The Long Dark

XI.

A Tangled Web

Back in Nome, Leon was pacing the rented room where Kat was smoking and speaking rapid Russian into the tiny phone she held.

When he paced too close, she slid her hand up the inside of his thigh with a flutter of her lashes. He side-stepped and had her licking her lips with amusement as she fired off something at her contact on the line.

This is how it always was with Kat. She cooed, she flirted, and she played the role of a wily minx to perfection. Leon thought, with a measure of irony, to be in the spy trade, you had to have a touch of masochism inside of you. Like Ada, Kat was good at plying her skills to men to get the desired results. Sadly, for Kat, she had yet to master the game, as well as Ada.

Ada knew when to push him and when to back off. Kat? She'd always pushed too far, too fast, and too hard. As if she thought needling him would net her a burst of emotion, she'd yet to unveil. The night they'd met, Kat had held him at gunpoint after they'd danced together and teased him while they waited for her backup to arrive. She'd become intrigued when he'd stood there, stoically, unwilling to flirt in return.

She'd mused, "You flirted all night. Why stop now?"

To which he'd replied, "I was acting then. The curtains down, darlin. I don't have to pretend to like you anymore."

Her eyes had sparkled happily as she'd laughed, "No? You don't find me beautiful?"

He'd tilted his head like a curious dog, "Beauty is a dime a dozen, sweetheart. I can toss a smile on any corner anywhere in the world and reel in a pretty girl, and I don't waste my time just because you're gorgeous. And it sure as hell isn't enough to get me to hand over intel."

"No? I heard you've been known to do just that," she smiled sweetly, "In fact, didn't I hear you are more than happy to offer up your dignity for a little affection?"

Leon had snorted. "Whatever I hand over, I give in fair trade." They'd listened to her men's arrival while she studied him. After a moment, he'd mused, "You can hand me over to your boys there. Sure. But we both know I'll never talk. Torture aside, I've survived way worse than anything you've got cooking in that head of yours. And considering what I know and what you want, I'd think you'd be more interested in trading than playing games."

They'd spent the night dancing, flirting, and learning from all the other patrons at the ball they'd attended. When they'd both broken free of the party to pursue the vault in the basement, she'd managed to get the drop on him. Honestly, it was his fault. He'd known the Russians had a plant in the party, but he'd overlooked Kat on the sheer principle that she was good at what she did. She'd played the simpering doe-eyed female to perfection.

He'd written her off as a hooker paid by the higher-ups to elicit information from the male guests through sex and pillow talk. A paid professional, sure, but not the kind sent there to raid a vault holding samples of the T-Avian Virus.

It seemed he was constantly underestimating women in his profession. He'd probably eat a bullet before he began to see them as threats and not as something pretty and exploited.

Kat had eyed him and lowered her weapon. She'd stepped forward and dropped the flirting and cooing. The cool look she'd leveled at him had his brows flying up as she remarked, "I need the codes to this vault, and I know you have them. Give them to me, and you go free. Deny me, and I send you away to test that tough guy attitude and see if it holds up to such big talk."

Leon had leaned in and returned, "I need the thumbprint you scammed off Bergosi up there."

Her eyes twinkled as she cooed, "Oh, I know. Side by side, then?"

He'd lined himself up at the keypad, and she'd moved to the fingerprint scanner. When the vault opened, she gave the order to her men to stand down. They'd cased the vault, found the samples, and split them. She'd tucked hers into a lipstick case that was compressed with cold air, and he'd put his in a cigarette case that doubled as the same.

As they'd exited the vault, she'd said, "I could still turn you in."

Leon had just laughed. "You could. But I'm guessing you don't know about the fail-safe."

The alarms had gone off. She'd blinked. He'd backed up three paces and shrugged, "Ten seconds before the gas hits, sweetheart. You might want to run for it."

He grabbed her purse, which snapped free in his hand, giving him both samples.

She'd surged for him, he'd surprised the hell out of her by hitting the trigger on a grapple gun that would have made Ada proud, and he'd zipped up to the second-floor landing as she grabbed his jacket. He'd slipped through her hands like butter. To prove he wasn't a complete bastard, he'd tossed her a gas mask as he landed and called, "Run."

The doors had sprung open behind her as she'd taken flight, and he'd returned to the party as if nothing had happened.

When he returned to his hotel room, he reached into his jacket pocket and found his cigarette case missing. The wily minx had stolen it like a professional pickpocket. Impressed, he'd been waiting when his room phone had rung, and she'd remarked, "You took my lipstick."

He'd just laughed, "You took my cigarettes."

