Author's Note:
The beginning of the end for Billy… and Rebecca finally catches a break.
1996
"This mission could take up to and over a year." The commander in front of Billy and the rest of the team looked down at them all. "I expect you to stay strong. This is the African wilderness. It will be hot, miserable, and dangerous. You will keep a stiff upper lip, strong morale, and obey my orders."
Personally, Billy despised the idiot. Chet Michaels was a shitty commander as well as a cocky asshole. But he was a higher-up, and the leader of this mission, which Billy had volunteered for.
It wasn't a short mission, which was attractive. It wasn't a clean or particularly safe mission, which he accepted.
But he was going to have to learn self control around this dick.
He was in his full uniform, his survival pack as heavy as he could stand, and he was ready. They had been traveling in the helicopter for several hours now. It was getting hotter by the moment.
"According to information we've been given, there's a battle going on between two tribes, one of which is an important asset to the United States of America!" the man proclaimed in his thick, loud voice. He was the fucking stereotype for military men.
Billy's hair was freshly buzzed, and his long sleeved shirt covered up his tattoo. It would be rough: he really could die on this one. But he devoted his life to this. He wasn't going to pussy out now.
"We will be arriving at fourteen hundred hours, men. I expect you to be ready to go."
The drop off point was more than an hour away. Billy let himself drift into sleep, just resting, really, until Michaels blew the whistle. He was immediately alert, ready to go, and sweating like a fucking pig. Christ, it was humid here.
He jumped from the helicopter as it grazed the grassy earth and followed Michaels, jogging behind him at a steady pace. He had long learned breathing techniques and to pace himself. If you fucking ran, you'd be tired in five minutes. And tired could mean dead.
He jogged silently and swiftly, keeping his gun readied. His heart was pounding from the exertion, but other than that, he was fine. As of now, their location was unknown to enemies, and Billy sure as hell hoped it'd fucking stay that way.
Their outfits blended in with the jungle, which was good. A sniper'd be able to pick 'em all out though. The drop off point was nearly a hundred miles away. It could take months to cross the distance. In this jungle, about a mile a day was good progress. Then they'd have to strategize, complete their mission, return to the starting point, and go home. And that was if they were on schedule.
In Billy's experience, on schedule was a myth in this fucking business.
This would be a very silent journey as well. They were in foreign territory, and were allied with this kingdom's enemy. Straight out warfare would not come as a surprise. They didn't need fires, not in this climate, and their MREs would suffice for sustenance. Billy didn't particularly like the piece of shit food packages that they were given, but it was a hell of a lot better than going hungry.
The only thing Billy was worried about was water. They had mapped out several routes, as well as waterways. But depending on their luck, they could get lost or ambushed.
Billy went over these in his head. He thought about strategies that would be good to go over with the commander, as soon as they settled for the night. The night came quickly as they hiked along, and the instant the commander announced they'd stop for camp, Billy could almost hear the aching muscles of each of the men.
They didn't set up tents: the dense forest would protect them from weather, and it was better to blend in. Billy drank thirstily from his canteen and watched the men settle down.
This was not a mission for new recruits: all of the soldiers here were seasoned fighters, trained specifically for situations like this, where you had to wait and be patient and just try to fucking last through the ordeal.
Billy fell asleep almost immediately after the sun set. He was exhausted: plagued with nightmares of losing Anna, of being killed in battle, of the horrible memories from past missions.
He dreamt of the times where he had to shoot women and children to disable them, when he had to follow orders against his will, keeping his mouth shut even though he knew a better way, a fucking way that could save so many goddamn lives.
He woke up late.
He was the first one up. What the hell? They should've been up before dawn. Billy searched for whoever had been on guard.
Dick Litchfield was lying in a pool of blood, his throat slit.
Billy's mind raced ahead. Dick had likely been the one on guard. Either his assailant had been skilled, or the idiot had fallen asleep, which also made everyone else susceptible to danger. But they hadn't been harmed: which meant this was a warning. From who? Obviously the enemy was advanced enough to have a strategy like this, which was bad. Very fucking bad.
This was definitely the work of a mercenary or a spy. In fact, maybe they were being watched right now.
Billy knelt down towards Michaels and shook him awake. Chet was immediately alert. Billy pointed at the fallen soldier and watched as Chet's mind roamed ahead the same way Billy's had, until he reached the same conclusion. He nodded at Billy and they quietly woke the rest of the men.
Billy took Dick's dog tags. They'd have to leave the body, but the tags would be sent to his family.
Billy didn't feel any grief for the man he hadn't known: but he felt a strange melancholy. It had already begun. He could die. Nobody could care. He would have a funeral and Rosa would go. He had other family: but they were all far away, in other states, California and Oregon and even Maine. The Coens were scattered about: he'd never met most of them.
He suddenly regretted it.
Had Dick been close to his family? Did he have children? Did he have a wife, who he loved the way Billy loved Anna?
