Darkest Dreams, Brightest Hopes

Chapter Nine: Accidents with Purpose

The jet currently taxiing onto the runway is a welcome sight to the anxious form of Cranston Reed quickly making his way across the tarmac. A dozen of the B.S.A.A.'s best soldiers left at the main compound are gathered around a small supply cache that is loaded by three of the men as soon as the jet comes to a halt. The rest salute their Director, who succinctly returns it and climbs up the ladder and into the transport.

His jet is one of the best in the Federal Fleet, only beaten out by Air Force One and Air Force Two, but none of that matters as he drops into his seat and awaits the squad's commander, "Rico? What are you doing here?"

"You wanted the best, I got you the best," Pike drops into the opposing chair and rests his rifle against the window, "we're going after Redfield, right? He escaped me the last time I had him in my sights, I'm not going to let it happen again."

"Good to hear," Cranston smirks and pours a drink for both of them, offering Rico the glass with a nod, "I have a question before we get underway, though. Harmless."

The drink isn't taken up, a stern look on the other's face telling Reed he won't budge on the offer, "What do you want?"

"That night, your tracking system showed the B.S.A.A. asset under your control was stopped and turned off for little over a minute, why was this?" the air between the two men is frigid.

Reed smiles to disarm, but it doesn't work, "Reed, you know we've had issues with the tracking software since our funding was reduced. I did not stop, I did not hesitate, and because I know what you are asking, I did not warn Chris Redfield. Question the men out there about who is more loyal to the B.S.A.A."

The drink is slammed back, the empty glass turned upside down, and as Rico Pike starts to proceed to the front as his men file in, "We all know that Chris Redfield was the most loyal member of the B.S.A.A. and look how that turned out for us, Pike. Remember your place. Remember who is the puppet and who is the puppet master."

"Strings to hang by, sir," the cockpit door is closed, with several curious glances facing their Director.

I hope he isn't planning what I think he is. I need a group of soldiers that will fire on my command without question, Reed sighs heavily and grips the armrest to his left as the jet lurches forward and begins takeoff.

A little over four hours until they arrive in Denver, and then another half hour drive to Tall Oaks, which means five hours until the pains in his ass are dead and barely even footnotes to the history he is making. Anything that is going to stand in his way must be eliminated: His friends, his coworkers, even the people closest to him if fate deems it so. As the jet leaves the runway, Cranston looks down at his phone, unsure why he's so nervous about the device.

11

Claire steps out onto the street, her heels clicking loudly down the silent concrete street, her hair pulled back in a tight braid with a few strands left to frame her face, "TAXI!"

The yellow cab rolls up with a driver who looks closer to the disreputable side of things rolling down the window, "Where to, lady?"

"Ivy, as quick as you can," she glances down at her watch, fifteen past four, "Get there before the half hour and I'll double the fare."

"Must be important," he begins to pull away, his eyes glancing up to the rearview mirror more than she's comfortable with.

Claire locks gazes with him, "It's a matter of life and death."

The vehicle picks up speed and she sighs heavily as his voice picks up again, "Oh, well that is important then. Must be, if something as pretty as you is heading to a party full of lecherous old men."

"My eyes are up here," she points a finger up to her face with her hand in front of her chest, "but more importantly," she turns the finger to point toward the front of the car, "the road is that way. Better to be safe and polite than rude and dead, wouldn't you agree?"

The driver clears his throat, pushes his eyes onto the road, and nods quickly, "Yes ma'am."

A smirk crosses her colored lips as her ride remains quiet for the rest of the trip, the taxi pulling up in front of Ivy University with exactly one minute left to her suggested deadline. Claire holds to her word and doubles the fare, the cabbie smiling wide as the handful of bills are dropped into his eager hands. He speeds off, leaving the redhead staring in awe at the impressive collection of buildings before her. There is a pretty large crowd already gathered in front of her, the eager people standing in lines to get checked by security and the Secret Service before stepping up to a B.S.A.A. screening area.

Shit, is that the new Genesis Scanner? The last Claire knew, Quint was still trying to get the software working with a TSA full-body x-ray scanner.

