Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, or any of it's characters. I'm just a humble fan who's waiting impatiently for RE5(get on it, Capcom!).
Synopsis: I was playing REmake, and started wondering just what it had to be like for the characters between games. I mean, beyond the files and short endings. Not to mention, why they killed off some potentially decent characters so quickly. So, I did a little marathon with the main games, and this is what I came up with. This is what happens when I get bored. So, here goes nothing. . .
Author's Note: I've tried to stay true to the RE timeline, but I've found so many contradictions from different sources that I can't be sure I got it right. So, if I've made any mistakes, I apologize.
Chapter Eight
Chris stood frozen in the hangar entrance way, unable to move as he watched the small Cessna touch down. Barry had finally contacted them via radio this morning, telling him that he and Jill already in France, and that they would be there shortly. He had also mentioned that they had another survivor with them. He hadn't elaborated, except to say that it wasn't Brad.
A part of Chris mourned for yet another fallen comrade, even as his heart rejoiced. Jill had survived. He hadn't doomed her to death when he had deserted her so selfishly. She was alive and well and she was here.
Rebecca danced excitedly beside him, unable to remain still as she watched the hatch open. She flashed him a sunny smile that he couldn't help but return before her gaze returned to the plane. Usually, her youthful exuberance was infectious, but right now, Chris found that he couldn't share in her enthusiasm.
He knew that there was a real chance that Jill wouldn't be happy to see him. With the way that he had left things between them, she might still be very angry with him. She could get off that plane, march right up to him, and slug him one. She could freeze him with coldness, as he had seen her do with others who had disappointed her. He simply didn't know what to expect and, he was ashamed to admit, he was scared.
What he do if she turned away from him? Chris cried silently. The last two months without her had been sheer hell. He and Rebecca had become friends, but no one could replace the special place that Jill Valentine had always held in his life. What would he do if she left S.T.A.R.S. because of her anger with him?
The Cessna finally crawled to a stop, it's propellers winding to a stop, and it ceased to matter. Chris found himself straightening, his eyes glued to the side door as it opened. A young man in combat fatigues lowered the small set of stairs and descended them. He turned back to the plane, and Chris' breath came in sharply as hatred flooded him.
Umbrella!
The colorful logo mocked him from the back of the stranger's survival vest, and Chris' hands clenched into fists at his side. What the hell had Barry been thinking, bringing an Umbrella agent here?! Didn't he realize just how precarious they're position was? Umbrella's main headquarters was in this very same city, for God's sake! How could he take such a risk with their safety?!
Rebecca saw the loathing on her commander's normally kind features and swallowed hard. "Chris?" she questioned hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
Chris glanced down at her and managed a tight smile. "I'm fine," he assured her, doing his best to think past his anger. The man might have scavenged the vest during his race through Raccoon, he told himself quickly. Just because he had an Umbrella logo on his vest didn't mean that he was a part of their twisted machine. The older man would have a sound, logical explanation for this stranger's presence. Barry Burton would never do anything to put his team in peril. If nothing else, Chris was sure of that.
Jill appeared at the top of the steps, Barry behind her, and Chris' eyes widened dramatically. A pale blue tube-top hugged the generous curves of her breasts, while a charcoal-back skirt clung to the long lines of her legs. Yes, she was dirty and obviously exhausted, but she was also damned beautiful.
Good God, he asked himself with a rush of excitement, where had she gotten those clothes?! In the five years he'd known her, he had never seen Jill Valentine in anything so feminine. Suddenly, he was grateful for that. He would never have been able to hide his feelings for as long as he had if she had!
Rebecca cast him one final glance, smiling at his dazed expression, before sprinting across the runway. She threw her arms around Barry, who patted her awkwardly on the back, then a very embarrassed Jill. She shook hands with the stranger, who kissed the back of her hand as he smiled charmingly.
Chris waited breathlessly as Jill finally turned his way. Her haunting gaze locked on his, and even from here, he could see the turmoil in her lovely blue-gray eyes. She smiled hesitantly, waiting until he returned it to walk towards him. Chris remained rooted in place, still unable to move, as the Latino man with the too-pretty features grabbed her arm. She shook him off, her expression furious, as he narrowed flashing brown eyes on her.
A sick feeling unfurled in the pit of Chris' stomach. "Brown eyes," he muttered as he schooled his features to blandness. "It figures."
Well, now he knew, he thought painfully. Jill had found someone else. No, she wouldn't be angry with him any longer. She would once again relegate him to the role of best friend, and ask him to be nice to the new man in her life. And just like before, he would do it, if for no other reason than to make Jill Valentine happy.
Just like old times, he thought with a cynicism that shocked even him. That was when he realized just how much he had hoped his words had reached her that last night in Raccoon. He'd thought that he would be able to accept any decision she might make, no matter how painful, so long as she remained a part of his life.
He had been wrong.
Now, he knew that they could never go back to the way things had been. His disappointment was too keen, and he might never be able to forgive her for not being able to love him. Logically, he knew that you couldn't make someone love you. They either felt it or they didn't. Emotionally, his heart had taken a beating one time too many. Yes, he would do everything he could to make her new lover feel welcome, but he would never again let her so close that he couldn't defend himself. They would be friends and teammates, but never best friends.
Chris mourned the loss that would forever alter his life as he finally stirred himself from his motionless vigil. He shook himself and forced his unwilling feet to move, every step bringing him closer to the woman he loved, and yet another hadnsome, dark-eyed rival. He nearly laughed aloud at the notion, but the sound would have been all too bitter. This man wasn't a rival. That would intimate that he stood a chance with Jill Valentine, and that had never been the case.
Jill swallowed hard as Chris came to a stop before her, his beloved midnight eyes more guarded than she had ever seen them. He didn't look happy to see her, and her heart sunk as she realized that her fears hadn't been groundless. He was still angry with her, so much so that he was hiding his feelings behind an emotionless mask. Instead of the warm welcome she had been praying for, he merely stood before her, silent as he waited for her to make the first move.
