Notes:

I'm just disappointed with how RE: ID gave us so little of Claire. The plotline was okay. Maybe if they make it like more episodes (10 maybe), we can see Claire get some action. But alas, I still hoping that they to continue the series in the future with more badass scenes of Claire. Finger-crossed. So, this is my bastard rendition of what happened after RE: ID.

The usual rackety noise outside could be heard from where Claire was seated. She was unfazed by the noise, she was used to it. Must be somebody who had walked in with ailments that needed to be tended to. If the ambulance came wheeling in, she must have heard. The Terrasave's tent was exactly next to the refugee camp's make-shift hospital for the easy access of medical workers to aid the staff of the hospital if they were overcrowded. So far, it was no an -if-.

The hospital has always been overcrowded. Countless times she encountered news from the media saying that the civil unrest has subsided after the US and its allies footed in Penamstan to join the coalition of humanitarian aid. Claire bet that half of them were true. Maybe it would be too early to say that the country's positive progression. However, blatantly parading inaccurate news was itching her conscience. Security and safety were always a matter of subject to debate among her colleagues at least. She was certain others in the country were sharing the same point of view as them too.

The unsteady stance of the citizens to the provisional government made it easy for people with power to exploit the country for their own gains. As serious as the rebel militia to the lowly bandits armed with weapons, they still terrorized the streets regardless of day and night. At this rate, peace talks seemed improbable.

And the news that she was reading right now did not console her troubled heart. Originally, her eyes focused on the laptop screen typing away reports since this morning. Her attention was unmercifully swayed after reading an email from a colleague back home. Dying to know more, she typed in the name that had been repeated seven times in the email into the search engine box without haste. Article after article she read, carefully scrolling from top to bottom. All she could feel was pure indignation at how all the news was reported.

Apparently, the SECDEF Wilson, or more appropriately former SECDEF Wilson had been removed from his office and was put under investigation. Charged with something new that Claire could not think of, embezzlement and money laundering. She lost count of how many articles she had read but none of them mentioned any of his involvement in the incident that had caused strife between her and Leon.

No bioweapon, no Mad Dogs, and not even Penamstan was ever mentioned in any of the articles. Lost interest in reading the rest of the article, she stared at the screen out of nothingness. Her hand fisted ball, discontent. She was tempted to reach the satellite phone at the corner of the desk and sought explanations from Leon. Is this his idea of doing this way? Maybe she should yell fury at him to get her point across.

But Claire knew she was incapable of doing so. Her heart was too soft for him. How frustrated and infuriated she was, he always had his place in her heart to reason with. They have not been in contact with each other for six months. Mostly due to her pride and stubbornness. He tried several times to contact her, through phone calls, emails, and instant messaging. None of them had her respond.

After meeting at Harvardville, she was hoping that she could build a more meaningful connection with him rather than just mutual acquittance. She wanted to reconcile for whatever they had left back in Raccoon City. She wanted to express her gratitude for his help on her Rockfort Island escape. Most importantly, she wanted to let him know that he did not have to bear the weight alone because she would always be there for him.

Claire was far from ignorant of his sacrifice for Sherry and her sake, securing Sherry's safety and keeping her from any entanglement with the government. With little help from his brother, it confirmed her hunch the moment she heard him enrolled in the agent training program. Some might think he was stupid, to sacrifice his whole life for someone he just met over one night. But, she thought otherwise. His selfless action moved her heart in a completely new direction to something that she never felt before. But now she was scared because what happened might tank her hope to the drain. Her cursor was hovering over his email in the inbox box. Leaning back, she sighed at how debilitating she is right now.

"Knock. Knock."

Claire turned in the direction of the shy voice and saw a head peeking from the flap door. His round brown eyes greeted her, with a sheepish smile on his face. Soban Amash always has a bright expression on his face. After several tasks attached to Soban, Claire grew fond of his good nature and merry attitude. The teacher volunteered to be their guide today. With a local guide, it gave much greater positive feedback from the local community in comparison to when they work without them. The locals were much more open and interacted more friendly, which made their job commence smoothly.

"It's time, Miss Claire."

Looking at her watch that stapped on her right wrist, she replied, "Right. Dammo Village."

Soban smiled and entered the tent to help her with the equipment.

"And Pierre?"

"By the jeep. On time supprisingly."

"Huh? I know why. Hanna will be coming with us this time."

"Oh... that makes sense."

Along with her water canteen, Claire immediately shoved the satellite phone in her backpack before she forgot. Soban hauled the boxes of equipment ready to be stowed in the jeep.

