-1RESIDENT EVIL
Chapter Eleven
Sherry crept cautiously through the long hallway, casting furtive looks over her shoulder as she went. She had promised Leon and Claire that she would stay out of the mansion's west wing, but after two weeks here, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She'd waited until they had gone on their daily walk to sneak away. Now, she had to make she didn't get caught. She didn't want Billy's friend to get angry at the invasion of her privacy and kick them out just because she couldn't follow the rules.
And she really didn't want to cause any problems for Billy, who had done so much to help them already. Still, she was curious about the voices she heard when she was supposed to be sleeping at night. This house might be big, but had excellent acoustics, and one of those voices sounded vaguely familiar.
It was a woman's voice, deep and throaty, with a slight drawl she was sure she'd heard before. For the life of her, she couldn't remember where, but she got scared every time she heard it. For some reason, it reminded her of the night she'd met Claire and Leon, and lost both of her parents in the police station.
Sherry paused at the end of the corridor, a sad smile shaping her lips. She missed her mom and dad so much it hurt sometimes. Even though they had been consumed by their work, she had always known that they loved her. They had left notes for her to read every day after school telling her so. But she had to admit that it was nice to spend time with Leon and Claire. They almost never left her alone. One of them was usually with her, and if they were together, they included her in whatever they happened to be doing. It was the way she had always wanted her family to be. She just wished she hadn't had to lose both of her parents to make it a reality.
She peeked around the corner and, satisfied that she was alone, stole forward. She had seen Billy go this way a few times, so she knew that she was headed in the right direction. She'd never actually seen which room he'd entered, but she'd find it eventually. She just had to know who Lily and Joe were, and why they hid themselves so thoroughly in their own home.
And, she needed to discover who the woman behind that disturbing voice was. In part, to alleviate her fears, but mostly to thank her for taking them in. It was such a nice thing for a total stranger to do. She must have loved Billy's brother a lot.
Sherry stopped at the first door she came to and carefully pressed her ear against it. Nothing but silence greeted her ears, and she closed her eyes, hoping to enhance her hearing just a bit. It didn't help, and she laughed inwardly at her own silliness. She wasn't James Bond, after all. She was just plain old Sherry Birkin.
She eased the door open, wincing as the click of the knob seemed to echo around her, and poked her head inside. It was a large bedroom, decorated with expensive antiques that filled the entire mansion. She spied a pair of blue jeans lying in heap on the floor, a pair of shiny, new-looking cowboy boots peeking out from under them. She glanced at the bed and swallowed hard as she saw a tattooed arm dangling over the side. She had unwittingly stumbled into Billy's bedroom!
Uh-oh, she thought as she quickly backed out of the room. The last thing she wanted was to invade his privacy. She knew that Billy didn't sleep much; he tended to wander the house at all hours of the night. She'd heard those boots clicking against the expensive tile nearly every night since they arrived here. The last thing she wanted to wake him from what might be the only sleep he'd get today.
Sherry carefully closed the door and approached the next. She grasped the shiny gold knob and listened for a moment, but--of course--didn't hear anything. She uttered a quiet sigh and very carefully turned the handle. She hesitated, drawing a deep breath for courage, and turned the knob.
The door opened easily, revealing yet another expensively-decorated room. Like the last, this one was occupied. Unfortunately, this occupant was wide awake, staring straight at her with one eyebrow raised. "Can I help you?"
Sherry stared into sapphire-blue eyes, her own round with shock. "It's you!" she exclaimed clumsily. "I saw you in the police station with Leon! You're supposed to be dead!"
"Am I, now?" Ada gazed at the small, obviously frightened girl and attempted a smile. She had hoped to avoid Leon and his little 'family' for the duration of their stay here, but she supposed that this meeting had been inevitable. Having met this girl's mother, she knew that tenaciousness ran in the family, so she wasn't too surprised that the girl had found her way here. Now, she had to figure out what to do about it.
The girl looked scared, and Ada couldn't blame her for it. In this child's experience, only monsters returned from the dead. "Come in," she invited at length. She gestured towards the chair that Joseph used--when he wasn't hovering over her shoulder like an overprotective mother-hen--and settled back to wait. The girl hesitated, obviously uncertain, and she added, "I would imagine that you have questions for me."
Sherry nodded slowly, not quite sure what to do. She took a hesitant step into the room and halted, chewing her bottom lip in a nervous gesture. "Does Leon know?" she asked in a quiet, too-adult voice.
Ada's smile disappeared. "No," she answered simply. "I didn't want to disrupt the life he's made for himself with you and Miss Redfield."
Sherry winced at the sorrow that tinged that husky voice. It was echoed in her deep blue eyes, and Sherry could tell that she still loved Leon. Having them here now, with Leon and Claire together, couldn't be easy for her. "Why did you take us in?"
The older woman shrugged in a deceptively casual gesture. "It was the right thing to do."
"Uh-huh." Sherry knew her skepticism showed as she took another step forward. "Are you going to tell Leon that you're alive?"
"No," Ada responded flatly. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't, either."
"Don't you think he deserves to know the truth?" she asked. "He has nightmares about you dying, you know. He wakes up screaming your name sometimes. He blames himself because he wasn't able to save you."
Ada looked away, guilt coming in to battle with the sense of betrayal that Leon's relationship with Claire Redfield had sparked within her. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Leon pain, even though he had done the same to her, albeit unknowingly. "It's better for everyone if I remain dead," she said at last. "Surely, you would agree with me on that."
Sherry only sighed heavily. She didn't want this woman to come between Leon and Claire, but Leon had loved her. Her 'death' had devastated him, and he was still reeling from it. "I won't say anything," she said softly, "but only because I think that it should come from you. You should be the one to tell him that he's not responsible for your death."
"I can't do that just now." Ada sighed and rose to her feet, rounding the desk before settling back against it. She leveled a frank look at the too-smart twelve-year-old, hoping that honesty would be enough to keep her silent. "I never blamed Leon for my death, child. I made the decision to draw that monster's attention to me, and I don't regret it. My sacrifice gave Leon a chance to escape, and that's all that mattered to me. But make no mistake, Sherry Birkin, I did die in Raccoon City. How do think it would make Leon feel to see me again, knowing that I'm not completely human any longer, mmmm?"
The little girl tensed visibly, her bright blue eyes huge with fear. "B-But you're not a-a monster," she stammered.
"That's a matter of opinion," Ada muttered under her breath. Aloud, she only said, "No, I'm not a B.O.W., but that doesn't change the fact that I--somehow--returned from the dead. Leon was there when I died, child. He would know the truth immediately. It's bad enough that he blames himself for a decision I made. I won't have him steeped in guilt because I've come back… different. He doesn't deserve that, and I refuse to be the one who does that to him. If you care for him as much as I believe you do, you'll remain silent, as well."
Sherry gazed at the beautiful Asian woman in the expensive designer jeans with trepidation. She didn't know what to think of Ada Wong, a highly-trained spy with a penchant for younger men. She had just admitted that she wasn't quite human, that she had died and come back. The man she loved was with another woman, and she had invited them into her home anyway. She'd given them a place to stay, and Sherry had invaded her privacy in the worst possible way.
"I'm sorry," she said finally, forcing herself to meet that bold gaze. "I shouldn't have let my curiosity get the better of me today."
Ada smiled faintly, glad that she wasn't as big a bitch as her mother had been. "I understand, child. I would have done the same thing, had I been in your position."
