Story: Quicken, Question, Quantify

Chapter Two: Counterpoint - Limbo

"La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas." (Translated: "The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist.")

-Charles Baudelaire (1844-1866)

July 12th, 1998 – Racoon City Station:

The buzz of activity in the busy offices of the cities police station were drown out to a hum in the reinforced office where Wesker worked on the endless piles of paperwork that came in as a result of any encounters in the city. There was always more to write up and turn in, red tape was its own endless hell for most of the workers in the station, S.T.A.R.S. member or otherwise. He didn't care for it, but he didn't have the extreme contempt of many of his underlings. He let out a sigh when the phone rang, his hostility reserved for interruptions to when he took the time to do the tedious work. He lifted the receiver.

"Captain Wesker." He remarked dispassionately, knowing something would interrupt his work if they were calling at hours that were supposed to be reserved for emergencies.

"We have an issue." The voice furthered his aversion to the call. No one was supposed to contact him on this line from Umbrella.

"You better have a good reason for this." The threat was there, he couldn't add a name as much as he would have liked to. Birkin really was losing his touch if he had forgotten Wesker's position here was under cover.

"The breech, some of the infected we were monitoring at that cabin attacked a girl. We have a witness running through the woods and our guards here are already hard pressed to keep people under control. The data though…" Birkin wasn't even trying to keep some sort of code, and he was cutting in and out at this point. Idiot. "…find the girl, don't kill her yet. You should…"

"Hello?" Wesker pursed his lips just slightly at the slight static and then dead quiet. Phone calls were supposed to be non-existent from the NEST now. How Birkin had managed to contact him at all was a mystery for later. A cabin? They were watching two, but one only possessed a single infected subject and Birkin had said multiple. He closed the files he was working on, picking them up to take them with him into the office outside. Vickers and Valentine had been laughing about something, but that cut short when he approached the desk.

"Vickers, Valentine. I got a call I need to take. Finish this." He set the paperwork on the desk, ignoring the protest complaints that followed his sudden order. They would do it, Valentine wanted to do well given her recent behavior and Vickers was too much of a coward to refuse. He didn't want to have anyone along, so he didn't linger to have one of them try and get out of working by going with him. He headed straight for the exit and his car. This was going to be a pain; he didn't even know what Birkin wanted with a witness. Assuming she was even still alive by the time he arrived; he was more likely to be cleaning her up than keeping her for the doctor.

The roads were dark, the moon was only a sliver and there was a bit of starlight but if it wasn't for the streetlamps along the highway the outside of the city would make it difficult for most people to see. Wesker didn't know exactly where the cabin was, but he had a good idea of the general area and expected he could seek it from there. Though, as he got closer, there were sparks of light in the distance. Gunshots? There hadn't been an audible discharge from a firearm. Then, there could have been a silencer. He was a bit surprised at the young woman waving her arms at the car and limping closer to the road from the forests nearby. She had a bow in one hand. Had she been bitten then?

He pulled the car over, killing the ignition and slipping the key into a pocket. Getting out of the car and putting on the police persona recent years required. "Hello. You all right, miss?"

Her face wrinkled together, as if she were confused. She was gauging him, looking over his uniform, eyes landing on his shoulder; the emblem for the unit he commanded.

"My ankle…I think I sprained it." She sounded foreign, struggling with the words a moment.

"You out here alone?" He asked, glancing toward the woods behind her. No subjects were limping this way, but they could still be back at the cabin. "Miss…?"

"Higurashi, I'm Kagome Higurashi. I'm lucky you are here. I got lost. I'm not from here." Yeah, the name and accent gave that way. Her English was good though, enough to communicate clearly.

"You don't sound it. Come on, let's get you sitting down, and we'll look at that leg." He offered an arm, needing to relocate her to see if it was a bite or if she'd just twisted it. She hadn't started ranting about zombies or the undead. If she'd been attacked by them, she was keeping a level head for a girl her age.

"Definitely swollen." He remarked looking at the larger than normal lower leg. "Can you take your shoe off or would you like me to cut the laces?"

She reached to do it herself, though it was clearly painful. He didn't interject. "Why were you walking out here? The trails have been closed off."

