Chapter Two-Partners (Luciana's P.O.V)
The walk back to HQ was quiet. Almost too quiet for my liking making silence speak the eerie truth that things didn't seem right. I didn't say anything as I scanned my surroundings from behind my sunglasses taking note of every little detail around me. I even noticed that Chris had noticed the eerie silence but I said nothing and instead played it off nonchalant.
"May I ask what it is that you are doing," I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Chris looked down towards my direction with a smile.
"Was wondering when you were going to ask," he chuckled.
I looked up at him baffled as we continued to walk down the almost vacant alley, one of the very few that existed within the walls of Venice. I shook my head and smiled.
"Well, Mr. Redfield," I began, as a light accent began to roll off of my tongue.
"Please… Chris will do," he replied, giving me a smile.
I nodded then began again, "Well, Chris… I have made a few assumptions through my silent observation."
"Oh and what would that be," he asked, glancing at me as he quirked his eyebrow.
"You are taking notes of Venice, maybe? Mapping out the best possible escape route and given your history I can understand that," I inquired as I took a sharp right.
My sudden turn took us to a small tight fit alley way with a pole in the middle of two buildings and cobble stones beneath our feet. I stopped beneath the pole and turned around to face
Chris with his eyebrows raised.
"Am I correct," I asked, lilting my voice a little letting the Italian accent spill from my tongue.
Chris chuckled then said, "Yes, you are. I'm mainly shocked that you know of my history."
I laughed and shook my head, "Chris, do you honestly believe that you would be the only one getting their partner's file?"
"No, its just been awhile since I've been in the swing of things," Chris mumbled, giving an embarrassed shrug.
"It's no problem you know. Let me see your bag," I ordered, holding my hand out.
Chris handed over his bag without question. I bent over and moved aside a stone then dropped the bag down below me into a dark, long shaft.
"Guardate qui di seguito," I hollered.
I turned my head over to where my left ear was facing the mouth of the shaft. Chris looked at me confused and I gave him the signal of my index finger, signaling him to be quiet.
"Capito," hollered a voice.
"Have it on hold for Mr. Redfield," I hollered down, my voice reverberating off the walls of the shaft.
I heard a mumble, signaling that my order had been heard. I smiled down the shaft and placed the stone over the shaft entrance. I shook my head, my hair bobbing around my face. I looked back up to find Chris' face in total confusion.
"May I ask where that tunnel leads and what in God's name did you just say," Chris asked, his jaw slacked and eyebrows raised.
I laughed lightly, and smiling my signature crooked smile. I cocked my head at him squinting through the sun up at his tall looming figure. My eyes traveled across him for the first time since we actually met at the docks not twenty minutes ago.
Chris' dark-brown hair was slightly spiked, the rest fading out into a soft taper at the back of his neck. His broad, muscled shoulders being shown through his tight, grey cotton tee; his navy cargo pants fitting him nicely at the hips and flaring out over his boots. His skin was slightly sun kissed and his green eyes sparkling with life, leader ship. I had to admit for a guy in his thirties, Chris Redfield was fine.
My sunglasses fell from their perch from the crown of my head and onto the bridge of my nose. I pushed them up from my nose to where they were in place over my eyes.
"The tunnel leads down to Italy's headquarters. As for what I said, you will start having to practice," I sighed, stretching my arms over my head and popping my neck.
I jumped up and down a few times, stretching my arms in front of me and behind me as I did so. I twisted my ankles then rotated my neck. I ripped off my glasses and slid one of the clips on the inside of my shirt.
"What on Earth are you doing," Chris huffed, looking aggravated with my antics and riddles.
I chuckled, "Stretch and you will find out."
Chris shrugged and popped his fingers and rolled his neck, tensing and un-tensing his calf muscles. He looked at me and nodded. I smirked as I bounced up and grabbed a hold of the wooden pole twisted my body then pulled myself onto it in a crouching position. I twisted around with wisps of hair falling in front of my eyes. Chris stood there with his mouth agape in complete shock. He shook his head and quickly grabbed hold of another pole not far from mine then shimmied over to one of the buildings. I watched his shoulders flex as he pulled himself up and wiped his hands on his pants. I stood to walk a length of the pole and hopped off beside him.
