Author's Note: Sorry for the late update; I've gotten caught up with exams this week. I'm really happy about the support I'm getting, I'm glad to see you like it so far. Things are starting to make a bit of sense but others are just getting even worse. I admit it, yeah, I've created a whole web of seemingly senseless things but they'll all tie up in the end; a mistery after another. Enjoy this update, guys!^^

Disclaimer: The usual.

VI

Master and puppet

In your head!

"What do you mean he's dead?" Sherry almost exclaimed. "He kicked the bucket, just like that?"

Jill glanced from Claire to Wesker and then back at her, her heart sinking. First Greene, then the executive board, and now Marco? Was Chris getting that worse? But how could it have happened? What reasons would he have had to kill Marco? Those questions and more assaulted her mind, rendered her unable to think clearly. The bigger picture was at hand, ready to be examined.

"Well, yes!" Zoe exclaimed with hasty nods. "It's already out in all of Italy's newspapers! It'll take a while to get here, but the news are already out!"

"Sherry, check 'La Nuova Venezia'," Leon intervened instantly. "If it happened in Venice, then that newspaper is a must-check." He placed himself beside her as Sherry opened her laptop and looked up said newspaper. Jill suddenly noticed Wesker's intent stare on her, inquisitive.

"What would you make of it?" she asked in return. "I have my thoughts already, but…"

"It's a mere diversion; that's what I stand in favor of," he replied with a firm nod. "Let's see what the world's being told about, shall we?"

"Gee, you sure you can make out all of this?" Jill heard Sherry ask Leon. She turned, expectant towards her friend's answer. Leon nodded. "Wow, we're a bunch of surprises, aren't we?"

"Yeah, it's simple enough. Alright…" And as Leon skimmed over the article, quick as mercury, Jill prayed for everything to not be as worse as she was imagining it would be. "Holy crap, you're not gonna believe this: 'Marco Gionne, presumed dead. This morning, at exactly six fifteen, Marco Gionne's residence was cordoned off by the police, who found clear evidence of Gionne's murder.' That's the main thing… but you're going to find this strange: there's no body."

"No body?" echoed Rebecca, eyes wide. Leon shook his head.

"No body at all," he confirmed.

"So much for 'clear evidence'," Claire scoffed with a bitter smirk. Jill jumped at such remark.

Wait a minute…

"The police found the residence to be clean of miscellaneous proof and any kind of print, as well as finding no signs of struggle," Leon continued. "What they did find, pay attention, were spatters of blood on one of the walls and a small puddle of it on the floor right under these. They've got no body, but they could determine a few things out of that examination. Also, there had been a theory about a sniper taking up the job, but no bullet had pierced the window. Everything seemed normal."

"Anything else about the body?" asked Jill. She already had a hunch of what was cooking.

"Not much, really," Leon said, shrugging. "Until they find him –heh, if they find him-, he's presumed dead. The police are going to carry out an investigation; if the body hasn't turned up in two weeks, then it's official."

Then if that was the case, Jill was sure it hadn't been Chris' voluntary and conscious doing. Everything was so clean and normal that it sounded staged, planned down to a T. No body, only blood marks that could very well be somebody else's, and with no previous warning. "My God…"

"A complete farce," Wesker said with a blunt gesture of his hand. Jill, as everyone did, turned to face him, astounded at his simple reaction. And apparently, he had no arguments to justify himself rather than a dry, "Please, it's so obvious it hurts."

"But if it's that obvious, and I myself see it," Rebecca began, stepping forward, "why would it be? I mean, they could've planned this more carefully, I think."

"Nothing's more carefully planned than an unexpected series of events." Jill wondered what thoughts could be crossing Wesker's mind right then. "They catch you when you least expect it. Planning isn't the complicated thing: it's the timing that's essential. Let's examine the big picture: Chris is gone and one by one, the pawns of Tricell fall. Then it's an unexpected checkmate and endgame. We've got murders here and there, clues that have no apparent meaning, and now this trap: piecing everything together, he's just calling our attention." He shrugged. "All in a day's work."