The seconds ticked as Kat finally sighed, "So maybe we work together in the future."

He'd just replied, "Fair trade."

"...maybe. Or maybe I want you to yearn for me. Don't you know...women want men to chase them...not run from them."

He'd still been chuckling when she'd hung up, and he'd snorted, "...women."

But they'd worked together twice more when their paths crossed. She was always trying to get into his pants, sure, but he doubted she really wanted him. It was more the challenge she enjoyed. The harder he resisted, the more she plied on the charm. When the charm failed, she pricked his pride or pushed his buttons.

She was, as always, a pain in the ass - but working with her always netted results.

So, he tolerated her games.

When she hung up on her contact, she lifted the coffee to her lips as she flicked ashes off her cigarette and teased, "Relax, Leon. Relax. I will have the name and location for us soon."

She offered him a cigarette, and he waved it away with a flick of his hand that had Kat smirking, "What? No more vices, then? Are you perfect now? Mr. Perfect...brought to heel by mice with big butts and lips."

Leon stopped pacing to glance down at her face, "What?"

"Oh, yes," Kat cooed softly and draped her long legs over the edge of the big chair where she lounged, "I saw her face last night. She is crazy for you."

He waved his hand at that, too, and had her laughing. "How does Ada feel about the competition?"

The mention of the other spy who constantly had her fingers in his pies had him rolling his eyes. "She's met Jill."

Surprised, Kat winged her brows up. "Interesting. The last time Ada found us together in that little town near Nepal, she was not so thrilled. Remember? My equipment was covered in sludge and steaming the next morning."

Leon snorted, "Ada isn't jealous of you, me, or Jill. I promise you. Because I'm not fucking any of you."

Kat tilted her head, "Are you playing with us all?"

He said nothing, which made her laugh and coo, "Yes, good boy or not, you are still a bad boy. Which girl plays the best, I wonder? I think me."

Leon rolled his eyes. She grinned and patted her lap. "Come sit, relax. Your mouse is fine."

"She's not a mouse. She's a B.S.A.A. agent."

Kat stopped sipping her coffee to wing her brows again. "Interesting. Are you playing with the enemy, then?"

He gave her a cool look. "We're on the same side."

"Are we? You and I, yes. Ada, yes. But your mouse? She is the wildcard, I think. She raises the question of money we don't want to mess with, Leon. You know that the RSC and the B.S.A.A. are tied together with dirty European money that even I don't know about."

"I know."

"Does she?"

He snatched her cigarettes and lit one up, causing her to sigh with something like sympathy.

When they held eyes, Kat nodded sagely, "I see. She's a cog in the wheel. Are you trying to spare her from what she doesn't know?"

What Jill didn't know about the powers behind their world would probably fill the entire Grand Canyon. The truth was even he wasn't sure who was good, who was bad, and who was just ruthless. What he did know? Exposing Jill to the corruption within her organization too soon wouldn't earn him her trust. It would convince her they were on opposite sides of the fight.

What he wanted here was cooperation, not mistrust. He had to carefully gauge the assets he cultivated, including Jill. Did he want Jill as an asset? A curious question and not entirely that simple Yes, and no.

He wanted Jill...he just wasn't sure it was as simple as for one reason or another.

When he said nothing for too long, Kat soothed, "It's alright, Leon. You are a bleeding heart; you always were. But she should know who she's working for."

"She knows."

Kat tilted her head, "Does she? Then maybe you're right. Maybe we're all on the same side after all."

After a moment of her watching his profile, Kat finally remarked, "Are you willing to do bad things to get what we need here, Leon?"

He gave her a level look. "...what kind of "bad things"?"

He did air quotes and had her batting her lashes at him. "Depends. What's your yardstick for bad?"

Leon snorted, "That's relative."

"...you know who I need to contact to get what we need here."

He'd known, he'd heard, that Wesker was feeding the RSC intel to get what he wanted. He knew. U.S. intelligence knew. It was whispered he was feeding any organization that would do his dirty work for him. And the thing about Wesker? He had plenty of chicken scratch to offer to keep people coming back for more.

Leon held her eyes as the thrum of distaste made the bitter flavor of cigarettes coupled with disgust. "That might be too bad even for you, sweetheart."

Kat smirked as she stated, "Ah, but we did bad things together once, Leon. Have you forgotten?"

He shook his head, inhaled, felt the acrid filth enter his lungs, and sighed with relief. "I haven't forgotten anything. But there's a difference between working with an asset and befriending a megalomaniac."

