I've got Viper—Ada—right where I want her. Or so I thought. Just when Chris and I have got her dead to rights a second player enters the field: Albert Wesker. The Director of the CIA. He's here in Insane City and he's got a gun pointed at Chris' head.

Status Report 20: Only One

The hammer of the Director's gun pulls back, resonating in the silent room. "If you'd have just kept your nose clean, I wouldn't have had to come here to deal with you personally." I hear a grunt from Chris as the business end of the firearm is pressed into the back of his head, "Drop your weapons."

I growl under my breath, anger rising inside of me, "Why are you a part of this, sir? Where's your loyalty?"

"I find it humorous you speak of loyalty when you have clearly switched sides." I can hear Wesker shift his weight, probably getting a better angle on Chris' head. "Now get off her. And drop your weapons." I know there's no bluff here. He's not going to hesitate to take out the only man who stands in his way of controlling Insane City. Slowly, I lift myself off of her and toss the semi-automatic to the side. Ada's body quickly moves out from under me.

Her voice grates against my nerves, "That's not the way to woo a woman, you know."

"Shut it," I bark and I can practically see her smile in the darkness. Turning towards the Director, I glare in his direction and hope he can feel it digging into his bones, "Why are you doing this?"

"Why indeed." Even in the dark I know he's looking at me. My entire body runs cold, a block of ice settling in my stomach. "Tell me, Nivans, do you really think this city is worth saving? If Red is spared, he continues his tyrannical rule, choking the city of its freedom yet again. If Red were to ever fall, another dictator would take his place and continue to squeeze the life from the region."

I fall silent. I know that keeping tyrants in power doesn't solve anything. In fact, it probably makes things worse. But creating a power vacuum with the complete destruction of Red's gang? I've seen these kinds of power struggles unfold and it makes more bodies than there are coffins. Both are equally bad options and ensure the eventual collapse of the region. "There is another way," I state cooly.

"Quite the optimist." The Director shifts his weight again. "You really think people can change?"

I'm not sure, really. Can people change for the better? I've seen people fall into the pits of despair, I've seen the human soul turn several shades darker. Not once in my entire life have I ever seen someone come back from the brink, pull themselves out of the darkness and back into the light. Can people really change for the better? I guess there's only one way to really find out. "If I stop believing that," my eyes travel to where Chris is no doubt kneeling. Wesker is standing behind him, his cold eyes still on me despite the black we're in. "Then I become like you."

In a quick second, the handgun I've got in my waistband is in my fingers, the trigger squeezing. The deafening explosion of a bullet is followed by a scream of pain from the Director. A direct hit, though I don't know where. It doesn't matter, though. It's enough time to get the hell out of here. I move forward, grabbing Chris wherever my hands manage to fall. He's dazed but a quick tug and some encouraging words has him on his feet and following after me. My hand slips into his and my stupid heart races a little faster—goddamn it, I shouldn't be thinking about how wonderful it feels to hold his hand at a time like this!

We're into the hallway in a blink and I can hear the staggering recovery that comes from within the room. We won't get much of a lead on him. We sure as hell can't expect to beat him down the stairs and out the front door. We'd be easy targets. We've got to stand and fight, at least until we've managed to buy enough time to get the hell out of here.

I pull Chris into a darkened room, one that we blindly searched not minutes before. Inside there are stripped beds and a desk. A bathroom is to the left of the entrance. I mentally create a picture of it in my mind before ducking down behind one of the queen sized beds. Chris is with me in an instant, his gun having been discarded when I tossed mine. Great, a handgun. Against whatever the hell Wesker brought with him and Ada's machine pistol. We're fucked—but I don't admit it. Probably don't have to.

"Chris," I whisper, "We'll only engage if it becomes necessary. We've got to get back to your turf."

I can practically see the confused look that covers his face, "My place? Piers, it's under siege. How is getting back there going to help?"

If I had the time to explain, I would, but considering the two of them will be bearing down on us soon I settle with , "it just will."

He doesn't press it, which is good because it isn't more than a few seconds later that the heavy sound of the Director's boots stomp through the hallway. Ada's behind him, her delicate heeled feet as silent as a cat 's paw. It's the Director's voice that speaks. There's a hint of pain but the man is hiding it well, "Now, now, Nivans, that's not the way to earn a promotion." More footfall. "And Christopher, bending over for him isn't going to keep him from killing you when this is over."

Mentally I scowl, annoyance flooding my system. He's taunting me, taunting us. I place a hand on Chris' shoulder when I feel him bristle beside me. To my surprise, he instantly calms down, body relaxing. I do my best to keep calm, too. Wesker's only doing it to lure us out. He's got no idea where we are and he's as blind as we are. Not at all how he likes it. At the very least, it levels the playing field. He's an expert tracker and killer, having worked his way to the top of the CIA through bloodlust and violence. To say escaping him will be difficult is underselling just how much of a pain in the ass it's going to be.

The two step into our room, the dark hiding them from view but the sound of their feet pinpointing where they are on my mental map. They move towards the beds slowly, no doubt feeling around for clues as to what this room's function is. Chris and I remain completely still, not even daring to breath. "They won't be easy to find," Ada says teasingly.

