Two days had gone by; I had my team on the ground in Prague comb Becca's place for bugs, shadow her to and from work, nothing. I was beginning to think it might've been a one-off deal.

Until someone blew up Becca's car.

I got the call as I was eating breakfast.

"Hello?"

Hey Mike."

"Connor? What's up, man?"

"Mike, listen, she's okay, but someone stuck a bomb on her engine... when she hit the remote starter it armed, she was busy with something, and it went off. I got her out of there, and we're on the move now; she'll be safe at the Embassy. I won't leave her side."

Anger, fear, and relief blew through me, "I didn't know Langley put you on this. You're sure she's okay?"

"I'm looking at her right now, safe and sound, brother."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Sure, hang on."

I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to bleed the nervous energy; whoever had dared, they were going to die screaming.

"Mike?"

"Jesus Becca, are you alright?"

Her voice was strong when she spoke, and I was reminded that she wasn't some shrinking violet; this girl had been right next to me in combat, "I am now, we're at the Embassy, Connor is with me, those absolutebastards, they blew up my Kia…I loved that car, Mike."

I smiled; if she could bitch about the car, then she'd be okay, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I'll buy you a new one when this is all over. Promise. Becca, I'm gonna find out who did this… and they're gonna pay."

"I know, just be careful, please. I can't lose you, Mike, not like that, okay?"

"You won't; I'm so glad you're alright; I'm sorry I can't be there."

"Becca…I…"

"Kelly! Your boy just pulled up." Andy called out.

"Shit, Bec's, I've gotta go; I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay, Mike, please be safe."

"I will, bye, baby."

I was so distracted by Chris's arrival that it just never came out.

Chris walked in, flanked by Andy's guys, "Hey, Mike."

The anger almost overtook me, and when I spoke, my voice surprised me; it carried a low, deadly note that only hinted at the anger I was feeling.

"Redfield… I just got off the phone with Rebecca, someone blew up her car, and if she hadn't been caught up in some work, she'd be dead right now. So, here's the fucking deal, you tell me exactly what we're in the middle of, what you brought into my house, and you do it, right now."

He ran a hand through his hair, "Mike, you have every right to be pissed, I lied to you, and when I didn't lie, I misdirected." He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to my table, sliding down and heaving a sigh; he looked exhausted like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"I couldn't be honest, couldn't tell you why I involved you, not until now. I wasn't sure, and I couldn't just…Fuck, Mike."

"I'm hearing a lot of bullshit Chris, this isn't like you, and I'm beginning to wonder about just how much I can trust you."

He nodded, burying his face in his hands for a second before looking up at me with haunted eyes, "I get that, fuck…here goes nothing… I was running an op in Niger, on the border with Burkina Faso. We'd swept the village, cleared out the BOW's, stuff we'd never seen before, and some things we had; you read the Kennedy report, right? The Plagas? All there.

I nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Medical staff treating the civvies, and I'm just so fucking tired after the hump in and the fight. So one of the civvies offers me a room to catch some shut-eye. We stayed in that village for three days, and I started to hear things from the villagers, about the white guy they'd seen, how he'd set the virus loose on them, and brought all these new horrors with him….The more I asked, the clearer the picture got. Mike…Wesker is alive, and he's set up shop in Kijuju, working on some new project."

Murder flooded my veins; there were no words for the hatred that welled up from the depth of my soul; my vision started to tinge a little red at the edges. The monster that killed my friends and took Jill from me was still alive?

I felt the virus coursing through my veins with every beat of my pounding heart. Before I could stop myself, I flipped the table into the wall; everyone in the house went quiet, watching the display cautiously.

"Chris,' I almost growled, "don't, don't you fucking tell me that."

He didn't blink; he knew none of it was aimed his way, "It's gonna be a joint op to nab Irving, Us, and the West African Branch. I know you've got the gig here, but I had to tell you. I'm going to kill him, Mike, once and for all that motherfucker is going down."

"I'm going with you, non-negotiable, he killed Jill and fucking got away with it. I'm not sitting on the sidelines."

"It's a BSAA operation, Mike."

