II

Of Success and Plans

'Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it.' Andre Gide

How long had it been since she had seen her? How long since she had heard her voice calling her name ever so gently?

She didn't have the time to be thinking about that. Right now, there were much more important matters at hand, like finishing the many projects she had started. They had taken long to be set into motion and she didn't intend to waste time on unnecessary matters like wondering about past events and reflecting on the past. The present and the future were what mattered now, nothing else.

She browsed through the files that were neatly stacked on her desk, her brow creasing gradually. Her current project was turning out quite nicely but it presented a few anomalies, which she wasn't too keen on. It bothered her to see that he, her actual project, was unnaturally complicated and breakthroughs were very scarce lately. Although she couldn't complaint; things could've gone worse.

She sighed, gazing at her watch. It was late, almost eleven thirty in the night, and she couldn't avoid a sad, faint smile. Her expression softened momentarily, allowing her mind to drift and focus on the image of an amiable blond man, flashing a smile at her, a gesture which was almost unnatural in him. She had to shake the thought away and regain her composure when someone knocked at her door and, with a dull 'Come in', she allowed him inside.

The person who entered the room was a man in his early thirties, with short black hair and grey eyes which reflected his anxiety and uneasiness. She had a knack for intimidating people but come on, what was wrong with her? She certainly wasn't a viper that would bite at the slightest of provocations, so why the fear? Possibly, it was an inherited trait.

"Yes, James, what is it?" she asked evenly, folding her hands on the table. James stepped forward and handed her a folder with a couple of files inside in a somewhat ginger way.

"This is the latest report, miss. There's… there's been breakthrough. The subject's conscious, miss Birkin," he spoke with anxiousness and urgency, and she shot up from her seat.

"Conscious? Are you sure?!" she questioned with the same anxiousness as him, but also rejoicing. Her blue eyes lightened up with hope, and James allowed himself a small smile in return. She did the same as him, a smile lightening up her beautiful features, and both she and James made their way to the main laboratory.

It was time her efforts paid off. Sherry Birkin got what she wanted.

xx

The following morning, Chris and Jill checked his in-box for that e-mail Oliver Graves, one of the Original Eleven, had sent them yesterday. Whilst Jill prepared two hot cups of coffee, Chris sat in front of his HP laptop and, after several seconds, his in-box and the list of unread e-mails -which was quite big- appeared on his screen. In that moment, Jill stepped outside the kitchen, cups in hand, and sat in a chair beside him.

"Okay, let's see what we're up to," he uttered with a sigh. As he clicked on Graves' message, he sipped his coffee and he found just a small message that said:

Chris, the mission is top-secret. I've uploaded the briefing to the server; use the password below and I'll contact you.

"Top-secret? I don't like this..."

Unconsciously, Jill strengthened the grip on her mug, her knuckles acquiring a soft white colour. For some reason, she had the feeling this was the start of what she had feared and that it would only develop into something worse. She bit her lip and frowned. Her uneasiness spiked when Chris was finished following Graves' instructions and several windows popped up promptly, as much as her cell phone rang.

Speechless, she sprung to her feet and retrieved her phone from the table at the entrance hall. Once she put it on speaker, Graves' low and vibrant voice filled the room they were in.

"G'morning Chris, Jill."

"Morning, sir," she said in return, "So, what's this all about?"

Graves took a moment to reply, "Well, I told you the mission was top-secret, right? And believe me, I'm not kidding: if the Consortium finds out about this, the BSAA is screwed and, per ende, you two and me, so listen carefully.

"Whilst I was going over the files we found at Tricell's database, I found out that the company still has its ties to the government, hence why they haven't taken any kind of action against the new Tricell yet. I have the gut feeling that Gionne is either bribing the bosses in charge, has an infiltrated agent or, what could be worse, it's both. If that agent's been here for long, it's very possible he's in the BSAA right now; I don't know in which branch though. Proof of this is that we should've gotten information about recent deals three weeks ago and, whilst we did get it, it was completely wrong: we were left both blind and deaf, and the deals were carried out successfully."

"Shit..."

Graves chuckled. "You got it, Chris. Now, on to the big deal: if it happens he has the agent in the Alliance and we take action immediately, Gionne's going to suspect something's cooking and the government, because of his influence, would make the Alliance kick the bucket; it'd be on the fritz in the nick of time and we can't allow that. What we're going to do is this. Chris, check the file that says '61INPL'."

Chris did as told. He and Jill found the map of a building and a profile on someone, someone by the name of Vasily Ivanov.