She thrust her disappointment aside and stepped forward, putting her arms around him and holding him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotions she couldn't suppress. "I'm so damned sorry, Chris."
"Don't be." His voice was curiously flat as his arms finally wound around her. He squeezed her once then loosened his hold. "It's enough that you're alive, Jill."
He began to step away and she tightened her own hold, bewildered by his behavior. No matter how angry he had been with her in the past, he had never rejected her touch. "No, it's not," she returned urgently. "Chris, please, I--"
"Don't." Chris reached behind him and gently pulled her hands away. He took another step back, forcing a smile to his lips. Her unforgettable eyes glimmered with moisture, and he couldn't conceal the shudder that ripped through him in response. "It really doesn't matter, Jill. You survived. That's what's important. Now, introduce me to your friend."
Jill gazed at him through a veil of unshed tears before nodding once. She lowered her gaze and blinked furiously, clearing her throat once. "This is Carlos Olivera," she said, her voice huskier than normal. "Carlos, this is Alpha Team's captain, Chris Redfield."
Carlos glared at the cold-eyed gringo who had brought tears to Jill's eyes. "Captain," he all but sneered.
"Mr. Olivera," Chris returned evenly. God, he was even younger than he'd looked at first glance! He extended his hand and waited patiently for the handsome young swain to take it. "We don't have much at the moment, but you're welcome to what little we do have."
Carlos looked down at the proffered hand with obvious distaste but took it none-the-less. "Thank you," he said grudgingly, unable to less in the face of the other man's generosity. "You're too kind."
Chris laughed shortly and stepped away, his gaze moving to Barry. "Thank you," he said simply, ignoring the other man's outstretched hand and embracing him.
"Chris. . ." Barry frowned, his gaze moving from Jill's down-turned head to Carlos' hostile expression. He finally sighed and patted the younger man on the back. "I did the best that I could, Chris. I'm sorry, that I couldn't get Brad out, too."
"So am I, Barry." Chris pulled back and smiled crookedly. "Come inside. You must be exhausted. We've still got some canned stuff and the hot plate. You should eat before you try to sleep."
"What about my report?" the older man asked with surprise. "I thought you'd want to hear it?"
Chris shook his head negatively. "They'll be time enough for that, later. For now, just come inside and rest."
Barry nodded and scratched his red-gold beard. He hadn't slept in nearly ninety-six hours, and he was damned tired. "Sounds good to me, Chris."
The younger man clapped him on the shoulder and walked away, not looking back to see if they followed. Rebecca's big green eyes darted back and forth between the three before she followed her commander. Poor Chris, she thought sympathetically. She could only imagine how hurt he was right now. He'd loved Jill for so long, and she had brought a new boyfriend with her.
If Billy had come to her with another woman in tow, she wouldn't have been nearly so calm, she thought with a touch of anger. She would claw the woman's eyes out, then shoot her for good measure! She didn't know how Chris could have stood there and shaken hands with the very man who had stolen the woman he loved. He was a lot nicer than she was, that was for sure!
Barry set a hand on Jill's shoulder, not quite sure what to say. He'd gotten the impression that Olivera was just a friend, but Chris certainly hadn't seen it that way. "Come on," he said at length. "Let's get something to eat."
Jill only nodded, his light brown hair sliding forward to hide her face. "You go on ahead, Barry. I want to talk to Carlos for a minute."
He sighed again and removed his hand. "Sure thing, Jilly. Just don't take too long, alright?"
"I won't." Jill waited until he was well out of earshot to turn on Carlos with a livid expression. "How dare you treat Chris like that! What do you think you're doing, Carlos?"
"Me?" Carlos returned incredulously. "What about him? You tell me that you're involved with this guy, and he treats you like that?!"
"It's none of your concern," she hissed, hiding her own hurt at Chris' all too obvious rejection. "Chris is in charge here, Carlos. If you keep acting like this, he won't let you stay with S.T.A.R.S.. Is that what you want?"
"Why do you want to stay, Jill?" He shook his dark head with obvious bewilderment. "This guy treats you like shit, and you're still loyal to him? What about me?"
"Damn it!" Jill rubbed her forehead a headache began to form behind her eyes. She did not need this right now. "Carlos, I consider you a friend," she said, emphasizing the word in an attempt to reach him. "Chris and I may not be getting along right now, but that doesn't change the situation."
"The hell it doesn't." Carlos crossed his arms over his chest. "This guy can't possibly make you happy, Jill. I can," he added angrily.
She shook her head swiftly. "I've known you for four days, Carlos. I've know Chris for five years. If you truly want me to be happy, you'll back off!"
"I do want you to be happy, Jill," he murmured in a small voice. "I just want you to be happy with me."
"Oh, Carlos." Jill sighed heavily, placing a hand on his arm. Sometimes, she forgot how young he actually was. "I'm sorry, but I love Chris. He makes me happy. If you can't accept that, you'll have to leave. We can't afford this kind of dissention in our ranks. Especially not now, with Umbrella dogging our every move," she added for good measure.
Carlos looked away, knowing that she was right. Her gringo might be a jerk, but he was in charge. And she loves him, he reminded himself glumly. Someday, that might change, but for now, he had no choice but to accept it.
"Fine," he said at length. "I'll apologize to El Capitan. Alright?"
Jill studied him for a long moment, gauging his sincerity. Relief finally filled as she realized that--although he was far from happy about it--he was being sincere. "Thank you, Carlos."
"Yeah, yeah." Carlos echoed her sigh before dredging up a smile. "So, why do I think my wallet is going to regret my decision to join S.T.A.R.S.?"
She cast a wry glance at the old hangar. "I know we're cash-poor now, but we'll find a way to work that out. I'm sure the American government has set something up for the Raccoon City survivors."
