Five months.
That's how long they'd been searching. Five fucking agonizing long months.
Now, they had to worry about Neo-Umbrella on their trail. Piers had broken the news to Alex, gauging her reaction.
"Of course they are. All this because Albert Wesker had a raging hate on for Chris."
Interesting choice of words but true. The marksman navigated the back roads, avoiding large towns or population centers. Serbia was the next stop. Dotted with Roman ruins, medieval castles, and modern structures alike, it was beautiful; nothing like back home. Alex had taken to staring out the window, mind wandering or sometimes not. A gnawing feeling in her stomach chased her the entire way. Piers wasn't sure what to say. He had tread wisely with her, at least where certain subjects were concerned, trying to stay focused on the mission.
"Hey, we're here," Piers softly squeezed her knee. Alex looked over, seeing the rustic inn. Definitely not a major tourist draw, more geared towards the locals or those seeking travels off that beaten path.
Alex nodded, hopping out to grab the bags. She couldn't sense anything in the immediate vicinity as they walked through the door.
"I say we look in these towns," Alex tapped her finger, pointing out a few surrounding towns on the map.
"I agree," Piers nodded and passed the tea over. While they were in a more off the beaten place, tea and coffee were never in short supply wherever they went. "How are you holding up?"
"Okay," she took a sip, a local brew based on what she could tell. Alex gazed into the brew before she spoke up. "Piers, look, I need to apologize."
"For what, Alex?"
She brought his hands into hers, cerulean ice locked on his questioning gaze.
"How I've been since Montenegro. Staying at arm's length, not saying a lot, freezing you out. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I'm just...struggling with everything. And after what nearly happened, I shut down. I'm sorry, Piers."
Piers nodded, letting her speak.
"I just don't know anymore."
"No, you do know. You know you're in love with Chris. You know you're going to bring him home. You know you're going to help him heal."
"Guess that's about all I do know at this point. But, how can I look him in the eye, tell him I love him, knowing how I feel about you; knowing how you feel about me?"
"If Chris loves you as much as he says he does, he'll stay. I know, I'm probably the last person who should be dispensing any kind of advice, but, love's not easy. It hurts. It heals. It brings the best out of a person and can bring the worst out of a person. You and Chris have been to Hell and back. He's not the kind of man to turn his back on all that. And if he does, I'll kick his ass."
"I'd like to see you try," she laughed.
"Never know," he shrugged. "I've held my own against him in sparring."
"When we do find Chris, I'm not going to shut you out. Despite what's developed between us, I don't want the friendship we have to end."
"I don't want that either," Piers shook his head and squeezed her hands. "You made me feel welcome in the beginning, when I was the rookie. I've had more friends here, with you, Jill, Claire, Barry and everyone else. I'm going to be there for both you."
"Thank you," Alex hugged him tight, thankful for him being in her life.
Another fucking night of babysitting some entitled coked up rich kid.
Chris lit another cigarette, taking a long hard drag as he kept a sharp eye on his latest charge. This time, it was some damn 20 something crime boss's bastard.
"Oh come on, stud," both scalera marked with pencil thin trails of crimson; high already. The kid ran his hand along the broad chest, "wanna have a good time? I bet you're packing a thick dick in there."
His rented bodyguard clasped a massive hand firmly around his wrist the unceremoniously dropped it. Chris narrowed his eyes, taking another drag. Christ, this fucking little shit was annoying; couldn't keep his damn shaky hands off the older man. He definitely did not go for the immature strung out entitled brats. No, his mind went back to that woman who continued to haunt his dreams. They had changed, morphing from the dark violent first encounter to lighter, sexually based visions. Ones which he would wake up from with a smile on his face. Ones where he wasn't soaking the bedding with a thick layer of sweat. As Chris kept one eye on his ward, who was now downing shots with several others, laughing and carrying on. His mind dared to wander back to the most recent nocturnal fantasy.