Sherry nodded slowly, her fine features reflecting uncertainty. "I don't like the thought of lying to Leon."
"I know." The smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "Leon is a good man. He deserves honesty. We simply can't afford to give it to him right now. You can understand that, can't you?"
"Yes, I suppose that I can." Sherry hesitated, a tiny figure in the open doorway. "Billy said that had a-a boyfriend. Is he. . .like you?"
The smile reappeared, taking on a rather smug cast. "Joseph is a survivor of Raccoon City, if that's what you mean."
Sherry frowned at the too-smooth delivery of those words, realizing that the woman had evaded her question. "Well, I just wanted to thank you," she said quickly, adding, "For taking us in. That's why I came here today."
"Ah." Ada inclined her head once, the smile gentling. "No thanks are necessary, child. I take care of my own."
Which meant that she still loved Leon an awful lot, Sherry thought with sympathy. "I won't tell Leon about you," she said truthfully, "but I'm not good at lying. He'll probably know something's wrong the minute he sees me."
"We'll worry about that when--if--the time comes. Until then. . ." Ada pushed away from the desk and resumed her seat. "You're welcome to come back here if you need anything, but do come alone, mmmm?"
"Um, sure," Sherry said hastily, backing out of the room. She closed the door with a sense of relief and fled down the hall, not bothering with stealth. She'd already been caught, anyway.
Ada listened to the clatter of the little girl's shoes as she ran through the house with a combination of amusement and concern. She heard the click of a door opening and turned towards the sound. Joseph stood in the doorway that led to her bedroom, his uncovered eyes glinting as they locked on hers. She beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand, watching with appreciation as he approached with silent grace. In the past, she had always preferred slender, non-threatening men. In the last month, however, she had come to appreciate the heavily muscled body that shuddered under even the most innocent of touches. Joseph was a unique man in more ways than one.
He came to a halt before her, taking his customary seat on the corner of the desk, and she tilted her head back to meet his two-toned gaze. "You heard?" she questioned unnecessarily.
Joseph nodded, his thick brown hair swaying around the back of his neck. "Are you alright?" he asked bluntly.
"I will be." Ada reached out and ran a manicured fingertip down the top of his thigh. Those muscles rippled in response, and she couldn't contain a satisfied smile. "Just how concerned are you, Joseph?"
He let out a bark of laughter, no longer bothered by his body's response to her, or the typical evasion. "I don't think 'concerned' is the right word, Ada."
"Mmmmm, perhaps not," she murmured seductively. "Feel free to substitute something more. . .appropriate, lover."
Joseph shifted, placing both hands on the chairs armrests, effectively caging her. He bent over her, placing his lips next to her ear, and said, "Consider me distracted, woman."
Ada laughed at that, the husky sound filling his senses. "Sometimes, I think you know me too well, Joseph."
He pulled back just enough to look down at her, relieved to see the sorrow gone from her brilliant sapphire gaze. "I try," he murmured, his voice deepening despite his best efforts to control it.
"And you do exceptionally well." She placed both hands on his forearms and slowly ran her palms up the length of his arms. She watched with fascination as his muscles trembled in her wake, then lifted her gaze to his own. "Thank you, Joseph."
"You're welcome, Ada." Joseph grasped her shoulders and gently hauled her to her feet. He pulled her into the cradle of his thighs, one hand delving into her cap of tousled black hair, the other sweeping over her slender back. "Your turn, woman."
Ada lifted one sable brow in amusement. "Oh, so now you want me to distract you?" she questioned archly.
"Yep." His hold tightened as he buried his face in her slender neck. He pressed his lips to her fragrant skin, smiling to himself as her breath caught in a gasp. "Oh, yeah. It's definitely your turn!"
She laughed again as she slid her hands into his rich brown hair, turning her head until his lips were mere inches from hers. "I'll see what I can do," she murmured before fitting her lips to his.
His own laughter was muffled as her lips moved over his, and she smiled to herself as she deepened the kiss. She liked that Joseph let her set the pace of their pace of their odd relationship. He didn't care that she was calling the shots, so long as she didn't try to shut him out, as she had so often in the beginning. She was honest with him--brutally so at times--and that really was all he required of her. He didn't expect her to love him, nor did she ask for it in return. They were allies and lovers, and much to her surprise, they were becoming friends as well.
Joseph broke the kiss as it became too much for him, lifting his head to gaze down at her with glittering amber eyes. "God, but you're a dangerous woman," he uttered raggedly.
"Yes, I am," she acknowledged in an arrogant purr.
She grasped his large hands in her own and pulled away from the desk. He kept pace with her as she led him through the room, his big chest heaving, those tawny red-gold eyes never leaving hers. All of his attention was focused on her, his fascination all too evident, as he stalked her like the predator that he was. As unsettling as his interest had been in the beginning, Ada found that she liked what might very well be a dangerous obsession--for them both.
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Wesker sat quietly in the uncomfortable chair, his handsome features showing none of his impatience, as he waited for Trent to put in an appearance. His concealed gaze swept the surprisingly plain office, taking in the rather stark leather-and-chrome decorations. A slight whirring sound came to his ears, and he cocked his head in its direction. His enhanced eyesight was just barely able to detect a camera hidden in a black pedestal that supported an ugly steel sculpture, and his firm lips curled into a mocking smile.
Of course, Trent would monitor all of his meetings, especially this one. Like nearly every other executive he had ever known, the old man was obviously paranoid when it came to his business dealings. The Agency might value him and all he had brought to it when he had betrayed Umbrella, but they were smart enough not to trust him. At least, Trent was.
The smile died at the thought. He hated that the President had made Trent his handler, but there was nothing he could do about it. Trent had made his own dislike known, as well. While he didn't know exactly why the old man disapproved of him, he could guess. After being denied Ada Wong's assistance on several occasions, he had come to the conclusion that Trent was Ada's handler too, and that old buzzard was very protective of his best agent.
Not that he would let that stop him, Albert thought practically. Ada Wong, and her formidable survival skills, would be essential to his future plans. As much as he hated to admit it, he would need the beautiful Asian viper if he wished to succeed in his chosen path.
And he would, he swore silently. He had given up everything he had--his future with Umbrella, his precious S.T.A.R.S.' units, his very life--to do this. He would let nothing stop him, not Trent, not the Agency's board of directors, and certainly not Ada Wong.
While he was still very angry with Ada for the stunt she had pulled during their escape from Raccoon City, he had to admit that he admired her spirit. It must have taken a great deal of courage for her to jump from that chopper, especially after he had threatened Leon Kennedy's life. And then to make her way through the zombie infested streets of the doomed city. . .
Yes, Wesker thought, he needed Ada Wong, and he would get her. If not one way, then another. If Trent denied him permission to use Ada on his next mission, then he would simply go to the source. Provided that the mission to retrieve William's daughter didn't flush her out into the open, anyway.
The door opened behind him and his entire body tensed in feral anticipation. He forced his unwilling muscles to relax as it was closed again, schooling his features to project the impassive façade he had perfected over his many years in Umbrella's intelligence service. He watched with deceptive stillness as Trent walked calmly into the room. The older man ignored him as he took his seat behind the ultra-modern desk, a shiny cd-rom in his hands.
Albert watched as, still silent, Trent set the disk on the desk before him. The older man folded his hands over it, lifted his gaze, and said, "You have a request?"
Wesker strove to keep his expression calm as fury raced through him, triggered by the complete disinterest in the other man's voice. "I need a SF unit to retrieve my next test subject," he answered, his own voice amazingly calm as he added, "Unless, of course, you've changed your mind about Agent Wong?"