"Alpha till the end, right? I don't care about the acronyms; this is happening."

"Till the end," he finished, smiling, "Alright then, I had to at least try and put up a fight; as of right now, you're my consultant. I'm going in tonight; get your shit sorted and meet me as soon as you can. Let's kill this fuck."

He stuck out his hand, waiting. I grabbed it and pulled him into a hug.

"For Jill."

"For Jill," he echoed, "And everyone else."

"Amen, brother, stay safe; I'll see you soon."

Chris borrowed a rig and roared off to meet his new partner, some hotshot chick from the West African branch of the BSAA. I waited until day broke and rolled back to the Embassy, daring someone to take a shot at me the whole way there. I walked right past the working Case Officers, "Hey Holloway? My office, fifteen minutes."

"Sure thing Mike."

I pushed the door open, reaching for the phone, "This is Oxide, calling for Sparrow."

"Standby….Line secure."

"Frank?"

"Mike, how are you?"

"Not good man, listen, Albert Wesker is back in play; he's releasing virus after virus in a place called Kijuju. Redfield just landed and is planning an incursion with BSAA. I'd like to be given leave to assist."

"Jesus Christ, kid, the fucking guy is alive?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, fighting back a rush of emotions, "Yeah, Frank, I'm only asking permission, so I don't have to worry about forgiveness; he killed…" I cleared my throat my, voice thickening with emotion, "He killed Jill; I'm going, one way or another."

"You're damn right, you are. What do you need from me?"

"I need gear and a way to Burkina Faso in a hurry; I'm tapping Jake Holloway to take the reins while I'm gone. He's got the chops."

"I'll handle the arrangements and call you back on your cell; Holloway is a good choice; he'll do fine. You go finish this. I'll cover with Langley."

"Thank you, Frank."

"Hey, those are the fucking rules; expect a call from me in an hour. Be safe."

"Will do, man."

Jake knocked as I hung up, "C'mon in Holloway."

"What do you need boss?"

"Jake, you're senior Case Officer, four tours under your belt, which is why I asked you in here. You're a hell of an Officer on his way to a great career."

"I suppose you're right." He looked nervous at the praise.

"No time for self-deception kid, I need to take a few days off, got a personal errand that requires my presence. I need someone to fill in for me until I get back, someone who knows the game. Are you up for it?"

He looked shocked, I was breaking some rules here, but Jake was a solid kid with the experience I needed.

"I...Jesus Mike, that's a lot to take in."

I nodded, "It is, but I trust you with it. Think of it as a preview of coming attractions, for when you're running your own Station one day."

He was trying not to smile, but I knew he wanted it; I could see it in his eyes.

"Making me sweat, Holloway."

"I'll do it."

I blew out a sigh, "Thanks, Jake, it's a favor I can't repay; let's just say I'll owe you one. I've gotta motor, delegate your sources to another Officer, someone who can get in without too much fuss. I'll see you in a few days."

"I've got it handled Kelly, be safe out there."

I looked back as I walked to the door, "Not likely. Later, kid."

My ride back to the house was short, but I ran some fast dry-cleaning to make sure I hadn't picked up a tail; fifteen minutes turned into forty-five; I was walking through the door when Frank called.

"Talk to me."

"I've got an old contact on board; he's gonna fly you out from a small private strip outside of Nairobi; he can get you fifty miles from Kijuju, from there, you'll have to get there on your own; the place is getting kinda hot."

"What about a team?"

"I can't pull any Direct Action guys from the region; they're all tied up."

I chuckled mirthlessly, "Well, I've been on my own before, no great loss there. Any word on gear?"

"Kent is going to drop a few things off; they'll be waiting on the plane."

"When do I leave?"

"I've got him on standby; just ask for Jacob. I'm emailing you the directions. He's ready to go when you are."

"Got it, thanks Frank, for everything. This job, helping me when I was on my way out, all of it. I need another favor; I need guys on my parents' house; if this fucker is sending people after us, it makes sense.

"Done, and you can thank me by killing that smug little fuck and coming back alive, kid. But you're welcome; it was my pleasure, all of it."