"And like Jill said, it doesn't exactly have to make any logical sense," Sherry intervened, folding her arms across her chest. "I suppose that as long as the real truth doesn't get out, then we've got a good time window. Mother of God, he sure likes twisting things. I can't believe he's putting us through this."

"If he's done this, it's because he wanted it to happen," Jill stated, frowning. She was on the right track; she knew it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice told her to keep going: she would reach a conclusion. "Tricell's gone for good now that the executive board's out of the way and with his 'murder', then it's his chance to keep a low profile. He's telling us where he is, he's telling us what he's going to do, and all because he just wants this to be a game." That simple prospect infuriated her.

"You think he's a distant relative of the Ashfords?" Claire quipped, that dark humor triggering a smirk from Leon. "He's not getting away with this, I swear. Son of a bitch, how dare he…?"

"Simply daring," Wesker said with a smirk, "and in a very stupid way. We can't forget there's something else under this fast pace of his."

"Getting to you, perhaps?" Claire shot back, cocking an eyebrow. "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Might very well be the case," he agreed, shrugging, "but I'd prefer to wait before jumping to conclusions. And I think this sets the countdown off: we need to move. It's our only chance if we don't want to lose the lead."

"Agreed," Sherry acknowledged, nodding. "I can get you a plane to get there."

"Best thing we can do as a start is avoid travelling together," Leon stated, firm. All eyes were on him in a mere fraction of a second. "Maybe sticking together is our best way to defend ourselves against a possible move, but Marco's strategy has given us the upper hand here: if he wants to carry out any kind of… well, task," He grimaced at the word, "he's only got Chris to do it. Perhaps he may have reflexes beyond normal now, but I don't think he can cover up several miles of distance in an excessively short period of time."

"Chris isn't to be underestimated," Wesker added, his tone hard, "but he's right. At the same time, we would have to travel in an unpredictable way. Otherwise, we'd be perfect targets for him."

"If he's calling our attention, then I suppose he wouldn't touch us for the time being," Rebecca said, frowning. "Everything's possible now, though."

"And quite." Sherry gave a sharp exhale. "So, how're you going to do it?"

Wesker straightened his stance. "He already knows we're coming; what would it matter if we came or not at the same time? The point here is who we travel with, and I go for pairs." Jill noticed a hint of a smile. "Unusual pairs, if I must make my point clear."

A look of indignation flashed across Claire's features, but she agreed like everybody else. Then, she added, looking at Rebecca, "But we're not an even number. One of us would have to go alone."

"And that would be me," Rebecca said promptly, not giving anyone any time to speak. "Both Jill and Claire are top priorities now, so the pairs would go along better for them."

"And what about you?" Jill asked, concerned. "You'd be an easy target too, not to mention you could be Chris' first one." It felt dreadful to say something like that, but it was an irrefutable truth. "You were the recipient of his letter, so any offensive action would be against you first."

"Unlikely," Wesker piped up. He was staring right at Rebecca, his gaze intent. "We all hold number one on his list. Right now, there's a loophole both Marco and us can exploit, and that loophole is the uncertainty of the first strike. On his side, and since both of you are important, he would have to choose carefully who he'd go for. On our side, during that thinking, we can move and anticipate any sort of strategy. Whoever moves first will have the last word."

"I'll go alone," said Rebecca, reassuring. "At least I won't get you deeper into the mess."

Sherry chuckled. "If it's about danger, we've got plenty. In any case, I see no problem." She turned to her laptop, typed something in and, after a few seconds, she said, "The earliest plane you could catch is the one that leaves whenever you tell me within a reasonable limit." Her smile was wide, amused.

Claire shrugged. "The sooner, the better… having the jetlag in mind. If we get there by evening, local time in Venice, I think it'd go fine."