Victor Darius, known to the world only as Trent, raised both eyebrows at that. "Agent Wong is on a very important assignment. As I've already told you," he added with a hint of very real annoyance.
Wesker only inclined his blond head, hiding his own irritation at the expected response. "And the unit?" he asked, mentally shrugging his disappointment aside. "I will require a helicopter, as well."
Victor studied the man who had led his own team of hand-picked soldiers into the Spenser Mansion to be slaughtered with cool brown eyes. "Sherry Birkin is the subject's name?" he inquired, as though he didn't already know exactly who the girl was and why Wesker wanted her.
"Yes." Albert rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, tenting his fingers beneath his chin. "As you are no doubt aware, I knew her father, William, quite well. From what William said to me in the past, as well as from the papers he left scattered throughout both Umbrella facilities, I believe that he and his wife somehow altered their daughter. Most likely at the time of conception."
The older man merely nodded, his hawk-like gaze locked onto the sunglasses covering his own. "And this is to be a private project?" he asked with just the right amount of disapproval.
Wesker nearly smiled at that, but controlled the movement. "I will--of course--share any discoveries I might make with the Board Of Directors, but yes, the girl will be a personal experiment."
Victor grunted once and sat back in his chair, hating this man and all he represented. But for now, his hands were tied. He wasn't in a position to extract the revenge he and Ada were working so hard for. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to play the game, and hope that his parents would forgive him for the choices he was forced to make to avenge them. Sacrificing this little girl would be one of the worst of them, he was sure.
"Permission granted," he said flatly, adding, "I'll even throw in a second unit, so long as you yourself don't take any part in the actual mission."
Wesker scowled darkly, his red-gold eyes flashing behind those night-black shades. "I am not simply a scientist," he snapped, the polite façade cracking. "I've spent more than fifteen years as an intelligence operative. I am more than capable of--"
"No." Victor watched that inscrutable veneer crumble with a sense of satisfaction. Albert Wesker might be superhuman, but he had his weak points, just like any other man. Pride goeth before a fall, he thought with dark humor. Aloud, he explained, "You are supposed to be dead, Captain Wesker. The Board would prefer it if the world continued to believe that. You may accompany the troops, Wesker. You can even command them, so long as you do so from a secure location. Is that understood?"
"Yes," Albert hissed, unable to hid his fury at being thwarted. He had wanted to take part in this mission simply because it would have given him the opportunity to make good on his threats to Ada. He had planned on killing Leon Kennedy himself, and keeping his body long enough to see if he was a viable test subject. That would have showed Ada Wong just how big a mistake she had made in going against him.
"You may retrieve the girl at your leisure, Captain. Now, was there anything else?"
Wesker fought back a nearly overwhelming impulse to leap across that desk and strangle the old man. "About Ada Wong--"
Victor sighed dramatically, the loud sound effectively cutting him off. "Captain, while I do understand your. . .interest in Agent Wong, you must not let that interest become an obsession. She is one of our best assets, and we will use her how we see fit. Personal feelings should have no bearing on your work here," he added for good measure.
"Very well." Albert stood quickly, his entire body trembling with the force of his rage, insulted over the notion that his 'interest' in Ada Wong was anything other than professional. He would have to be more careful when requesting her services in the future. "Thank you," forced from between clenched teeth, "for your time, Mr. Trent."
Victor merely nodded and reached for his computer's power-switch. "Have good day, Captain."
He watched as Albert Wesker left his office with as much dignity as he could muster, waiting until the door closed behind him to smile. Ada would appreciate that last dig, he thought with a chuckle. In fact. . .
He pressed a button that was hidden on the underside of the desk, reaching for the phone as the door locked electronically. He would warn her of Wesker's intentions, as well as the government's interest in Kennedy, and let her handle it however she saw fit. As he dialed the safe house number, he wondered if perhaps he should have warned Wesker about the government surveillance team, then shrugged the thought aside. This was as good a time as any to test the man who had betrayed his former employers so spectacularly. And who knew, maybe they would get lucky, and the government would kill Albert Wesker for them.
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Billy entered the library, intending to grab the book he'd been trying to finish, and stopped short. Sherry was sitting in his favorite chair, the one with the overstuffed cushions and the matching ottoman. The leather-bound volume in her tiny hands the same one he'd come for, and was surprised to see her reading Shakespeare. It was a damned hard read for him, let alone a twelve-year-old girl.
"Uh, hi," he said, wincing at the less than enthusiastic greeting.
"Hi." Sherry looked down at the book for a moment, idly tracing invisible patterns on the aged leather surface. Her pretty features were solemn as she raised her eyes to his once again, and he realized that she'd been waiting for him. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," he said quickly, not quite sure what to expect. He glanced around the room but, to his chagrin, realized that they were alone.
"Claire and Leon are. . .talking in Leon's room," she said in response to his unspoken question. "I've noticed that you spend a lot of time in here, so I thought I'd wait for you. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, it's, ah, fine." Billy grabbed another chair and set it opposite of her. He took a seat and crossed his arms over his chest, wondering what this kid could possibly want with him. "What's up. . .Sherry?"
Sherry sighed heavily. "I went exploring this morning, and I ended up in the west wing."
Oh, shit, he thought with alarm, straightening from his slump. "Did you...see anyone there?" he asked uncomfortably.
She nodded, her golden hair swaying with the motion. "You call her Lily, I believe, but when Leon talks about her, he calls her Ada."
Billy ran a hand through his too-long hair, wondering what hell they were going to do now. "What are you going to do?" he asked finally, not even attempting to lie. "Are you going to tell Leon and Claire about her?"
"She asked me not to," Sherry replied quietly. "She doesn't want Leon to know that she's alive."
"Yeah." He sighed and slumped back again, shaking his head negatively. "It's a mess, I know."
The little girl who was in some ways an adult smiled sadly. "I think she still loves him, Billy."
He nodded again, his cobalt eyes dark. "She's said as much."
"I'm not sure what to do," Sherry confessed haltingly. "I don't like the thought of lying to Leon about something this important, but I don't want to lose him either."
He snorted, unable to stop himself. "Leon's not going anywhere, kid. He's crazy about and the bi--you and Claire," he corrected himself quickly.
"It's all right, Billy." Sherry smiled a little. "I know you and Claire don't get along, and that it's mostly her fault. She hasn't been very nice to you."
Billy shrugged that aside. "Well, he loves you guys, so you're worrying over nothing. Leon's never going to leave you."
Sherry's smile faded at his words. "But he loved her too, Billy. He still has nightmares about the night she died. He feels guilty because he couldn't save her, but I think it's more than that. I think he misses her."
"Maybe." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and met her gaze squarely. "Lily doesn't want to see him hurt, Sherry. If he finds out that she's alive, he will be. I can't tell you why, but trust me on this. It will hurt him."
"It's because she's somehow infected," Sherry said with certainty. "She admitted as much to me, though she couched it in different terms."
Billy gazed at the young girl with open astonishment, then snapped his mouth closed. "You're one smart fucking kid," he muttered under his breath.
"Yes, I am." Sherry tilted her head as she watched him, the gesture reminding him of the one Ada used so often. "I've heard Claire and Leon talking about the T-Virus when they thought I was sleeping. I know that it's what caused everyone to turn into zombies. Somehow, Ada Wong was infected, only in a different way, and she doesn't want anyone to know it."