"I don't read English that well." She stated, hesitant enough that he wasn't sure if it was a lie. He twisted her ankle a little to test motion and she hissed in displeasure. "Ow."

"You look like you were running through the woods, your hair and clothes are quite disheveled." He observed, plucking a piece of a branch from her dark strands. "Did something scare you?"

"A little. I thought I heard an animal, then saw something move so I ran…that's when I caught my ankle." She still didn't seem to be telling the complete truth. Was she some sort of spy then? Looking into Umbrella tech? She was quite young for that, but he'd completed several degrees when he was younger than she was now. He wasn't keen on being ageist. Then, she could have not been that involved, he didn't have much to go on with Birkin's broken up phone call.

"I see." Was all he offered. "You know, we're pretty far out from the city, if you started there it had to have been a long time you've been outside. How long have you been lost?"

"Feels like forever." She stated, ready to cry at the remark. The shock could be starting to wear off now. She was genuine in her fright. Though that would be the case spy or otherwise, even the most well-trained staff didn't react well to their first exposure to t-virus victims. Of course, it could be an injury being out alone and lost in the woods too.

"Can you move your toes?" I continued to do expected care. Nodding in approval when she wiggled them for me. "Yeah, probably sprained. It doesn't look dislocated, so I'll put on a temporary splint and take you to the hospital. You'll probably still want an x-ray in case there is a minor fracture. Give me a moment to radio this in."

She nodded back and I headed toward the trunk, pressing the button for my headset. "Downtown, there's an injured woman out here I came across. I'll be taking her to the local hospital for care." Birkin could listen in on Wesker's official communication so hopefully he'd hear that and let him know what the hell he was supposed to do with her. He finished a few more remarks, asking the receptionist to remind the STARS officers that they should be doing paperwork before returning to the girl. She shirked back a little when he bent down near the vehicle to put down the first aid box and adjust the split to her size. She was nervous, anxious in a way he wasn't accustomed to when it came to people reacting to police. Was that cultural or was she up to something? He couldn't tell yet.

"You are lucky." He reminded her instead, needing to keep his own cover intact in case she was here to investigate Umbrella assets. "We've had reports of some sort of cult in this area kidnapping hikers. It's why the trails are shut down."

"Cult?" She echoed.

"They haven't been caught, but people keep disappearing. It's why we're patrolling this area. You think what you saw could have been people? That would narrow down where we need to search." He was curious if he could catch her in a direct lie. She shook her head negatively but seemed sad. Not the face of someone who'd just been terrified by bio generated monsters.

"No, I am pretty sure it was an animal." She was lying.

"I see." He tightened the brace a bit harsher than needed. He wasn't a fan of being lied to, even if he often lied himself. He moved to the first aid kit now that the splint was in place. Preparing a rag to clean her wounds and then having to hold her in place when she tried to pull away after he set it on the first wound. Again, not the sort of extreme reaction he'd expect from a spy, that likely would be trained to tolerate pain well. "Your wounds should be cleaned."

"Yeah, but you should warn someone first." She snapped, annoyed at my help. "I can't see really well out here."

"Apologies." He murmured, entertained at her bout of frustration. She wasn't as meek as she first appeared. "You have a few more scrapes I can see. If you don't mind me tending those, I'll take you to the hospital after."

She relented and then got quiet for a while as he continued to clean her wounds. Eventually asking for a name, so he offered it before finishing up and preparing the car to leave. She was jumpy and distracted. Quiet until he spoke again.

"May I ask why you have a bow?"

"I thought I might hunt something while I was out." Another lie, that was a very bad one.

"Not a lot of bow hunters at your age, where are your arrows?" He wanted to catch her in a fallacy or two before challenging her on anything.

"I must have dropped my quiver running away." She said, which regrettably worked with her previous lie.

"We'll canvas the area tomorrow once it's light. If it's found, I'll let you know." He remarked. Keeping this as 'to the book' as possible because he wanted no suspicion thrown on himself. "I'll need to get your contact information once you're settled at the hospital."

"I'm not that worried about it." She shrugged at the idea of getting her weapon back. "I'm just glad someone was out there and found me. I doubt I could have walked back all this way. Thank you, again."