I can hear the grin in the Director's words, "That's the fun of it."

Another long moment and they're stepping out of the room, roaming slowly back into the hallway to continue their search. There's more taunting but I don't speak a word. Chris is calm beside me, too. It feels like forever before I can no longer hear the sounds of their feet against the carpeted floor. Heaving a silent sigh, I slowly work my way towards the door, handgun brandished boldly. Chris follows behind me, whispering in a tone that's barely above silence, "What now?"

I'm not entirely sure, actually. If we head towards the door we entered in, we may eventually find it but we'll also be right behind our hunters. The hall is riddled with red light as well. We go in and they're bound to see the light and follow. There's one other option but I hate it more than my first choice, "We head in the opposite direction." It's a hotel so there's bound to be multiple fire exits around here. It'll buy us more time, too. The problem is I have no idea where those stairs are or if they're even accessible. Ada may have them blocked off for protection.

Regardless, it's our best option.

Chris places a hand on my back, patting it lightly. I guess that's the 'go ahead' sign?

Slinking into the hall, I keep my ears trained. Ada and Wesker are down the hall but that doesn't mean they aren't close by. Slowly working my way down the hall, I keep my right hand hovering by the wall. My fingertips barely grace it, keeping me oriented in the blackness.

As silly as it is, I'm scared of the dark. It's disorienting and it plays tricks on you. My senses go haywire in it, too. God, I can't wait to be out of this damn place.

Chris is behind me the entire time, carefully following after. He keeps one hand on my shoulder to avoid running into me should I stop. Which I do when I feel a door frame. The door is open. Must be the room with the light, where the Director made his grand entrance. Slipping inside, I whisper, "See if you can find your gun."

Chris splits from me, the two of us searching blindly on the floor. I try to mentally recall the room's features. I didn't get to see them very well through the bright light but I remember it's no longer suited as a bedroom. My hands slide across the ground, feeling nothing but carpet fibers. Chris' whisper from across the room startles me, "Must have taken them."

"Damn it," I mutter. "Let's keep going."

Heading back to the door as carefully as possible, Chris beats me there. His hand splays across my chest as I reach him, causing me to tense for a second before I realize it's him. My own hand takes his hand in mine and gives it a small squeeze. Mentally, I want to live in that moment for a little longer. Just standing there, holding his hand, the two of us having spilled our hearts not too long before. I want to keep talking about how I feel, how he feels back, but it's not the time for it. I'll have plenty of time to talk with him later—even if it's from behind prison bars.

Moving his hand to my shoulder, we head back into the hallway, ears listening for Wesker and Ada. We're lucky Ada likes her base big. They have no way of knowing exactly where we are which gives us a slight advantage.

Feet making almost no noise, my hand is at the wall again. We find more doors, each leading to different bedrooms that had once housed families but were now nothing more than empty shells of disuse. It takes a long while before I finally locate the elevator, temptation flooding my system. But I resist. Nothing would be more suspicious. Besides, her gang is still downstairs awaiting the enemy. As soon as those doors opened, we'd be mowed down.

But emergency stairs are almost always next to the elevator. Deft hands feeling the walls, I find a cool, metal door. It's heavy as I give it a small push. "This must be it," I mumble. Chris' hand squeezes my shoulder, urging me on. Giving it a tentative push, it opens with little noise or protest. Light floods us so we move quickly into the stairwell, closing the door firmly but quietly behind us. A rush of relief floods my system as I look at Chris with a smile. He gives a smile back.

But there's no time to linger in that smile or those warm, chocolate eyes. We've got to move. Heading down the stairs, I keep my handgun trained forward, turning at each set of stairs with a sweep of my gun. Standard military procedure that will hopefully keep us from getting ambushed.

"So, what's your plan?" Chris asks.

"Head back to your place."

"And that will help because…?" He stalls his words a bit, waving his hand for me to fill him in.

"Because we need all the help we can get."

"How do you expect them to help us? Everyone is fighting off the invasion."

I stop and turn towards him, face serious. He looks confused and scared—god, he's actually scared—and he wants me to help him feel safe. For the first time in Red's life, he's actually scared about the outcome. He doesn't wear fear well, it just doesn't look good on him. I take a deep breath, letting it out in a huff, "Not everyone."

There's one person I can think of to help us get out of this mess. One person who can rally the troops, command an army. There's only one person who I can trust in this whole damned city.

Jill Valentine.

A/N: I apologize for the wait. Work has been busy and the weekends are really my only time to type. This chapter was also hard for me. I had it ready last weekend but then I re-read it and hated the direction it went. I finished up this version today and like it much better. I'm sorry it's so short, my friends! But the next chapter is where things start to get super serious and I'm pumped to be reaching these last chapters (after so fucking long). If you're wanting a guess as to how many more chapters there are, I haven't a clue. I know where the story is going but I'm not sure where the chapter breaks are going to be. For example, this one was supposed to be longer but I liked how it ended here (also, after several weeks, I figured I should get something out for you guys). So, I'm never actually sure how many more there are going to be. Just know we're getting close to the end.

Thanks to those of you who take the time to review. Your words are inspiring and encourage me to keep writing even when I get stuck.

Stay awesome,

Emil Lime