"So it would be all of us together at first, and then find different places to stay," Jill summed up, pensive. "I don't see any problem with that. We'll make the pairs as we go, but I think we all have an idea of how it'll turn out."

Sherry chuckled. "I suppose so. I'll stay here with my team and keep tabs on you. Any kind of information or tip, we'll pass it on to you. Agreed?"

Jill felt a pang of optimism when everybody nodded their agreement. They had the chance to act, a chance they'd been waiting for so long. Finally, a path to follow.

The wait was over.

–

"Sherry! What are you doing here?"

An eleven old Sherry backed away from the looming figures of her parents and even though Annette sounded angry, Sherry couldn't pay attention to her: instead, she kept her focus on William, who was staring at her in disbelief. Wordless, she kept on looking at him, ignoring her mother scolding her. At last, he said,

"So you know, right?" The girl examined her father, whose gaze was dark and almost despaired, but also had traces of determination. He had always been a man of many quirks, after all.

Sherry nodded at last, being careful not to say anything that could make the situation worse. But it wasn't her who did, nor was it Annette, but William himself.

"You know how friendship is, right?" he said, crouching in front of Sherry. "It always has many lies, and this is one of that kind. I won't reveal the secret and if you somehow end up with him, you'll have to bear responsibility. If the time comes, tell him. Will you remember?"

Sherry didn't understand the seriousness of the situation she would put herself in, but she nodded anyway. That was the only thing her father left her as his legacy.

A lie.

X

13:04 pm.

Sherry was about to put her hand in the doorknob when she stopped, her fingers freezing in the air. She didn't have the guts; that much was clear. A flurry of emotions overcame her, sent her reeling and forced her to back off a few steps. Nothing frightened her more than Wesker's possible reaction at what she had to say, the truth that had been buried for several years without seeing the light. She had predicted a result. It was the most awful one, but also the most plausible: he'd kill her. He'd kill her like he would've killed William had he revealed the secret to him instead of her. Her heart sped up, pounding furiously in her chest and ears. If she didn't tell him now, when would she?

It was now or never. Do or die.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

With her determination walking the tightrope, Sherry stepped forward and knocked on her office's door. It felt strange, but she knew Wesker was inside browsing through a few files and he had requested not to be disturbed. A few seconds went by until his reply came and she stepped inside, tentative. She felt him searching for her eyes since the same instant she had gone through the door; it was hard to avoid his gaze. Sherry opened her mouth to speak, but it was because of his hidden but intense stare that she fell silent. Wesker was holding a small half-open notebook in his right hand, a notebook she suddenly recognized. Her breath hitched.

"Tell me something," he said after painful moments of silence, "What should I do now?"

So it was true after all: he'd kill her. Sherry exhaled all the air she'd been holding, frowned and closed her eyes in awe. William had been right: the responsibility was hers and only hers. She opened her eyes again, ready to face him. Sherry stood perfectly still, in waiting.

"I want to hear it from you: why?"

Sherry was struck with the agony and anger in that single word, emotions that seemed non-existent. Wesker was perfectly calm, his breathing steady and his stance relaxed, but there was something in him, aside from his demeanor, that belied his inner tempest: what was it?

"I… I didn't have a choice, Wesker," Sherry said, her gut seizing up in pain. "I couldn't tell you, not… not until Spencer was dead."

"Three years… Three years that bastard has been dead and you haven't uttered a single word about this," Wesker countered, shutting the book closed. "Your initial course of action is understandable, but you've had more than enough time to tell me."

"And risk both my neck and yours?" Sherry burst out, tears pricking at her eyes. She fought them back, frustration burning within her. "I couldn't get to you after 2006, I found you as an amnesiac three years later, and now it turns out it's my fault? Did you really want me to force it all on you? If it wasn't for my silence, you wouldn't be here right now."