He shrugged. Both entertained and irked that he couldn't yet pin her down in any of the dishonesty he'd sensed. He liked these sorts of games, but he liked them more when he knew both parties were playing. Otherwise he was just making something from nothing, and he wasn't in the habit of playing alone. She'd gotten quiet again, distant. That still didn't mean she was a spy, her story about wandering in the woods added up if she'd been frustrated over something unrelated to the assets. She remained lost in thought until we got back and was still staring into space when he opened her door near the E.R. He'd already gotten a wheelchair as well.

"Miss Higurashi." She looked up only at her name. This could still be shock or dehydration, some underlying medical issue. "Are you sure your ankle is all you injured? Did you fall when you were in the woods?"

Into the mouth or onto the claws of a t-virus asset perhaps? He hadn't personally seen such wounds, but she could have covered them with her clothes. She hesitated, as if thinking about it more.

"Maybe." She stated, as if not sure. "I was rushing, I didn't think so, but I could have."

He offered his arm to help her into the wheelchair, the sooner they were in and out of here the better. He wanted as little of a paperwork trail as possible if she was working for a corporate enemy. He paused near the front, offering a vague smile to the receptionist. She was always chatting with him when he accompanied anyone into the hospital, and he didn't mind that she was attracted, it made it easier to get things done. "Miss Smith, would you be kind enough to push this young lady again. I found her along the highway and I'm not sure if she's suffering from dehydration."

"Captain Wesker," She fixed her hair a little, color coming into her cheeks. "You should have called ahead. What's your name?"

She'd been speaking to the girl but Wesker answered. "Kagome Higurashi."

He'd studied some Japanese, he understood the pronunciation patterns.

"Any prior medical history?" The nurse continued to look at the girl and he let her take over answering. At some point he needed to talk to Birkin, the worthless doctor still hadn't sent any other communication. It was a marvel that they'd been comrades in the lab at one point. The nurse waved him back, so he took her and started preparing fluids. The more he played the role of good Samaritan, the more likely it was she'd let her guard down.

"You're trained in this too?" She asked, watching him move from place to place.

He explained that he had lots of training for basic medical needs and got her IV set up. He had her fill out papers. She explained she was homeless, which was suspicious as hell, but he only mentioned he'd try to find her a place in the women's shelter here. Glad when they took her to get x-rays since he was able to walk outside and try for Birkin.

"Great, finally." Birkin sighed as soon as he answered. At least they were on his cell specifically for this purpose this time. "Is the girl alive?"

"Of course, what is the verdict?" He asked.

"Keep her, we need her." Birkin was very excited; it was clear in his tone. "She'll be amazing. I can't stay on the phone, but I'm forwarding you the video now. Don't let her out of your sight."

"Bir…" Nope, he'd already hung up. Worthless. A moment later his phone buzzed, a blurry video loading onto the screen after a while. It was difficult to make out but the girl inside was running near the highway where he'd just picked her up. She paused to lean on a tree and there were infected assets after her. With her leg injured she shouldn't have stood a chance. His eyes widened slightly when she pulled up her bow and without any arrows somehow shot arrows made of energy at the creatures. One per creature and they fell to the ground. Then he arrived shortly thereafter, he knew the story from there. He frowned. The assets were still there, Birkin wouldn't have thought to clean it up. He sent a text from his Umbrella work phone to Sergei, that's what the Russian was paid for. What had she done exactly?

The video hadn't shown the creatures get up again, had she somehow returned them to corpses? As if the virus had never infected them at all? How? Was she a spy then? She was quite good if so…he needed more information to make that judgment. However, he had to admit Birkin was right. They needed this girl. She could have blood that could jump the various research projects in Umbrella by ages. He had to be careful though, if she was a spy and he let it on he knew she might turn that strange power on him. This might be a bit of fun after all.

He shut the flip phone and slipped back inside and to her area in triage. "Miss Higurashi, the women's shelter is full, though I feel a bit responsible. The next few days are supposed to be record breaking when it comes to heat. Would you like to recover in my home?"

"I don't want to impose." She stated, but it was clear she was torn. At the very least, some part of her wanted to come.

"Just until you are back on your feet?" He suggested, he could work from there. "If it's a sprain it would only be a few days."

"Okay, just until I get back on my feet." She agreed. I smirked a bit, that was all I needed for now. A few days and I'd get to know her enough to tell if she was working for someone else. "Thank you, again. Seems I owe you."

