agent after the bomb detonation in DC sent his squad to the morgue and him into a drunken spiral of despair, he owed him one.
"As you wish sir, background information?" he asked the president pointedly earning a grateful smile from the man.
"It appears that the daughter of the Winter's has been kidnapped by a powerful bioweapon the locals refer to as 'Mother Miranda'. This particular bioweapon and even the Winters themselves appear to be heavily linked to the outbreak of a mold bioweapon in Dulvey, Louisiana four years ago" the president elaborated whilst trying to discern the agent's thought process over the past few years.
After all, this was the man behind the infamous Kennedy report of 2004. The office certainly had some headaches and their fair share of chuckles dealing with documenting that particular file, but it seemed since the end of the attack on New York in 2014 the man had decided to shift his focus and become a very reserved agent. Not something unwelcome if the president had anything to say after hearing rumors of his previous attitude and escapades but certainly somewhat strange a change to make after so many years.
"The Baker incident" was all the agent replied with before falling silent once more.
"Yes... truly a mess that was thankfully contained by Blue Umbrella and Captain Redfield, however the importance of this comparison is that it seems 'Miranda' had been interested in the child of the Winters for their potential as the offspring of two people infected by the same strain. The child is now in her grasp and she was tracked to a remote village in the middle of the Romanian mountains. Given the location, unknown potential of hostiles and current matters elsewhere that require more even more pressing attention, you have been assigned on a stealth mission with Redfield to infiltrate the village and obtain the child" Harthorn briefed the agent concisely.
"Sir if I may, why is it I am being placed on this mission when Captain Redfield and his Hound squad seem more than capable of stealth operations given their history prior to this incident" he asked his superior respectfully.
While it was true he owed the captain, this was Chris goddamn Redfield, the man who punched boulders for fun. Another thought that sprung to mind was that he'd heard Chris was in command of an elite squad codenamed 'Hound' that were extensively trained for such engagements.
The face of the president visibly lost a few shades of colour as the question hung heavily in the air.
"Unfortunately during his transmission, Captain Redfield informed me that most of his squad was massacred when Miranda intercepted the transporting holding Winters and his child, she slaughtered anyone who survived the crash besides Winters for an unknown reason and kidnapped the child. The rest of Hound squad fell victim to the hordes of beast like monsters commanded by what he explained to me as a 'psychic metal hammer wielding fucker'" Harthorn explained with some confusion and curiosity at the name Redfield had given to the latter entity.
"So you're saying Chris is alone in hostile territory trying to salvage what I assume to have been a protection assignment with no backup and limited supplies?" the agent accurately summed up the situation with just a little emotion bleeding into his tone, something the president did not miss.
"That is unfortunately correct, this isn't a publicly known assignment due to the sensitive nature of the child and connection to the Baker incident, only you and I known of the Captain's current situation and I would prefer to have it stay that way. Given you have worked with him before and your extensive repertoire I believe that you are the only person able to complete this task. So what do you say agent Kennedy, ready to relive your glory days?" Harthorn asked one of if not the most famous DSO agent.
Leon S. Kennedy allowed the corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly, almost in polar opposite contrast to the last time he and Chris Redfield had worked together, this time the man couldn't have been more ready to start.
"When do I leave sir?" Leon replied with a small smirk that broke his professional façade and matched closer to the man Harthorn had heard so much about.
"I knew I could count on you agent Kennedy, your plane leaves in a couple of hours and I suggest you pack heavy if you catch my drift" the president winked.
"Always do these days sir" he replied with a tone he hadn't felt on his tongue for a very long time.
'This is going to be an interesting mission' both men privately thought but for two very different reasons.
Leon returned to his penthouse suite courtesy of the US government straight after the meeting paying the many rookie agents and fangirls no mind as he brushed past them all on the way out of the white house, he was far too old for that life anymore was the thought in his tired mind.
At 44 years old, Leon was beginning to feel his age catching up to him following a few too many dangerous missions, bullets taken and scrapes delivered in his younger years. The older agent was no slouch however, he still kept in excellent form that he believed could still keep up with Redfield, unfortunately the speed and flexibility from years gone by had been lost to his aging form.
But Leon never liked to dwell on things out of his control, instead he made his way quickly inside his suite and up to the bedroom on the open plan second floor that boasted a balcony looking over the ground floor and across the room out a floor to ceiling glass pane which offered arguably an even better view of the land than the window of the presidential office.
He took a large suitcase from under the king size bed and placed it gently upon the deep navy sheets made from the finest Egyptian cotton. Walking over to the walk in wardrobe, Leon spared a brief glance at all the outfits he'd worn over the years in two lines stretching out 10 meters or so on his left and right. From the suits he usually wore these days near the entrance to his more field inspired clothes like the outfit he wore when rescuing Ashley Graham, everything was immaculately kept and hung here like one big time machine.