"Enough with the heroics; I want the truth!" Sherry jumped at the sharpness in his voice, sharpness marked with pain. "I've read the entries dated on late August, I've read of the moment you broke down because of the stress you were soldiering on with; I've read everything I've been able to. Don't try to hide it from me now: you didn't tell me everything, did you?"

"When the time comes, tell him."

I suppose that time is now, dad.

"I didn't, you're right," Sherry said as firm as possible. "I'd come here just to tell you about that. It's time you knew."

"And whose decision was that?"

"It was William's!" Sherry snapped, scowling at him. "It was dad's decision to keep it from you, and rightfully so! Burying the truth away was his way to protect you! If not, it would've all gone to hell by now!" She sighed, biting on her lip. "It was the only thing he left as a legacy… a white lie."

"Protect me?" Wesker scoffed. He was cold, his teeth bared in an arrogant smile. "And from what, if I may ask?"

"From Spencer himself and from a sure death!" Sherry stepped forward, unafraid. "He didn't tell me that, but I figured it out myself. He saved your life and you didn't even notice!"

And then, something clicked. There was silence, the tension spiking.

"Tell me," came Wesker's command. It was neither harsh nor gentle, just demanding. "Tell me what happened. Tell me what's going on." Sherry watched him set the book aside and leave his gaze out of sight, his mouth a thin line. "You didn't stop telling me I'd remember; your conviction even rubbed off on me. I need you to tell me this, or else all I've gathered will be for nothing. You know that better than anybody else."

Sherry hesitated, struck by his words, but then started explaining. The moment of truth had come.

"Dad was directly involved in the Wesker Children project."

It was then that she noticed a visible change in Wesker's demeanor: he tensed, clenched a fist and stared at her in what seemed shock… raw and utter shock. "That can't be."

I wish it wasn't like that.

She pursed her lips before continuing. "He had his reasons, too. He knew who you really were, where you were born, who raised you; everything. He couldn't reveal it, which was the toughest part; he wanted to tell you so badly… but it would only endanger both you and him."

"Didn't he leave anything behind?" Wesker inquired, having overcome his bafflement. "Any evidence?"

Sherry shook her head, unwillingly destroying his hopes. "Nothing… Well, he did leave his personal diary behind, which he gave to me, but I had to burn it: it would mark me as a perfect target. Nevertheless, I kept certain pages and those I have really well hidden. Spencer was still at large at the time, and so were you. If any of you got hold of it, I wouldn't have lasted long. At the same time, if Spencer indeed had gotten his hands on William's notes, he would've restarted the project and history would've repeated itself."

"I would've been expendable," Wesker stated, his tone flat. She nodded, downcast.

"It would've been time to refresh, back to square one," she agreed, averting her gaze. "You know…" She smiled, wistful, "I would've had a brother."

"What did you just say?"

"Yeah!" She nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. They were distant memories, painful and depressing, but Sherry remembered them with incredible fondness. "Dad would've named him Shaun and I'm sure he would've been just like him. But in the end, thanks to his refusal to get involved in the project, I lost him." She paused, letting Wesker take in what she'd just said. "Mom was pregnant at the time, and I think the year was 1984. Spencer used William to his own interest and dad didn't even know. He told him about the project; William wrote it was the worst thing he'd ever heard about, specially considering you were his best friend. He would've never dared to harm you, so he refused the first time."

"There was a second?" Wesker perked up his head, his tone hardening with hate.

"When he said no, Spencer sent him a warning." Sherry swallowed, recalling William's written words. Even written, she had sensed his pain, pain that escaped every possible description, pain so intense it had marked her. And it was because of that reminiscence that a tear spilled, but she didn't falter. "A few days after their meeting, mom fell terribly ill: she had been poisoned. Whilst she recovered… she lost the baby. The toxin had caused a natural abortion; my brother was dead. The second time dad was asked, it was me who was at stake." She lifted her eyes to Wesker, smirking sadly. "Now you see the reason behind our silence?"