"Vasily Ivanov?" he read out loud, focusing on his picture.

"Yeah, that's the guy we're goin' after. He's a black-market dealer closely related to Irving; they were very good friends and they normally operated together, sharing the benefits fifty-fifty. I found that he's got another deal in his agenda involving Uroboros, one that's gonna take place tomorrow, at 1900 hours local time in Naples, Italy. I've enclosed the place's map and layout, check it out with care," Graves replied.

"The building's underground?" asked Chris once he and Jill examined it thoroughly.

"Not at all; that's a map of the subbasement, just in case you need it. You'll make it through a back door, very well concealed. Since the building is a warehouse, be very careful."

"Is this part of the strategy to keep the mission 'top-secret'?" intervened Jill, glancing at the phone and expecting a convincing answer.

"Yes, because I'm about to tell you about the difficult part. Our objective is to arrest Ivanov as stealthily as possible. Ivanov also has his connections to Gionne and if he finds out we're behind the operation, as I said before--"

"We'd kick the bucket. Gionne would manage to turn the operation against us and, with the influence, have everything play on his favour," said Jill with a nod. "What about this mole you suspect he has in the Alliance?" she asked then.

"That's the other thing that's bothering me, Jill," Graves replied with a tinge of uneasiness. "I'm still waiting for authorization from the European branch to operate within their jurisdiction, but they've already told me that they're sending in another agent to assist you. I don't know why, but I suspect this agent is going to be the mole; it wouldn't surprise me if it was. He'd try to know about you as much as possible so that he gets the information to Gionne. Have in mind that this is all hypothetical, it's mere speculation. Don't share this information with anyone within the Alliance; we'd be in deep shit if word got out."

"We'd better watch out then. I'll let Jill do the talking, I'll do the observation," said Chris, shooting Jill a sideways glance and a smirk. "Who's this guy you're talking about?" he then inquired, crossing his arms.

"Eric Olsen."

"I've heard about him before," said Jill, blinking twice. "He made it into the Alliance in 2004, right? He was the popular rookie at that time. He's in the European branch."

"Oh, man... Well, thank goodness we have your memory, Valentine," Graves complimented good-naturedly, and she could imagine him smirking.

"So this makes him much more suspicious," Chris reasoned, "and we'd have two people to arrest instead of one if things got bad. If this Eric Olsen is going to be our next partner and if he's indeed related to Gionne, then I guess we'll have Marco breathing on our necks. Eric's going to be just like his second pair of eyes."

"He was the popular and bastardly rookie, don't forget about that," interjected Graves with a snort. "Your orders are simple: bust the party and get Ivanov before he gets to the building tomorrow. Olsen told me it'd be best if you met him in Philadelphia, at the airport, and he requested that you are there as soon as possible, so it's got to be for today."

"It's still early..."

"That wasn't a complaint, wasn't it, Redfield?" Graves snapped, a cool edge to his voice.

"Not at all, sir, I was just thinking..." Chris replied. "We could be ready for eleven in the morning today; know of any flights that get you to Philly that early in the morning?"

"Not really, although you really don't think you'll be going via normal plane?" his superior said with a looser tone.

"I didn't think so," smirked Jill. Graves also chuckled over the phone.

"You'd do the following: meet Olsen at Philadelphia and then head to Naples from there. There'll be a plane waiting for you at PHL. You'll be in Italy between 3 and 4 pm local time there, alright? Try to sleep in the plane just in case."

"Got that, Graves.

"We'd have from four to three hours to get ready?" asked Jill, lifting her eyebrows. "Man, you guys are in a rush."

"Considering we screwed up a few weeks ago, I guess this is the way to make it up to the people," snapped Graves. "Everything is accounted for: schedule is set, the reservations are made and you only need to approach the boarding gates and state your names for them to let you in. Some identification would suffice, too."

"Effective!" exclaimed Chris with a smirk. "Okay, then. So the deal involves Uroboros, it's to take place in Naples and tomorrow the 22nd, correct?"

"Yes. If for some reason Ivanov manages to escape, there will be a team of snipers as support to give chase. We can't let him get away. The building's near Piazza Dante, 'Largo del Mercatello' street," Graves told them.

"These guys in Italy seem confident."

"We shouldn't let it get to our heads, though," Jill piped up, raising her index finger. "We can't guarantee they don't have any kind of monster lying around there as a method of security. It's mere speculation, but we shouldn't discard the possibility."