"I'm sure I'll think of something you can do to make it up to me." He realized as he said it, how threatening it sounded and added innocuously. "There's a lot to be done about the house."

She nodded again and the doctor returned. She did have a sprain and she needed to stay off her foot several days. Just as well since he wanted to know where she was. He'd made certain the doctor gave her something that would sedate her well for the pain and then they stopped to get it on the way to his house. He explained the way the living situation would work as he lacked bedrooms on the bottom floor and that he had a dog, clearing that she wasn't allergic. It wouldn't do to go to all this trouble and have her die from anaphylactic shock in his living room.

Once the arrived and he'd handed her the crutches she stared at them as if her arms had transformed into sticks. He smirked again at the concept. "You've never used crutches before I take it. They can be tricky to get used to. Here."

He knew members of the fairer sex found him attractive, he'd used it to his advantage even tonight. He wanted to push her, see if she'd break this innocent character, she'd built up somehow. The opposite proved true, she dropped the crutches, then jumped and gripped my shirt squeaking like a frightened kitten. If he hadn't seen the video from Birkin himself, he wouldn't have believed it possible this timid creature had taken down several t-virus victims without a problem. She'd done more damage to herself running from them than they had done to her when they'd finally caught up.

He carried her inside, assuring her he'd get her some bedding after leaving her on the couch. He left his dog, who was well trained and would keep an eye on her. He didn't expect her to already be unconscious when he returned. He knew he'd arranged a narcotic that would cause drowsiness, but if she considered him a threat, he doubted she would have passed out so readily. Despite his own suspicions she wasn't suspicious of him. He layed her down carefully, not wanting to wake her, raising her foot onto some pillows before retrieving an ice pack. There. That seemed as if he was looking to make sure she'd recover quickly. If for some reason he needed an excuse to keep her, he could always arrange an accident to make her injury worse. At least enough that he could worm his way into her life first.

Her unconsciousness gave him the ability to go through the things she'd left in his car. The bow was first since it wasn't in the backpack still in the floor. She'd held it the whole drive. It didn't seem special in any way; it was a bit old. The string was starting to fray. There weren't parts that could have caused the illumination he'd seen in the video. He brought it with him inside, walking to the kitchen since he could still see her through a small window over the sink between rooms. There was still enough of a wall that she wouldn't see him digging through her things.

The bag had a few notebooks, all of it written in Japanese. He could make out parts of it, but they all seemed to be general notes for classes. Math was the best clue. He set it down and moved to prepare and turn on the coffee pot, it was going to be a late night. He'd need to take pictures of every page to send to the office. He set that aside for now, returning to the bag's other items. There was a first aid kit, though unlike his it had a few more expensive items, surprising for a civilian. There were also a few herbs inside that could be used for healing purposes. There was a change of clothes, some sort of school uniform. There were several packets or cups of noodles; those justified the idea of a homeless person since they would be cheap sustenance. How did a girl from Japan end up homeless in Racoon City at the age of nineteen? No, something here didn't add up.

He took off his sunglasses to set them aside, pouring himself a cup of coffee as he rubbed his face. This was all confusing information. A small gathering of toiletries in a plastic bag that could be zipped up, very travel friendly. A wallet was the next item he found, opening it hoping for better pieces than the ones he had so far. There was a student ID, still in Japanese. A credit card from a bank he didn't recognize, a bit shocking if she had no home. There were a few bills and change in yen. There weren't even American dollars. There was a picture of her at a younger age with a smaller boy, a woman that was likely her mother judging by characteristics, and an older gentleman. Her family then? There was nothing noted on the back. He took a picture of the picture with his phone then slipped it back into place. The only other thing in the bag was a strange series of beads in a plastic bag. Most of them were a brown color with circles, but several were white, and fang shaped. He put all the things back in the order he'd gotten them out. Except the notebook, that he began taking pictures of. He needed to make sure there was nothing more suspicious to her.