"If that's the case, then the virus that I was given was-"

"-wasn't from a mutation stock, no," Sherry finished for him. "He wrote that he was once more threatened, and I'll quote him: 'driven to act because of my fear towards the prospect of losing my family, but I was about to lose one of those members'. Now I see how special your friendship was and how important to were to him. Then you both parted ways, and different fates befell you."

After a moment of silence and meditation, Wesker said, "He told me about Annette being sick, but I never imagined there was such a vile reason behind her illness."

Sherry smiled inwardly at such words, pure joy invading her.

He would never have said something like that if he was still bugged off like he was before. Oh, Jill, what did you do to him that I couldn't?

"That is our story," she said. "I never meant to harm you, Wesker, not after everything you've done for me. I just never found the right moment to tell you." She chuckled. "It was more than complicated."

But he said nothing. Wesker remained completely silent, like a tomb, which sent Sherry into a state of uneasiness. She couldn't make out where he was looking at or what he was thinking, something that did nothing to put her back at ease. He was serene, calm. Eventually, he looked up at her with a ghost of a smile.

"How long have you kept this to yourself?"

"Since I was eleven," Sherry replied immediately. "I overheard their argument on a very peculiar night: the night of my birthday. It's ironic, actually: to receive that which you're not meant to receive on such a day." She smirked. "Still, William didn't hesitate to tell me. He knew what would happen to him; he just didn't know when. He wrote that himself, too. He was ready."

"A merely objective observation, but I certainly think you had guts to hold this back from me," Wesker commented, tilting his head. "Remember the day I questioned you?" He then chuckled, the sound bitter. "You have a gift for lying, something none of your parents had."

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you," Sherry said, distrustful of his intentions.

She sighed, feeling both hollow and wounded after such a revelation. She suspected he was still taking in the facts and that it wouldn't end like she expected. Judging by his reaction and disposition towards the matter, she suspected she would end up unharmed: perhaps Wesker was having second thoughts on how to make her pay. And ironically, she was ready: there had been nothing noble in William's actions, not to mention hers. She was ready to atone for her father's own sins.

What she had not expected was to find Wesker so close to her once she lifted up her gaze once more. She let a cold shiver run down her spine, warning her of the danger of being so close. Nevertheless, nothing happened. Time seemed to slow down for her. Wesker gently laid a hand on her shoulder, a gesture Sherry interpreted as a bad omen: it would really happen.

"He would've been proud of you."

It took her a few heartbeats to register what he'd just said.

By the time she did and turned to face him, Wesker was gone.

–

20:30 pm.

"So, are we ready to leave?"

Rebecca turned around and found Leon standing at her door, his countenance more than casual. She found a glint of confidence in his eyes, something she hadn't seen in somebody's eyes for a long time. She barely knew Leon as well as the others did but out of the first impression he had caused her the first time they met, Rebecca had expected him to be a bit more uptight; now, judging by his demeanor, it seemed otherwise. She smiled at him, stuffed her euro notes inside her pocket, zipped her bag closed and slipped her jacket on.

"You sure look casual," she remarked. "I thought you were more uptight."

Leon simply shrugged. "You wouldn't know," he said, revealing a Glock 17 concealed under his own jacket. "I don't sit well with following rules by the book at all times. If I can say so, you're not exactly wearing combat gear either, so we're even."

"We all are, I guess," Rebecca admitted, going past him and closing the door. "And I also think we're all equally freaked out; at least, I am."

This time, Leon chuckled. "You should've offered your complaints, then. You sure you'll be fine?"

"Yeah! No problems on that!" she replied, shaking off his concern with a hasty shake of her head and a smile. "I may not have been in the field as long as all of you have, but I still can hold my own against an enemy." She was curious as to what the reason behind his concern was: they barely knew each other.

You're still partners, you idiot, and Claire's told you about him. He's being serious.

"I don't doubt it," he said in the end. They were both silent as they headed to meet the others under the bridge.

