Chapter 18

Ada pulled away from Leon's apartment building just as the police arrived. She tried to drive as fast as she could without pealing the wrecked vehicles tires, but her foot did push a little harder on the accelerator as she actually saw the flashing red and blue lights begin to glow around the corner. The lights lingered as she turned a corner, but the sirens cut off abruptly as she put distance between them. They were stopping at the apartment, and it sounded like none of them had seen her.

Between driving, trying to stop some of her bleeding cuts, and trying to decide what to do next, the car moved a little erratically. Everything still felt sore, her head throbbed, and the pain in her side made her want to bite her tongue in an effort to not scream.

The message on the phone had said one hour. She didn't know what that meant entirely, but guessed that it meant the assassin was to report in after an hour. That meant she had a little under an hour before they realized something was wrong. Of course, that was assuming the assassin struck when he got the message, and assuming that she was right in the first place. Too much assuming for her taste.

Make sure Leon is safe, she prioritized. They were targeting him, not you.

…except that Leon was at the GSA. She couldn't walk through the front door and expect to get the message that he was being targeted while being tackled by security, let alone catching a mole's bullet. She tried the number in her PDA she contacted him earlier with, but it went straight to an automated message saying that it was deactivated, likely after her breach in security.

Think rationally. Provided he was doing something at their headquarters, in a government office, chances were that he was probably safe. Unless they're desperate. Then it doesn't matter where he is.

Ada resisted the urge to act on passion, instead trying to think tactically. One lone government agent wasn't worth as much as that data. They'd realize the hit on him failed, but they would still have the data. Mission accomplished. She needed to get to Hunnigan before they did.

Except there was one stupid, fatal flaw with that plan. She had no idea where Leon's partner lived.

A phone booth was briefly illuminated in the one working headlight of Leon's Jeep, and she slammed on the brakes. Sure enough, when she got out and looked inside it, there was a phonebook. She quickly thumbed to the H section.

"Shit!" she hissed. There were a dozen 'Hunnigans' of various spellings, some with two n's, others with one. There were three Ingrids, two of which were married, one single.

She racked her memory one what she knew of Hunnigan. Other than being a person of low priority to the organization, she was mostly data acquisition and analysis. She couldn't recall if there was any type of spouse, or if she had been dating someone and later got married.

Think…government agent…long nights, lots of classified information…probably doesn't get out much…

It had to be the single Hunnigan. Ada memorized that address, then flipped to the back of the book, finding a few maps of the DC residential areas. It was hard to find out where she lived by squinting through dim light on a tiny map, but she managed to locate the address. After glancing to the street signs on the corner, she was able to get a general sense of where to go, and how long it was going to take to get there. There was only going to be one shot, with the clock ticking as it was. For all she knew, Hunnigan could already have a bullet in her head.

Back in the Jeep, Ada floored it, dialing the phone number with her other hand. The line continued to ring, then went to an answering machine. It was either a good sign or a very bad sign. Maybe Hunnigan had decided to review the data at the GSA office. If that was the case, she and the data were probably safe. If she was at home, and not picking up in the middle of the night…

The trip didn't take her long with no traffic and not stopping at any of the red lights. The edge of the city where Leon lived gradually turned suburban, rows of apartment buildings turning to gridded streets of houses with lawns. She let up on the gas as the correct street approached, not wanting to cause a commotion as she barreled down the darkened street.

The street was dark, save for the light that dotted it. It was a simple residential neighborhood, a little on the pricey side. Ada parked the car on the corner, checked the magazine of her gun, then moved the rest of the way on foot. Hunnigan lived close to the center of the block, so she had to hoof it the rest of the way.

As she stole along the shadows between streetlights, she kept her eyes up and alert, feeling very exposed. They might have someone watching the place with a night vision scope, and as soon as they saw her, things would get heated fast. With only her handgun against an unknown number of equally trained agents likely carrying better firepower, her chances weren't good.

Hunnigan's house came into view, a simple single story house with a small porch. The lawn was cut, and the outside looked pretty well-maintained for a data officer in the GSA. The entire house was dark, and looked untouched, and she began to dismay. It was the wrong house, had to be.