"I've got a little money saved up," he said, shrugging at her surprised expression. "I knew that I'd find a way out of the U.B.C.S. someday, so I set up an offshore account. Put seventy percent of my paychecks in it."
Jill shook her head even as she smiled. "Thanks, Carlos, but I couldn't let you do that."
"Hey, I offered to do it. Besides," he added slyly, "I'm part of the team now, right? I've got a vested interest in keeping S.T.A.R.S. up and running."
She laughed then, grateful that he was taking her decision so well. "I can see that we're going to need a separate facility just for that ego of yours, Carlos."
"You know, I'd be insulted, if that weren't true." His eyes locked on her behind as she began to walk away. "You've got a great ass, Jill."
She rolled her eyes as she entered the hangar. "Give it a rest, Olivera."
His eyes lingered on her behind as she walked. "I don't know, Jill. I'm kind of fond of your--"
"Carlos!"
"So, what's the story with Rebecca?" he asked in a hasty change of subject. "Is she single, or what?"
"Oh, give me a break," she muttered under her breath. He'd sure recovered fast, she thought with exasperation. Aloud, she merely said, "Rebecca's got a boyfriend back in the States, Carlos."
"But he's not here now, si?"
"Uh, no. He's not." Jill climbed the small staircase, chagrined as a pang of nervousness hit her. She pushed it aside and concentrated on trying to keep Carlos' flirting in an acceptable range. "Rebecca's. . .innocent, Carlos. I rather you didn't--"
"She's pero?!" he asked, aghast. "Sorry, Jill. Don't worry. I'll leave her alone."
"Good." She had no way of knowing whether Rebecca was 'pure' or not, but if it kept Carlos from pulling out the big guns, the deception was worth it. Rebecca was in love with a man accused of multiple murders. He'd been Special Ops. Innocent or not, the last thing she wanted was Billy Coen showing up and going after the younger man.
She entered the office to find Chris, Barry, and Rebecca crouched around the aforementioned hotplate, a bowl in each hand. Chris was warming up what looked like a can of soup, a box of crackers on the floor beside him. Like he'd said, it wasn't much, but it was more than she'd had in the last four days.
Three bedrolls were laid out, and she smiled as she spied Chris' trusty gold lighter lying on one of them, a pack of cigarettes beside it. She wasn't going to nag at him for going back to the habit. With all the stress of the last few months, she was just grateful it wasn't a bottle of scotch.
She didn't speak, she merely marched over to his bedroll and sat down. Chris frowned at her actions, and she raised one eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest defianctly. His frown darkened briefly as he looked down, and she hid a smile. She'd confused him. Good, she thought without sympathy. If he thought he could avoid talking to her, he had another thing coming. They were going to work this thing out, whether he wanted to or not.
Carlos glanced around the small office, his gaze lingering on Jill as she sat down. He considered joining her, until a scowl from her boyfriend convinced him that it would be healthier if he didn't. He finally took a seat beside the door, patting his waist pack reassuringly. He didn't feel comfortable without his M-16 in his hands, but he was pretty sure his new teammates wouldn't appreciate it if he pulled it out for no good reason. They weren't quite paranoid enough--yet.
That would change, he thought with a mental shrug. Once they realized just how ruthless Umbrella really was, they wouldn't go to the bathroom unarmed. They'd been lucky so far. He'd heard the rumors before being sent to Raccoon City. Umbrella had so many outbreaks being reported in different parts of the world that their Special Forces were hard-pressed to cover them all. As soon as that changed, S.T.A.R.S. would become top priority. Nicholai's actions in Raccoon City had shown him that.
Carlos frowned at the reminder. After a tense, lengthy round of negotiations, Nicholai had flown out of Raccoon City in a helicopter. Barry had picked them up soon after that, and he'd put his former commander's treacherous behavior out of his mind. Now, he was worried that Nicholai might come after them. Nemesis hadn't been able to track them as well as the Russian, but it hadn't been human either. Nicholai knew him, knew his habits, and he'd obviously done research on S.T.A.R.S.. It wouldn't be too hard to track them, especially since Barry had mentioned using this airfield before. They needed to find another place to hide, one that S.T.A.R.S. hadn't been to before. He just had to convince Captain Redfield of it.
He winced at the thought. He certainly hadn't endeared himself to his new commander with his behavior outside. He'd been jealous and angry when confronted with Jill's lover, and he hadn't reacted well. He still loved Jill, but he wanted a place in Alpha Team more than he wanted to do her. There were plenty of women out there, but not so many places for a man with a past like his. If he didn't make nice, he might not have a place in S.T.A.R.S., and he desperately wanted that.
"Captain Redfield?"
Chris' head came up automatically at the call. He fought to keep the jealously out of his expression as he nodded. "What is it?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"I want to apologize for my earlier behavior, sir."
He knew his surprise showed as he nodded slowly. "Apology accepted, Mr. Olivera."
Carlos smiled, relieved. "It's Carlos, El Capitan."
Chris managed a small half-smile in return. "Then, call me Chris."
"Where's the fun in that, amigo?"
He shot a startled look at Jill, who rolled her eyes and shrugged. "You'll get used to him, Chris. I did."
"Okay," he said slowly. He glanced down at the soup that was just starting to boil and lifted the pan from the flame. "Are you hungry, Carlos?"
"Si, El Capitan." Carlos grinned as the other man frowned again, waiting until he had served the soup to take his bowl. "Gracias, Chris."
"You're welcome," Chris mumbled, eyeing him warily. The younger man sat back down and quickly tore into the soup, despite the fact that it was hot. He glanced down at the crackers, then shrugged to himself. Maybe, Jill would want them. "What about you, Jill? Are you hungry?"
"Starved," Jill admitted ruefully. "There wasn't much time for eating in Raccoon."
"Or anything else," Carlos quipped with a winning smile.
"In your dreams, buster," she shot right back.
He chuckled and downed the last of his soup. "You're still a tough one, chica."
Jill snorted. "You'll live, Olivera."
