Chapter 14

Shortly after the chopper landed, Billy Coen's legs had been untied from the floor, and he had been dragged forcefully off of the chopper and through a door. Hearing dinging noises, he figured he was being put on an elevator, and when he felt himself moving downward, that suspicion had been confirmed.

When the dinging sound went off again, he was dragged off of the elevator and moved forward a few feet and through a door before being forced into a chair. His leg restraints were tied to the legs of the chair, and then he squinted as suddenly, light flooded his eyes. The mask and ball gag had been removed, and the first thing he did was move his mouth around, trying to get the feeling back after having been gaged for so long.

Once his eyes adjusted, Billy saw that it was the Russian that had removed the mask. He sneered. "You son of a bitch!"

The Russian chuckled. "Now, now. That's no way to talk to your savior."

"I didn't need saving from the likes of you," Billy told him, spitting in his face.

The Russian reared back and backhanded Billy.

"That's enough, Sergei," a voice said.

'Sergei,' Billy thought. 'Finally, a name for this bastard. A name goes a long way when you're plotting someone's demise.'

"William Zachary Coen," the voice said.

Billy turned toward the voice. It belonged to a man sitting behind the desk that was directly in front of him. The man wore a very nicely tailored suit and had a grin on his face that made him look creepy, or maybe it was intimidating. Billy hadn't decided which yet for sure.

"You seem to know me," Billy stated. "Been… fantasizing about me, have you?" It was the same line he'd given Rebecca when they'd first met. He hadn't told her, but it was a trademark of his that he'd told people a lot. It had gotten him in trouble in the Marines on more than one occasion which probably should've gotten him discharged before the incident in West Africa.

If at all possible, the man's grin became wider. "Your file from the Marines does state your arrogance."

Sergei scoffed. "I'd say it was being cocky more so than arrogance."

"Aren't they basically one in the same?" the grinning man asked. He turned back to Billy. "My name is Trent."

"Trent?" Billy asked, finally having a face to go to one of the chessboard pieces he'd gathered. "Did Sergei here tell you about his failure with The Red Queen yet?"

Sergei growled. "You were supposed to be unconscious during that conversation, comrade."

"Sorry to disappoint you… comrade." Billy smirked.

Sergei moved forward, but Trent put up a hand. "Enough. Please, go make sure that Ivan has seen to Dr. Wesker and Mr. Frost's needs."

'Dr. Wesker must be the name of the smooth-talking man from earlier,' Billy thought. 'Sergei called him a 'good doctor' after all. Wesker… why does that name sound familiar? And who is Mr. Frost? That must be whoever the "checks and balances" is.'

"Do you believe it wise for me to leave him with you alone?" Sergei asked.

"He's still got the strait jacket on, and his legs are restrained," Trent pointed out. "I think I'll survive."

Sergei scoffed and then moved off.

"I'll be seeing you, Sergei," Billy promised as Sergei moved past, eyes narrowed at him. Billy turned his head, watching as Sergei moved out of the room, closing the door behind him. Finally, he turned back toward Trent. "Where the hell am I?"

"Grady's Inn," Trent replied. "Raccoon City. I'm utilizing the manager's office currently."

"You must be in very good standing here then," Billy guessed.

Trent's grin never faltered for even a second. "You could say that, yes."

"Or this place is owned by Umbrella," Billy said flatly.

Trent nodded. "You're very wise, Mr. Coen."

"Most people just call me Billy," he told him.

"But I wager you used to go by something else," Trent suggested.

"Well, when people find out my middle name, they take to calling me Zack," Billy revealed. "They think they're being funny until I punch them for it."

"No, I'm referring to William," Trent said. "You used to go by William."

Billy shook his head. "William was my father's name, and we didn't see eye to eye on much, except his pride at me being a star on the track team in high school, so no. You're wrong."

Trent leaned back in the chair. "If you say so… Billy."

"How did you even know where I was?" Billy asked.

"Security cameras are a commonplace feature in Umbrella trains and facilities," Trent replied. "I saw everything that you and Rebecca Chambers went through. I want to apologize for your treatment by Sergei and Ivan. I hadn't wanted that severity from them, but you were very much needed, and they don't know why."

"But you think you've got all the answers," Billy said.

"I always have all the answers," Trent said.

"You're just as cocky as I am," Billy observed.

Trent chuckled. "I guess we'll see in time which one of us is the winner in that category." That said, he slid a file across the desk. "I know you aren't going to be able to look through that with the strait jacket on, but it's for my protection at the moment. Considering the way you were treated, I have to be careful."

"Then what's in there?" Billy asked, nodding to the file.

"The truth about your mission," Trent said. "Commander Samuel Regan took you and your team to West Africa on a mission that only he knew was actually for The Umbrella Corporation."

Billy's eyes widened. "No, no, it was over a civil war out there. You're not serious."

Trent nodded. "The Ndipaya were a thorn in the side of the Umbrella Founders, and they needed them eliminated to keep them from eventually talking, but of course it was made to look different from that."

"Why?" Billy asked.

"That area was the origins of Umbrella," Trent replied. "It was where James Marcus originally discovered The Progenitor Virus, which was the catalyst for The Tyrant Virus."

"The T-Virus," Billy whispered. He shook his head.

"Red Umbrella, our military branch, they tend to hire disrespectable members of the Marines and the other branches of the United States military to take care of Umbrella's dirty laundry in exchange for the military advancements that Red Umbrella constructs for them," Trent revealed. "You were just unlucky enough to be part of the team that Sergei hired, but I think there's more to it than that. Primarily the reason why it was you that was singled out to be framed for Regan's betrayal."

"It's because I disobeyed his orders," Billy told him. "There wasn't anything more to it than that. I wasn't going to fire on innocent people: farmers, the elderly, women, and children."

