7. Butterflies and Hurricanes

The last thing she remembered was hearing the sound of glass shattering. It had been a distinct, loud crack as the windshield prepared to break into thousands of shards. She remembered bracing and preparing for the worst, but the darkness had taken her before the window broke. In the darkness, she'd heard nothing. In the darkness, Ada Wong had finally been at peace.

Slowly she came to, groaning as she opened her eyes. Her head howled and her bones shrieked in pain. Ada's hands immediately went to the seatbelt around her waist and fumbled with it. With a great effort on her behalf, there was finally a loud click. Now that she was able to move, she turned to work on the door, but had no luck there. The tree she'd veered into had crushed the driver's side of the vehicle and both the door and the handle were completely smashed; it was a miracle she had not been as well.

She looked for another means of escape, and saw the passenger door had been torn off. It looked like the work of Steve Burnside. He'd lived through the accident apparently. Whether or not this was a good thing remained to be decided. Her radio was lying outside of the car, flung from the car on impact. Still in immense pain, she cautiously eased herself out to the passenger's seat. Draping her legs over the side, she sat there for several minutes, inspecting her wounds.

They were mostly superficial; cuts and bruises of no consequence. A large slash on her leg was bleeding profusely, but upon further examination, it proved that it wasn't deep enough to be a worry. She was going to be alright.

Satisfied with her self-prognosis, she got up and picked up the radio off the wet ground. The screen was cracked and speckled with raindrops, but the radio worked otherwise. Clicking a few buttons, she sent a transmission to Wesker. She wasn't surprised when he didn't pick up. She'd figured he had probably already left for D.C. to neutralize the situation. She tapped through the device and found Steve Burnside's location via satellite. He hadn't pulled out the tracking chip yet, and that was good news. However, he was near Leon Kennedy's apartment and had traveled far; much farther than she had expected. This was bad news. There was a pang of worry as she thought about Leon. There was little doubt in her mind he was after Claire Redfield in his current state and she knew Leon would try to protect Claire. She hoped he wouldn't do anything foolish.

Sighing, she realized the entirety of the monumental task set before her. She had to find and subdue him before he exposed the entire city to the Plagas and the T-Veronica virus.

She walked over to the trunk of the car. It was already popped from the accident and rain was pouring in. The folder debriefing her mission was soaked and the ink had run, rendering it useless. It already was useless, however, and the loss not too great. She remembered right before the crash, Wesker told her to abort the mission. It had been a relief. The new mission she was assigned to was one of containment. The publicity of a parasitical outbreak and a Tyrant on the streets of the nation's capital was not something Umbrella needed the public to see. According to Wesker, the publicity would be fatal.

Ada spotted what she had been looking for in the back of the trunk. It was a stainless steel briefcase and she grabbed it, popping it open to check its contents. There was an antidote to Plagas in it and a fully loaded Desert Eagle magnum by its side with several rounds. She resealed the case and picked it up then started to head back to the road. As she walked away, she hit a button on the handheld device and sent the remainders of the car exploding into a fiery wreck.

Her leg was stiff and sore. She felt miserable walking in a storm at three in the morning wearing heels and a thin dress. No one stopped for her as they drove by and traffic was light. It was over ten miles to the city and she could feel the time ticking. By now, Steve had probably been spotted by some of the city's populace. There'd probably already been a few police calls reporting a giant green monster to the station. She laughed dryly, thinking about the police's response to such a report.

Another car drove by, kicking up muddy water as it passed. It splashed all over Ada and she yelled as the driver continued on, unnoticing. Sighing, she kept on walking on the shoulder of the highway. There were times she really hated her job and this was one of them. She shivered violently and miserably, her thoughts drifting back to Leon's safety as they were prone to do when she had nothing immediate to do. Try as she might to not care, a part of her did.

She had just decided she was going to have to hoof it all the way to the gas station that was miles away when a beat-up Ford Taurus pulled up behind her and honked loudly then revved its engine. The headlights illuminated her drenched frame, the dress clinging to all the right parts and becoming transparent when wet. There was another honk and a man's jeer.

"I heard you the first time," she muttered under her breath.

She did a one-eighty and walked over to the passenger's window, tapping it lightly. It was promptly rolled down. Before leaning into it, Ada looked up and down the road to check for oncoming traffic, but there was none and so she set the briefcase down on the ground. She unlatched it as she leaned in, surveying the scene. The driver was a fat, middle-aged man with thinning hair. More importantly, he was alone. "Hey beautiful," he said. His eyes went up and down her body, ogling her chest in particular. Ada felt like a piece of meat, but played along, coyly leaning a little too far and offering him a better view of her chest as her hand wrapped around the magnum held just out of his sight. "What you doing out here so late looking like this? I don't see no dinner party out here," he said.

"I got a flat tire." She puckered her lower lip and pulled away from the window, her arm with the gun moving to hide behind her back.

The man was still staring at her body predatorily. His grip on the steering wheel relaxed and he offered a creepy grin which she thought made him look a little like a rodent. "Life's a bitch."

"So fuck it?" She smiled suggestively, giving him a little wink.

"I like the way you think," he said.

"You do?" This was so easy it was like taking candy from a baby. She clicked the safety off her gun and the rain drowned it out. "Do you also think you can help me?"

"I'll help you if you help me, little lady." His smile turned lecherous and the implication of his words was not lost on Ada Wong.

She smiled widely in response then opened the door. Sitting down, she felt his hands on her immediately. She could smell whiskey on his breath as he panted. As he leaned in to put his lips on hers, she put the magnum to the back of his head and used her free arm to push him back.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, uncomprehending. "I'm afraid I changed my mind," she said. "I don't really want to help you anymore."

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm your worst nightmare. Now get out of the car." He backed away. "Keep your hands up where I can see them. Slowly open the door. Slowly move out of the car." She looked at his face as he stared out of her, paused, his mouth openr. He wasn't smiling anymore and instead of a rat, he looked like a pig; a little fat piggy. Correction, a little fat dead piggy. She squeezed the trigger and shot him pointblank as he stood up, out of the car, and then crawled over to the driver's seat where she shut the door.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't have you telling anyone you felt me up," she said without a trace of sincerity. "I have my reputation to think of."

As much as Ada didn't like killing anyone, let alone a civilian, she had ultimately been desensitized to it; she had no qualms and would lose little sleep over this murder. It was just another death in the eyes of a woman who had seen many. She put on the seatbelt and took off, heading into the city, her mind back on Steve Burnside and her new mission.

Note: Sorry if it's a little harsh that Ada killed a man. It's just something I could see Ada doing. If she leaves his body there, someone finds it and reports it as a murder. The gun is unmarked and the car will be disposed of. They'll never find her. If she leaves him alive, there's potential for him bringing trouble to her; a police search for her within the coming hours. Similarly, she has to hurry and get to D.C.--she couldn't take the time to dispose of it properly, really. Anyway, that's my rationale. I don't think it makes Ada a bad person, either. I just think it shows her darker side.