Chapter 25

Home Sweet Home

The long, winding drive was shaded by a canopy of gnarled oak tress. Shafts of yellow pierced through the penumbra of splayed and bent limbs, casting pockets of sunlight on the gravel graded road.

The fence bordering the trees on either side was weathered. The paint on the wooden posts and slats that had once been painted white had blistered into a drab melange of brown and ashen gray, and entire sections were saddled with a sagging list.

Wesker sighed. First impressions were everything, and his first impressions of the property invoked an instantaneous tinge of buyer's remorse. To be fair, he had focused primarily on the house itself and not the surrounding land. Clearly that had been a mistake. Property acquisition was not his forte.

Beside him, Claire stirred. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Her gaze drifted to the car window. "Are we there yet?"

The irritating way in which she framed her question reminded him of the age old query uttered by small children around the world when they found themselves trapped in cars on cross country journeys with minimal pit stops allowed to release pent up energy and boredom.

Wesker shut the lid on his laptop. "Almost. Hungry?" he asked.

"Thirsty."

"What would you prefer?" He motioned to a glass encased mini fridge stocked with edibles and assorted beverages. "Water, orange juice-"

"Water," she said, sitting up in the seat. She passed him his jacket and he passed her a bottle of water.

She waved the bottle at the window before twisting off its cap and chugging its contents in a few slurping gulps. She wiped her hand across the back of her mouth. "Someone went big or went home. You planning on opening a shopping mall when this little adventure is over? You've got the makings of a killer parking lot. Bulldoze a gazillion trees, level the hills, slap down a crap load of concrete. I'm sure you have just the destructive cronies for the job."

It was too early in the morning to play stick his hand in a basket of cobras. Sleep had not dulled her sharp fangs. Remain calm, he reminded himself.

"The decision of what becomes of the estate after it meets our purpose should be decided by the owner, which I am not."

She visibly flinched at his use of the word "our", without an attempt to hide her revulsion.

"I find it hard to believe your name isn't on the title, Wesker. You don't strike me as the type of someone who would splash a ridiculous amount of cash on a spread like this to just give it away for free ninety nine."

"I do not 'slash cash'," Wesker replied. "Money is merely a tool. I make no apologies for my accumulation of wealth. My time and my expertise in my field has given me the flexibility to live at a standard light years beyond the means of an average wage earner. I consider this venture a sideline. I will have no further use for the property when we part ways. Therefore," he concluded, "I have arranged for the deed to be transferred out of my name."

"And straight into a corporate tax shelter."

"Try again, but do not vex yourself too hard. You seem...what is the expression? Hangry? Best to conserve your mental reserves. Food after all is fuel."

He held up a hand to waive away her next reply. "You are a fool if you consider me, ME, of all people ignorant enough to allow you to have knowledge of this place and then proceed to not protect myself from the eventual aftermath of this unconventional liaison. Let me assure you here and now, there will be nothing of mine to seize when your sibling counterpart and your Prince Charming roll into town."

A timer on Wesker's watch beeped. He raked his fingers through his hair and adjusted his tie. "We have arrived."

The car rolled to a stop at the end of a circular driveway.

"He should have been a Nascar driver," Wesker said as the limo door swung open. "Right on schedule, Damion."

"My pleasure, Sir. Would you like me to remain on standby?"

"I believe Miss Redfield and I do not require your services at this juncture in time. Rendevous with station Echo and consider yourself discharged until further notice."

Weaker leaned into the vehicle and offered her his hand. "Catch all of that, Claire?"

She brushed his hand aside. "Fuck off."

"Careful now, you will make poor Damion blush."

"Working for you, he's heard worse." Claire climbed out of the vehicle. Her gaze panned the exterior of the house.

"Wesker, I thought the entire point of this exercise was to live the life of a common man. There is nothing common at all about this place. You'd have had a much more authentic experience by renting an apartment. This is-is absolutely ridiculous. You could fit five families in there."

"Given the mercurial nature of our mutual tempers an apartment did not seem appropriate. Too many ears beyond too many thin walls."

She slowly walked around the side of the house and paused in front of the garage. "I'm assuming we're not stranded or God forbid you mean to walk anywhere in the next two weeks."

"For once, you have assumed correctly."

"Why do I feel like if I raise that garage door there's going to be a black Rolls Royce behind it."

"I believe the remote for the garage has been deposited inside the house. You will find it difficult to open without it. Should we take a look? I can show you the layout with a proverbial tour."

"What's in the garage?" She insisted.

"Standard hybrid gas-electric economy vehicle. I felt it would be suitable for a few short jaunts into town while maintaining our low profiles."

"And where is town?"

"We are approximately ten miles west of the city center. I would caution you not to plan on an enriching sight seeing experience. There are a few shops and restaurants, and a handful of gas stations. It is not a tourist destination."

Wesker squared himself in front of her and leveled his gaze directly on her face. "Any attempt to seek the authorities in the city center will be viewed as a violation of our agreement. I would find you and retrieve you before you had managed a mile. As such, the hybrid has been modified with a fingerprint identification module. As you can imagine the only prints that unlock and operate the vehicle belong to me." He placed his hands on her shoulders and spun her around. "Take a good long look. Notice that the house sits atop a crest. There is an excellent view of the valley. Notice how the trees converge along the drive but do not provide sufficient coverage in the lowland. I am asking you now to not attempt what you have already begun to form in your mind."

"I wasn't thinking about escaping, Wesker. I told you I wouldn't."

"Your statement is a lie. I always make it a priority to evaluate potential business partners prior to negotiations. My risk assessment of you attempting to slink away in the dead of night leans toward probable. Please remind yourself of the consequences should I be forced to give chase when and if you decide the time is right to make your escape. I will kill them, Claire."

"You're a monster," she said softly as she turned to face him.

He smiled and spread his arms wide. "A monster with excellent taste. Shall we go inside?"