5. I Still Remember
Steve ran his fingers along the jet's wing. "Claire," he whispered wistfully, remembering their escape from Rockfort Island. He could almost smell the flowery scent of Claire's hair. She'd used hair conditioner made of roses and it smelled like his mother's garden from when he was little. It had soothed him, even in the last moments of his life.
He wondered what she smelled like now and inhaled deeply, finding nothing but the lingering traces of Ada Wong's expensive perfume.
Ada was standing several feet away, talking to a scientist. "Find the pilot," Ada said, signing her name on the release papers. The man nodded and scurried off. She turned to Steve. "Get on the plane, we're leaving soon."
Steve walked up the stairs into the belly of the plane and sat on an overturned crate, looking out into the base. The hanger was empty, cold and dark. He felt silly for wearing sunglasses indoors, but Ada Wong had told him it helped him look human. She'd said it casually and coolly, but to Steve it had been anything but. It was the first genuine admission that he was no longer human, that blood was no longer pumping through his veins; that he was merely a monster disguising himself as a human being. He wondered how Claire would react when she saw him. He wondered how he would react when he saw her.
After a few minutes, Ada joined him, leaning against the helicopter's side. She glanced at Steve. He was nothing more than a kid. She felt a hint of disgust for Albert Wesker bringing him back to life. It was unfair and cruel, even for Wesker. It was worse than what he had done to Sherry Birken.
"So, are you here to watch me?" Steve said.
"No," Ada said. "You're here to watch me."
"Oh." Until this point, Steve thought she was the one in charge. Now he wondered who was and what was really going on. Processing the revelation, he looked at her, seeing her in a different light. "Why do you have to be watched?"
She didn't reply and ran a small hand through her neatly layered black hair. Finally, she shrugged indifferently as if the entire matter didn't concern her and she were only along to enjoy the ride.
"Are you a monster too?" Steve asked.
"If I were, you would be able to smell the virus on me," she said curtly. "Do you smell the virus on me?"
He sniffed. "No, I just smell perfume."
"Chanel. It's Chanel."
Steve folded his arms across his chest as he stood. "Well, then if you aren't a monster, what are you?"
"The bitch in the red dress, I believe a man once said," she said, as if that explained anything, pushing herself off the wall and looking at the mouth of the plane. The pilot had arrived and was walking up the stairs to the inside of the plane where Steve and Ada were. When he arrived, Ada brought her hand to his and shook firmly, smiling.
He took his hand out of hers, ending the gesture prematurely. He didn't return the smile. He wasn't the type for formalities. He was the type of man you paid in cash to ask no questions and to get you to the destination in one piece. He was a mercenary; a rogue pilot.
"It'll be a short flight, don't bother warming up to me," he stated bluntly and, walking away, he smiled. He pushed a red button that opened the door to the cockpit, where he would remain for the rest of the flight. A few seconds later the stairs retracted and the plane closed up tight, the hanger disappearing from sight. There was a low rumble as the jet engines began to heat.
"You weren't at Rockfort Island, were you?" Steve asked, as the jet began to taxi out of the hanger.
"Prisons aren't my style," she said. She felt the need to be short with Steve, still disturbed by the humanity of his tyranny. He seemed completely normal despite the T-Veronica virus running through his blood and it made her feel uneasy. Even more uneasy was the fact that he seemed to be seeking a friendship from her, forming a mental bond out of their unfortunate partnership.
"Did you know Claire?"
"A little." She bit her lip and gripped the side of the jet tightly to brace herself as the jet lifted off the ground and into the air. She tried to remember Claire Redfield, but couldn't remember anything except for how she had wanted to be Claire desperately when she'd watched Leon board the underground train with her and Sherry Birken from a distance. She could remember bitterly thinking that she would give anything to swap lives at that point. It seemed like such a long time ago, though; too long ago even to be thinking about at her age, with her history. She was who she was and that was long since decided.
"She's amazing," Steve said. He didn't skip a beat when it came to Claire Redfield.
"Do you ever get tired of being obsessed with her?" Ada said tartly, still clenching the riveted side of the jet as the plane leveled out. She hated flying. "She probably doesn't even remember your name."