"Do you see that tall building in the distance," I asked.
Chris peered to it, squinting through the sun.
"Yes, the one that looks like a church," he asked, looking down at me with excitement revving through him.
I nodded then challenged, "Want to race?"
I bit into an apple as I dried the rest of my hair out from my previous shower due to my playful game with Chris. When we had arrived at headquarters, I was caked in dust and grime. But Chris was much worse, he had fallen a couple of times into carts that carried chickens and even slipped in oil spills left from small scooters. Of course I had gotten yelled at for "breaking protocol" by simply having some fun and enjoying my new found partner.
Is it even safe to call him partner after the one he had emotional attachment to kill herself, I asked my self.
I shrugged as I walked into my living room wearing only a white tank top and with my boy short underwear. I sighed as I sat down at my desk computer and pulled up a chat room that connected all BSAA members across the country.
USERNAME: GUARDIAN82
PASSWORD: SANCHEZ, L
I pulled up my window and typed in the search bar: AFRICA101. I hit the launch button and pulled up the first profile I saw; thank God it was the right profile I was looking for, Sheva Alomar's. And she was online.
CHAT ROOM 1A:
AFRICA101: HOW WAS YOUR FIRST DAY WITH CHRIS?
GUARDINA82: IT WAS SILENT. NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING, THOUGH I DID MAKE A BREAKTHROUGH AND MADE HIM LAUGH THOUGH. WE HAD A LITTLE RACE OVER THE ROOFTOPS.
AFRICA101: WELL SOUNDS LIKE PROGRESS ANYWAY YOU NEEDED A PARTNER AND I BELIEVE CHRIS IS YOUR BEST OPTION BESIDES MYSELF. I WOULD BE THERE BUT THIS MESS IN AFRICA SEEMS ENDLESS, SORRY.
GUARDIAN82:ITS ALL RIGHT, I UNDERSTAND.
AFRICA101: GIVE HIM TIME. CHRIS WILL COME AROUND EVENTUALLY, AND YOU WILL MEET THE REAL CHRIS I HAD THE CHANCE TO MEET AFTER HELL BLEW OVER HERE. I HAVE TO GO, CONFRECNE MEETING. KEEP ME POSTED, EVEN IF ITS THROUGH MESSAGES. GOOD LUCK!
GUARDIAN82: THANKS, GOOD LUCK WITH THE MESS THERE. HOPE THINGS GET BETTER.
I logged off of the chat room and leaned back against my leather office chair taking the last bite of my apple. I jumped at the sudden sound of rapping at my door.
"Jesus," I muttered, throwing my apple core in the kitchen trash on the way.
The headquarters in Italy has small apartments branched off from it to where agents, scientists and any other important officials can live close to home. The BSAA underground headquarters were placed in almost every country each with their own underground design to fit into the earth. Many people note how similar the designs are to the Umbrella "Hives'.
I grabbed a wide scarf then draped it around my waist and tying it off in the front to where the ends hung in front of the small slit. I strode over to my door as I threw my hair up in a ponytail. I reached my door and pulled the it open to reveal a refreshed Chris Redfield standing in front of me. His back was facing me until he turned around and smiled.
"Bad time," he asked, giving me a slight smirk at my appearance.
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "Please, Mr. Redfield, I would walk around HQ like this. If you believe me modest then I'm sorry to disappoint."
Chris' face turned beat red as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. I looked down at his other hand to see a case of Coors Light in his hand. I looked up at him then quirked my eyebrow.
"Thought we could celebrate our new found partnership," he inquired.
"Do you do all of this with your partners," I teased as I stepped aside to allow him to pass.
Chris chuckled, "Actually you are the first."
He stepped past me, his arm lightly brushing mine. Tingling sensations passed between us and we glanced at each other. I shut the door and locked it; I turned around to find Chris on my sofa with a open beer in hand and TV turned on.
"You know when someone wants to get to know someone else, usually questions would break the ice," I chuckled, picking up the beer case.