Trent rubbed his chin. "Perhaps."

"You act like you know something," Billy said. "You want to share?"

"Not yet," Trent replied. "I need to know for certain before I put you down a path that might not be true."

"Do you always speak like this?" Billy asked. "You sound like you're straight out of a James Bond movie."

Trent smiled. "Then let's hope that you're Mr. Bond himself then. I'm going to need someone talented like that."

Billy shook his head. "If you think after everything I've learned that I'm going to help you, you've –"

"The alternative is death, Billy," Trent said. "Umbrella will kill you. You're just lucky that Sergei doesn't know the details about you. He's too wrapped up in other concerns to put two and two together that you're connected to Samuel Regan. I have to remove you from the playing field before he does realize it."

"So, you expect me to believe that you're on my side?" Billy asked.

"If I wasn't, I would've had you killed, or I would've done the deed myself," Trent said.

"Whose side are you really on?" Billy asked.

"My own side," Trent replied. "But I let people in every once in a while, if they're worth it, and I believe you might just be. Red Umbrella has to be stopped."

"Aren't you Red Umbrella?" Billy asked in confusion.

"I am part of the board of executives," Trent told him. "Technically, I'm both Umbrella branches, but I'm concerned with the future of this company."

Billy scoffed. "So, you're just worried about your stock portfolio."

"Sure," Trent replied. "Look, I can tell that you want revenge on Sergei. If you help me, you'll get to have just that down the line. I can't promise it right away, but if you're patient, you'll get everything that you want."

Billy leaned forward. "Promise me that Rebecca won't be hurt."

"She made it out of the mansion," Trent revealed, pleased to see the relief flood over Billy's face. "She was the only survivor of her S.T.A.R.S. team. She got out with four of the Alpha Team. They're currently filing their reports, which I figure Rebecca's will state that she found you dead. Trust me when I say I have no reason to hurt her. One of the Alphas she survived with is an ally. At least, I hope she is, and I'm sure she'll protect Rebecca. I have plans for all of them to help in the same cause as you."

Billy nodded. "Then get me out of this damn strait jacket. We've got work to do."

Trent's grin widened. "That's what I like to hear."

Minutes later, Billy found himself out of restraints and taken forcefully to a room for the night by the Tyrant named Ivan, whom didn't say a word to him. He was dragged there and left with the door being locked from the other side.

"Wonderful service here," Billy mumbled.

"I've had better," a voice said.

Billy instantly got defensive as he finally noticed a man in a lab coat standing at the large balcony window, looking out of it. "Who the hell are you?"

The man turned around. He was old, probably in his sixties or seventies, but he had a soft smile on his face. His hair had been clearly dyed black as it didn't look natural. It was probably cheap dye from a department store. "I'm Dr. Brandon Bailey. I'm an associate of Mr. Trent."

Billy raised an eyebrow. Trent hadn't told him that someone would be waiting in his room, but he decided to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. "Alright. I'm Billy."

"Billy Coen, yes," Brandon said. "I know." He stepped over to the bed and toward a steel briefcase laying on it. He opened the latches. "We have a lot of work to do, and Mr. Trent wants us to get started right away."

"Can't we start in the morning?" Billy asked, moving over. "I've had a very long night, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"Yes, I was debriefed on what went down at the Management Training Facility," Brandon said. "You've been through quite a lot. It shows your courage and merit. You're going to need that."

"So, what's in the briefcase?" Billy asked.

"It's our first objective," Brandon replied. "Something from R&D that needs to be tested." He opened the briefcase, grabbing a remote from within, pressing a button and then turning the remote toward Billy, pressing another button.

"What are you –" before Billy could finish his question, a red device with silver… legs, leapt out of the briefcase, clasping itself to Billy's chest. He tried to scream, but for some reason, the sound wouldn't come out.

"The P30 begins working almost instantly, Mr. Coen," Brandon said.

"P… P30?" Billy barely managed to mumble.

"It's a chemical compound derived from The Progenitor Virus," Brandon replied.

"Mar… Marcus," Billy mumbled, stumbling backwards.

Brandon chuckled lightly. "Yes, you were around Dr. Marcus in his last hours. You were near The Progenitor Virus in its purest form, and being that you were around Marcus himself, it makes you the best subject to test this."

Billy suddenly found himself unable to move at all. He became still… rigid. Whatever this drug was, this P30, it had completely taken over his motor functions.

The bathroom door off to the side opened as an ethnic woman stepped out, her high heels clicking as she went.

Brandon turned around and smiled. "He's ready, Dr. Marcus."

Subconsciously, Billy noted that this woman was named Marcus. She must've been a relative of James Marcus, but he couldn't consciously react at all. The only thing he could tell he was doing was breathing.

"Please, Brandon, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Evelyn?" Evelyn asked.

Brandon smiled. "I'm sorry. I just prefer to be professional."

Evelyn placed a hand lightly on his cheek. "There's no one around but him, and he isn't going to care, at least, not for the moment anyway." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "To this day, no one knows that you're the father of my dear Simon for a reason. You've always been good to me."

"But I'm so much older than you," Brandon reminded her. "If the founders found out…"

"You're just as much a founder as they are," Evelyn reminded him. "They can't take that from you, and when my father is brought before them, he will be in agreement with that." She looked toward Billy. "Let's begin."

"You're certain?" Brandon asked.

"Everyone thinks he's dead," Evelyn replied. "Mr. Trent won't be able to find us to stop us once we're done here, and besides, I'm doing this for my dear sister, and I'd do anything for Alicia."

A tear rolled down Billy's cheek, and that was the last thing that he could consciously manage to do for a very long time.