My phone lit up, a new email came through with all the directions to the airfield, "I just got your email. Gonna make some calls and get on the road."

"Make him pay Mike, watch your ass, and come back safe."

"I will, old man, count on it. Catch you on the other side."

I killed the call, looking around my house; the place embodied the pain I'd buried, the two years I'd spent running from Jill's memory. Now I was going to make it right. Wesker was a fucking dead man.

I dialed Becca, needing to hear her voice.

"Hey Mike, is everything okay?"

I smiled, feeling a little warmth at her concern, "Becca…Wesker is alive."

She gasped, going silent for a few moments, "…How?"

"I don't know…But I know he won't be for long. Chris has an operation going; I'm leaving tonight."

"I should be there."

"Honey, you left the field for a reason, not to mention that I'm not gonna be able to rest knowing you're in danger. You can take care of yourself better than anyone I know; you proved that time and time again, Chris and I will handle this."

She sighed, "I hate the thought of you going, I wish…I guess wishing is wrong; we have to play the hand we're dealt. I'll stay here and stay safe. But you have to come back, okay? Come back to me, Mike."

"I will honey, nothing is going to keep me from you, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

I checked the time, "Gotta go, sweetheart. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay, baby…Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up and ran around the apartment, grabbing my go-bag and adding some essentials; I was about to walk out the I spied a necklace sitting on my dresser; the small silver bar and chain was simple, something you'd find at a flea market for ten bucks.

But it was so much more than that.

I bought it for Jill after we'd graduated from the Academy, on one of our first trips downtown after we got back. She treasured it, wore it all the way through the Mansion, right up until the night she'd died; Chris had found it in her locker, exactly where she'd left it.

I looped it over my head, feeling it settle inside my shirt, taking a little comfort in having her close.

It was time to make it count.

I took one last look at the house, flicking the lights off and walking to my car, dialing Mom's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Ma, listen, I've gotta talk quick."

"What's the matter?"

"Wesker is alive."

"Oh my God, how?"

I threw my bag in the back and hooked the phone to the Bluetooth so I could talk and ride.

"I don't know, but we're going after him."

I pulled onto Limuru, taking the road East out of the city.

"Jesus, be careful, Mikey…And make sure he's fucking dead."

"You know it, Mama, I just wanted to call and tell you I love you before…well, before."

I could hear the worry in her voice, "I love you more, kiddo, and I'm proud of you, so proud, I know you'll get him."

I banked a right, flooring the accelerator; thank God for diplomatic plates.

"You're not wrong; he's dead already, just doesn't fucking know it yet. How's Dad?"

"He's alright, out in the field right now. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No, just tell him that I love him."

"I will kiddo, you gotta go?"

I pulled off the highway, onto the rough dirt road that would lead me to the airstrip, "Yeah, getting close to where I've gotta be."

"Well, just…" She sniffled, and I could tell she was trying to hold back tears, "Come back safe, okay, honey? I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mama, I will don't worry."

"Fuck, yeah, right man."

I chuckled, "Had to say it. I love you, man, talk to you soon.

"Love you more, bye, kiddo."

"Bye Ma."

I pulled through the gate, a wiry African dude waving me forward. I parked and hopped out, "You, Jacob?"

"Oui monsieur."

I switched to French, "Call me, Jason, are we ready to roll?"

"Yes, all my pre-flights are finished, and your friend left the equipment; it's all stowed."

I looked around at the darkened strip, no time like the present. I walked over to the twin-engine prop job, the paint was peeling in spots, but she looked good for an old girl. I sighed as I ran my hand over the fuselage.

Once more unto the breach.

"Alright, Jacob, let's go."

I climbed aboard, settling into the rough seats, stretching out; it was about six hours to the border, I had time to rest.

But sleep never came.

I dragged the gear bags out after staring at the ceiling for hours; Jacob had let me know we'd crossed into Niger, now was as good a time as any.