Her small hands glided across his naked shoulders, taking in every sculpted valley and peak of flesh. Soft heated lips pressed to his abs, mapping an invisible trail along the center as her fingers slid lower, pausing to massage and tease the beautiful set of buds atop the sandy skin. The groan escaped his lips as she continued lower, hands sweeping down to unfasten the button. Through half lidded eyes, he watched as she dropped to her knees, drawing the zipper down.
"Please," he panted, lightly thrusting his hips out. Flashing a brilliant smile, she curled her fingers around the waistband of denim and elastic band of his boxers. The tiny hiss didn't escape her ears once burning flesh met cool air. She buried her face between his legs, yanking the obstructive fabric lower. His scent was intoxicating. She tenderly gripped his painfully hard cock, licking her lips at the sight of the pearl drops around the tip.
His hand dug into her scalp, raking the rich midnight tresses, silently encouraging her on. She purposely missed the needy erection, going lower. The sharp cry resonated off the walls as one ball slid between her lips. Her skilled tongue worked around and slid along the bottom, a finger teasing his perineum. He continued watching, fingers carding through her hair. Her attention went to the other, showering the neglected gland with equal fervor. Fuck, she knew how to work him with that mouth. Those full lips, that velvet tongue...
"That's it," he groaned and tilted his head back, the wet warmth finally enclosing around him. He gently rocked his hips, going to slow to let her adjust. "Gonna cum down that beautiful throat."
His pace quickened, hips snapping as he drove deeper in her mouth. She easily took all of him, throat relaxed, tongue caressing as he continued fucking her mouth. He could feel the heaviness grow, building like a storm in his lower body. She heard him grunting and growling with groans and pants mixing in between. She lightly raked her nails across the skin, just above the base of his cock, sending waves through his being. His vision exploded into white as he felt himself going over.
"Fuck, Lex," the dam burst. The earthy hues splashed across her tongue and down her throat. She continued suckling, catching every bit he had to give. The frantic panting and crying out turning her on. The violent snaps slowed, now slow lazy thrusts. His cock softened, spent from an amazing trip into ecstasy. He gathered his composure, tilting his head down. Her lips still attached, taking every last drop.
She rose, licking the last few bits from her lips. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. The hints of his cum teased the tip of his tongue as he deepened the kiss. She felt his powerful hands gripping her arms before reaching down. She leapt into his arms. With pants still around his ankles, he made it to the couch, easing her down. With another hard kiss, he undid the button and fly of her jeans, sliding them down in a teasing fashion.
"My turn," the sexy growl sent shivers through her core.
Chris' charge was now racing for the closest bathroom, another man hot on his ass. Sensing something was off, the older man rushed across the bar, racing into the bathroom. He kicked the door open, coming upon a disturbing scene.
His ward was hunched over the sink, hands curled tight on the counter. The other man, who had to almost be his age, had pulled the younger man's pants down, fondling the semi-hard erection. A finger was between the slender ass. A glazed over expression locked on his face. It didn't take a genius to see he had been drugged. Chris stormed into the tiny space, ripping the would-be rapist away from his charge. The man was slammed against the opposite wall, shock painted across his face. A large fist slammed against his jaw then eye. Another blow to the solar plexus followed by another and another.
His victim had slid to the floor, curled into the fetal position, pants pooled around his ankles. Chris continued punching the creeper until several men hurried in, pulling the pair apart. They saw the smaller man on the floor, then at the bloodied form slumped against the wall. Chris wrestled from their hold, priority to get the unconscious party goer out of there and home. Quickly pulling his pants and boxers up, Chris hoisted the dead weight up and over his shoulder, weaving through the gather crowd and out into the warm night. Daddy was going to love hearing about this one.
After explaining to said crime boss what transpired, Chris was shocked to find the man was not surprised. The person Chris described was someone who ran with a well known crime outfit that would drug, rape, then sell young men into sexual slavery.
"He will be dealt with accordingly. Thank you for saving my son."
