Boundless Abyss:
I:
Life
John Hopkins University - Baltimore, Maryland- 2004
Leon lay on his back, listening to the machines beeping.
The voices murmuring the glass had him lifting his own, "Just out with it, George."
George Hamilton, Raccoon survivor, and doctor, stood with his colleague, and another survivor of that long night, Yoko Suzuki, as he answered over the speaker in the MRI, "The scans look good, Leon. Clean. We're not seeing anything of concern."
That was always the answer. Nothing. They saw nothing. He wasn't even sure why. But it was good news. For the time being, everything was as though he hadn't stood in a cave and let a monster infect him.
Rebecca's repression serum was either doing its job, or he didn't need it to begin with. Because there were no signs of active infection in him, what they kept seeing was old. It was dead. It was just part of him.
The repeated testing felt almost unnecessary at this point.
As Leon rose from the table, and Yoko came into the room with him. Small, beautiful, brilliant, and Japanese American, she was part of the reason her small band of ragtag survivors had made it out of a burning city. He'd heard the stories about Kevin and never doubted it. She was barely a hundred pounds soaking wet but tough as nails. She'd used a pipe to beat back zombies to save her friends. She'd worked with George to create Daylight, the cure for the T-Virus in its early stages.
What they learned the University was currently in testing at WilPharma to finish the first-ever T-Virus vaccine. If they were able to stop T in its track before infection, the glory went entirely to her and the doctor still beyond the glass. Sometimes out of darkness, the light found its way.
Amused at the poetic thought, Leon let Yoko detach sensors from his torso and head. She moved around him like a mother hen, muttering, shaking her head. He angled a brow up as she admonished, "You're too skinny."
Ouch.
He laughed lightly. "You telling me to eat cheeseburgers, Doc?"
She gave him a narrow look, "I'm telling you to stop worrying yourself to death."
Leon pursed his lips, "Not my bag, I'm afraid. But I'm all ears if you can tell me how."
"Easy," Yoko handed him his shirt as he slid off the table, "get a life."
Leon choked on the water he'd been sipping as he laughed. He glanced at her, found him watching him with droll eyes, and chuckled around a hoarse return, "Damn. Don't sugarcoat it, Yoko."
"I mean it, Leon. You work too much. You're not taking care of yourself," she stuck her hands on her hips, "your Mother says you're not sleeping."
Leon snorted, "My mother worries too much."
"Geez, I wonder where you get it from," Yoko returned sarcastically, "I'm telling you right now - get a life. A real one. Stop pantomiming one and do it. Enjoy your kid. Take a vacation."
Leon snorted, and she added, "Get laid. Eat steak."
"At the same time?"
She narrowed her eyes at his teasing, and he felt scolded as she demanded, "Whatever it takes."
"You wanna get dinner later?"
Yoko kept her face deadpan as he chuckled, "What?"
"Don't be stupid," she moved to her computer at the side of the room, "I'm your doctor. And you're not my type."
Wow.
Almost insulted but instead highly amused, Leon laughed, "Ouch."
"Oh, please," Yoko waved a hand, "You didn't mean it anyway, you lech. You just hit on everyone, so you don't have to date anyone."
She was pretty insightful for a midget-sized sprite of a woman. Curious, he drolled, "What's your type anyway?"
As if on cue, the door opened, and George joined them. He was older, pushing fifty if he was a day, but handsome in the way of a classic movie star. He always reminded Leon of Clark Gable when he spoke, effortlessly classy. Yoko was much too young for him, but he got the appeal there. After all, George was as brilliant as she was. Maybe brains attracted brains.
George patted his shoulder as Leon finished putting on his coat, "Things are looking good, Leon. Just maybe...gain a little weight and get some sleep."
Yoko gave Leon a pointed look that said - see? And made him smile. "You guys are sure bossy for docs. Where's the bed side manner?"
Yoko rolled her eyes, "Tough love is the only thing that works on you, Leon. We both know that."