Rebecca stiffened whenever she felt the cold metal of her Beretta against her ribs: a nasty reminder of their mission and what they would achieve with it. Her mind was still on Chris' letter, senselessly musing upon it and adding another handful of concern to the pile of it she was soldiering on with. It was incredible to see how hard and fast Chris had fallen.

Wesker would've most likely mocked our confidence in him, considering the state he's in now.

A pang of shock hit her. What was that for?

Rebecca held off a smirk.

She could barely believe how fast she'd gotten used to being in Wesker's company, not to mention working side-to-side with her old enemy. She thought of him as 'old' now, specially after seeing how quickly things were changing for all of them. She had seen her friends adapt; Claire herself was acting less reluctant when dealing with him, but they were still like the spark and the flame. Whereas Wesker dealt with her with his usual indifference and sarcasm, Claire did so with Chris' fierceness and her quick wit. It was also strange to see that even Leon showed himself to be at ease most of the time, though he was on his toes more than everybody else. Rebecca could see it in his face: he was cautious, skeptical and wise.

It didn't take them long to get to the others; Sherry was also with them. They were in the middle of a conversation, all of them serious except for Wesker, who smirked after a remark was thrown at him. Rebecca crossed her arms, shuddering due to the chilly breeze, and placed herself next to Jill.

"It shouldn't take you a lot to get there," Sherry was saying. "Traffic's not that hectic at this hour and the pilot's already waiting for you. She's a punctual person, actually."

"You didn't have the chance to slip us by airport security?" Claire inquired, offering her a matter-of-factly grin and look. Sherry shrugged, tilted her head upwards.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't."

"But I can," Leon piped up in that same instant, glancing at Claire, then to Sherry. "I may be off-duty now, but I'm still with the government. I made some arrangements with Hunnigan just before leaving. Lucky I brought my clearance with me."

Claire chuckled. "Oh really? So you are going to cheat this time?"

Rebecca looked up at Leon, whose eyes gave away his very thoughts. There was a special glint in them, a glint she hadn't seen in anybody else but him.

"This time, the end will justify the means, Claire," he replied with a casual shrug and smile. "In fact, she should be there herself, so we won't have any problems. She's half an hour from the airport, so we'll be on time if we go now."

"Most useful thinking," Wesker remarked with unusual impassiveness. He turned to Sherry. "Remember, take the necessary steps should anything come up. You know what to do."

"Nothing will happen," Sherry asserted, firm, "that much is clear. We'll get this done and that's it, but I'll take your advice into account." She made a pause, glanced at everyone with a brief smile. "You just get yourselves back here in one piece, okay?"

The farewell-bidding was short, practically non-existent. They directly got into Sherry's hatchback, a black Ford Focus –and recently bought, as Rebecca could see- and Jill drove them to the airport. The ride was silent, not a single word was uttered, which made Rebecca more uneasy than she already was. They were making their move, they had actually had the chance to make it, and it was time to step into the game.

"So, what can we expect once we get to Venice?" Jill asked, breaking the silence.

"Everything and anything," Wesker replied. "It's our luck that we're all prepared, though. We won't be easy targets; at least, not if Marco decides to use conventional methods. Knowing him, perhaps he will."

"You seem to know him well," Claire remarked, shooting a short glance outside the window.

"I actually met him once," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Also, out of what Excella told me, I made some further deductions about his character. I'll sum up everything in a simple expression: they're both complete opposites."

"How so?" asked Claire. Jill took the turn to speak this time, her tone calm.

"Whereas Excella was too high on her pedestal, I can say that Marco's not that much," she said, shifting gears. "You've all seen he's very calm and has an unusual pace for planning. He's got a good mind despite being so young, and I think you all know what I mean by that."

Rebecca saw Wesker's countenance turn slightly somber. "As I myself said, Marco can't manipulate people, but events… they're his specialty. More than enough proof is how he's managed to fake so much information in such a short time."