He merely grinned at her in response, and she waved him away. She started to rise, and suddenly Chris was before her, his expression searching as he gave her a bowl. "Here," he said, handing her the crackers. "Eat as much as you can hold. If you want more, I'll make it for you. Okay?"
"Thanks, Chris." She accepted the bowl and filled it with crackers. "You're not eating?"
He dropped into a crouch before her. "No, Rebecca and I ate earlier."
"Then, sit with me," she invited softly.
Chris hesitated before moving to join her. He put the cigarette pack and the lighter into the waist pack he was never without and sat beside her. He leaned back against the wall and simply watched her eat. She did it as she did everything else, with quick, graceful movements. He was grateful that she wasn't angry at him, and wondered if--maybe--he'd been wrong about her and Olivera.
Their interaction suggested that they were close, but they acted like. . .Like the two of them always had, Chris realized with a start. They treated one another as friends, not a couple that had been intimate. He had no doubt that Carlos was interested in Jill. He hadn't bothered to hide it, and his earlier hostility had proven it. Still, Jill didn't seem to return the sentiment.
Maybe, he hadn't lost her completely, Chris thought with an edge of desperation. Maybe, she wasn't angry with him because she'd forgiven him for deserting her so callously. "Jill--" he broke off, unsure what to say to the woman he'd loved for so long.
"Hey," she said, her voice very soft, "it's okay, Chris. We'll work it out, right?"
Her heard the uncharacteristic uncertainty in her husky voice and nodded emphatically. "That's what I want, Jill."
"It's what I want, too, Chris."
Jill inched closer and set her head on his shoulder, as she'd done countless times before. There was only the slightest hesitation before his arm encircled her shoulders, keeping her close to him. She felt his lips brush over her hair and nearly wept with relief. She hadn't lost him, as she had feared. She didn't know what was bothering him, but it didn't really matter. Whatever it was, they would work their way through it. After all, they were family.
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Albert Wesker glanced around his new laboratory with a small, satisfied smile. The Agency had been as good as their word, and had given him his own testing facility as a reward for the combat data he'd brought them when he'd joined the organization. He had carte blanche too do whatever he pleased, so long as he did nothing that would have a negative effect on his new employers.
Not bad for a scientist that hadn't been able to keep up with William Birkin, boy-genius, he thought, pleased by his present circumstances. He only answered to the president of The Agency. Unlike Umbrella, there would be no hoops to jump through, no ladder to climb. He wasn't the at the top of the food chain--he was the food chain. He had hundreds of scientists and laborers working diligently beneath him, fully prepared to help make his every dream a reality. And he had an incredibly fertile imagination.
Yes, he was doing well, despite the fiasco at the Spenser Mansion. Wesker frowned at the reminder. He had convinced The Agency that his 'death' had been planned, that it was the only way he could escape Umbrella's admittedly long reach. Still, it galled him that his little 'piggies', his elite, hand-picked S.T.A.R.S. units, had managed to foil his plans so easily. Especially, Chris Redfield.
Rage surged through him, white-hot in its intensity, and he quickly tamped it down. He would allow nothing to ruin this moment, not even that sanctimonious soldier who had cost him everything--including his life. No, Chris and the remaining members of S.T.A.R.S. were currently being hunted by Umbrella. Provided they survived that, there would plenty of time for him to take his revenge in the future.
Perhaps, he would start with Jill Valentine. Not only did he have a grudge against Jill for her part in the mansion debacle, but Chris had been 'in love' with the woman for as long as he'd known him. He could only imagine how losing her would affect the other man, especially since it was he who would be taking her life.
Then again, there was always the sister, Albert reminded himself as his smile grew. While he had never met the younger Redfield, he had heard Chris, Jill, and Barry talk about her quite often. A beautiful young spitfire, from all accounts, and the apple of her big brother's eye. That would be a devastating loss, surely.
As for Barry Burton and Rebecca Chambers, Wesker wasn't much worried about them. Barry's family made him a liability, and Rebecca was a mere child. Without Chris' help, he was sure she never would have survived the Spenser Mansion. After all, she would have died in the Arkham Training Facility if not for that fugitive, Billy Coen.
Barry had moved his family to Canada, thinking that they would be safe, because Umbrella had no holdings there. Unbeknownst to him, The Agency did. Eventually, Barry would also pay for thwarting him, but in the meantime. . .
He glanced at two large sensory deprivation tanks, which dominated the large room. As soon as the facility was ready, he had two very special specimens in mind for them. Alexia Ashford, for one. Poor William's child-genius rival. She hadn't died in a laboratory accident as reported. No, she had injected herself with the T-Veronica virus, and had put herself in suspended animation until the process was complete. She was protected only by that idiot brother of hers, and Alfred Ashford wouldn't be a problem. Alexia, however, would be his greatest acquisition, and ultimately, his greatest achievement. Of that, he was certain.
The second tube was for a younger, less certain subject. He had no proof that there was anything 'special' about the young girl, yet he had known her father well. William had been nothing if not dedicated to his work, and Annette had been the same. When they had decided to have a child, he personally hadn't understood the decision. But after reading some of William's notes in Raccoon City, he had his suspicions. . .
Soon enough, little Sherry would be his, and he would be able to indulge his curiosity. But not quite yet. First, he had to fill this facility with more than employees and equipment. He needed to create more samples of the Tyrant Virus, as well as William's G-Virus. He was considering including the Progenitor virus as well, providing that he could remember enough of old man Marcus' work to reproduce it.
He also had to reign Ada in, Wesker thought with a long-suffering sigh. She was imminently important to his plans, although she had no way of knowing that. Not her mutation, which could hardly even be considered such, but her skills and contacts would go a long way towards smoothing his future path for him.
It still vexed him that the President hadn't given Ada to him. He'd been given anything and everything else he'd asked for, but not her. She was considered too valuable an asset to the organization, despite the fact that she was somewhat of a wild-card. They simply weren't willing to trust him with her, despite all he had already given him.