He did love a bossy woman; that was true. He winked at her, and she made pfft sound as she turned back to her computer. George kept that smile on his face like a father observing two errant children. "You're free to go, Leon. Just stop by and see Cindy on your way out for your next appointment. Keep up the regimen on the suppression drug, and we'll see you in a few months."
Leon shook hands with George and paused as he started out of the room. Yoko glanced at him, and Leon murmured, "Go get him, girl. Take your own advice."
She flushed, shook her head, and waved her hand to send him away.
He chuckled, headed out into the hallway, and turned into the lobby on the second level. He was headed toward the stairs when he saw what was in the lobby.
Not what...who.
Jill Valentine was crossing the lobby in a blue suit with a white silk top. Her dark hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail, and she wore cheap but comfortable black pumps on her long legs. She paused to talk to someone, likely finishing up her physical for coming aboard at USSTRATCOM.
He leaned on the railing, watching her move. She smiled. She laughed. Her eyes sparkled. It was like standing in the sun seeing her by that fountain in Terragrigia. The little gold earrings she wore flashed on her ears as she said goodbye to the person she was engaging in conversation, and she turned to head out of the lobby.
Leon watched her from the balcony. She paused. Her mouth twitched, and Jill muttered to herself. She glanced around, walked back to the desk, asked a question and laughed at something the receptionist said.
Nodding, Jill walked toward the lobby doors, hesitated, seemed to reconsider, and then kept going. He got it. He did. He wanted to go down and see her. But whatever she was thinking about, she was clearly struggling with leaving.
And he had somewhere else to be.
He thought about Yoko telling him to get a life. Maybe that's how life started; you just stopped running from it and let it happen. He went down into the lobby and up to the person Jill had been talking to.
Pretty girl, young and eager; she sparkled when he approached, "Mr. Kennedy! Everything go ok?"
Leon nodded, "Great, Louise, really. Was that Jill Valentine you were talking to?"
Louise smiled happily, "Yep. Finishing up her physical to start duty."
Ah.
Louise twitched a smile at him, "She asked about you."
His brows winged up, "Oh?"
"Yeah," Louis grinned, "She saw your bike outside. She asked if you were here. When I said yes, she kinda...seemed reluctant to leave."
Leon felt that shiver in his pride. "Hmm. We're friends."
Louise chuckled, "If you say so," she eyed him slyly, "Your friend is headed to Langley I hear, to brief the team on the new device we're acquiring."
Just like that, he knew where to find her.
He was wondering if she liked steak.
Leon winked at Louise, "...matchmaker."
She chuckled in answer.
His phone rang as he was pocketing it. Curious, he opened it and a voice said, "Peekaboo, I saw you."
Amused, Leon returned, "Did you now? What was I wearing?"
"A Rolling Stones t-shirt and Diesel jeans. You know I saw you."
"Did I?"
"Didn't you?"
The silence drug out before Leon mused, "Not a big fan of the Stones?"
Jill's tone was amused, "Depends...you want to meet me somewhere and convince me why I should?"
His lips turned up, "Yes. But in this case, they have a song for why I can't."
Jill laughed, and sang, "You can't always get what you want."
Leon sighed dramatically, "But...if you try sometimes...you might find..."
"You get what you need," Jill waited and added, "Are you getting what you need, Leon?"
After a handful of seconds, he answered, "Not yet. But I'm working on it."
The comfortable silence drug our until she answered, "It's good to hear from you, Mr. Kennedy."
He grinned, "Missed me, did ya?"
She laughed and returned, "Maybe so. See ya later, handsome."
The call clicked off. He stood there grinning. And he decided maybe it was time to get what he needed.
He had a million other things he could be doing. But he was about to put it all aside to go get a life. Amused, he opened his phone and arranged a flight to Langley.
He figured Yoko would be proud.
Langley, Virginia - 2004
Jill Valentine stood in the lobby of the Federal Bioterror Commission building, thinking about time.
Time, it seemed, never quite stopped. You could fight it. You could shove against it and hope it relented a little or slowed down. But you couldn't ever really make it just quit turning.
One way or another, the clock just kept ticking.