The words seemed to sting him into a silence as he was quiet for several minutes. When he spoke again, it came out meek and unsteady. "Is she with anyone? I mean, you know, with anyone."
Ada remained silent, letting him draw his own conclusion as Wesker had instructed her to do right before their flight. It was absolutely necessary to plant the seeds of betrayal and let his mind grow them into deep-rooted hatred. She hated lying to the kid, but she reasoned that this wasn't too much of a lie. At least she wasn't verbally spreading a lie, just an implication with silence. How he took it was his own fault.
"Why won't you tell me?" Steve said.
Then he said, "Is it Leon Kennedy?"
Even at the mention of Leon, she remained taciturn. She kept the silence throughout the rest of the flight, though acutely aware of the monstrous eyes hidden behind sunglasses watching her from across the plane. It was only as they hit the tarmac at a small private airport in a rural area of Virginia that she walked by him and whispered, "No, Steve, she isn't."
It was out of character for her to do this and she knew she would regret it if she lived to, but she couldn't help it. While Ada Wong may have been many things, she was not the type to a kick a man when he was down even if it was her assignment. She wasn't going to be responsible for removing the last thread of humanity from Steve Burnside, for placing the seeds of jealousy in his innocent soul, and Albert Wesker could just learn to deal with that much, after all he had done to her.
For his part, Steve Burnside noticeably relaxed and shot her a grateful look, perhaps somewhat aware she had said something she wasn't supposed to.
After getting off the plane and handing the pilot a duffle bag of unmarked bills, Ada Wong led Steve and herself to an inconspicuous black Mercedes-Benz parked outside the private airport's property next to a chain link fence. The car had no plates and dark tinted windows. Steve whistled as she opened the door and he saw the interior for the first time.
"This car is loaded," he said as he ran his hand on the tan leather passenger seat.
"Don't get too attached, we have to leave it outside of D.C. at a gas station."
"Why?"
"We don't want to be tracked," Ada Wong explained, slightly irritated by his inexperience. She disliked unnecessary questions. She put the key in the ignition and it started flawlessly without a sound. She adjusted the seat and looked into the rearview mirror to check her own reflection before hitting the gas and roaring down the street, the car kicking up dust in its wake.
About fifteen minutes later, as she merged onto a highway heading towards the nation's capital, Ada's radio buzzed loudly. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, she picked it up and looked in the tiny window to see Albert Wesker's face. He looked worried, or as closed to worried as she had ever seen him anyway.
"Is Steve Burnside with you?"
"I'm driving to D.C., I would hope he's with me," Ada said sharply, changing lanes and cutting off a man in a Honda who waved his fist angrily as he slammed on the brakes.
"Good. Pull over to the side of the highway."
"Not right now," she said.
"It wasn't a question," he growled.
She swerved over to the side of the road, putting on the car's emergency lights. She looked back into the handheld screen. "What was so urgent that I had to delay my mission, Wesker? I take it you didn't just want to see how I was doing, shoot the breeze as it were."
"There's been a mistake," he said, purposely ignoring her smart comment. "It appears the researchers made a mistake. The T-Veronica virus and the Plagas have some nasty side effects when put together in large doses."
"What?" Ada said, not comprehending the point.
"They don't make good neighbors," he stated simply. "They didn't catch it because previous experiments with the T-Virus were ineffectual and normal. However, the T-Veronica virus is Alexia Ashford's mutation. It's a little different. It forces the parasite out of the host's bloodstream as it matures."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that Steve Burnside is extraordinarily dangerous to us all in his current state. He's a time bomb waiting to explode. What is he doing now?"
Ada looked over to the passenger seat. Steve Burnside was awkwardly pressed against the window, slumped down into the leather seat with his legs on the dashboard. He seemed to be snoring. "Sleeping, I think." She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"Are you sure he's sleeping?" Wesker said.
"Yes. I mean, I think so. Why?"
"Because Tyrants don't sleep, Ada."
Note: First things first. Thanks for the feedback! I hope all of you are enjoying the story so far. It's about to have a few more plot-twists and more action intense story from here on out; something I hope you will all like.