I unzipped the first duffel, pulling out a slick plate carrier; I recognized the Crye JPC 2.0, an old standby, there were better carriers on the market, but I'd worn one since the Mansion, I was glad to see that Andy had similar tastes. I slipped it over my head, adjusting the straps until it fit right, covering what I needed it to cover. The rest of the gear was bog-standard, a chest rig loaded with odds and ends, a med bag, and an Ops-core Maritime helmet, Peltor Comtac headset already affixed; I slid everything on and checked the straps, all good.

The next bag had my weapons, a brand new KAC SR-16, the rifle was sweet, a Vortex 1-8 power scope mounted, and no doubt zeroed. Twelve racked regular magazines and two Magpul sixty-round drums for a little added firepower. My sidearm was a custom 1911, with Andy being Ex-Delta that came as no surprise, seven ten-round magazines loaded and ready to go. I spread the mags out in the plate carrier and function tested the guns; everything seemed to be in order.

I geared down and lit a smoke; now, all I had to do was wait.

"Jason? We are approaching the airstrip." Jacob called out from the cockpit.

I reached up and tapped on the wall, letting him know I heard him. I repacked the bags as the plane slowly started to descend. I looked out the window; the airfield was more of a dirt field. But I'd landed in sketchier spots.

We eventually touched down after circling for a bit; Jacob was waiting for the winds to die a bit. We taxied over to a hangar, and I shouldered the bags, feeling the brakes a moment later. Jacob walked back and opened the door with a smile on his face.

" A safe landing is always a good one."

I chuckled, "Amen, I take it our friend took care of payment?"

"He did; it has been a pleasure, Jason. I pray that you will be safe on your journey," He stuck out his hand.

I shook it, adding a smile of my own, "I'll do my best, take care, my friend."

He nodded with another smile walking down the steps. I followed closely and took stock of my situation; fifty miles and change from Kijuju, I needed a vehicle. A quick look around, and I spied an old Land Rover parked behind the hangar.

"Jacob!" I called out.

He turned, "Yes?"

"How much for the truck?"

His smile only got wider, and Uncle Sam felt a sting in his wallet.

Fifteen minutes and a little haggling later, I was bouncing down the road to Kijuju in my brand new (ish) vehicle, jamming to some local beats on pirate radio. My sat phone started ringing after about twenty miles.

"Go for Oxide."

"Oxide, this is Sparrow, status?"

"Oxide is all green, about thirty miles from the target area, no issues."

"Glad to hear it, Oxide. Be advised, BSAA has started their operation; Team Leader advises you rally at the following coordinates."

I listened, writing as I drove. Repeating the grid.

"Sparrow confirms the grid is accurate. ISR is on station, but we have no real presence inside the target country; in an emergency, we can push air to you, but higher would rather avoid an incident. Advise you rely on BSAA assets until the completion of the op."

"I understand, Sparrow. Appreciate the assist all the same."

"Always, Oxide, Godspeed."

"Copy, out."

I turned the radio back up, letting my mind wander as the red dirt of the plains rolled by. I always said that if I ever left Wyoming, I'd settle in Africa; this country was so beautiful it almost defied description. Even more beautiful was the fact that in a few hours, I'd finally put enough bullets in Albert Wesker to make sure he paid for every life he'd taken.

I reached up and rubbed the necklace… She'd be able to rest soon.

The outskirts of Kijuju finally came into view; the sprawling riverside city was still rebuilding after the recent clashes between the Government and Jihadist forces. Plumes of smoke marked the skyline; if I hadn't known any better, I'd say the place was an active war zone.

I thundered up the road, keeping my eyes on the rooftops, spinning the dial on my radio, looking for the BSAA frequency that Chris had given me.

135.67…No dice

135.68….Crickets.

I hope he gave me the righ-

"This is Dechant! Alpha Team is combat-ineffective! I have multiple casualties; we need evac now!"

"Hawkeye copies, proceed to rally point Echo."

"Alpha cannot move; we are under attack by an unknown BOW! OH FUC-"

The transmission died, died…no static, just empty radio.

And then someone started screaming.

I floored the accelerator, flying past some huts, tunnel vision took over, and all I could think about was rallying with Chris…If he was even still breathing.