The man had paid very generously, more than what was initially agreed upon. Chris returned to his cheap little dump. It reeked of cigarettes and vodka. The night's haul would mean an extra bottle of whiskey and pack of smokes. The dim lighting of the room reflected blood on his coat and shirt. A few drops smeared his cheek. Growling to himself, Chris peeled away the soiled articles but kept the St. Christopher medallion on as he let the hot jets embrace him.
As he lay down on the flimsy bed and drew up the covers, Chris closed his eyes, mind spinning as he waited for slumber's shadowy kiss. A part of him hoped she would come back to him in his dreams. He had become drawn to this mystery woman. Chris couldn't put his finger on it, but, her visits brought him comfort. When he'd sit at the bar, downing whiskey or bourbon, his mind would always drift towards her.
Somewhere in the area between consciousness and unconsciousness, a name passed his lips.
"Alexandra..."
DC was perched at his laptop as his coffee grew cold. Between deployments to Tampa, Seattle, Fairbanks, and some tiny ass town in New Mexico, he didn't have much for his first love: reading. Still, he always had a copy of some work close by. He was hoping to hear back from some of his contacts overseas, perhaps with some good news about the whereabouts of Chris Redfield. DC didn't know the man personally, but, he was a legend within the B.S.A.A.'s ranks. Anyone who had enlisted knew the stories: good, bad and ugly. The recent events in Edonia fell under bad and ugly.
The S.O.U. operative had received an urgent call from Captain Crispin Jettingham, requesting his assistance in locating the missing captain. It had been late, and he had just fallen asleep.
"DC, it's Captain Jettingham, European Division."
"Jettingham? Weren't you at Raccoon City?"
"Yeah. Look, I need your help. Agent Nivans is currently in the Balkans. He and Redfield's fiancee have been scouring Europe since January trying to find him. So far, they've had B.O.W.s attack them at about every turn only to meet dead ends. We also received information that Neo-Umbrella is after her."
"Shit. I'll make the calls."
"Thanks, DC."
DC shook his head. The story of Alexandra Koch was no secret in the B.S.A.A. She had been held at the medical facility in the States after Chris found her. Weeks of testing, prodding and poking compounded the agony she must've suffered at the hands of Albert Wesker. A test subject for a madman, made to do his bidding, tormented, and god knows what else. Chris had fought like Hell to get her out, arguing and fighting to show she was no threat to anyone. Several members of the powers to be wanted to keep Alex locked away like an animal; never to see the light of day or be free again.
Chris refused to let her be sentenced to such a fate.
Another several months of cognitive testing and psych evaluations finally proved what Chris had been saying all along, granted she continued to check in and provide samples. The ability of the Tyrant Virus to fuse with her DNA was the talk of the research department. DC had seen some of the files, finding himself shocked by the findings. Her body didn't mutate like those who had been infected but rather, evolved her body.
His musings interrupted by his cell going off.
"Whatcha got?" DC listened, raising an eyebrow. "Son of a bitch. Thanks."
Nothing yet.
The man flipped the listening device off and pursed his lips. His own men continued their hunt, scouring the tiny towns and mountain villages, following up on leads and chasing rumors. Now that it was known Neo-Umbrella was after her, the urgency picked up. He shouldn't have expected anything less from that bitch, Carla Radames and bastard, Derek Simmons, especially after Sherry Birkin and Jake Mueller went missing after Edonia. Simmons' and Radames' putrid stenches were all over that operation.
He sipped his wine, knowing his men worked fast. They had access to for more superior technology than the B.S.A.A., greater resources and a wide network of contacts to which a net was cast over. He refused to pray as he had stopped believing in silly superstitions years before. He used to pray, when he was young, but his words would fall upon deaf ears.
He pulled up the screens, observing the locations of his team. Pushing a button, the map zoomed in, enlarging Eastern Europe. Sharp blue eyes took it in, studying the marks where the pair had been then at the marks where his team had been to. It was then a realization was coming to surface.