Even that outfit was displayed, Leon strolled to the very end where against the wall in front of him in a glass case was the signature winter uniform of the now deceased Raccoon City Police Department. He stood for a moment examining all the rips and stains that littered the clothing as it had been hung in the exact condition it was left in after that fateful day back in 1998 over two decades prior.
If the greying in his hair wasn't a reminder of how old he was getting then this certainly was, not only that but a reminder of the guilt he still carried after all this time for not being able to save anyone in that police station, not even her.
A young blonde girl crying uncontrollably near a stationary train car entered his mind, the most unwelcome memory haunted Leon on a nightly basis among many other demons from his long career fighting BOWs however this one was the worst. No matter what he did, he still couldn't get rid of the sight of two bodies in a bloody mess on the other side of the platform...
Leon shook his head and returned himself to the present day, now was not the time to get caught up in the past, however he couldn't help but feel guilty about one other thing. The very man he was now jetting off to help had been the victim of the biggest lie he'd ever told since just weeks after the Racoon City incident. Chris had come to see him in the custody of the US government with questions about his sister, he begged the blonde to tell him she was okay, that he'd seen her, alive and well.
Yes to the former, no to latter.
This was what he should have told the male Redfield, but at that point he was drained emotionally and physically from the whole ordeal and going into the circumstances around her again had been too terrible to bear for the rookie cop, so he lied and told Chris he'd never seen a Claire Redfield in his life.
Just another reason Leon felt he owed the man a great debt.
Walking back along the rows of clothes, he picked up his combat top and cargo pants from his time in Spain as it had served him very well back then. He chose the same pair of black combat boots as his go to for this mission and made sure to grab his chest and hip holster just in case. As the lights went out in the wardrobe before the doors were shut, the golden plaque engraved under the RPD uniform glinted in the fading light.
'Fight for them coward' was all it stated.
His next stop was a keypad hidden behind a hung photograph that he, Chris and Rebecca had taken before splitting after the attack on New York. The three were smiling with him taking the photo on the right, Rebecca holding a peace sign on the left and Chris in the middle with his arms around both their shoulders wearing a shit eating grin.
The photo never failed to elicit a small smirk from Leon, a reminder of friends and times that may have been dark but the light of them got him through. He took the photo from the wall and placed it gently on his bed before keying in the numbers 1-9-7-7, his birth year because Leon was a simple man and assumed nobody would be stupid enough to try and rob him.
The keypad flashed green before a large portion of the wall sunk in a few inches and then slid open to the right exposing a dark entryway. Leon clicked the light switch on the left inside on instinct having been in more times than he could count. The bright white lights flickered on illuminating a large room stocked with numerous weapons and gadgets covering each wall from floor to eight foot ceiling.
He made his way over to a modification bench in the far corner of the room where his signature pistol the silver ghost lay upon the smooth surface having been upgraded and refurbished finally just a few months ago after years of neglect following the events back in 2004. Leon picked up the pistol with a relaxed grip and felt soothed just by placing it into his hip holster ready for action.
After picking the obvious choice, it was actually a difficult decision for the agent to choose what other weapons he wanted to take with him, the size, weight, power and sheer volume of choice all delayed his thought process quite a bit. Eventually however he decided to go for firepower since he'd heard and experienced the durability of some BOWs first hand.
In the end the trusty striker shotgun from Spain and Lightning Hawk magnum from the RPD found their way into his suitcase along with spare clothes, frag and flash grenades as well as other various survival equipment. Leon sheathed his combat knife, a gift from his former commander turned enemy, into the housing on his shoulder holster. One glance in the mirror took him way back to running from Ganados, the only sign time had passed was the greying at his temples.
'Feels like a lifetime ago now' he thought before turning back to the suitcase and locking it shut. He made sure to make one last stop at a coat rack on the way out to put on the finishing touch, the very same wool interior, brown jacket he'd lost in that village all those years ago. The item in question had been sent to his suite only a few months ago and he would be lying if it hadn't made his whole day, after all that jacket was by far his favorite.
Now suited and booted to his liking with a suitcase of pain for his enemies in hand, Leon took one last look around the place he'd called home for the past 8 years after his relocation following the Tall Oaks incident. He always did this just in case he either moved again at short notice or never came back, a thought he did not relish but one he accepted only became more likely as the years went by.
The lights were flicked off and the door locked before the agent made his way downstairs and into a limousine sent to transport the man to the private airfield of the president for immediate takeoff to the safehouse in rural Romania designated by Captain Redfield.