Ada was a field operative with a great amount of freedom, more than he had ever been given while with Umbrella. Wesker wondered briefly just how she had managed that, then shrugged the thought aside. It really didn't matter how she came to occupy her current position. Occupy it she did, and he had to find a way to work around The Agency, so that he could use his greatest asset as he saw fit.
He had considered going after that young policeman, Leon Kennedy, but the time wasn't quite right for that. The American government had been keeping an eye on the young man, and it wouldn't do at all to be caught alive and well by them. No, he would have his chance when he retrieved Sherry. Until then, it was hands-off.
Wesker glanced at the young, eager boy who entered the room. Another budding boy-genius, though not nearly as brilliant as William had been. Still, the boy--who's name totally escaped him--was yet another tool for him to use and discard as he saw fit. Yes, he was going to enjoy his new-found power, both within The Agency and without.
He was going to be unstoppable.
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Hunk ran through the rain-soaked streets of Hartsford, his figure a dark blur as he ran from his pursuers. A large crowd began to pour out of a movie theater up head and he cursed soundly. The last thing he needed was any witnesses! He ducked into an alley, his feet splashing through a series of puddles as he ran. He saw a darkened doorway and stepped into it, pressing his back flat against it. He would appear to be a part of the building to any passerby's, casual or otherwise. And right now, it was the 'otherwise' that he was worried about.
He had bought casual clothes back in Larsen, hoping to blend in with the local population as he searched for his brother. He'd made up a sad tale about being separated from his younger brother during the 'nuclear reactor leak', but so far he hadn't made any progress. He didn't think Billy was here, so he'd planned on finishing his search tomorrow and moving on. The U.S.F.U. team had caught up to him only minutes ago, taking him completely by surprise. He'd expected Umbrella to move a little faster to neutralize him, and he'd let himself be lured into a false sense of security when they'd failed to make an appearance.
Which was why he was hiding here in the shadows, waiting for the merc unit to make a mistake, Hunk thought with disgust. He should have known that hiding wouldn't that easy. No matter what he wore, he was a dangerous man, and others could sense that. He probably should have been a little more circumspect in his search, but desperation had been fueling him. It still was.
He watched the crowd mill around aimlessly, obviously in no hurry to leave the area, and took a chance. He quickly stripped down to nothing, trading the street clothes for his U.S.F.U. combat uniform. He kept his gaze on the end of the alley has he geared up, but no one was paying attention to him. He shoved the civvies back into his waist pack, pulled out his rifle, and attached a custom-made suppressor. He had the feeling he'd need it.
Umbrella had obviously decided to make their move against all those they considered a threat, and Hunk hoped to God that Billy was alright. Not to mention, Rebecca Chambers. She and her captain had better be taking care of themselves, or it wouldn't matter even if Billy had survived. That kid had set all of his hopes on that girl. Hunk didn't believe he would survive losing her, and that would just about kill him.
He would to kill the assholes following him, finish searching Hartfort as quickly as he could, and move the fuck on. He had to find Billy and get him to France, before everything just plain went to shit. And after everything that happened recently, he knew just how fast that could happen.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, "I don't have time for this shit."
Hunk moved his head with the slightest of motions, his eyes searching the alley's entrance through the two orbs in his combat helmet. The pedestrians were finally dispersing, which meant that he wouldn't be alone for long. Which was just fine with him, he thought nastily. He wasn't interested in information or negotiations. He just wanted these guys dead.
Personally, he was surprised that any of the Umbrella Special Forces Units' had been stupid enough to take this assignment. Mr. Death was the deadliest weapon that Umbrella had had in their arsenal, and everybody knew it. Why these guys were so eager to commit suicide was something he didn't understand.
Sure, a lot of them hated his guts, but that was personal, and they had no business letting that effect their professionalism. He'd learned a long time ago never to mix business and pleasure, no matter how much you might be tempted to. Which was why he'd always been so careful in his dealings with Ada, he reminded himself with a grin. Only for her had he broken that rule. She had saved his ass instead of leaving him to die the first time they'd crossed paths, and eventually, he had come to trust her.
Oh, not completely, Hunk thought hastily. He wasn't that stupid. But he'd trusted her enough to leave Billy in her care, even if he'd probably have to give her his first-born child in return. She was a hard woman, and she always looked out for number one, but she had yet to betray him. That alone made her trustworthy in his book.
And Billy trusted her. That made all the difference in the world. Billy wasn't as naïve as she seemed to believe. Yes, he trusted to easily, but never completely. Like him, Billy had learned his lessons the hard way. In short, his kid brother was a tough bastard.
Four dark-clad figures appeared in the alley way entrance, and Hunk nearly laughed aloud. They'd only sent four of these bastards after him?! he asked himself incredulously. Boy, had Umbrella fucked this one up!
Hunk waited patiently as the four men in combat gear made their way down the alley. He watched one make gestures towards the others, and two of them raced right past him, oblivious as they covered the other end of the alley. The two that were left fanned out, their silenced guns held before them as they checked every box, looked behind all three dumpsters, and checked every door. They were thorough as only seasoned soldiers could be, and he almost regretted that they had to die.
Almost, he thought as they approached the doorway where he stood, still concealed. Hunk's entire body tensed in anticipation, and he found that he was eager to be back in action, especially since he was working for himself now. These guys were the last barrier separating him from his brother. Once he killed these guys, it would make Umbrella hesitate before sending another unit in. That would--hopefully--buy him the time that he needed to find Billy and get the hell out of Dodge.
One of the men stepped closer, his hand slowly coming up, and the other made the mistake of falling into step behind him. Hunk rolled his eyes, brought the rifle up, and shot them both through the head. The bodies dropped to the pavement even as he leapt over them, taking cover behind one of the dumpsters. Luckily, the assholes he'd just killed had pulled this one away from the wall, setting it at a slight angle. It was all the advantage he needed.