"Thank you, Soban."

Complete with a bulletproof vest on her, she strapped the gun holster around her thigh. She double-checked her gun and secured it in the holster. After several seconds of deliberation, she slotted extra magazines into her vest. Last but not least, her helmet. She somehow felt someone going to combat rather than doing humanitarian aid. No wonder the locals had second thoughts about approaching them. It got her snickered, maybe she doing this backward. If she dressed normally like Soban, friendly local interaction would not be a problem.

Terrasave made it mandatory for those who have assignments outside the camp at least to wear a vest and helmet. Claire was one of a few that licensed to carry a firearm outside the camp. Lately, news circulated around that the rebel militia had been harassing aid workers who working outside the camp. Claire even heard several of them had encountered abduction attempts. Not only Terrasave, but other NGOs also tried their best to keep all their personnel on guard. Again, so much for peace talk.

Due to an -unscheduled visit- they said, Claire's party did not get an armed escort from the UN this time. They ought to inspect a community clinic that had been damaged from the war. The local politician had been pestering them to do the restoration fast so that the children could be saved, he claimed.

Huh! Children?!

The truth was he just wanted to lobby the locals' votes so that he could use them to snag some position in the new provisional government. The whole situation was a total drag, Claire thought. Regardless of which part of the world you came from, when a person called themselves politicians their mold would be the same.

SNAKE!

When she got out of the tent, she saw Pierre was helping Hanna Howle with the helmet and vest instead of double-checking the equipment. She shook her head in disbelief. Terrasave had outsourced the French contractor a few times and Claire had no problem working with him. But there were times it coulda be a handful. He had his way when came to women, he played out his charms and his wits. But all those failed towards Claire. He said she had a cold heart but in honesty, she was just plain not interested.

Hanna's presence maybe could lift his mood through their coming expedition. As expected, Hanna accepted her offer to join them with a gladdened heart. The journalist from New York was one of the few that Claire trusted, trying to push the narrative on what exactly happening in Penamstan. Every bit of goody-jolly writing pieces that her boss sought after back home, explicitly Hanna would lace them with the grimness and madness happening in the conflicted nation. That was the only ticket for her to get the word out to the rest of the world. Exasperated, her thought shifted to the chip again. If she had gotten the chip she must have taken it to run through by Hanna. If only she had it.

Claire was about to conclude checking the equipment when she heard the French cheerfully announce in his native tongue, "Okay. Allons-y!!".

She shut the hood and moved to the rear passenger seat next to Soban since Hanna was already occupied in the passenger seat. Must be Pierre's insistence and Claire did not mind at all. They were entertained by Pierre's obsession with wine-making throughout the whole drive, which Claire heard countless times before. Now it was an ear-feast for Hanna. Claire saw Hanna discreetly turn to her with rolled eyes. It got her giggling inwardly while Soban smiled at their interaction. It took them nearly three hours to journey into a rural mountainous area, after passing through a few small hamlets to reach a place named Dammo.

Claire did not know much about the technicality of building structures. However, it did not stop her from assisting Pierre. The reason why she was there was to supervise the hired contractor and later to write the report on the progression of many humanitarian projects to the Terrasave's Board. The other thing that Claire noticed about Pierre was that even though the guy was surely blind as a bat when taking hints, he was generous when comes to sharing knowledge.

Pierre taught Claire everything she needed to know about building inspection. Fundamental and essential. She jotted down every note and detail and snapped some pictures so they could be used as supporting documents. She did not want to be the reason the project received reject votes in the board verdict. So every report had to be concise and precise. And in her opinion, Pierre Levesque was not so bad after all.

The inspection took roughly two hours to complete. Within those solid hours, Claire had been climbing, squatting, and ducking against sand and dirt. Although it was in the middle of the fall season, her hair was baking inside the helmet with heat and sweat. Her mouth felt dry, parched with water.

When Claire finished loading the equipment, they were greeted by the local teenagers asking interested in what they were doing. Soban enthusiastically tended to the visitors while Hanna did not miss capturing the whole scene. This could be used for good publicity. While Pierre ran through the checklist for the last time, Claire went to her seat in the jeep and reached for her water canteen. Unhooking the chin strap, she took a sip of the water. She pulled the helmet out of her head and felt the breeze on top of her head. These small things were heaven to her right now.

Pierre lifted his eyes from the clipboard he holding when they were greeted by a few grown men. At the same time, Claire moved away from her seat when she heard the gruff voice, growing suspicious of their new guests. They did not look for someone from the village. Before both Pierre and Claire could react, they both were swiped hard in the heads. The last Claire heard was Hana's scream and Soban's yell of her name, then it was all black.