Her life had turned around and kept on turning like those hands on a clock in the last few months since she'd left behind the B.S.A.A. She was still finding her footing in a new organization and hoping her path became clearer as she went. But at least one thing remained open to her - the friends she'd made through the years.
Quint Ketcham was one of them. It was hard to think of Quint as anything other than an odd duck. He wasn't your average hero. He didn't look like Batman, but he had the toys. He was as charming as sandpaper in your ass crack, but you grew to appreciate his candor. His complete lack of social filter could be daunting at first meeting, but eventually, you found it refreshing.
Eventually.
"Valentine!" He chortled as he scurried toward her, looking flush and happy with his big ears and protruding eyes. Every time she saw him, she thought of turtles, and she was never quite sure why. "Goddamn, you look good! Your ass in that skirt? I get why they call you Valentine, ya know? I mean...I'm in love."
Jill laughed, shaking her head. He flirted, but he did it in an off-handed way that you could hit back or not, and he wouldn't care. He just didn't sweat the small stuff. He was unflappable.
"Quint," Jill greeted with a grin, "good to see you."
And it was. One more bridge back to what she'd left behind and headed toward her future.
"I can't believe this shit," Quint said as he joined her at the enormous display he'd set up in the lobby of the building, "me - I mean me- working for The Ghost, ya know? The Executioner!" He practically shouted it and pumped his arms like a kid with a hero.
She doubted Leon would see it the same way.
"That dude straight punched an el gigante once."
Droll, Jill remarked, "I heard that somewhere."
"Oh, haha - durp- right, right," Quint chortled again as he set up his newest toy: It was called the Omega because, naturally, it was meant to be vastly superior to Genesis.
It was lighter, more compact, and versatile. It had a slew of new features.
"So, if you click on this and pull here," Quint demonstrated how to store a sample in the vacuum sealer of the Omega, "You can actively collect data and upload simultaneously."
Jill nodded, encouraged by the functionality of the device.
Admittedly, she was thrilled with what the money infused by Tricell had done for the B.S.A.A. It was giving them the ability to, finally, create weapons to stop the infected beyond zombies. Chris had been, before she left, actively, working in conjunction with field ops and tech supply to create ammunition specific to B.O.W.S. In an homage to their greatest nemesis, the Albert-001 would be the first gun created to house bullets with genetic components aimed, entirely, at mutated DNA.
Quint's brainchild was getting new life in its more compact, more versatile form. With the White House backing funding, he was able to put advancement on his favorite toy that the B.S.A.A. hadn't been capable of allowing him. He was like a kid in a candy store.
Jill clapped Quint on the back, laughing with delight when Quint demonstrated the Omega's ability to process the environment and reveal credible threats, infection-to-mutation ratios, heat signatures, and vital signs of anything in its general vicinity.
She breathed, with reverence, "Now we'll know…when we go in…if the place is hostile or friendly. Before we ever set boots on the ground, we'll know what we're in for."
Quint grinned, thrilled with her response, "you bet- better than that? If you click here and here," He threw a virtual map on the wall for her, showing the entire blueprint of the building they were in. It also mapped out varying escape routes, showed ductwork and the likelihood of escape via sewer lines, and showed the names of all the people within a block radius from where they stood.
Jill blinked, watching the names light up. "How?"
"Anyone that has been DNA mapped is accessible by the Omega. You get a lot of feedback here because, hello! We all work for organizations that map us on a regular basis looking for mutations. But it wouldn't be so clear in a public setting with your average Tom, Dick, or Harry."
She grabbed his arm, squeezing, "But it would show us Albert Wesker."
They held eyes over the map on the wall, and Quint agreed, grinning, "Yep. Without question. The bossman? Thrilled. Balls-in-your-ass-deep-dicking-a-diva thrilled."
"Oh, I bet he was." She could see his face the second he realized it. They were so close. They had all the keys now. They just needed to find the lock to turn them in.
She breathed, "Your time is up, Wesker. Keep running. Keep hiding…coward."