"Both are dangerous; it seems," She ran her hand up his thigh while he studied her, "Both get results. I've been doing this so long...you think I haven't broken the rules when it suited me?"

Leon laughed, "I don't break them. I bend them until they suit me. That's the difference between us. I still know where the line is."

"Do you? And what would it take to get you to cross it?"

When he said nothing, Kat encouraged, "Love?"

His silence had her urging. "Loss?"

As he turned away, she coaxed, "Desperation?"

Softly, she wondered, "What would it take to strip away that layer of honor and expose the wolf beneath it, I wonder? Wolves are neutral, Leon; they don't care about motivation, and they kill to protect and survive. What would you do to protect what matters? And what price would be too high?"

"You ever think maybe the answer is: nothing?"

Kat tilted her head. "We all do, Leon. It's just a matter of finding it. A man like Albert Wesker finds your weakness. The only way to deal with a man like that is to make damn sure he knows it'll cost him more than it's worth to exploit it."

"Damnit, Kat, it can't be worth it."

She gave him a cool look. "It's always worth it. Every time we close a case or bury a cell of bioterrorists. It's worth it. And you know what he'll want for his cooperation this time. We both do."

Their eyes battled as he demanded, "You think I'll stand by while you hand him a sample from that cave?"

Kat held his eyes, and the teasing slid away under that coolness he knew was the real her. "Yes. Because working with him will get you access to wells of information and further intel that you couldn't touch without him. That's how this works, Leon. The greater good, right? Getting on his good side means we get a step closer to destroying the enemy."

"...he's the enemy."

"Yes," she looked at him sadly, "But he's the devil you know. And even if you're destroying his enemies for him, you're still destroying your own as well. And eventually, it'll just be down to him."

When he said nothing, she finished, "And then you get what you want. You get to finish it. Isn't that what you want? For this...all of this...to finally be over? Isn't it worth working with the devil you know to win?"

Was she right? Should he play the game with Wesker? He'd made assets out of enemies before. When it suited the mission, he'd work with anyone to get the job done.

At what point was the risk worth the reward?

What if she was right and playing Wesker's game got them results that they'd been unable to achieve before now? Isn't that why Ada had worked with him herself? Maybe he needed to take a page from her practical manual and set aside his own conscience.

He knew he'd never let Kat take a sample back to Wesker. She had to know it too. But she was banking on his practicality over his personal agenda. She was betting he was willing to play with the devil to save the world.

He was starting to think he was the last person in their business that cared about the people in this world they were trying to save. But he'd play. He'd pretend. And if necessary, he'd stop Kat to stop Wesker.

His loyalty, after all, ran first and foremost to those people who haunted his dreams and demanded his sacrifice to protect them.

Quietly, she told him, "We might need him, Leon. If we can't stop what's in that cave...he can. And we both know it."

"How many times have you called in his H.I.V.E. unit, Kat?"

She gave him a cold look. "...as many times as it took."

"...how in the hell do you sleep at night?"

Without a flicker of regret, she told him, "...like a baby. Knowing how man lives I saved selling my soul to do it."

He was spared an answer when her coat vibrated.

There was a beep of her phone, and Kat flipped it open into the silence that followed. Her eyes flickered as she cooed, "Bingo...we need to find your friend in the cabin after all. He's been working side by side with our target."

Leon drummed his fingers on the desk. "What's the name?"

Kat glanced at the phone and back at his face. "...oh, Nikolai...this doesn't end well for you, I'm afraid." She murmured a rather filthy curse in Russian and gave Leon a dark look, "We need to find your meerkat, my love...because I think it's time we learned about Raccoon City and the mess she left behind."

When his brows arched, Kat cooed, "Oh yes, we've been looking for Nikolai since the fall of that ill-fated city. The rumors of her working with him are widespread. You know her well, so I ask you - is she...what is the word...in cahoots with him?"

Leon licked his teeth, considering. It still felt wrong. Jill wasn't that complicated. Ada was, and God knew Kat was. But Jill didn't hide or keep things under her vest. She wore the truth on her sleeve in plain sight. She wasn't a traitor.

She was just another victim of a world trying to erode the last of their humanity. He was nearly positive. The only wrinkle in it was the question of Nikolai - how was he still alive? Jill's report was pretty clear she'd left him to die on that rooftop.

But...hadn't he been sure of the same with Jack in Columbia? Did anyone ever really die in their business?

And could anyone ever really be trusted?

Was he a fool to put his faith in his gut regarding her?

Or did it come from knowing, in his bones, that she was a woman you could count on?