As I stood hunched over, lifting up the beer case. My tank top collar dipped low showing off my cleavage as a prized trophy and my wire cross necklace dangling from its ribbon perch. I glanced up to find Chris calmly gazing at my cross and avoiding my breasts at all costs. I turned around and headed into the kitchen; I shoved the beer case into my fridge and glanced over the top of my refrigerator door to find Chris sitting at my bar.
"You know I was joking about the question thing… TV is a good icebreaker too," I laughed nervously, rubbing my forearms.
Chris smiled then said, "Well I was actually going to ask you a couple questions."
"Fire away," I said, giving him a bright smile.
I sat down beside Chris as he fidgeted with his beer bottle before taking a swig.
"What did your parents do for Umbrella," he asked, looking down over at me.
I chuckled darkly, "Always the parents."
Chris looked at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
"My parents were small scientists that helped along the T-Virus. Ones of many, they were nothing special but got paid well none the less. My parents were fresh out college, married and jobs Umbrella had opened up seemed like a dream come true. If my parents had known the monstrosities that Umbrella was going to cause or what that virus was for… they would have had nothing to do with it," I stated, grabbing a napkin from its holder.
Chris nodded as he took another swig as he looked at a painting that was over my dining table. I followed his gaze to see it was the one I had done when I was in my senior year of high school.
A woman's face with cuts and bruise, make-up running down her cheeks. Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull and her mouth opened in a silent scream; many dark figures around her, reaching for her. Small stores surrounding her with tall buildings looming in the distance against the moon lit night.
"I'm taking that symbolizes Raccoon City," Chris murmured.
I nodded then whispered, "My teacher thought it was that of pure horror. He wanted me to sign it and put it up for auction, where the art community could maybe get life breathed back into it. The next Leonardo Da Vinci he called me… just more morbid."
"It does represent horror but also that of anguish and sorrow. It's a brilliant piece," Chris murmured, giving me a smile.
"Thanks, but its only a copy since my uncle has the original one back in Los Angeles " I mumbled as I cleared my throat, "So how were you thrown into Umbrella's rein of terror?"
I folded the napkin into a paper airplane and launched it across the room, watching as it gracefully landed on top of my candle. Chris smiled at me as I beamed in achievement.
"July 1998. Monsters were being spotted up in the Arkalay Mountains on the outskirts of Raccoon City. The S.T.A.R.S Bravo team was the first to be sent in with the second wave, Alpha Team, was leaded by Albert Wesker. Bravo team was almost utterly wiped out; when the second wave hit, we realized we couldn't take what those… things were dishing out. Survivors: Rebecca Chambers, Barry Irons, Jill Valentine, Albert Wesker and myself.
"Eventually we all discovered the mansions and the secrets that it concealed below its grand façade. We also discovered that Wesker was also had a major role in all that transpired inside and outside of that mansion. What I saw that night, changed me forever; I have never been the same since. I have nightmares on occasions, and they still scare the shit out of me. Reason why I fight relentlessly is to make sure no one else has to see those horrors and to make sure my sister can live without worry or fear," Chris stated, looking at me dead in the eye.
I held his gaze, as I sifted through the emotions that swirled around in his irises: fear, guilt, hate and compassion. A deadly combination. I looked away, letting out a small sigh.
"What's your story? Why did you remain hidden from us all this time," Chris asked, as he turned his body to face me.
"A regular school day turned to disaster," I murmured as I smirked, "I was fifteen a month shy away from my sixteenth birthday. That day it seemed as if the weather knew what to brew up to make the perfect set for the horrors that would unfold later that night."
Chris nodded then scoffed, "You can say that again."
"I walked into my parents house, and everything was either broken or strewn about. As I walked further down the entrance hallway, I saw my parents dead with bite marks all over them. Flesh missing in chunks, lying in a pool of crimson silk… blood. I screamed as I stormed up the stairs and to my room. When I got there, I stripped myself of my school uniform and tugged on jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. As I whipped around to go back out, I discovered my father's nine millimeter pistol on my dresser. Whenever we had free time, my father had taught me how to use it… in case of emergencies.