He heard shouts, and then the remaining two mercenaries were running towards their fallen comrades. One knelt beside them, checking for a pulse, as the other scanned the alley with his weapon. Hunk smiled coldly and took careful aim, zooming in on the standing soldier's helmet. He pulled the trigger, smiling as the dead man landed on his compatriot as he fell.
The other man wasted no time in shoving his fallen teammate off of him, but it was too late. He was rising when Hunk pulled the trigger one last time. The last merc died instantly, without a shot fired, and Hunk nodded to himself. As always, Death was the only survivor. This time, it was fitting.
Hunk rose to his feet and checked either end of the alley. No one had come stumbling across them, for which he was infinitely grateful. For some reason, the thought of killing some poor civilian actually bothered him. Maybe, he was getting soft.
"Nah," he told himself with a shake of his head. After all the death he'd seen--and caused--in Raccoon City, he thought he was entitled to questioning his own moral code once in a while. Not that he had any intention of changing, but it was nice to know that he hadn't completely lost what few morals he had left.
Hunk approached the bodies and quickly searched them. He found a file on the second victim and quickly scanned it. Primary order: Terminate Mr. Death immediately. Secondary Order: Find and retrieve Lieutenant Billy Coen; Leave no witnesses.
He snorted and pocketed the file, then rifled through the soldier's weapons. He couldn't carry it all, but another survival pack would certainly help! He grabbed the largest pack and stocked with the dead men's weaponry. He ended up with another TMP, an M-11, and two .9 millimeter Beretta Pistols. He took all of the ammunition he could carry, stuffing both packs, and rose to his feet. It was time to go.
Hunk kept to the shadows as he left the alley, making certain that he couldn't be seen. Tomorrow, he'd call the cops anonymously and report the bodies. The Umbrella logo on the backs of their survival vests should be enough to make the police question the company, and that would buy him time. They wouldn't be able to send another unit in until they'd convinced the locals that they had nothing to do with these four dead bodies!
For now, he had to find another hotel room, rest, and finish his search tomorrow. He would be more careful this time, and then he would move on to Stoneville. Eventually, he'd get the hit he was looking for. He just had to stay one step ahead of Umbrella to do it. It was only a matter of time before he was reunited with his brother, Hunk thought grim determination. Then, his former employers would rue the day they'd hired the mercenary known as Death.
---------------------------------------------
Leon walked down Stoneville's main street, which was about five miles long, and ran the entire length of the small town. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his work jacket, shivering slightly as the wind picked up. Gone was the Indian summer that had marked Raccoon's last days. Fall had kicked in with a vengeance, and although he was cold right now, he was grateful for it. He didn't think he'd ever look at summer in quite the same way, again.
He'd spent the last week working at the local factory as a security guard on the night shift. It was mind-numbingly boring, but it was work. With a family to support, he couldn't afford not to work right now, regardless of the government aid they'd been promised.
Not that they'd seen any of that. So far, they'd filled out mountains of paperwork, but that's as far as it had gone. They hadn't been given any vouchers for food, although they had been assured they were coming. Neither he nor Claire had mentioned Sherry, and they weren't going to. They didn't want to lose the little girl who had come to mean so much to him, no matter how much they fought over everything else.
As he neared the motel where Claire and Sherry waited, he found that he was reluctant go inside. He loved his girls, but he and Claire hadn't been getting along too well lately, and that had been hard on Sherry. He had been actively trying to convince Claire to put her search for her brother on hold. Not indefinitely, but just until he'd made enough for he and Sherry to go with her. She'd pointed out that they didn't even have ID's, while she'd already gone to the local DMV and gotten another. Along with a passport, just in case.
Leon scowled darkly at the thought. They'd uncovered rumors that S.T.A.R.S. had gone to Europe after the unit had been disbanded. Claire was just waiting until she had a more specific location before she took off after them. All he wanted was the chance to go with her, and help her find her beloved brother. She had no problem with that, so long as he could come up with the money and the ID on his own. All of her savings were going towards finding her brother.
"Shit," he muttered, kicking at a small rock in his path. He'd gotten the ID, but he still didn't have anything for Sherry. He didn't know how to go about that while trying to keep her identity a secret. He'd been trained as a cop, damn it, not a criminal! Right now, he almost wished that he had. Then, maybe, he would know what to do for the girl he'd adopted as his own.
He paused on the street outside the motel, then glanced up the hill. He could really use another man to talk to right now, and maybe even a cold beer. Claire didn't approve of alcohol, or smoking, or much of anything anymore. All she wanted to do was look for her brother. Period.
Fuck it, Leon thought suddenly. Claire would survive a few more hours without him. He needed company. He turned away from the motel and headed north, making his way towards what passed as the Stoneville suburbs. Most of the houses were good-sized, but modest. Not the one Billy was in. It was huge, with a perfectly-manicured lawn, and a tall gate at the entrance.
Hopefully, Billy hadn't changed his mind about Leon being welcome. The other man had seemed to like him, even if he hadn't cared for Claire. And Sherry had liked him, which meant a lot, despite what Claire seemed to think. Sherry was shy, but she was a smart kid. She had surprisingly good judgment.
Must have come from having two scientists for parents, Leon mused absently. It was as good an explanation as anything else he'd managed to come up with.
He reached the large, ornate gate and tested it with a hesitant hand. It swung open easily, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He'd fully expected it to be locked. This Lily must not be very security conscious. If he'd had her money, he would be!
Leon walked up the long, curvy walkway a little nervously. Before Raccoon City, he had plenty of friends. Now, they were all gone, and he had to start all over. He hadn't done a good job with Billy, and he was afraid that the other man wouldn't let him make amends. And he'd really liked Billy, despite what had happened with Claire. He still did.
A large set of wooden doors opened as he approached the porch, and Leon took an automatic step back. His hand went slipped inside his coat and grasped the handle of the Beretta he was never without. The porch light flared to life, revealing Billy's tall form, and forced himself to relax. No matter what Claire said, he knew that Billy wasn't a threat to him--or anyone else.