And why did he feel that way? Because she was the first woman in years, who'd given him coffee and turkey? Because he liked looking at her? Stupid. It was way past time to stop underestimating women. When would he learn?

Before he could answer, the door was flung wide, and the flushed face of one of the local deputies looked at them in horror. "...something happened at Opie's...something...is out there. They've stopped responding to the radio."

Kat whistled softly and mused, "Nikolai...you are a bad boy."

And that was something they could both agree on.

Abandoned Alaskan Fishing Village - 5:15 a.m.

As they slid down an embankment toward the abandoned village, Shenmei warned Jill quietly, "You seein what I'm seein?"

Jill nodded, "Hostiles, potentially, dotting the horizon."

"Look canine."

"Wolves."

"Yep."

As they emerged into the aging and rotting structures, Jill glanced into the one derelict building and caught sight of a torn piece of red cloth. She eased toward it, lifted it, and figured out it was part of a strap from a backpack.

Shenmei stated, "So, someone was here."

They ducked under the rotted door frame and out into the cold. There was a tremble of sound toward the village's far side, followed by a scuffling and shuffling of fleeing feet. Jill gestured with her head, and Shenmei copied her until they flanked the village and pursued.

Jill paused and aimed into the dark when the sound rustled loudly with her thermal imaging in place. She watched a slight object shift and run, likely a squirrel or a varmint of some kind. Something else shifted in the trees, and she called, "Gunnerson? We're not here to hurt you. We just want to talk."

The trees rustled, and Jill spun with her weapon up to find herself face-to-face with Shenmei. The female agent lifted a finger to her lips and gestured with her head. The music started - a tinkling of chimes and song.

There was a rustle again. They tried to see where it was, what it was, and who it was. But it didn't matter.

Softly, Shenmei warned, "...Jill?"

There was a warbling cry, and a flock of birds took flight, wings flapping, wind flying, snow falling. They ducked, trying to avoid being hit with bodies and rage. When Jill threw up an arm to knock loose some attackers, something dropped out of the tree above her.

Shenmei shouted.

The snow gave a soft sound of surrender as Jill hit her back with a grunt and the thing atop her looped tentacles around her throat. Quick. Endless. It choked her as she struggled to get her gun up to fire.

Shenmei's gun went off, and the wolves finally attacked from the darkness.

They pounced. They poured in. They hit the hills and slid down to join the fray. Tentacles whipped the sky from ripped backs, and heads split in half to emit mutant things that were rabid and roaring.

The M4 was muffled against the body, trying to kill her. She fired into it, felt the sting of acid on her left thigh as it bled, and it jerked her to her feet and threw her. She was airborne, slinging through the dark and smashing into the trees beyond.

It wobbled walked and ran at her - bloated, bursting with mutation, pieces of flesh and forgotten limbs dangling grotesquely around an erupted torso where something else had been birthed from its shattered carcass. When she smacked into a tree and lifted that M4 to fire on it, it leaped up and around, dodged, and climbed the trees like Tarzan.

Jill rolled to her feet, back throbbing, and grappled for her helmet in the dark. She stuffed it on her head, spun around, and looped a tentacle around her ankle to jerk her up and into the air. She dangled, the helmet gave her just a moment of clarity before it tumbled to the ground from gravity, and she fired where it had suggested.

Blood sprayed, sizzling where its trunk and limbs landed, burning hotly over her left ear and neck as she blasted it upside down. Shenmei screamed somewhere in the battle with the wolves, and Jill felt a roll of panic and fear. Shenmei shouted into communicators in their ears, "Kevin! Kevin! Valentine and I are pinned down! We're surrounded by hostiles! Get to the boat...and get out of here!"

If he made it, there went their backup.

But it was ok. It was good. This was a losing fight. Jill knew it. She felt it. All they could do was try like hell to take as many as they could with them before they went.

From the trees, Nikolai tilted his head. He knew how this ended, he could see the long game a million miles off. He understood now what he was up against. For years, he'd operated in the shadows without a soul to answer to.

But the Motherland had found him. The time to offer his mea culpa was near. He needed something worth trading to guarantee his safety upon his return. And what Jill Valentine had inside her might be the perfect bargaining chip.

She'd survived the infection. She carried the weight of gold in the bioterror world in her body. If he could collect her and a sample of what was within those caves, he'd have what he needed to purchase his freedom without fear of retribution.

He just had to find the right lure to get her away from her team and ensure she wasn't a threat.

He watched her battle with his head tilted and a half smile on his shadowed face. If she lived, she was the perfect currency to buy back his life.

And finally, get revenge for the shambles she'd left of his in Raccoon City.