"Can you blame her?" he asked frankly. "She's not a zombie or a monster or anything, but she's still a carrier. I think it scares her, knowing that she's got this damned bug inside her, and that she'll never get rid of it."
"It would scare me." She wrapped her arms around her middle as she remembered how scared she had been after that monster had attacked her in the garbage dump. Her stomach had hurt after that, sometimes so badly that she'd been unable to go on. Claire had told her afterwards that she'd given her a shot that had made her better. She wondered why no one had done the same for Ada Wong.
"When Claire and I were separated in the sewers beneath the police station, I was attacked by a big monster," Sherry told him in a voice that trembled. "It forced something down my throat, and I felt rotten after that. Claire ended up giving me a shot that cured me of the G-embryo, as she called it. Isn't there a vaccine for the T-Virus, too?"
"No, I'm afraid there's not," he answered in a too-quiet voice. He studied her for a long moment before smiling broadly. "Not only smart, but tough, too. I'm impressed, kid."
She blushed hotly at his words, ducking her head in a gesture he'd seen Leon use more than once. "Sorry, kid. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"No, it's just. . ." her voice trailed off as she raised her head. "Thank you, Billy. You've been so nice to us, even though Claire was mean to you, and I just wanted you to know that I--that we--appreciate everything you've done for us."
"It's no big deal," he said gruffly, adding, "thanks, though."
He rose to his feet, needing to talk to Ada and see if they couldn't find a quicker way to get identification for Sherry. As much as he liked having Leon around, it would be safer all the way around if they got him out of here. Preferably, before he and Joseph crossed paths. That scene wouldn't be pretty, to the say the very least.
Of course, he could be wrong about that, Billy told himself as he left the room. Joe had made great strides since coming here. Somehow, Ada had managed to teach him how to curb the more animalistic instincts that the T-Virus had unleashed in him. He was calmer now, able to control that hair-trigger temper of his. Especially, when he was with Ada. She kept Supercop calm, even when he was sizing her up like a side of Angus. Weird, but true.
He shook his head as he slipped into the drawing room that Ada used as her office. The room was empty, and he made a frustrated sound under his breath. He glanced at the door that led to her bedroom and snorted. "No way in hell I'm going in there," he muttered to himselfHe'd give them a little time to finish whatever it was they were doing.
Keeping that thought firmly in mind, Billy glanced around the room for something to keep himself occupied while he waited. He grabbed a pencil and a small legal pad off the desk and threw himself into a chair. He flipped the pad open and began to draw, much the way he had when he'd been young. It was a habit his old man had hated and had done his best to break him of.
Good old Dad, he thought with a twinge of remembered pain. He had been too much like his mother for Dad's liking. He'd wanted his only son to be strong, to be a man. He'd hated the fact that Billy buried himself in his books instead of joining little league, that he'd rather draw than go to the shooting range. He'd done everything he could to bully his too-quiet son into becoming what he wanted him to be, and for a time, it had worked.
Of course, that was only because Hunk had been around. Billy smiled to himself as the pencil swept over the page. Hunk had been tough. Even at sixteen, he'd been meaner than hell. He hadn't taken any shit from Dad, even though the old man dished it out on a regular basis. What Billy Coen Sr. never realized was that the stepson he hated was the kind of man he'd tried to mold Billy into.
It probably hadn't helped that Billy had followed Hunk around like a puppy. Once Mom died, he and Hunk had been inseparable. His older brother had taken him under his wing, and Billy had tried desperately to please him. He had stopped reading his precious books, begun to work out, and had even gone out for the football team. All because the older half-brother he idolized had done the same.
God, that had pissed Dad off! Billy thought, his smile widening into a grin. The old man had been incensed because it had been Hunk who had finally brought Billy out of his shell instead of him. For some reason, Dad had seen his wife's son from her first marriage as a threat and had reacted accordingly. To this day, he didn't know how his brother had been able to put up with that kind of treatment for four long years. It had been hard enough on him, and he hadn't been the target.
Hunk hadn't talked about his own father much, except to say that he was glad the asshole was dead. Billy remembered how shocked he'd been to hear his brother say that, but the black eye he'd sported when he came to them had spoken volumes. Even at twelve, he'd been smart enough to realize what that probably meant. A week after his father's funeral, and the bruise still hadn't faded.
Billy shook his head, scattering his overlong hair. It fell into his face and he raked it back in an absent gesture. He was getting used to wearing it long, which was probably good, because it was so different from the crew-cut he'd worn all through his life. When he finally got his new identity, he was hoping that it would help him keep his secret, so that he could one day live a normal life.
Which brought Rebecca to mind. Billy glanced down at the pad in his hands and began to laugh. It looked like she'd never really left it, he thought with a flash of humor. Rebecca's face stared back him, her expression one of outraged pique. It was the same expression she'd worn the first time he'd called her 'little girl'. They'd been standing in a small hallway on the Ecliptic Express, and he'd made the mistake reaching out to touch her. She'd ducked away from his touch--they'd been virtual strangers, after all--but he could still remember the way her silky cap of honeyed brown hair had felt beneath his fingertips.
She'd been adorable, he thought with a rush of emotion. As she'd stood there telling him that she would be fine on her own, that she didn't need to cooperate with a wanted felon, he hadn't been able to resist the temptation to touch her. It had to be among the stupidest things he'd ever done, but he hadn't been able to fight the impulse. Not even when she'd pointed her finger at him and upbraided him for his actions.
Billy stroked the image with his thumb, frowning as the line blurred under his touch. He carefully erased the damage and repaired the line, smiling crookedly at the sketch that didn't come close to doing her justice. "I miss you," he murmured, wishing that she could hear him. "I'll be with you soon, sweetheart. Just wait for me, okay?"
He laughed at his own foolishness, but it made him feel closer to her, even though she was a continent away. She was fighting the good fight with her comrades, and he couldn't wait to join her. Every day spent apart from her was agony, but he could live with that. At least, he was alive to see her again. After all he'd been through in the last four years, he had a whole new appreciation for the simple act of breathing.
The sound of a door opening brought him out of his chair. Ada smiled at him as she sashayed into the room, a crimson robe made of silk billowing around the incredibly long length of her legs. Her hair was tangled around her face, her full lips reddened from kisses, giving her that appealing 'just fucked' look, and he found himself grinning. Yeah, he was damn glad he'd waited!
"So, how's Joe doing today?" he threw out teasingly.
Ada laughed deeply as her sensitive ears picked up a snort in the other room. "Joseph's coming along nicely," she answered suggestively.
Billy laughed even as he shuddered at the image her words produced. "You're bad, sweetheart."
"Always," she returned throatily. She came to a stop before him and brushed her lips over his cheek. She cocked her head to one side, her fine Asian features showing open affection, as she studied him. "How are you today, Billy?"
"Not nearly as good as Joe," he drawled wickedly, adding, "but I'm good."
Ada ran her eyes over him boldly. "I'll just bet you are, handsome."
He rolled his eyes even as he took a comically quick step back. She merely laughed again and let him go, her gaze dropping to the pad in his hand. "May I?" she asked, extending one slim hand.
Billy's expression showed his discomfort as he glanced down at the sketch. "Uh, sure," he said, setting the pad in her hand. "It's just a doodle, though. Nothing special."
Ada studied the sketch with surprise. It was a rather good rendering of Rebecca Chambers. Somehow, Billy had managed to capture the innocence that she herself had noticed during her surveillance of Officer Chambers. Nothing special, indeed. "It's quite good, Billy. I'm impressed," she told him truthfully.