Billy hoped he didn't. He knew all too well the pain of a stranger telling you that those you loved, died. Up and fucking left you.
He slipped the tags into his pocket and followed Chet, jogging quietly, not bothering with any breakfast. This was a danger zone: they needed to get out, and they needed to get out now.
The density of the trees and shrubs made it difficult to move, so after about an hour, Chet decided a ten minute break to eat would be acceptable.
Billy dug into the MRE. It was better than going hungry. Chet wasn't a bad guy, just an idiot. But maybe Billy just wasn't giving him enough credit. Maybe, over time, Chet would prove himself to Billy.
The journey was long, and would be treacherous. If the trouble had started already, Billy'd wager most of them would be dead before this fucking mission was done. Well, shit, he figured maybe three of them would be left. Himself, Chet, and a lucky sonovabitch.
He felt the dog tags weigh down one of the myriad pockets in his pants. In his other pockets he held grenades of several different types, at least twenty cases of ammo, a secondary weapon, and three knives.
He also kept a knife in his boot, a long, vicious dagger that was there in case of close hand to hand combat. Expect the unexpected, Billy told himself.
Billy was dripping with sweat after two more hours, and pretty close to hallucinating. He looked up, trying to keep the sweat from his hairline out of his eyes, and saw a flash of red. Why the fuck would there be red in the middle of the green and brown jungle? He was nuts. He was really insane. Maybe he did have PTSD. Maybe Anna leaving was slowly making him crazy.
Or maybe he wasn't, and that flash had been real. An enemy? Definitely not an animal. But enemies didn't wear obnoxious red, didn't jump from branches like a fucking silent monkey. He decided that 'crazy' was the most probable answer. He'd come to terms with being cracked years ago, and now wasn't the time to change his mind about it.
Rebecca yawned and stretched out in bed. For almost a year, she'd done next to nothing, and it was absolutely heavenly. She read for enjoyment and leisure, at her own pace. She went to bed early and woke up late. Johnson nagged her to clean the house and buy groceries. She drove around with Claire, who'd finally managed to get her hands on a motorcycle, to Chris's dismay.
Chris had recently been dishonorably discharged from the Air Force. Rebecca knew Claire felt terrible about it. She had nothing to do with it, but she had known her brother's temper and impetuosity would get him into trouble eventually.
The phone rang and Rebecca sighed and got up. She answered groggily. "Hello?" she asked, stifling a yawn.
"Rebecca!" it was Claire. "Chris got a new job! He's a star now!"
"What's a star?" Rebecca asked curiously.
"Remember that corny old man we met in the parking lot that one time? The one who was like 'look at my picture hur hur'? Barry? Well he left the Air Force a little over a year ago, and he and this guy named Wesker and Chief Irons put together this thing called star!"
"That's awesome, but what's a star?" Rebecca asked curiously.
"Star is like… this super awesome police force thing. They're like the ninjas of the police force," Claire explained. "And they're just badass in general, and tougher. So far, Barry said there's himself, Chris, that Wesker guy, some lady named Jill, and someone named Brad. They start training next month and they're going to make the first team. Chris said if this is successful, they'll make another team. This one is called Alpha."
Alpha was the first letter of the Greek alphabet, Rebecca knew. "That's awesome, Claire!"
"And I wanna throw a party for him!" Claire finished eagerly. Rebecca laughed at her spontaneous energy. "I'm gonna invite all the people there, so they can get to know each other, and some of Chris' Air Force friends who he still talks too, and some people he knew from school, and some of our friends! You bring Jacob too, okay? I lost his number. Actually, I lost a lot of numbers. I only know yours by heart."
Rebecca laughed. The two were still best friends, despite the greater distance between them. Claire's motorcycle and Rebecca's car had shortened to distance, so it didn't matter. They were together whenever they could be. Except when Claire was at school, and Rebecca was home, doing glorious nothing.
Claire didn't begrudge her friend the relaxation time she deserved. She'd been privy to one of Rebecca's stressed out crying-fests the last week before graduation. But she had done it. She had graduated at the top of her class.
Umbrella had offered her a job, but Rebecca told them to wait until she turned twenty-one. She felt she needed time to herself, to unwind and figure out what she wanted to do with her life. and if she couldn't figure it out, she'd do what was expected of her and become a scientist for Umbrella.
"Alright, Claire," Rebecca laughed. "Sure. I'll track down the stars, and you get his Air Force buddies. I'll bring Jacob, and you bring any friends you have besides me. I, however, don't need to worry about that, being friendless."
Rebecca could almost hear Claire rolling her eyes. "Janet is your friend!" she argued.
"Janet is also in college, not as old as Chris, and not as young as us. I highly doubt she'd come, Claire," Rebecca explained. Janet had been one of the few who had befriended Rebecca in school. They had remained in touch, although Janet was twenty-one to Rebecca's sixteen.