Quint was grinning, "I done good?"
She squeezed his arm again, laughing, "Oh, oh-oh, so good. I knew in the interview you were a gold mine. Chris wasn't sure since you had as much professionalism as Beavis and Butthead…but….I knew. This is what you had in you."
"You made sure I got picked up by the B.S.A.A.?"
Jill grinned, "Oh, Quint - I demanded it," She studied him and desperately wanted to ask him to jump ship. But she wasn't trying to weaken the B.S.A.A. She stilled believed in her former organization; she just didn't believe in the people running it.
"I...think you're the coolest chic in the world, Valentine. Just sayin." His hang dog face grinned happily at her. He was an odd-looking fellow on a good day- from his big ears to his narrow face and his ever-present grin, but there was something almost charming about the missing filter he seemed to have never really had and his straightforward, no-bullshit attitude. To top it off? Quint was always joking.
He joked so much that Kevin had said, "I don't know if I love this joker or want to punch him."
Jill had warned, "Don't you dare. He's priceless." He was. He'd mourned Rebecca so hard when he'd found out about her passing that Jill had spent three days with him at his cabin in the woods just trying to help him back from the depression. Rebecca had been the sweetheart of anyone who'd known her. Quint and she had worked together so much that he'd loved her like a sister.
He took it so hard.
Thinking of that and how far he'd come for the cause, Jill turned and hugged him so spontaneously that he squeaked and grabbed her to hold on.
As a testament to the fact that he kinda loved her? He didn't even grope her.
Quint glanced at the map on the wall and squeaked again, "Whoa! Shit on a soggy sammich! I gotta be wrong here."
"What's that?" Jill leaned from hugging him and glanced at the map.
"It says...but...it can't really be him, right? Is he here? I thought he'd be, you know, like ass deep in alligators in the Congo or something..."And Quint squeaked, "Not wrong! Holy fuc-sir!"
Lord, he shouted it.
Jill jumped and turned.
Sir, indeed.
Quint was bowing and scraping like a fanboy. Why?
Leon was coming toward them. He looked good. Rested. Relaxed. Casual in a pair of deconstructed jeans and a buttoned-down shirt in navy blue with the sleeves rolled up his muscled forearms. The beard was gone, the face unobstructed. A nice shadow had started on his jaw and cheeks. The collar of the shirt was left open a button to show the smooth line of his throat. The blonde hair was making its way back from the dark proving he'd been in the sun.
He looked gorgeous, and Jill accepted the little pummel of knowing she'd missed him. She'd been teasing him on the phone. She wasn't teasing now.
And then, Quint shouted again, "Good to meet you, Sir! Huge, huge fan!"
Highly amused, eyes twinkling, Leon shook hands with the excited Tigger. He also glanced at Jill and winked causing her to twitch a smile. "Hey, guy?"
"Yes, sir!"
Leon laughed and patted his arm, "Ease down. It's ok. You're shouting. You're scaring those kids on the field trip over there with it. So just…dial back a tiny bit."
Quint flushed bright red and laughed, heehawing a little, "So sorry. Ah. Hah. I -you know-have no filter."
Leon patted his shoulder with sympathy and moved over to look at the map on the wall. He brushed right by her to do it, which…was utterly unnecessary. But she didn't shift away either, so…who was fooling who here?
But he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the wall.
The captivation on his face was paramount. Jill was enthralled with him like he was with the damn wall. Annoyed by such a feminine reaction, Jill followed his line of sight, and Leon spoke, almost reverently, "What is this?"
Quint bounced over, doing the pee-pee dance, "The Omega! It's what you wanted, right?! I made it all by myself, sir!"
Leon lifted his brows again, and Quint backpedaled a little, "Sorry. Sorry, sir. Sorry."
"No, sir. Just Leon." Leon gestured with his head, "You've mapped the area using genetic build and composition?"
What now? Jill listened. She did.
She didn't understand the next five minutes of nerd lingo. But she listened. Quint used big words that made her wince. He talked about genetic mapping and DNA and chromosomes.