"Thanks," he muttered awkwardly, unable to stop himself from reaching for it.
She gave it back to him, suppressing an impulse to laugh. Billy Coen was one of the most. . .unusual men she had ever known. A soldier with the heart of an artist, she thought as she watched him fold the sketch and tuck into his back pocket. She never would have believed that anyone related to Hunk could be so sensitive. Hunk certainly hadn't been!
Ada leaned back against the desk, raising her gaze to his. "What can I do for you, Billy?"
Billy sighed as he remembered what had brought him here. "I had a talk with Sherry a little while ago," he began, his cobalt eyes locking onto her own.
"Ah." She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, her sapphire eyes becoming shuttered. "I was surprised when she came in, but we talked, and I think we came to an understanding. I don't believe she'll tell Leon about me."
"She's afraid," he told her bluntly. "She's scared that's she's going to lose Leon if she tells him that you're alive."
Ada only shook her head as pain lanced her heart. "Leon doesn't love me, Billy. She has nothing to worry about in that respect."
"Are you sure?" Billy asked intensely. "I saw the look on his face when he told me about the woman he had lost Raccoon. He was grieving, Ada."
A wistful look crossed her normally impassive features, then was gone. "Leon is a good person," she responded with a shrug. "I'm sure he's grieving for everyone who died in Raccoon City, not just me."
He examined her closely, sighing again as he realized that she really believed what she was saying. Personally, he thought she wrong, but he wasn't going to try to convince her otherwise. Even if Leon hadn't hooked up with Claire, there was Joseph to think about. They had become friends in the last few months, and he knew that Joe cared about Ada, maybe even loved her. The last thing he wanted was to screw things up for Supercop. Sadly, he needed Ada's help even more than Leon did.
"You're not going to let Leon know that you're alive, then?" he asked at length.
"No," she answered coolly. "I trust you'll keep silent, as well?"
Billy scowled at that. "Of course, I will," he snapped, insulted that she would even ask. "You should know me better than that, Ada."
Ada smiled at the abrupt shift in mood, unable to contain it. "I do, Billy. I do."
He eyed her with wary cobalt before nodding once. "Good," he stated, folding his arms over his well-muscled chest. "I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. That's the only reason I mentioned it."
"Hhhmmm." Ada watched those muscles flex and sighed with genuine regret. While Billy might not be blond, he was a very attractive man, not to mention thoughtful and considerate. "I'm really beginning to wish I'd seduced you, Billy."
Billy snorted and rolled his eyes. "Here we go," he muttered, unable to hide his smile.
She only laughed and shook her head negatively. "Don't worry, handsome. I've got more than enough on my plate with Joseph."
"Good," he said with a very real relief. "I like having you as a friend, sweetheart. Anything else would just fuck things up."
"I agree." Her expression turned somber. "You're the only man I've ever known who hasn't wanted something from me." His own expression changed, guilt and discomfort replacing the smile, and she explained, "I don't mean your freedom, Billy. I meant. . .personally."
"Oh." To his chagrin, Billy felt a blush creep into his cheeks. "Well, it's not that you're not gorgeous, doll face. I mean, you know you're hot, but I've got Rebecca to think about."
"That's beautiful, Billy." His blush doubled, and Ada laughed fondly. "I'm well aware of how much you love your Rebecca, Billy. But had I wanted to, I could've have worked around that."
She said it with such confidence that Billy didn't doubt her. "I'm glad you didn't try," he told her honestly. "It would have killed me to betray her that way."
"I know," she returned simply. She didn't mention the promise she'd made to Hunk, not wanting to remind him of the loss they both shared. "Your papers should be in any day now," she said instead, turning towards the desk. "Would you like to hear about your new identity before they arrive?"
Billy blinked, surprised by the swift change in conversation, but relieved at the same time. "Yeah, that'd be good," he answered, grinning as he dropped into the chair across from it. "So, am I rich now, or what?"
"Yes," Ada answered simply. "You're new name is William King, and you are one of the richest men in Europe."
His jaw dropped in shock. "No, seriously," he said as he recovered.
"Seriously, Billy." Those midnight blue eyes widened dramatically, and she couldn't help but laugh. "William King was a very wealthy man. He had no family, no ties in his community; he kept a very low profile. Indeed, no one knows exactly what he looked like. He was quite the recluse before his death."
Billy frowned at that. "If he's dead, wouldn't the whole world know it?"
Ada shrugged delicately. "King was an Army Ranger from '91 to '93. He got tired of killing for them and struck out on his own. He died this in June. Sadly, his last mark turned out to be too much for him. His death was not reported by the government, either here or in Europe. The Army, however, was well aware of his passing. That's where I come in."
He sent her a skeptical glance. "You were Army?" he questioned doubtfully.
"Of course not," she chuckled. "One of my. . .friends, however, is. He is high-ranking, and he has ties to the other armed forces. Through him, I was able to alter King's records--and yours."
Billy remained silent as he absorbed all she had told him. "So, I'm basically taking over this guy's life?" he asked in a quiet voice.
Ada sighed heavily at that. "William King is dead, Billy. Luckily for you, he made a great deal of money before he died. Money that will now be yours."
He looked away. "I don't know if I like the sound of that, Ada."
"I'm sorry, Billy, but it's the best I could do for you."
His head came up swiftly. "Don't apologize," he told her quickly. "I'm damned lucky you chose to help me at all. I'm just having trouble with the fact that the guy was a killer, that's all."
"Don't think about that." Joseph came into the room, his tawny eyes meeting and holding his own. "You're going to be a free man, Billy. And you'll have plenty of money to help S.T.A.R.S. fight Umbrella. Focus on that."
Billy realized that the other man had probably heard the entire conversation, thanks to his enhanced abilities. "I've spent the last three years trying to convince the world that I'm not a murderer, Joe. Now, I'm stepping into the life a real one. I don't like the parallels."
"I don't blame you there," the other man said, "but think about all the good you can do with that money. Dirty or not, you'll need it to fight Umbrella, and keep the woman you love safe. Isn't that what matters?"
He thought of Rebecca, who was living in an old airplane hangar with her comrades, and knew that Joe was right. If this money could help them, then he would take it, no matter where it had come from. Maybe, doing good with it would help make up for the innocent people who had died to make it.
"Yeah, that's what matters, Joe." Billy smiled crookedly as he watched Joseph take a protective stance beside Ada. "I'm sorry, if I sounded ungrateful, sweetheart. I didn't mean to. I appreciate everything you've done for me. Thank you," he added sincerely.
Ada slanted a grateful glance at Joseph before returning Billy's smile. "You're very welcome, Billy. I do have one request, though."
His expression turned wary instantly. "Yeah?"
"I'd like to meet your Officer Chambers," she told him seriously, adding, "When you feel the time is right, of course."
Billy just gazed at her, surprised by the request. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," Ada confirmed. "I want to meet the woman who gave you the power to resist me."
He laughed a little at that, relaxing as he realized that she really was sincere in her desire to meet Rebecca. "You've got it, gorgeous. You two will always be welcome in my home, no matter who else happens to be there."
"Good," she said with obvious satisfaction. She glanced up at Joseph, who's handsome features had closed, and knew that he was thinking of his former comrades. "Perhaps, we'll wait for you to settle in before we pop in, though."
Billy looked at Joe and nodded vigorously. "That'd probably be better," he said hastily. "I'll make sure I keep a room or two open for you guys."