The drive and flight were uneventful besides the brunette tasked with assisting the pilot and providing refreshments for Leon trying to hit on him rather boldly. The intention was not lost on the seasoned agent who was used to his looks attracting the ladies, however he pretended not to notice in favour of catching some more sleep and avoiding an awkward encounter in the future if the gold ring on the woman's left ring finger was anything to go by.
The weather grew colder as they approached the mountainous region wherein the safehouse holding Redfield was nestled, snow fluttered past the small window next to Leon's luxury reclining seat and he could see the dark clouds merging together above their destination.
'How inviting' he thought as the pilot began to make an announcement over the intercom system.
"This is your pilot speaking, we will shortly be arriving at-" the pilot never got to finish his announcement as the aircraft was hurled off course with a deafening bang.
Leon looked out the window only to be met with the worrying sight of the engine engulfed in a red and yellow inferno surrounded by thick black smoke trailing behind. A survey of the opposite window yielded even worse news.
'I swear there's meant to be a wing there' the agent gulped as the aircraft began to realise the imbalance and threw him against the right side of the cabin.
The force of gravity pressing him down onto the wall that was no longer a wall was extreme to say the least, the distinct cracking sound he heard from beneath him where he knew a window to be located did not help to lessen his panic. Driving himself up using the seats to steady himself, Leon managed to get to his feet and began to stumble up to the cockpit. After multiple repeats from being thrown left and right in the noisy chaos, the agent finally managed to grasp onto the cockpit door and wrenched it open only to find a very confusing but also very dangerous sight.
There was nobody there...
This of course meant the aircraft was currently barreling towards the ground with no pilot to prevent it. Confusion rang loudly through Leon's brain, how the hell was it possible for two people on an in flight aircraft to straight up disappear? Deciding such thoughts would be much better addressed on the ground, the agent's mind went onto autopilot as he remembered his flight training post Racoon.
Leon set himself into the pilot's vacated seat and strapped himself in tightly. The view through the windscreen was even more terrifying that from the cabin as he saw nothing but a hailstorm of snow and lightning with fog so dense it obscured even just a few feet in front of the nose, he was essentially flying blind as he never bothered to remember what all the gauges and dials were for, something he regretted immensely right this second.
'Calm down and think Kennedy, the pilot was about to say we'd be arriving shortly before this shit happened so it's same to assume we're relatively low and close to the destination, hopefully that means we're inside the circle of mountains and I just need to put this thing down in one piece' Leon told himself, right as the rear half of the aircraft tore itself apart and plummeted into the foggy depths below.
A deadpan stare was all the agent could muster at the timing of such an event.
'Well we're still flying half a ship' he thought hoping the universe wasn't ready to jinx again so soon.
Fortunately for him, the aircraft dipped below the clouds at that moment to reveal somewhat visible landscape coated in thick layers of snow. He could just about make out a large castle in the distance, the morning sun just barely beginning to rise from behind its grandiose towers. A village seemed to occupy the space at the base of the entrance and out of courtesy, Leon yanked at the stick to hopefully avoid crashing straight into it. The movement was stiff and barely registered but it was enough to just have the battered aircraft roll to the right and crash land hard into a nearby forest.
Leon peeled his white fingers from their death grip on the steering column and let out an enormous shaky sigh of relief.
'I'm getting too old for this shit' he thought right before a loose panel above him finally dropped down onto his skull and knocked the agent out cold...
*Bursts through the wall like Jack Baker*
He returns! With another completely different story and no updates to any existing ones in the last 5 months...
Sowwy :)
I swear I didn't mean to, work got busy and I had very little time to myself to even chill let alone try and get into the writing mindset, but enough of my excuses, what matters is time has returned to me in a limited capacity and I intend to use it.
I can't promise a schedule or when and which stories will be updated, but i'll at least do my best to listen to all of you, after all who is an author without their readers?
So about this particular fic, recently I read a gorgeous story on this site called 'Blood and Winter' by a very talented author 'Eronald'. Now this story reignited my passion for the RE8 game and characters so I decided to put my favourite RE character Leon together with the characters and setting of Village to see what would happen.
The reason Leon is older here is because i'm trying to remain canonically accurate at least for the start so he's 44 at the current time. This may or may not be thrown out the window with a certain development however and if you picked up the hints you may see where I'm going or rather where I'm returning to ;)
The plan is to cover the same story beats as the game but in my own twist and with certain ones at much greater length than they were in the game, Castle Dimitrescu and its occupants were severely underused and I intend to rectify that. I do have an idea for a few ships, however those cards will be kept close to my chest until a certain event unfolds, I believe it will be easier to explain them afterwards.
Anyway thank you all so much for reading this first chapter and I hope to entertain you again soon, make sure to leave a review telling me what you think and I'll reply to as many as possible, the feedback helps motivate me so much more than you might think.
Until next time stay safe :)