That machine is going to ruin her chances of getting in there, as it registers your DNA and checks it against, well, every database in the world. This, of course, includes the B.S.A.A. system that has all biohazard survivors, and their own employees, added to. One scan and she's fucked, so what in the hell is she supposed to do now?

"Ma'am, you have your invitation and ID?" Claire slips a hand into her purse when a voice speaks up to her right.

"There will be no need for that at all, Jefferson, she's a personal invite of the President," a woman dressed up in an outfit Claire could probably see Leon wearing steps up and offers an arm to point her past the security detail.

Red flags, Claire, these are all red flags, her mind is screaming at her to just turn tail and run, but a Redfield never gives up the hunt.

She takes the woman up on her offer and quickly makes her way through the crowd of skeptical on-lookers, a couple even throwing out a rumor that she's the President's personal call-girl. Claire scoffs at this, like she'd ever be that cheap, and once the pair of women are past the B.S.A.A. Genesis Checkpoint, Claire puts her foot down.

"Thanks, but why?" her blue eyes lock with the other's brown, looking for answers behind what is going to be a lie.

"Agent Helena Harper, Secret Service," she extends a hand that Claire refuses to take, which Helena just nods at, "fair enough. I was asked to escort you past security."

More fucking red flags, she needs to get out of here right now, "Again, thanks, but who asked you to do this?"

"I couldn't let another member of the Press be hounded like I was," that voice, like the Ghost of Christmas Past, it seriously can't be.

Short haircut, hair as black as her soul, and of course, some form of red adorning her body, "Yeah, I appreciate it. You are?"

It's Ada Wong, she only saw her once in Raccoon City, running away after Leon was shot, but the stories he told her about the supposed spy made Claire never forget her, "Carla Radames. It's a genuine pleasure."

"Ugh, can I go now? I have an actual job to do…" Helena is promptly dismissed as Claire fights the urge to tear the other woman's throat out.

Claire frowns, unable to contain her disdain as Ada, calling herself Carla, winks at her, "Risky move coming here, girl. Tell me, how bad does his shoulder hurt when it rains?"

"Like you actually give a fuck," the redhead pulls the Asian woman in close, growling into her right ear, "you're lucky I came by when I did. If he died there, I would've made sure you didn't make it out of that lab."

A smirk, one that nearly sets Claire's blood on fire, "Leon thought he did the same when I fell off that walkway… As fun as reliving our greatest hits is, you're welcome for getting you past the security that would've surely spoiled your fun."

"Why though?" her hand has not let go of Ada's upper arm.

The arm in her grasp is yanked hard to free the woman attached to it, "Because I'm curious what you will do here. I expect you are looking for a private meeting with Benford?"

"Don't get in my way, Ada, I swear that's a mistake you don't want to make," the raven-haired woman chuckles softly and saunters away, sliding one hand along a random man's arm, grabbing his attention and clearly his escort through the event.

Now what? A Secret Service Agent knows I don't belong here, I have a spy possibly vying for the same information I am, and she's got a LOT more experience with this game than I do… if it wouldn't draw attention, Claire would kick the table next to her over.

A waiter slips past her with a tray of drinks, which she helps herself to, and Claire begins watching Ada work her way through the crowd, trying to pick up whatever tips she can. It makes her skin crawl to know she has to do this to survive here, but Ada pulled her into a viper's nest. Another light touch, a casual laugh that means nothing, and Ada slips into the offered arm, nearly wrapping herself around the man like the snake she is.

Claire notices that Ada is slowly working her way toward the front of the crowd, If she's really after the President, I got to catch up…

The glass is slammed back with skill that would make Chris proud and she slowly makes her way to the table offering more drinks. One man is fumbling with the drink in front of him, almost spilling it as Claire deftly reaches in and stops the glass from tipping over. She smiles at him as he takes the drink, winking as he nods politely at her.

"Excuse me," Claire feels slighted as the man steps past her, ignoring her attempts to seduce him.

Okay, that's a fail. Maybe Jill should've been here instead of me, another man steps up, this one not slick in the least with his wandering eyes.