"They wouldn't be as stupid as to let something on the loose, Jill," Chris argued with a frown. "Although it's not as reckless as it sounds, really. It might not be a BOW what they have as a defence system, but the agent that creates them itself."

Jill cringed inwardly when she heard Chris' suggestion and she knew he could also be right. What it if was the T-virus or some other of the strains?

"An outbreak there would be too much for them to handle. Besides, it's just a deal. Don't misunderstand me, the deal's pretty important itself, but you know they can't control the BOWs," Graves returned, but then Chris made a blunt gesture with his hand, signalling the end of the discussion.

"End of discussion, people. If we keep this up, we won't be able to concentrate on what we have to deal with. Let's hope our predictions are all wrong, but let's also hope it's nothing worse," he said firmly, but Jill could see how that determination veiled the doubt behind his eyes. He was right though: speculation would do nothing towards the matter.

"It surprises me you can put an end to this kind of conversations, Redfield," intervened Graves, allowing himself a bit of humour. "Anyway, you should get ready. I'll give the guys at Europe a call, alright? I'll tell 'em you'll be there tomorrow first thing in the morning."

"Alright, much appreciated," nodded Jill.

"I'll keep in contact in case somethin' else comes up, 'kay? Be- Oh, shit..."

"Sir, what's wrong?" Chris piped up, stiffening. Graves sighed.

"They won't grant the authorization you need... Well, you got some news: for the first time in these six years I've been in the BSAA, I'm going to make them stick the authorization up a place we all know."

"Wait a sec. A higher-up skipping regulations?" Jill smirked, amused.

"You heard me," Graves confirmed, "I don't care about authorizations: this is Uroboros we're talking about and I'm not going to risk it. There, now you have another reason why you should keep this mission a secret. I'll call these guys at Europe, as I said before, to say that we agree; let's see how they handle it. On the other side, you're going in, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Be careful guys; we're counting on ya."

Graves hung up, leaving Chris and Jill in an uncomfortable silence. Jill glanced at him, watching him frown pensively and drop his gaze. She felt her fair share of uneasiness but, for some reason, it was affecting Chris much more. Of course, one mistake and Uroboros would be spread through the world, and it wouldn't take long for it to plunge Naples into chaos in the first place! She knew though that Chris, aside from being worried about the virus, was also worried about its creator, Albert Wesker. The knot in her stomach she already had strengthened when he spoke.

"I hope he hasn't come back."

"It couldn't be, Chris. You yourself killed him," Jill said in a soothing tone, but she herself wasn't too convinced of her own words. Chris sighed, closing his eyes.

"I know that," he insisted with a shaky nod, "but I can't help doubting what saw sometimes. Maybe it's because I still can't believe the fight against Wesker is over or... I don't know, Jill, I don't know."

Jill didn't know what to say next; she'd also had that feeling before. She lowered her head, looking away, and she gave out a low sigh, almost inaudible.

"Sorry about that, I'm a bit paranoid and I don't know why," Chris said with a shake of his head. Jill smiled faintly.

"Oh, come on, don't apologize," she replied. "I guess it's the same for me; can't help being paranoid sometimes. We'll make it through, you know that. You're the one that's always optimistic about this, so it's my turn to say something now."

Chris made a vague noise of agreement with another faint smile, but he didn't turn his head to look at her. His stubbornness was only making things worse: how to convince himself of his actions in Africa? How to tell himself he had done it, that Wesker was dead? The dead didn't come back to life, didn't they?

That was such a bad joke, and it only made Chris cringe inwardly. The dead didn't come back to life, yes; that only happened in horror movies. Only horror movies explained the resurrections with viruses or by some kind of supernatural phenomenon. Chris had fought them himself, so there was no way to think it was a movie or fiction.

But if his life itself wasn't a horror movie, then what was it?

Unconsciously, he sighed and ran his hands through his dark hair. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, biting his lip. That bad presentiment of his wasn't going to leave him alone, not any time soon.

'We'll make it through...'

How he wished what Jill had said was true...

xx

July 20th, 2009

STATUS REPORT: 'Project 1960/013'.

Date of initiation: March 13th, 20XX

Date of completion: July 20th, 20XX.

Subject: Name unspecified.

Viral agents: G-virus Beta stain Gb847, PG/013.

Injection result: Successful.

Condition: Bonding process successful. Serum A-PG/013 to be administered regularly during initial phases of adaptation, which can cause instability. Beta Hetero Nonserotonin levels stable and under 7% of the expected 14%.

Subject status:Alive.