"Hey," he greeted tentatively.
Billy smiled faintly and waved him forward. "Does Claire know you're here?" he asked without preamble.
Leon shot him a sour look. "What do you think?" he asked rhetorically.
The other man only laughed and stepped back, allowing him to pass. "What's up, kid?"
"I just wanted to apologize," Leon said, ducking his head as he shrugged. "I'm sorry, for the way Claire acted before."
Billy snorted as he closed the door. "Don't let it bother you, Leon. I'm used to it."
"Well, I'm not," Leon stated baldly. "I'm sorry, that I didn't stand up for you. I should have," he added simply.
Billy saw the guilt on the younger man's features and barely refrained from rolling his eyes. "Apology accepted," he said, thinking that this was certainly the day for them. First Joe, and now Leon. Was there something in the air, or what? "Come on in, kid. You want a beer or something?"
Leon nodded vigorously. "God, that'd be nice!" he exclaimed. At the other man's questioning look, he explained, "Claire doesn't like it when I drink."
"Ah." Billy only nodded, not surprised in the least. "Well, there's a frosty twelve-pack waiting in the kitchen. Follow me."
Leon followed him through the huge, expensively decorated house. The kitchen turned out to be a state-of-the-art number, with gleaming chrome fixtures and marble countertops. "Shit, this is nice, Billy," he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Billy only grinned as he retrieved to bottles of beer from the double-doored refrigerator. "Yeah, it'd be great if I could cook," he said with a laugh. He set one beer on the island and took a seat. "Pull up a stool, kid. You look beat."
"Thanks, I am." Leon sat on one of the tall, cushioned stools with a heavy sigh. He twisted the cap off his beer and took a long swallow. "God, this is good! I hadn't realized how much I'd missed this!'
Billy studied the younger man closely, recognizing the classic signs of insomnia. "You're still not sleeping?" he asked as casually as he could.
Leon looked down at the bottle in hands. "Not much," he answered in a small voice. "I've been working nights down at the factory, and Claire and I. . .we're not really getting along anymore. It's made things. . .difficult."
"I'll bet." Billy smiled crookedly, keeping his low opinion of Claire the bitch to himself. "How's Sherry?"
Bright blue eyes lit up at the name. "She's doing better," he said with obvious affection. "She's slept two nights in a row, and Claire said that she hasn't woken up screaming, either."
Leon's expression dimmed suddenly. "She's good until Claire and I start fighting again, then she just sort of retreats, you know?"
Billy nodded slowly. "Why are you guys fighting?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew.
The other man sighed heavily. "I asked her to stop searching for her brother for a little while, so I could earn enough for Sherry and I to go with her when she finds him. She basically told me to take a flying leap."
He winced at that. The little redhead was so focused on finding that brother of hers that she was fucking up a good thing with Leon. He'd take care of her and the kid, if only she'd ease up and let him be the man. Unfortunately, that was something she didn't seem to be capable of.
"It's not like we could take Sherry out of the country, anyway," the younger man was saying despondently. "We have no identification for her, no way to prove that she's my. . .sister."
"Yeah, I guess that would be a problem." Billy took a sip of his beer, wondering if Ada could do anything for him, and if she'd be willing to. After the way he'd hooked up with Claire, he wasn't so sure. A woman scorned, and all of that.
"Why don't I ask Lily to look into it for you?" he offered at length. After all, the least he could do was ask. "She's got contacts everywhere, and she's using them to help me. Maybe, she could find a way to get Sherry some identification, too."
Leon's clear blue eyes narrowed fractionally. "That's not why I came here, Billy."
Billy's smile widened at the edge to the former policeman's normally even voice. "I never said it was, kid."
Leon eyed him for a moment longer before nodding curtly. "Then, thank you. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for Sherry," he added pointedly.
"Yeah, she's a nice kid." Billy shifted and took another drink, the rolled the cold bottle between his hands. "So, have you changed your mind about moving in here?"
"I wish," Leon sighed. He propped his elbows on the table, his youthful features turning glum. "Claire won't even discuss it. She says that we did what was best for Sherry, and then changes the subject."
"Do you need money?" Billy asked, utterly serious now. "If you do, don't hesitate to ask."
Leon looked up swiftly, the flushed with embarrassment. "Not yet," he said awkwardly. "I don't make much, but it's enough to feed us and keep a roof over our heads."
For now, maybe, Billy thought with a touch of anger. But eventually, they needed to get Sherry somewhere safer than a rat-hole motel in the middle of nowhere. If what Ada had told him about her trek through the R.P.D. precinct was true, then Umbrella was probably still hunting them. Leon had just been lucky enough to avoid detection until now. Billy had the feeling that that wouldn't last much longer. After all, sweet little Sherry was related to one of their top scientists. Ada said that Umbrella would want her, whether she truly knew anything or not, simply as a precaution.
"Don't wait too long," he said finally. "I'm only going to be here for another couple of months. After that, I don't know if Lily will allow complete strangers into her home."
Leon only nodded again, his expression becoming distant. "She must care for your brother an awful lot," was all he said in return.
"Yeah," Billy muttered, blinking back tears. Now was not the time to mention his brother's death. It would require an explanation that he simply wasn't ready to give. "She's something else, that's for sure."
"I miss my family." Leon's voice was quiet, nearly inaudible as he spoke. "My mom and dad, my sister. . .I even miss that little anklebiter of Mom's, and I hated that dog."
Billy smiled at the younger man with sympathy . "My mom died when I was twelve," he offered. "Cancer. My old man and I. . .we don't get along. It was just Hunk and me."
"That must have been hard," Leon murmured.
His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Hunk had it worse."
Leon smiled suddenly. "Alice and Mom fought all the time." He rolled his eyes at the memories that scrolled through his mind. "Especially, after Alice turned eighteen. She thought that because she was an adult, she could do whatever she wanted."