—except when she looked closer, the front door had a dark strip running along the frame. Then she realized that it wasn't a strip; the door was ajar.

She couldn't see anything from her current hiding spot, a low hedge on the neighbor's lawn. There were no cars parked out in front. No movement in the shadows she could see. Everything was still as peaceful as it should have been in the middle of the night. It didn't sit well with her, but lacking both the equipment for a better reconnaissance as well as the time, she pressed forward, drawing her Beretta and keeping it on the door.

Her senses tingled, dulled by the overdose of pills she took, and despite that, the pain in her ribs still throbbed persistently. Ada pushed the pain aside, staying low and ready as she darted to the door. The sliver that was open revealed nothing but complete blackness, but the lock and latch were still intact. Not the quota of the assassin she had dealt with. Gun up in both hands and ready to clear, she nudged the door open with the toe of her boot. It gave way almost silently, and she slipped inside.

At first, she was once again certain that she had the wrong house as she nudged the door back to its original position. All of the lights were off, the only sound being a faint clock ticking away in another room. Her eyes adjusted slowly, revealing a marginally decorated foyer, a door to her right giving a small glimpse of a refrigerator, and an open doorway to her left looking into a living room. The foyer itself stretched a little further back, towards another door that presumably led to the back yard.

She stepped further into the foyer, clearing the back door. It was still shut, and she could just make out a locking chain across it. The clock continued to tick-

—only Ada frowned, as there was something definitely audible beneath the sound of the ticking. Then, she heard it again. It was a low thump, followed by a rustling sound.

She stepped towards the living room, keeping her footsteps as silent as possible. Fortunately, the floor was carpeted, and on top of what felt like a harder stone surface. No floorboards creaked or groaned under her weight, but almost in the absolute stillness, even the sounds of her soles grazing the carpet sounded loud. She brushed up against the door, turned the corner—

—and nearly walked right into a figure standing just inside the living room. Ada nearly fired out of reflex, but instead stumbled back when she realized his back was turned to her. Her adrenaline spiked, and for a brief instant, she could see everything bright as day; most notably the gun in his hand.

She caught her breath once around the corner again. By some miracle, he hadn't heard her during her approach, and she had been almost close enough to reach out and touch him. Once she steadied herself, she was about to step back out and neutralize him, but then she heard voices, like the noise, barely audible.

"…either very hard, or very easy for you." It was male, speaking softly from what sounded like two rooms over. "Hard…by one slowly break your fingers…or give us access right now…way, a bullet in your skull."

There was a muffled grunt, followed by what sounded like a pained whimper. Ada set her teeth. She hadn't beaten the agents sent to kill Hunnigan, but she hadn't missed them either. It sounded like they caught her in the middle of a late night, but somehow, she managed to hide the information or lock it away. It sounded like they were trying to squeeze it out of her, and she was resisting.

A quiet thump hit her ears, followed by another squeal, then more shuffling. She pressed her back against the wall, bringing both hands to her gun. There were at least two; the one she almost bumped into, and the one beating Hunnigan. But there was no way of knowing whether or not there was a third, or maybe even a fourth. It seemed like overkill for an agent like Hunnigan, but she had no way of knowing how they were operating. Hell, maybe there had been two more in the other room and she hadn't even noticed it because of the first one.

Just going sit here and let them torture and execute her? She asked herself. Or better yet, let the one on the other side of the wall suddenly walk in on you?

She needed to move fast. There was no way she was going stay hidden in the same house as the assassins. Hunnigan wasn't going to last forever, and as soon as she gave in, she was dead.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, beneath a small table next to her. She recognized a long body, crouched to the floor, and a pair of pointed ears. It was a tabby cat. Ada stared back at its piercing glare, but the tabby drew a low hiss and held its ground. There was a shifting sound in the living room, a curious footfall in her direction—

—and she lunged around the corner, gun up, and put three quick shots into the chest of the first thug. The muzzle flare briefly illuminated the room, and another figure in the corner was visible, raising his own gun. She turned at the waist, the pain in her ribs numb, and didn't stop her charge to the only other door in the room. Two more rounds discharged from her gun off as he fired, but his shot went over her shoulder. He dropped as they exited his back, and Ada braced herself as she lowered her shoulder—

—crash. She was through the door. Unfamiliar surroundings, but only one hostile, stooping over a figure on the floor. He was already turning towards her, but she aimed down the sights even as she stumbled from the impact. He caught two rounds in the chest and fell over dead.