I was so focused that I never noticed the prick with the RPG; one moment, I was trucking; the next moment, the back half of the Rover exploded in a flash of light and the sound of ripping metal. The world tilted sideways as the truck rolled; I caught snatches of sky and ground over and over until my head slammed off the door, and everything went black.

Ow…Fuck….

I woke up hanging upside down, swaying gently as some blood dripped down my face to pool on the roof of my overturned rig.

Land Rover can make some fucking seatbelts, boy howdy.

I'd been out for a bit; rays from the midday sun cascaded over the interior. As beautiful as it was…places to go and people to see. I slowly edged my hand toward my pocket; the Gerber knife I carried for emergencies should have been clipped there.

Except it wasn't.

Motherfucker…

I scanned the interior, my vision slowly getting clearer; I didn't want to think of all the work the virus had to do after that explosion; I spied the offending piece of kit resting on the sunroof, just out of reach. I reached out, the belt digging into me painfully; oh well, I had all day to make this work.

Something growled off to my left, outside the very open window. I looked over slowly, not really wanting to see whatever was there.

Oh, just a painted dog, no big de-

The fucking thing split in half vertically, from the tip of its nose to midway through its body, tentacles, and massive teeth populated each bisected half.

"Are you five-finger fucking me right now?!"

I started swinging, trying to free more and more of myself, reaching for the knife.

The dog/Thing hybrid stalked closer, slowly. John Carpenter would be proud.

"Of course, it's not just a dog; why would it just be a fucking dog!"

My pinkie brushed the blade, and the not-a-dog made a noise that was gonna haunt my goddamn nightmares.

"C'mon fucker!"

My seatbelt was starting to draw blood; the "Dog" crept closer; in a few more feet, it'd be on me.

Swinging one more time, my hand closing on the handle, I flicked the blade open, slicing through the belt in one smooth motion. My short fall to the roof was a painful one, and my new buddy picked that moment to lunge. I rolled and kicked the mutt right in one half of its face, something broke under my boot, and it yelped, dancing out of my reach.

I groped behind me, mercifully, my hand closed over a loop of canvas and jerked the duffel bag into the front seat, ripping the zippers open, my 1911 spilled out and slid across the roof to the far door.

Oh, C'mon!

I threw myself after it, hearing the slavering growls of the neighborhood pet right behind me. I grabbed the handgun, snapping the safety off and rolling, bringing my boot up just in time to catch the thing in the chest; I powered my leg forward, pinning it to the door where it wriggled and barked, trying to get at me with any part that would reach. I tracked the glowing night-sights onto it and fired, the overpressure making my ears pop and ring, but I shot it until it quit moving.

I relaxed and let the latest phobia slide onto the roof, blood leaking out of the massive holes made by the .45 rounds. I shook off the muzzle blast and reached back, popping the passenger door and rolling into the African dirt.

I stared at the sky for a second, wondering if I should've gone into accounting when a burst of gunfire brought me out of it. The duffel bags had melted a little, but most of my gear was intact, with the notable exception of my NOD's; a piece of shrapnel had smashed one of the tubes. I slid my plate carrier, helmet, and holster on, keeping an eye out for any more dogs. A quick check to make sure everything was loaded and where it should be, and I was good, plugging the Peltors into my radio and keying up.

"BSAA Bravo team, this is Oxide come in."

Nothing.

"Bravo, this is Oxide, come back, over."

A voice I didn't recognize answered, a woman's voice with a smooth African accent, Senegalese maybe?

"Oxide, this is Bravo Two, we read you."

"Copy Two, status?"

"Green and moving to Alpha's last known location coordinates to follow."

I copied the grid into my thankfully intact Garmin; I was about two miles away, through a city populated with God only knew what.

"Oxide has the grid, transport is down hard, moving on foot to RV. How copy?"

"Bravo copies all, see you soon Oxide, out."

I looked at the ruined city, fires, and smoke, sporadic gunfire in the distance, and the not-so distance, the heat from the sun, and the smell of blood washed over me.

Some part of me, a larger part than I'd ever admit… was home.

I took a deep breath and started to jog, a smile slowly spreading across my face.

My team was waiting.