Claire sighed. "You're impossible. Just go out more often, meet people! You met people at prom with Jacob, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but those are his friends, not mine. They only put up with me hanging around because they all know that Jacob's serious."
"Everybody knows how serious he is," Claire teased over the phone. "But to more important things, help me plan the party!"
"Alright. When is it?"
"Tomorrow!"
Rebecca burst out laughing at Claire's characteristic eagerness. "Sure. I'll go pick up some streamers and crap. What kind of party is it?"
"I dunno, I guess we'll do it outside. Do you want to pick up some burgers or wings so we can grill? This is a surprise for Chris, this is our chance, since he isn't home. He's doing something with the stars."
"I think it's really weird that your brother is a star. Does it stand for something?"
"Actually, yes! Stars is special tactics and rescue service. Chris has gone over it a million times so he won't forget."
Suddenly it made much more sense to Rebecca. S.T.A.R.S., not stars! "Oh! Okay. Sure, I can do that. I'll be over in about an hour then." Rebecca answered. She hung up and called Jacob.
"Hey, would you want to come to a barbeque at Claire's tomorrow?" she asked without preamble.
"Sure, what time?" he replied, seeming preoccupied.
"I actually don't know. She just called me right now. I'll call you from her house later and let you know."
"Sure, I'll come. See you then." The unspoken words were still there: Love you, bye.
She was a terrible person. Johnson reassured her that it wasn't her fault, that she was fine. She wasn't using him, or teasing him. But she couldn't help the guilt that filled her as she hung up.
She quickly scribbed a note to Johnson and left it on the counter, delighted to live with someone who cared. Since his retirement from the orphanage, he'd been working more closely with Umbrella, as a part time scientist, a path that Rebecca would likely follow.
She sighed. What did she want? She didn't know anything. Her fancy education was wasted. Sure, she was a genius, but was the point of it if she couldn't use it, if she didn't want too?
She got into the car and slowly drove to the store. She passed Emmy's and smiled. She and the Redfields had many memories there. It was also the spot of her ridiculous freak out a few years ago.
She bought the leanest burgers she could find, and decided to grab chicken wings and even ribs. Money wasn't really an object with Rebecca. She had more than she knew what to do with. She wasn't exactly someone who went shopping for anything very often, so it was always an odd experience to go out and get whatever she wanted or needed.
She paid at the register and stopped at the drugstore to pick up some colorful streamers. It was corny, but Rebecca loved them. They were so bright and pretty, reminding her of happy things like the fourth of July and birthday parties. Although, she hadn't really gone to many as a child and didn't really know what the experience was like.
She decided to grab cake mix as well. Maybe she and Claire could make cupcakes or something. Yum. Although Rebecca mostly ate healthy, she couldn't resist cake, in any form.
She settled down into the car and drove on to the Redfield home. It was a nice enough house, but the back yard was the best part. It was enormous, with a fancy grill that Claire and Rebecca had pooled their money to get Chris for his last birthday.
She parked the car and grabbed the bags, rushing into the house… when she saw Chris.
She shot Claire a look, and left the groceries outside the house, coming in empty-handed. "Hey, Chris," she greeted him nervously. "What's up? Claire told me you had work today. With S.T.A.R.S.?"
"Yup, it's this new task force only in Raccoon City! One of the members, Jill, actually moved to Raccoon City solely to join S.T.A.R.S.. It's mostly for military veterans so far. Or at least, Alpha team is. If we're successful, any other team could be newbies. They'd just need training first."
He was extremely enthusiastic. "That's great, Chris!" Rebecca said sincerely, nodding her head. "I'm glad you got such an awesome opportunity like this!"
"Are you okay, Rebecca?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You seem a little off today."
"Oh, I'm fine!" she waved a hand nervously. She was a terrible liar. Claire was giving her dirty looks from behind Chris' back. Rebecca wanted to give her a bewildered expression in return, but Chris would see, obviously, and he'd wonder what the hell was going on.
Good thing for them, Chris was somewhat oblivious. He was great at what he did, but in social situations, good old Chris was a big Neanderthal who couldn't notice something unless it came up and smacked him right in the face.
"Alright…" he answered uneasily. "Well, okay." He walked upstairs. The second he was out of earshot Rebecca rushed to get the bags and hid them, quietly as she could.
"What was that?" Claire hissed in her ear, watching the stairs.
"It was me being an awful liar," Rebecca replied in dismay. "Good thing for us, he wouldn't notice anything. It'll be a great surprise for him tomorrow. He deserves it. This really was a great idea, Claire." She flattered her friend.
Claire rolled her eyes and gave her an impish grin. "I know. I already called everyone. I finished the second he got home. It was a close call. I told him I was talking to you and told you to come over. He was probably confused by how you got here so quickly."
Rebecca grinned. "Magic?" she teased. "Look, I bought cake mix…"