"Even though she still lived at home, right?" Billy questioned wryly.
"Yep." Leon propped his chin up with his hand, looking for all the world like a teenager himself. "I used to listen to them argue and wonder why. I could never talk to Mom like that. She deserved to be treated with respect, not defied at every turn."
"Yeah, I couldn't argue with my mom, either," Billy commiserated. "She was sick all the time, you know? I never understood why Dad wasn't easier on her. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that he just hadn't known how to deal with her being sick. I think it freaked him out, so he tried to ignore it."
"Sherry's not really my sister," Leon blurted out suddenly.
"I figured." At the younger man's surprised look, he explained, "You're both blonds, but that's as far as the resemblance goes. She doesn't look like you or Claire. I assumed she was another survivor."
Leon nodded, running a hand through his golden hair. "Her parents died in Raccoon, and she doesn't have any family."
"So, she's lost, just like the rest of us."
He smiled wearily. "I guess so."
Billy returned it crookedly. "Don't worry, kid. I won't say anything."
"I didn't think you would, Billy. It's just. . ." Leon shrugged helplessly. "I don't want to lose her. That's all."
He sighed and took a long draught of his beer. Now, that he'd had a chance to sit down and relax, he realized that he was utterly exhausted. He thought that, maybe, he'd be able to sleep tonight. Provided Claire wasn't too pissed at him for not coming straight home.
But it had been worth it, Leon thought with a small smile. He wasn't going to let Claire dictate who he could hang out with. He liked Billy, no matter what he'd been accused of. And unlike her, he didn't have a family to occupy his every waking moment. Not anymore.
He scowled at the thought and glanced at his watch. "I need to go," he said with genuine reluctance. "Claire's going to be pissed that I'm late as it is."
And then some, Billy thought. Aloud, he only said, "Well, you're welcome anytime, Leon. All of you."
Leon only nodded. "Thanks, for the beer, Billy."
"You're welcome, kid."
Billy walked him to the door, sure that Ada wouldn't want anyone wandering through the house unescorted. Not even Leon Kennedy. He opened the door, and paused. "Look, Leon," he began hesitantly. "If you need anything--and I mean anything--just come by. Okay?"
Leon ducked his tawny his head shyly but didn't answer. "I'll see you later, Billy."
"Take care of yourself, kid."
"I will."
Billy waited until he'd reached the street to close the door. Poor kid, he thought with a sigh. Leon didn't know what the hell he was doing. He was the sole provider for a girlfriend and a preteen girl, and he was only twenty-one himself. It was too bad Claire was such a ball-breaker. Leon could really use the help right now.
"How is he?"
He turned at the husky, soft-spoken question. Ada stood a few feet away, in the drawing room entryway, a vulnerable expression shaping her stunning Asian features. "He's tired and stressed," he answered bluntly.
Ada sighed and crossed her arms over her considerable chest. "He still won't consider coming here?"
"Claire won't hear of it," he said with a snort.
Anger flitted across her face, then was gone. "Will he accept help from you?" she asked at length.
"If I insist, yes." Billy echoed her sigh as he approached her. "He's worried about losing Sherry, because he can't prove that she's actually his sister. He's afraid that she'll be taken away, and he won't be able to stop to it."
Ada nodded and tucked a strand of sable hair back behindone ear. "That, I can help with."
He grinned with obvious relief. "I was hoping you'd say that, honey."
She laughed shortly. "I was right, Billy. You are spoiled."
"Maybe, just a little," he admitted with embarrassment. "I like Leon, Ada. He's a good guy. I'd like to help him, if you'll help me."
"I'll do what I can," she said simply.
"Thanks, sweetheart." He leaned against the doorjam, crossing his arms as he studied her. "I haven't seen too much of you this week. Is everything alright?"
Ada smiled slightly. "Things are getting hectic at work," she said guardedly. "Other than that, everything is fine."
Billy took the hint and backed off. The less he knew about her 'business' the better. "And Joe?" he asked. "How are things going with him?"
"He is proving to be an excellent investment," she said with obvious satisfaction.
He raised one eyebrow skeptically. "And that's how you see him? As an investment?"
Her sapphire eyes shot to his, even as she shrugged casually. "Joseph is a most unusual man," she said in lieu of answer.
Billy choked down a laugh at that one. He'd noticed the growing closeness between them, as well as it's calming effect on Super-cop. Ada didn't seem to like it, but she had control issues, so he could understand that. Joseph's T-Virus-enhanced abilities didn't seem to matter to Ada, so he didn't think his infection was an issue. No, this went a little deeper. Just how much deeper, he didn't know.
And he didn't want to, he told himself firmly. It was none of his damned business. Ada could take care of herself, and she wouldn't appreciate his interference. If something happened to change that, he'd step in. Otherwise, he staying the fuck out of it.
"Well, I'm glad he found a place with you," he said as he pushed away from the wall. "You're a good woman, doll face."
Ada sniffed disdainfully at the compliment. "I'm a bitch, and I prefer it that way!"
He laughed aloud this time, grinning as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Well, you're the nicest bitch I've ever met, then."
"And you're still sweet," she all but purred. He took a quick step back, and she laughed seductively. "You're a smart man, Billy Coen."
"And then some," he said with feeling.
Ada patted his cheek fondly. "Are you feeling up to a game of pool?"
Billy groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, why not? I haven't gotten my ass kicked in the last couple of weeks. I'm due."
"Good." She slipped her arm through his and smiled warmly. "I thought I'd watch you and Joseph play."
He sent her an exasperated look. "We've already made nice, sweetheart."
"Yes, but you could both use the distraction."
He snorted but let her lead him through the house. It was true, after all. Maybe, he wouldn't miss Rebecca so much if he spent an evening distracting himself. "Okay, I'm all yours. Just be gentle, honey."
"Oh, I will, handsome. I will."