She lost him halfway through what he was just zinging out there and grabbed his elbow, "Slow down. Pretend I don't have three degrees in every facet of science and that my IQ isn't over 135 and just…dumb it down for me a little."
Leon actually answered, surprising her because it meant he understood every word. She tried not to let that impress her.
"Genetic mapping - also called linkage mapping - can offer firm evidence that a disease transmitted from parent to child is linked to one or more genes," Leon studied the wall and moved as he talked, like a lecturing professor, "mapping also provides clues about which chromosome contains the gene and precisely where the gene lies on that chromosome."
Quint nodded, fast and happy, "Yes! Hah! I tell you about this guy, Jill? They say he's practically a genius."
So, she'd heard more than once. So, she'd seen, more than once.
Quint went on, "Yes, exactly, using genetic mapping…" he moved to his map and pointed, "I can tell you that these two are related."
The Omega brought up data on two agents by the fountain, "See? Not first generation. But it's in there. Cousins?"
Amused, Leon nodded, "Second cousins."
"Precisely."
Jill queried, "Why does this matter? In the big picture?"
And Leon answered again, "Genetic maps have been used successfully to find the gene responsible for relatively rare, single-gene inherited disorders such as cystic fibrosis. It isolates the chemical patterns characteristic specifically to the base…it makes a marker."
Jill kept her brow winged up.
Leon took her arm and guided her over to the wall. There was no flirting with him now. Just intelligence, just excitement, and a little bit of awe.
He gestured to the subjects that were related. "They both have a genetic history of asthma. But the markers found don't stop there. They can find heart disease, cancer…psychiatric disorders."
He moved behind her and gestured over her shoulder to a woman at the top right, "DNA markers don't, by themselves, identify the gene responsible for the disease or trait, but they can tell researchers roughly where the gene is on the chromosome. This woman? She's a carrier for muscular dystrophy."
Jill turned her head to feel his profile next to hers. She tried to follow along and asked, "How does that help us?"
He turned his head down, eyes bright and grinning, "The T-Virus works on a submolecular level. It bonds directly to the DNA of the host. It is looking for specific markers. We can use this to track susceptibility to the virus and assumingly any subsequent strains as well."
Quint laughed with delight to have a similar mind at work with him, "Yes! We can pinpoint areas within large populations of those most likely to be targeted-"
And Jill finished it now, seeing the pattern, finally, "—and vaccinate them in advance."
Reverently.
She got it now.
She felt Leon drop his hand onto her shoulder and squeeze, and he breathed, "Yeah. We can stop it before it lands. We can inoculate entire areas and avoid outbreaks."
"Oh, god. Oh my god." She laughed.
She also apparently lost her mind as she turned and spontaneously hugged him. Which was a response to the excitement of finally making headway. But it was ok, in a way. Because he hugged her back. And Quint came over to hug them.
Which was kinda weird, but again, ok, because they were all so happy.
Quint let go to dance and start rambling on again about the viral elimination process using a large-scale vaccine distribution.
And Jill realized she was still holding on to Leon.
So, it was now a fifteen-second hug. Which was entirely too long for public embracing. He leaned back to see her face, eyes wide and sparkling with good humor, and from somewhere on the upper balcony, Jill heard someone shout, "Kenny! Don't you touch that!"
Apparently, one of the kids from the field trip was getting into trouble up there.
Jill stepped back without looking, clearing her throat.
She literally stumbled doing it, and half fell on the table with all her research on it. Since he was always falling himself, Quint grabbed her out of habit and set her upright – unphased. He just kept going on about the Omega.
She'd stood there beside Leon, listening to Quint go on about updated functions for isolating exact location of plagas in implanted hosts. And for the first time since she'd left the B.S.A.A. she started to believe that together, they just might finish what they'd started. Together, they were finally putting all the pieces in place that had been so scattered apart. Interagency co-operation, cohesion, teamwork. It was the only way to do this.
And they were finally, finally, finally on the right path together.
It turned out sometimes the Rolling Stones were right - you could get exactly what you needed.