She decided it was time to ask her question. It had been indeed gnawing at her for a very long time, and this was the perfect moment to ask.

"What can we expect from Chris?"

She was very open; Rebecca had even doubted she would have avoided faltering. The hunch she'd had right before asking morphed into a hole in her chest when Wesker didn't reply immediately.

"Expect to find a more complex version of me… while I still had it," he said after a few moments. "Being complex doesn't exempt him from being radically simple, either, but judging by the state he's in now, I dare say he's more dangerous than he was before."

"How?" Leon asked. "We all saw what he can do, but how does his instability make him more dangerous?"

Rebecca, through the corner of her eye, saw Claire glare daggers at Leon, who shrugged it off.

She has to understand it's a completely logical question. I myself wonder the same.

Wesker didn't hesitate this time. "A mentally stable person, in scenarios of such stress and confusion, will cling to that which makes them calm, that which puts them at ease, and that is a principle, a thought. It may be the most unusual of things, but it's always constant due to a sensation of safety. But when it comes to Chris…" He chuckled here. "He has a larger repertoire than most people. He can cling to anything, he can use everything, and that makes him relatively unpredictable."

"But if we managed to figure it out ahead of him," Rebecca began, adding a bit of her reasoning, "then we would have the upper hand, wouldn't we?"

"Certainly," Wesker replied. "Where he finds, let's say, solace is in his second self, the one that is currently in control."

"But that's the problem: he's still unpredictable in a way," Claire piped up, her tone fiercer than before. "We don't know how that second self of his is."

To Rebecca's surprise, Wesker chuckled. "Oh, but you do, which is why we are keeping you and Jill as the queen and king of this game. You two must know him better than anyone else."

Claire scoffed as Jill pulled the car to a stop at the parking lot. "Heh, excluding you, of course?"

Wesker's only response was a brief smile, more sarcastic than anything. Rebecca felt a bit down in the dumps as she collected her bag from the trunk.

It was going to be a long trip.

–

Sherry didn't go back inside until the car was well out of sight. It made her uneasy to know she would have to stay miles away from Wesker and that in one moment or another, anything could go wrong. Sherry herself wasn't very optimistic herself since life had taught her otherwise, but Wesker had done his very best –and those had been his words- to reassure her. Jill had also shown herself as bright, looking on the lighter side of things, but even she had not hidden her worry and unrest. She had openly confessed that she was afraid of not coming back and what was worse for her: to find Chris alive but in an irreversible state… or even not finding him. Sherry, in that moment, had remembered the sarcastic compliments Wesker had some other time thrown at Jill many years ago, whilst their enmity was still strong, and found no other choice but to agree to them… without the sarcasm, of course.

She gathered her wits, pulled herself together and went back inside. As she took the elevator, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She stared at the screen in distrust for a few moments, seeing it was an unknown number to her, but then picked up.

"Hello?"

"Change of plans, honey; they're landing at our station." The voice was a woman's, mocking and wicked, and it didn't take Sherry long to figure out who she was talking about.

"Hey, what-?"

But before she could complete her furious question, the line was cut.

A/N: And there you have it.

Yes, I firmly believe William was involved in the Project. It has been a theory that has been roaming my mind and I was desperate to include it in this story, so there you go. Everything that Sherry's told Wesker is true (at least, that's how I see it). Let's see how Wesker takes it because, if you remember, we still have Jacob, Lara and Garrett (from the first epilogue) to deal with. As I said, they had a lot to do with Wesker & project; consequently, they (or not all of them) are somehow related to/have had something to do with William. Don't worry, it'll be explain, though much later on.

20 cyber-cookies for those who guess who just called Sherry about that change of plans. Yes, there will be because I will be getting some other characters to interact with the group, so stay on your toes. Remember the offer with the cookies: let's see who gets the guess right. We'll get to Chris & co. soon, too, so the more reason to keep an eye out.

Reviews are appreciated!^^