"Oh, I think one will enough," she drawled, smiling seductively as Joseph's red-gold eyes took on a gleam. "Don't you agree, Joseph?"
Joseph pushed thoughts of Jill and S.T.A.R.S. away, focusing on the woman who had given him a life of his own. "Oh, I agree," he murmured, lifting on hand to trace the lapel of her robe. "A second room would be completely wasted on us."
Oh, brother. "And on that note," Billy pushed himself out of the chair, "I'm out of here."
Ada laughed, the husky sound combining with Joseph's deeper chuckle, and Billy just shook his head. "Oh," he said, turning back to them, "I thought I'd ask about getting Sherry's identification. Any news on that front?"
Ada nodded, fully aware of why he was asking now. "Her new identity should be arriving with yours," she told him reassuringly.
He lifted one corner of his mouth in a faint half-smile. "Thanks, doll face. I owe you one."
She merely waved his words aside, even as they reminded her of his brother. She watched him leave the room, a sigh escaping her lips. As different as he and Hunk had been, there were moments when she saw flashes of the roughly charming mercenary in his younger, more sensitive brother. It made her miss Hunk all the more, as well as the unique relationship they had shared. Unlike Joseph or John, Hunk hadn't needed her. He had enjoyed her as she had been, selfish and conniving and ruthless. That kind of acceptance was all too rare, and she was well aware that she would probably never find another friend like him.
But he's dead, she reminded herself brutally. Hunk had died in the sewers of Raccoon City, and he wasn't coming back. Dwelling on it would only make things worse, and she knew better than to do that to herself.
Ada pushed those thoughts aside, forcing herself to concentrate on the world of the living. As she looked up at Joseph, she laughed inwardly at her own foolishness. While they were definitely alive, they had died once. It kind of gave her a whole new perspective on things.
She opened her mouth to speak when the phone rang. With another sigh, she grasped the receiver and brought it to her ear. "Spenser Residence."
"Wesker is going after the girl," Victor said without preamble.
Alarm shot through her his words. "How soon?" she asked calmly.
"He is assembling two mercenary units as we speak."
"Hmph." Ada tossed her dark head in silent defiance. "I'll take care of it, Victor. Thank you, for the warning."
"There's more, Lily."
Ada straightened in her chair. "Tell me," she entreated quietly.
"The government is watching Leon Kennedy, who I assume is still living with you?"
"Yes," she answered flatly, her mind racing as she began to make plans. "Are they ready to make their move?"
"Not yet. Apparently, they're waiting for an opportunity to get Kennedy alone before they make their 'offer'."
She smiled coldly into the mouthpiece. "I'll have to make sure they don't get such an opportunity, then."
"I'll leave it to you, my dear." There was a pause, and then, " I've done what I can to keep Wesker out of the actual fighting, but he doesn't like to follow orders. This may be a good time to test our newest acquisition, Lily. If he can stand against Wesker--"
"I'll consider it," she cut in, keeping her voice steady even as denial shot through her. Joseph was doing well in training, but he wasn't ready to fight his former commander. "For now, let me concentrate on hiring more security here at the estate. If you'll excuse me, Victor?"
"Of course, my dear. Do call and let me know how it goes."
The line went dead, and Ada replaced the receiver. She glanced up at Joseph, who was watching her with shimmering amber eyes, and managed a smile. "I have a few calls to make," she told him with genuine regret. "Urgent business that I must take care of."
Joseph scowled as he recognized the dismissal for what it was. He had heard the both ends of the conversation, and he wasn't happy about it. "I can take Wesker," he all but growled, his hands clenching into fists at his side.
"No," she said with such finality that he nearly howled with anger.
"Fine," he ground out abruptly. "I'll go amuse myself for a while. Just remember that we're partners, Ada," he added in warning. "Don't leave me out of the loop. If something happens, let me help you deal with it."
Ada studied him closely, relieved to see that while he was very angry, he was in control of himself. "Alright," she said at length. "If the situation deteriorates, I'll include you. But I want you to promise that you'll stay away from Wesker."
Joseph's scowl darkened at that. "Ada--"
She cut him off. "You're not ready, Joseph."
"The hell I'm not!" he argued in a rumble. "I've spent the nearly three months training for this. I am ready, Ada."
"No, you're not." Ada stood, no longer content to have him stand over her in a dominant position. "You can't best me yet, Joseph. You need more training, both in and out of the field. If you were to go against Wesker now, he would kill you, and that would ruin all of our plans."
He turned away, anger and disappointment burning their way through him. "All of your plans, you mean."
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." She made a frustrated sound and crossed her arms over her chest. "I have been working to bring Umbrella down for seven years, Joseph. I will have my revenge. If you want yours, you'll do exactly as I say. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I 'understand' you," he all but spat before stalking out of the room.
Ada stared after him with stark sapphire eyes. For the first time since meeting Joseph Frost, she was worried that she wouldn't be able to control him. If he went after Wesker, he would die. Neither of them were strong enough to defeat him. And if--by some miracle--they did manage it, they certainly wouldn't survive The Agency's retaliation. For now, Albert Wesker was sacrosanct. The moment that changed, she would send Joseph after him in all of his super-human glory. Until then. . .
She sighed heavily and resumed her seat. She had a lot to do if she was going to keep her promises to those she cared for.
-------------------------
Leon stirred, yawning as he realized that he had dozed off. He glanced around the opulent bedroom, frowning as his gaze landed on Claire. She was sitting at the vanity, her laptop open before her. Her cerulean eyes were locked on the screen, her expression one of grim determination. They had returned from their walk, intending to spend some quality time together, just the two of them. Instead, they had found an email from her brother waiting for them.
He sighed soundlessly, stretching as he pulled himself into a sitting position. A glance at the clock told him that that had been more than three hours ago. Claire had been attempting to trace the email to its source when he'd fallen asleep, and it looked as though she were no closer now. Still, he knew that she wouldn't give up. Her brother was more important to her than anything.
Unfortunately, that included them. He knew that she loved Sherry, and he wanted to believe that she loved him, too. But they took second place to the brother he had never met. He was beginning to think that he never would, either.
Leon chastised himself for his thoughts, but there it was. He no longer believed that Claire would return to them. He had held on for as long as he could, but her own behavior had forced him to face the truth. While she cared for him, she wasn't in love with him. She never had been.
He shut his eyes as pain ripped through his heart. He was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with him. First, his girlfriend had dumped him, then he had lost Ada, and now Claire was pulling away from. He had done everything he could to hold on to her, even going so far as to let her control him, in an effort to keep them together. It hadn't been enough, as was evident by the fact that he had gone to bed alone, while she had focused all of her considerable energy on finding her brother.
No more, Leon swore to himself. He was through being a doormat for the women in his life. Compromise worked both ways, damn it. He just hadn't managed to find a woman who would meet him halfway. They all thought that because he was a 'nice guy', that he was weak and easily controlled.
He wasn't.
Leon cursed under his breath and pushed himself to his feet. He ran a hand through his blond hair in an attempt to straighten it and headed for the door. He opened it and paused, glancing back over his shoulder. Claire was so intent on her search that she hadn't even noticed him, he thought as he quietly stepped into the hall. Further proof that she didn't really need him.
He padded through the large house morosely, making his way towards the library. Both Sherry and Billy spent a lot of time reading in there, and that was where Sherry said she'd be. He needed to check on her, to assure himself that she was okay. He hadn't liked sending her off on her own, but Claire had wanted to be alone with him.