The momentum from her charge was almost enough to throw her over the twin-sized bed that she ran into, and she was just able to maintain her footing to sweep her gun across the dark room. No one but her was standing. The pain returned, and she let out a low growl, one hand reflexively twitching to nurse the spot on her side.

She went back to check the first two bodies in the living room to make sure they were dead, then the third in the bedroom before she examined Hunnigan. Her wrists, ankles, and mouth were taped over, but other than a black eye, and a trickle of blood from her nose, she was alert and conscious. Her brunette hair was done up in a scrunchy, and she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a bulky T-shirt. A pair of reading glasses lay smashed and twisted a few feet away. From a spilled cup of coffee on the desk next to a laptop, it looked like she was either planning or in the middle of an all-nighter when the assassins attacked.

When Ada drew close, she squinted, and then her eyes went wide when she recognized her.

"Were there only three?" Ada said tersely, trying to watch all of her blindspots. There was a window, blinds pulled, a door that probably led to a closet, then the way back to the living room. Hunnigan didn't answer, and she impatiently shook her shoulder. "You saw three, right?"

She nodded with a muffled mm-hmm, and Ada relaxed a hair. That didn't mean there wasn't a fourth one lurking around, but it sounded like she had gotten them all. After listening for a minute, over the noises Hunnigan was making, she didn't hear anything, but to be safe, she gave the house one last sweep, then checked the pockets of the corpses.

The first two had pre-paid cell phones that looked like they hadn't been used. No recent calls or texts showed up when she searched them. As she checked the third in the bedroom, Hunnigan squirmed next to her, letting out a hopeful sound.

"Sorry sweetheart," she said, rummaging. "I can't untie you, and the police will be here shortly. You'll just have to sit and be quiet for now."

Hunnigan let out a frustrated groan and kicked the side of her desk with her bound feet. Ada ignored her.

The third thug had a better phone; similar to her own PDA, in fact. Anxiously, she checked it, and sure enough, the text she recovered from the first assassin at Leon's was sitting in the outbox.

Satisfied, she opened the back, dumped the battery, and pulled out the SIM card. The tiny computer chip was the gem she had been searching through ever since the hunt for Crow and Wesker began. If it wasn't one of them directly that ordered the assassins, it had to be someone higher up on the ladder, and the chip would point her straight to them.

The sound of police sirens began to rise for the second time. The local cops were certainly earning their stripes tonight. A total of four bodies in two separate places, and it hadn't even been an hour.

She thought about taking Hunnigan's laptop for the data, but she would be dealing with the same issue the assassins couldn't breach. Plus, that would only make her a bigger target for Crow if she had Spencer's data. It was better left in the hands of the BSAA and the GSA. She didn't have any use for it. Not anymore.

"Hey," she said to Hunnigan, still fruitlessly trying to get herself free. "Once the cops get here, you need to tell Leon that he's been targeted. They were waiting for him at his apartment. Understand? They're after the data and anyone close to it. They still have someone inside the agency."

She wanted to add on a 'tell him I'm alright,' but Leon would figure that out when Hunnigan warned him. It also would have been awkward, and she didn't want to incriminate Leon with the fact that they were in a relationship.

Obviously confused, Hunnigan stared back at her for a moment, then blinked and nodded tentatively.

Ada turned and ran as fast as her ribs would allow back to the Jeep on the corner and disappeared before the police arrived. It was time to go on the offensive; Crow had sent his dogs out to take Leon out. That meant they were getting closer, or at least that they had drawn enough attention that he needed to take action.

Only now he had gotten sloppy. All she had to do was follow the address on the dog's leash back to its master.