"It can't be that easy or can it."
Snatching his phone up, he hastily punched in a number.
"It's me. I think I know where Agent Redfield may be."
"Damn it," Piers muttered. They were at the third town that week and still no signs indicating Chris had been through. Alex thanked the bartender and patrons before replacing the photo in her pocket. They were running out of countries; well, at least the ones that weren't balls deep in some kind of violent conflict.
"Anything from Jettingham?" Piers inquired as they returned to the room.
"Not yet," she sighed. "DC didn't have anything and Jill has nada."
"Maybe tomorrow," Alex sadly sighed. Piers could only nod. He noticed Alex had been more determined in the last few weeks, instead of yelling and screaming at people, her voice stayed level. She thanked everyone who would take a moment to look at Chris' picture. Alex had also been eating more in the last month. Piers wondered if that was due to the virus and not because of her mental state.
"I guess I'll shower," she grabbed her stuff and went for the bathroom. "I know I'm asking for a lot, but maybe Crispin or DC will call with something."
"Maybe," the marksman nodded. He watched as she closed the door behind her then fell backwards on the bed. He draped an arm over his eyes, taking a deep breath. Their shift in tactics had hopefully kept Neo-Umbrella off their trails. While they couldn't pull it off like his captain had, Piers still knew a trick or two in counter intelligence.
As he felt himself start to fall asleep, his phone went off.
"Nivans."
"Piers, it's DC. He's been found."
Piers sat up, heart now pounding, hands shaking. "Are we sure? Where?!"
"I'm sending you the photo. It was taken in Edonia."
His phone pinged. Piers opened the text, mouth dropping open. It was him. It was his captain. Chris was alive. He was seated at the bar, glass in one hand, cigarette in the other. The Saint Christopher's medallion dangling from his neck.
"How long ago was this taken?"
"Within the last 24 hours. Eyes are still on him. He's alive, Piers. We received confirmation it's him."
"Almost 6 months of searching..." the marksman breathed.
"I know. Tell Alex the news. I'll call Jettingham. I wanted to call you first with the news."
"Thank you, DC."
"No problem! Now, go get his ass and bring him home."
Piers hung up, taking in DC's words. The closure they sought had arrived. He waited for Alex to get out of the bathroom.
"Any news?" She started towel drying her hair.
"Yeah," Piers stood, taking the towel out of her hands, "There is."
"He's dead isn't he?" Alex felt her chest constricting and jaw clench. She tried to keep calm but inside she was terrified. This was what she feared the most: finding out Chris had died. Alone.
"No," Piers shook his head and stroked her hands reassuringly. "They found him. Chris is alive and in Edonia."
She felt her knees start to buckle, and hands tremble. "Edonia? I need to sit down."
He helped her sit on the edge of the bed, keeping her hands in his. He felt them shaking in his hold.
"DC sent a photo," he pulled out his phone, showing the image. Alex felt her breath being taken away. After all these months, she was seeing him for the first time since that day in January. He still had the medallion. Hope filled her heart.
"We have to go," Alex started throwing her clothes in her bag.
"Alex," Piers gently stopped her. "DC said they have eyes on him. If he goes anywhere, they're going to know."
"But what if he slips them?"
"DC's contacts said he doesn't go anywhere. He's been drinking, smoking, and according to the locals, playing babysitter for money. He goes to some hotel."
"Has he...has anyone been..."
"I don't know, Alex. I don't have all the answers. Right now, you need to rest. Neither of us are in any shape to travel. DC will keep me posted if anything changes. He's already let Crispin and Jill know. Trust me, eyes are going to be trained on him until we get him home."
"I just wanna see him, Piers."
"So do I, Alex."
"I can't believe he's been found," she wrapped her arms around him, tears of joy flooding her eyes. He found himself planting a kiss to the top of her head. Piers was thrilled but couldn't help to feel some melancholy at the same time.
"Hard to fathom after nearly six months."
Neither one could find sleep that night.