-*-

The slamming of Claire's body brought her to consciousness. She appeared to be in a moving vehicle that moved violently off-road. They must have traveled further to the mountain. Her head filled with the image of herself lying at the back of this 4x4 truck resembling lifeless bodies that had been carried to the graveyard. Like she usually saw in the camp, when they brought in dead bodies after firefights for identification.

Claire was lying on her side with her leg tied together with also her hand-tied to the back, her mouth stuffed with a cloth that tasted grease, and her sight was completely blinded by the sack that was thrown over her head. She opened her eyes slowly but squeezed closed back again. She bit hard the gag in her mouth enduring the throbbing pain of her head.

While she was trying to get acclimatized to the pain, she could hear Hanna sniffle. That good. This meant she was conscious and most importantly alive. Although, the fate of Pierre and Soban was still unknown. When the vehicle started to speed, she groaned in pain as her body collided with the interior wall making her lay on her back on her bound hands.

The whole interior of the vehicle had a strong fragrance that Soban usually smelled. It was the scent of the water pipe that the locals liked to smoke. This might be the abduction attempts probably the one they talk back in the camp. On the contrary, this was far more than just an attempt. Thinking about it, a wave of nauseating spells suddenly caused her the need to vomit the contents in her stomach.

Shitting hell!

The vehicle was slowing down as she heard the heavy sound of a creaking metal gate open. They have arrived at the lion's den. Claire presumed it the headquarters of the rebel militia. Her mind was trying to prepare for the worst when she felt the vehicle stop. They grabbed her by the legs and forced her out to stand. When Claire resisted, they dropped her to the ground and kicked her in her gut making her suck the air harshly to numb the pain. Her body went limp as they leveraged her by the arms. Her boots once tracked the dirt surface now replaced with a hard-cemented floor.

She heard clinking keys and another metal door opening between the people talking in their native tongue. The sound of the door was much lighter than she heard earlier. Claire tried to place her footing so she could stand on her own, but the person holding her yanked her arms hard refusing her amends. She heard an increasing sound of a crowd chattering ahead. As they went further inside, she heard the chattering noise bounces and echoes. She was guessing they had been brought to a large compound or a cave.

The crowd fell quiet greeting the arrival of the new guests. However, the moment her body was dropped to the floor the crowd started talking again. It felt like the occupants of this building were familiar with the scene. Her body landed hard, and she tried to situate herself in a sitting position. With bounded hands and legs, it was not easy. Once the man pulled the hood out of her head, she immediately shut her eyes. The sudden exposure to the light made a throbbing sensation come again. This time with sharp searing pain.

A man with a mustache that resembled the long-dead infamous Russian dictator, half-kneeled in front of her. He studied her, grabbed a chunk of her hair, and tilted her head up. Her eyelids flicked, trying to adjust to the surrounding light. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but some escaped and it was everywhere. Her face was sticky, she was not sure if it was sweat mixed with dirt or with blood. Her jaws started to pain. The air that escaped to her mouth made her throat feel arid. She swallowed hard in pursuit of comfort.

The Mustache Guy yanked her velcro nametag from the vest and walked away. Her eyes followed him who now was talking on the phone. Then her attention shifted to the crowd, a mix of young and old men. She swore she saw women and children among them or her mind started playing tricks. Hanna's frightened face came to view, it was glistening with tears. Her eyes met Hanna's, they were filled with fear. She was in the same predicament as her, hands and legs bound with her mouth stuffed with cloth. So did Pierre on her left, unconscious. His flaxen hair was soaked with crimson red, she was not sure if he was alive or already dead.

Claire heard Soban's voice but could not make out what he saying. It was all noise. He was talking to the Mustache Guy. No, more like pleading. His bound hands gestured something awkwardly in his native language. The man gruffed at Soban and swiped his head hard. Soban fell to the floor violently. Next to him was Hanna, who froze in fear at her place. The Mustache Guy walked in anger toward Claire, while Soban still pleading. There were tears in his eyes. She knew what coming, she was next. He commanded a man nearby with an authoritative hand gesture.

Immediately, without care, he pulled Claire from the ground. When she started to resist, the man slapped her face and punched her in the gut again. She coughed aggressively and tasted blood in her mouth. That got her head spinning again. Body limped, they dragged Claire out of the courtyard to somewhere Claire did not know gonna be. The thought of Leon comes to her mind, she should make that call. Regret spurred in her with depleting hope. In her mind, this was the end.

Is this how I'm going to die?