And hadn't that turned out well, he thought caustically. He shook his head and entered the library, managing a smile as Sherry looked up from the book she was reading. Her own smile faded as she met his gaze, and he realized that he hadn't hid his feelings well enough.
"How's the book?" he asked in a deceptively light tone.
"It's good." Sherry watched as he dropped to the chair across from her, the same one Billy had occupied earlier. "Leon, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, honey." Her expression turned skeptical, and he shrugged. "Claire got an email from Chris. She's trying to trace it to the source."
She looked away from the pain in his clear blue eyes even as she fought her own. "She'll be leaving soon, won't she?"
Leon winced at the sorrow in her too-quiet tone. "Probably," he admitted, unwilling to lie to her.
"She'll come back, though." Sherry raised her head, her bright blue eyes meeting his own. "She said she would."
"I know, honey." He managed another unconvincing smile. "So, do want to go hit the game room? They've got a lot of stuff to do in there."
She glanced down at the book and carefully set it aside. "I'd like that, Leon."
He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her to her feet. "Anything in particular that you want to play?"
"Pool," she responded instantly.
He knew his surprise showed as he asked, "Why pool?"
"Billy plays a lot," she explained. "I watch him sometimes when you guys are. . .busy. He said something about how he used to play with his brother, and how he missed that. I thought you could teach me, and then I could play with him. Maybe, he wouldn't be so lonely, then."
Leon laughed warmly and squeezed her hand. "That's a great idea, Sherry. I like it. Maybe, we could both play with him."
"That would be fun, Leon." She smiled up at him trustingly, constantly amazed by how good a person he was. "Thank you, Leon."
He only shook his head and continued to walk, explaining the geometry behind the game. Sherry had no problem following him. In fact, she began to speak of all the possible combinations that could be made using just basic math. He listened and did his best to follow her, but he wasn't nearly that smart. Math had never been his strong suit.
They entered the game room to find Billy bent over the pool table, his cobalt eyes narrowed as he took a shot. He straightened, his expression reflecting boredom, as he watched the eight-ball sail into a side pocket. He noticed them and smiled, his fine features lighting up, as he realized that he had company.
"What's up?" he greeted, his smile dying as his gaze dropped to Sherry's. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," she answered with a sweet smile. "Leon going to teach me how to play pool."
Leon smiled crookedly at that. "I'm not very good, but I'll give it a try."
Billy nodded and set his cue on the table, none of his disappointment showing. "I'll leave you guys to it, then."
"You're not leaving, are you?" Sherry asked, disheartened. "I was hoping you'd play with us."
"Yeah?" He glanced at Leon, who nodded his tawny head vigorously, and shrugged once. "I'm game if you are."
"Thank God," Leon said with feeling. "I really do suck at this."
Billy laughed a little at that. "I do okay," he said modestly. "I'm not great, but I can play."
"Good." Sherry approached the table and began to pull balls out of the pockets. "So, you have to arrange the balls in a certain way, right?"
"Yep." Billy grabbed the triangular rack and set it on the table. He began to put the balls into place, explaining as he went. Leon watched as Sherry hung on his every word, her gamine features reflecting joy. From what she herself had told him, he knew that her parents hadn't spent much time with her. She was slowly coming out of her shell, forgetting to be shy as she spent more time around people.
And Billy was good with her, Leon thought. The other man might seem dangerous with that wild tattoo and caustic sense of humor, but he had turned out to be a very nice guy. While he was still a bit uncomfortable around Sherry, he knew how to talk to her without talking down to her. Even Claire had trouble doing that.
His lips thinned as he pushed thoughts of Claire aside. He was here to have fun with Sherry, not moon over his distant girlfriend, and dammitt, he was going to!
-------------------------
Claire gazed at the computer screen with rising excitement, her cerulean eyes wide as she realized just how close she was to finding her brother. She had traced the email to a server in Germany, but the nearly indecipherable list below that address told her that she had a long ways to go. Still, this was the closest she had come since first finding his diary in the S.T.A.R.S. office in Raccoon City, and she was stoked!
She couldn't believe that nearly six months had passed since they had last been together. This was the longest she had ever gone without contact from her big brother, and she was the first to admit that it had her freaked out. Since their parents' death five years ago, he had always kept in touch. Even when he'd been flying jets for the Navy, he had written and called on a regular basis.
No, there had been one time when the calls had stopped. That was after he had been dishonorably discharged from the Navy for punching that asshole commander of his. The guy hadn't liked Chris, and he'd been making rude comments about Jill just to piss him off. It had worked, and Chris was damned lucky he hadn't found himself spending the rest of his days in the stockade.
Instead, they'd kicked him out and sent him home, and he'd fallen apart. He hadn't known what to do with himself as a civilian, and she knew that he'd been worried about how he was going to support her. He'd drank a little then. Not too much, but enough to worry her. Then, he'd met Barry, and everything had changed.
Barry Burton had welcomed Chris into his home and made him a part of his family. She'd been in high school then, and she'd hated the thought of moving. But it had been worth it to see her brother pull himself together and return to normal. They'd been happy there, especially once Jill had found them.
Claire grinned at the memory. Jill had been in her Army B.D.U.'s, looking badass as only she could, as she'd coolly asked if Chris Redfield was there. The look on Chris' face when he saw her had been indescribable. He hadn't said a word, merely hugged her for all he was worth, all the while blinking back tears.
Things had been nearly perfect after that. Chris had pulled himself together and gotten a job with S.T.A.R.S. in Raccoon City, bringing Jill along for the ride. She had graduated high school and began college, not as Raccoon University, as Chris had wanted, but at the college in Arledale, two states away. They'd argued over her decision, but she'd liked the atmosphere at AR, while RU had been much too serious for her liking.
Boy, was she glad she'd stood her ground on that one! Claire thought with a shudder. While she had driven right into the outbreak in Raccoon, there had been no survivors in RU. Had she been on campus, she would be dead right now. Or worse, a soulless zombie. She'd seen the reports on CNN after they'd escaped the Umbrella lab, and she knew that she was damned lucky. Now, if that luck held, she'd find her brother, and introduce him to her new family.
Claire glanced at the bed, frowning slightly as she realized that Leon wasn't there. She looked around the room and was chagrined to realize that she hadn't even noticed his departure. She winced as she imagined just how mad he had to have been to leave without telling her. Leon might be a nice guy, but he had one hellova temper.
She made a frustrated sound and pushed away from the computer. Now, she'd probably have to kiss his ass to get back into his good graces, and she was not happy about it. Leon could be so damned stubborn when he wanted to. He just dug his heels in and insisted that he was right, no matter what. Even when he didn't argue with her, it was the same. He would get all quiet, his lips would thin into a flat little line, and he would sulk like a two-year-old. It drove her crazy.
But, she loved him, Claire thought with a sigh. Neither of them were perfect, after all. They both had to make compromises to make their relationship work, but in her eyes, it was worth it. She just had to find Chris, and everything would be all right. She was sure of it.
She wondered how Chris would react to the knowledge that his baby sister had steady boyfriend and a twelve-year-old daughter. He'd be worried, she knew. He had always been a little overprotective, but he would like Leon, and he would love Sherry. Who could resist a little girl with big blue eyes like that? Certainly not Chris Redfield!
She rose to her feet and stretched, grimacing as her backed popped loudly. She'd been at it a little too long, she thought with a sigh. No wonder Leon had wandered off. He'd probably been bored out of his mind, mot to mention a little hurt.