Attempt number two, Claire steps up, leans more onto the table than she ever has in her life, hoping to God her back doesn't pop, "I'll have whatever he's having."

"You don't even know what I'm getting," oh, it seems his eyes aren't the only things that wander as one hand slips up her arm.

Claire smiles and leans closer to him, "Does it matter? You seem like a man with good taste."

Her target winks at her and orders two of a drink that screams I-Don't-Know-How-To-Alcohol, hands her one, and offers her his arm, "Gregory Pointess. Pleasure, Miss?"

PANIC! THINK! NAME YOURSELF! "It's a pleasure for me, as well, Gregory. My name is," random name, come on, "Elza Walker."

Her brain just decides to die on her and pick the name of her favorite motorcycle racer, "Well, I'm glad to see the name is as beautiful as the woman who carries it."

Something snaps in Claire at Gregory's attempts at flirting and whatever snapped, it makes her miss Leon immensely, "Keep those lines and these drinks coming, and you'll see just how beautiful I can get. Do you teach here? With a last name like Pointess, I expect you to teach theology or something."

"Oh, that's very flattering of you, but I just work in the Accounting Department," of course he does…

Ada probably picked someone who works directly under the President while Claire is stuck with a simple paper-pusher… Leon, you are going to laugh your ass off at this story…

11

Ada has yet to take one eye off of Claire as she fumbles her way through copying her moves, Silly girl, I've been here for hours scouting the place and the people invited… Choose wisely.

There, the man she's approaching now, he's the head of the University's Security Team, not a bad choice, except he's completely uninterested in her. Too bad for her… Ada spins around her impromptu date, resting her eyes back on the redhead as she seems to have redoubled her efforts and chosen, Gregory Pointess of the Accounting Department. A smile crosses the spy's lips as she watches the female Redfield crash and burn. Ada declares herself the winner as she continues absently nodding and laughing at something the man with his arm around her has said.

His face flashes in her eyes, Kevin Ryman, current Director of the Department of Security Operations under President Benford, and someone who passingly reminds me of Leon.

Ada knows all about him, another survivor from Raccoon City, joined up with the Government in trade for immunity for fellow survivor Yoko Suzuki. Joined Adam Benford's Administration the day he announced his plans to tackle bioterror around the world through the creation of a new department specifically designed to tackle Biohazard incidents alongside the B.S.A.A. Kevin has become a bit of the celebrity since that day, being known for throwing himself into the thick of it instead of ordering other people to face the nightmares. Ada would like to think it was pure luck that kept them from crossing paths before now, but she knows it was Wesker's doing.

"So, ready to meet the man of the hour?" she thought he'd never ask and she'd have to prod him that way.

She bats her eyes at him and squeezes his arm, "Oh I don't know… It's so terrifying going from interviewing local cops all the way up to the President…"

"Don't worry, babe," she cringes a little and considers pulling out the knife hidden along her thigh, "he's a teddy bear."

Sixteen steps from the podium, time for a bit of acting, "Oh no!"

There is a small crack as Ada collapses near the podium, both hands wrapped around her ankle, "Carla! Are you okay?"

"Oh, oh I'm fine… The spike of my stiletto broke… Luckily I didn't break my ankle… Can you do me a favor? I have a pair of flats in my bag at Security, can you get them for me?" she holds up the broken heel to prove her point, "I'd rather not get my stockings wet, you know?"

An awkward chuckle is all it takes and Kevin nods, men, "Sure, be right back."

As soon as her toy vanishes from view, Ada slides over to the podium, snips a wire from the device, slips it into her purse, and then tosses the broken heel to the side just in time for him to return, "Here you go, Carla."

She expects him to just hand her the extra pair of shoes, but nope, Kevin picks her up in his arms and carries her over to a bench, which she would almost find flattering, if she could actually feel anything anymore. Ada thanks him and quickly trades the one remaining heel for the more comfortable flats. Once her footwear is addressed, she nods at Kevin, snakes her left arm through his bent elbow, and rests her head on his shoulder as the two slowly make their way into the dining hall.

Ada affords one look back at Claire, offers a wink, and smiles wide as the door closes, Good luck!

END