"As I flew back down the stairs, I saw my mom and dad… walking, bleeding profusely; they were infected. I shot both of them in the head, without remorse and in fear of my own life. I went deeper into the city, and discovered an old bar that had a fallout tunnel that led outside the city. I traveled the whole thing till I came out on the side of a highway. From there I hitch-hiked my way to my uncle's apartment complex. From there I continued a normal life as possible," I breathed, picking at my fingernails.
"Miguel Sanchez," Chris murmured.
"Yes. His daughter Azura is eight years younger than I am… she was so excited when I started living with her. But as she got older she fully began to understand why I truly began living with her. It has been quite some time since I have seen her," I breathed, looking at a picture of all three of us at the beach.
Azura was smiling goofy as her long, light brown hair billowed around her from the sea salt breeze. A purple streak in her hair, and her hazel eyes shining with excitement. And her skin fairly tanned. Miguel smiling in between us with his arms draped around both of us. His bald head showing signs of a premature sun burn and his eyes hiding behind his glasses. With me on the other side; my hair had been much longer and I had lost some weight.
"Azura looks more like her mother than anything but that's probably because her mother was full blooded American," I murmured, more to myself then to Chris.
"Where are they both now," Chris asked, as he nursed his beer.
I sighed, "Miguel is the head of the BSAA headquarters in L.A.; Azura is with the B.S.A.A., she mainly drives with transportation vehicles but she does all the shooting, not the driving. I guess its fair to say I have a normal life and family."
"Still doesn't answer why you remained under radar," Chris pointed out.
For many reasons, I don't want you to know yet, my subconscious hissed.
I smiled then replied with my usual cover story, "Umbrella was hunting down all Umbrella employees or people connected to employees alive or dead, and killing them."
"Lovely," Chris growled, taking the last swig of his beer.
He leaned back and took the shot, making the bottle land in the center of my trash can. I smiled as I shook my head, rubbing my neck. I glanced over to find Chris staring at me in wonder.
"What," I asked, knitting my eyebrows together.
"Usually a teenager can't handle the pressure of that situation. They would crack," Chris replied.
"Sherry Berkin didn't and she was half my age. Plus she experienced more of Raccoon City's horrors than I did," I pointed out.
Chris nodded then said, "Yes but she wasn't wanted by Umbrella nor did she have to kill her own parents."
I opened my mouth but soon shut it, not sure of what to say.
"Neither did she fully understand the full extent of the situation," Chris continued.
I shook my head, "Neither did I, Chris. Whenever I joined the B.S.A.A is when I discovered the truth through old files."
"The way I look at it as well, someone else that could have been in your situation… would have been cold and hard as rock. Not warm and compassionate. They would have been so set on revenge that they don't realize that they need to live the full extent of their lives. You showed me the exact opposite I was expecting today; at the docks and during our little race earlier. You are one of a kind… unique," Chris said, grabbing my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
I stood there, lost for words. I smiled then nodded trying my best to hide my blushing face. I felt his presence leave as I heard his footsteps walk to the door; I heard a scream above me and I launched for my knife drawer. I pulled out my father's pistol and ran into my bedroom. I grabbed a pair of grey skinny jeans, tugging them on and slipping on my Chuck Taylors. As I rushed past my door, I grabbed my black emergency gym bag.
"What the-," before Chris could finish, sirens began to blare overhead.
I unzipped my bag, grabbing Chris' things and threw them at him. He immediately caught his gear, tugging everything on. He yanked off his cotton white t-shirt; giving me a glimpse of his six pack, making me able to catch glimpse's of small scars. But it was short lived as he tugged on his BSAA shirt that was stained from his adventures from Africa.
I grabbed my black gun harness and slipped it on over my white tank top; sliding on my black belt along with leather pouches that held first aid spray and a couple magazines of bullets. Ripping out my black bomber jacket, I slipped into it.
"Ready to go," Chris asked, as he cocked his gun.
I heard the click and looked over to see Chris in full gear. I smiled as I clocked in a magazine.
"Locked and loaded, partner."