Claire sighed at that. After walking through the beautiful, expansive gardens of the estate, she'd wanted nothing more than to go back inside and jump Leon's bones. She'd been well on her way to doing so when she'd glanced at the laptop and saw email notice. Leon hadn't said a word in protest, he'd merely sat down on the bed to wait for her. That had been four hours ago.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered, echoing her brother's favorite epithet, and left the room in search of her family. She found them in the game room, shooting a game of pool with Billy Coen. Who else would it be? she asked herself bitingly. His brother's ex and her new boyfriend were never around. Hell, she'd hadn't even caught a glimpse of them in the three weeks they'd been there. Billy was always there, though, even when she didn't want him to be.
Which was most of the time, she was forced to admit. While he'd been nothing but kind to them, she still didn't trust him. The man was an escaped convict. Sure, he'd been reported dead by one of Chris' teammates, but he was a murderer. Even if he was innocent, she could tell that he had done time. She didn't want Sherry around someone like that. God only knew what kind of influence he'd be on such an impressionable young girl!
But as she watched him help Sherry make a rather difficult bank-shot, she had to admit that he was good with her. He was patient with her, never snapping, or upbraiding her when she questioned him. If it wasn't for the fact that he was still a little uneasy around her, Claire would think that he had a kid of his own stashed away somewhere.
Billy straightened, his dark blue eyes glinting as he noticed her. "Claire," he greeted evenly, nodding his dark head in acknowledgement.
"Billy," she returned as civilly as she could.
Sherry smiled hugely and gestured towards the table. "Did you see that, Claire?" she asked with obvious excitement. "I made it!"
"I sure did, sweetie." Claire dredged up a smile for her adopted daughter. "That was a great shot, Sherry. I'm impressed."
Sherry giggled, her big blue eyes shining happily. "I'm learning a lot from Billy. He's really good at this, Claire."
"Yeah, he is," Leon inserted, his too-blue eyes flashing with temper as he flashed her a nasty from behind his pool cue. "You should stick around, Claire. You might learn a few things."
She shot him a dark look even as she hid her surprise. She'd known that he'd be pissed, but she hadn't imagined that he'd go on the offense like this. It wasn't like Leon to start anything in front of other people; hell, it wasn't like him to start a fight, period. Not purposely, at any rate.
"Maybe, I will," she responded, tossing her auburn head in a defiant gesture. "There was a game room on-campus at AU. I got pretty good at this."
Figures, Leon thought disgruntledly. Aloud, he only said, "You should play Billy, then. He's the expert here."
Billy snorted at that, well aware that Leon wasn't too pleased by his girlfriend's sudden appearance, but more than willing to play along. "I'm no expert," he drawled lazily, "but I'd be more than happy to give it a go. You game, honey?"
Claire's brilliant blue eyes narrowed fractionally on his even as she tried to her dislike hidden for Sherry's sake. "I'm game," she stated confidently. "Rack 'em up, Jarhead."
Billy stiffened, surprised and not too happy at what was a common, derogatory nickname for a Marine. Usually, it came from someone who was Army, not a smart-mouthed wannabe biker babe fresh out of college. "You got it, little girl. Where'd you learn the jargon, by the way?"
She smiled wickedly. "My brother's best friend was an Army Ranger before she joined S.T.A.R.S.," she informed him smugly. "I learned a lot from Jill."
He made a rude sound as he racked the balls, wondering if this was the same Jill that Joseph had lost. "Rangers are all crazy, you know," he threw out casually, hoping for a reaction.
"Yeah?" she questioned with a shrug. "I hear the same thing about Marines."
Billy smiled a little at that. "You have no idea," he said, his voice very dry as he stepped away from the table. "You break."
Claire marched over to the rack on the wall and chose a cue. She laid it on the table to test its balance. It rolled smoothly from side to side and she chalked the tip, satisfied that she was about to kick this jerk's ass. She bent over the table, balancing the cue on her curled hand, and took her shot.
The balls spread out over the table evenly, but she didn't drop even one. She scowled at the delighted smile Billy was wearing as he rounded the table to take his first shot. He sunk it with ease, and moved on to the next. It dropped into a side pocket, and she groaned silently. This might be a quick game, but it was going to be a long night!
-------------------------
Chris stood hunched over the blueprints of the bank, his navy eyes narrowed fiercely in concentration. The others were sleeping, with the exception of Carlos, who had taken the second watch. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd pulled out the plans in an effort to distract himself. So far, he'd come up with several alternate scenarios for the mission, but he didn't like any of the available escape routes. There were two main streets, one behind and one in front of the bank, but the rest were all narrow alleyways. It would be child's play hard for Umbrella forces to trap them in any one of them.
He had considered using the small scooters he'd seen all over France since his arrival, but had quickly discarded the idea. Sure, they were small and would be easy to maneuver, but he didn't like the idea of the five of them separating. It would easier to catch them if they split up, after all. There best bet would be to stay together, where they could combine their firepower, if it came down to a gunfight.
Besides, he would have had to steal the bikes and go through the hassle of replacing the license plates on all of them, which meant that he would have had to steal those, as well. He'd never been a thief, and he wasn't going to start now. He'd just have to come up with another way. Preferably, one that wouldn't get them all killed.
It was bad enough that they would be separated while covering the bank itself. He himself had found an excellent vantage point on the roof of the building directly across from the bank. It was an older building, only two stories high, so he would be able to cover the bank's interior too. Of course, if the glass was bulletproof, it wouldn't matter anyway. Still, he felt better knowing that he would be able to monitor Jill and Carlos firsthand, instead of waiting for a radio communication that might not come. At least this way, he'd be able to alert the others if there was a problem, and they would be able to enter the bank and offer back-up.
Tomorrow, they would all don the civilian clothes they'd bought at a second-hand store and inspect the area in person. Then, he'd have a better idea of what the surrounding area truly looked like, and he'd be able to plan accordingly.
Which made what he was doing now absolutely useless, Chris thought with a disgusted sigh. He began to fold the blueprints, scowling as the paper crinkled loudly. He was nervous about this mission, simply because there was so much that could go wrong. They were in enemy territory, already marked as outsiders by their American accents. Carlos was the only one who spoke French fluidly, but one look at him told the world that he was not a native Frenchman.
Chris sighed again as he tucked the blueprints into his survival pack. He could only hope that the younger man's belief that Umbrella didn't know about his off-shore account was correct. If he was wrong, and they had flagged the account, he and Jill would never make it out of the bank.
And he was worrying about things that he couldn't possibly change, Chris reprimanded himself. He was borrowing trouble, as his mother had used to say, and he knew better. You had to take life as it came, dodging what it threw at you, or you'd worry yourself into an early grave. He knew that they were probably still being watched by Umbrella operatives. He had no idea why they hadn't sent anyone for them, but it was only a matter of time before they did. He had no intention of letting any of his unit--his family--be taken prisoner. As he had done in the Spenser Mansion, he would plow his way through whatever Umbrella threw at him, and he would survive. Just as his comrades would. There was simply no other alternative.
At least, his sister was safe, Chris reminded himself. He had kept her in the dark and far away from Umbrella's madness. She had no idea what her big brother had gone through in July, or what he was going through now. God willing, she never would. As much as he missed his willful sibling, he was glad that he managed to keep her safe. He had at least done that much.
Chris shook his head and went to his bedroll, hoping that now, he would be able to sleep. They had a long trek ahead of the in the next few days, and he needed to be prepared for it. As he closed his eyes, he prayed that he would be.