She lacked a passport. Unless it was on her person or she'd lost it, she wasn't here in the states legally. Was she working for Wong? That woman was always up to something, but I'd never seen her recruit people this young. I took a sip of the coffee; these pieces didn't fit at all. Was she an asset of Umbrella we hadn't heard about? With the breeches of the virus victims it could be someone from high headquarters was involved. That didn't seem right either. Another few pictures down. He continued to take photos as he sipped at the coffee, mind busy. Just what was going on with this girl on his couch? He glanced out and she was still unconscious, dark tresses framing her face. Her eyes peacefully closed, chest rising and lowering slowly. The narcotic would likely leave her unconscious for several hours. It would be enough to finish taking these photos and send them to Birkin.

He could just take her to the lab, but with the virus still causing issues in several levels of the facility he didn't want to bring in new assets that could be compromised. Particularly not one that could do what he'd seen. Though she could also help neutralize the issue, he wasn't as concerned about the people in the NEST. Birkin had wanted to see how the virus worked on larger groups so Wesker didn't want to interfere with that. He was involved in that plan after all, but this threw a wrench in what they were doing. A person that could possibly unmake the mutation of the t-virus that easily. He understood Birkin's excitement. He hadn't worked in a lab for many years, but he was curious as to what allowed her to do what she'd managed in the video. He finished photographing the rest of the pages with writing and put the notebook back, zipping the bag and moving her things so they were on the table next to her. Returning to the kitchen and his coffee, pulling back up the video Birkin had sent. It wasn't anything he'd seen before. He walked upstairs, taking the phone with him so he could dial Birkin again, he wanted more information.

"So, did you test the ones she put down?" He asked quietly, after getting to the balcony outside his bedroom.

"We did, so far there are no signs of the virus left. Whatever the girl did, it cleared it out completely. She basically just returned them to corpses, but I expect if she got to someone early enough in the mutation process, she could reverse it all together." Birkin was speeding through his comments, clicking away so probably also looking at results. "I don't see any other impact on the DNA, so somehow she's just removing the virus. It's insane. Can you bring her in?"

"I'm not to that step just yet." Wesker replied, amused at the quiet his refusal brought on. "We don't know who she is. If she's a spy of some kind, then we don't want to bring her straight into headquarters. She doesn't suspect I'm anything more than a local cop, so I'd rather not burn that bridge early."

"Shit…" Birkin's whispered curse was a sign he agreed with Wesker's logic. "Do you really think she could be from another company? Who?"

"Hard to say, there are a few possibilities, but I'm not going to get overexcited and bring her in. We don't know how what she does works. She could be a danger to everyone at the NEST." Wesker explained calmly, it would be easier if Birkin agreed with his approach. He wouldn't have to worry about the scientist possibly trying to go behind his back.

"What about samples? Can you get some?" Birkin was very ready to jump into this research. Was that going to push back their plans for the mansion in a couple weeks? Augment them perhaps…

"I'm not sure. I will if I can, but I'm not going to compromise my cover. Right now, she believes I'm on her side. I want it kept that way." Wesker explained. He didn't like unknowns, variables that broke otherwise solid research. "This girl handled incorrectly would be a wrench of major proportions."

"Yeah…well, you aren't wrong there. I get it. I was overexcited. Do what you can but let's not compromise our current timeline." Birkin agreed, he was clearly disappointed but that I could deal with. He understood the reasons for my caution now that he'd been forced to look at it.

"And Birkin." Wesker remarked drily. "Don't call me at work again, understood?"

"Yes, Wesker." The Captain heard the eyeroll, but the researchers voice was serious enough that he nodded to himself.

"I'll be sending you files from the notebook in the girl's backpack. It largely seems to be random school notes but get them translated ASAP. Keep this girl off the record." Wesker ordered, waiting for confirmation before giving a farewell and hanging up. He slipped the phone away and leaned on the railing overlooking a fairly nice view of the city. The city that had no idea of the festering t-virus spreading far beneath it, the fact that a possible cure was sleeping on his couch. He was annoyed Birkin had seen what she could do first. He wanted this kept as quiet as possible. He smirked slowly, the board had been switched up, but he had a pocket queen.

End Chapter

Wesker, he's so ebil. He's difficult to write for. I think next time I write a chapter for him I'll try to keep it first instead of third person because I kept accidentally switching to first then having to fix it. Hopefully there aren't parts where I missed it. Kagome has no idea what's going on quite yet, but we'll get there when we get there.

-Aura