Resident Evil Series Fan Fiction ❯ Irresolute ❯ The Memories ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter 3: The Memories

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One year ago, Chris Redfield was seated alone at the far right of the bench where the lights dimmed. Folding and unfolding his hands he let his eyesight adjust to the darkness. It certainly was true, the larger the room the more eerie the provided silence. The good ol' abandoned office look was what it really felt like when he glanced at the emptied desks and neatly polished podium in the center. Who would have thought that a bunch of men and men only could get down and organize…well truth be told that was impossible. The explanation behind the immaculate board room was because it was the only room out of eighty something that was kept tidy.

Easy enough for eight hundred men to handle. Chris thought with a wry smile.

He could see his hands and glanced deep into his open palms. The soft sweat could be barely seen by his naked eye and Chris Redfield hated how he perspired so easily through his hands of all places and by just sitting and waiting...but for what? No, he just needed some time to think...but what was he thinking about?

“Focus.” He mumbled and leaned back. Perseverance was going to be ahead of his anxiety if he was going to plan let alone think straight.

He reached the butt of his weapon from his back pocket and pulled it out in one fine sweep. Running the fine metal to his lap, his brown eyes narrowed; the very same of a doting older brother and a professional shot. When he was done scanning it for grazes Chris seized the handle--a little eager to feel the grip--and--

--With very precise engagement he flipped it, loaded it, polished it, and aimed it; all in a cycle so quick that if he wasn't alone in the briefing room, he'd be the center of attention.

At last, after the third time around, Chris settled the standard pistol in both his hands. He smiled, steady satisfaction was what it read.

The image of his gun, prepped and shining under the faded lights, it made him feel admirable and no sooner he found himself fiddling with the handle as he trained it's grey nozzle straight ahead. Being prepared was something he tended to overlook in the past, often times they were the death of his prior career choices and literally with grim reality they were the death of his friends as well.

Steadily he loaded a full 15 gauge ammo clip inside and smacked it shut with swift, professional touch. --Not anymore. He wasn't walking into the arena with his eyes closed, he had a new pair that were although still carrying the same trust they were not completely jaded by the world. He was up for what ever came bouncing along. Not recklessly, okay, but maybe just a little if it was necessary… But, he wasn't going to run in head first unless...unless...

"Aw hell." He grabbed his own head and racked his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what the hell he was talking about; he just wanted to be ready, ready for anything when he knew fully well that wasn't possible to begin with. Umbrella was gone and a whole new face of evil was up to bat. It was Spencer mansion all over again, surprises at every corner. And he was dammed sick of it.

"God dammit" He swore softly. It never rained but it goddamn poured.

Head still looking down, shaking to and fro, Chris spotted the gun he had unknowingly dropped before his seat. He stretched his legs out and pocketed it back in possession with a small frown.

“Practicing?”

“Yeah.” Chris answered in just the same sarcastic matter. He shrugged his shoulders back with small defiance still brooding in his veins as he set his gun down.

The newcomer strode himself to the head desk, which was wide enough to be considered a dining table. He stared out into the empty rows and eventually met Chris' gaze with open eyes.

Carlos leaned on his elbows. Chris finally under his eyes, he drummed his fingers across the wooden base.

“Well…there's a better shooting range down the hall if you ask me." He jerked his head left for emphasis and slowly rolled his head back to Chris.. "You know, the one that's filled with red targets and not computers an' screenings maps..?”

The handsome brunette chuckled, deprived from his melancholic musings. He slipped one hand to the side of his face and closed his eyes. He could use a drink.

“I wasn't going to shoot anything, Carlos." He paused for a moment to shake his head. "I was just polishing it.”

“Suure you were.” The always easily humored man acknowledged. His eyes lit up slightly at the weapon resting to his comrades' side. “Ah. You're abuelos' old time companion?”

Chris glanced at him tiredly but eventually smiled as he reached to hold the said piece.. He must have told Carlos the story at some point but he'd somehow forgotten. “Just a “friend” from an old friend if you catch me drift.”

Carlos shrugged. “But old meaning old, no?” He nodded and Carlos shook his head, smiling, leaving Chris slightly perplexed. “Yeah...too old to be fighting here with us bad boys. It's a good thing you sent him home…friend.”

Chris laughed at that, knowing how much the hired gun hated repeating words in a conversation.

“He was stubborn at first, but he eventually let it go. Cop or no cop a family man stays with his family, period.”

He nearly jumped when the other man slapped his shoulder; cackling.

“Hoho! Speak for yourself, amigo. That sister of yours counts for at least ten little hermanas if not twenty.”

“...She certainly is a mouthful.” The brother agreed his tone completely serious.

“I'll say...” Carlos grinned and took his seat beside him. Chris replayed his words into a deeper meaning and the Hispanic man shifted a distance the second he saw Redfield's' eyes widen. “Chill man” he joked., “She's too young for me, besides, she doesn't even know I'm here!” He threw his arms out in a half shrug. “What could go possibly go wrong?”

Chris sighed and gathered his head in his hands again. “A lot of things...friend.” Carlos frowned for more than the initial reason. “She'll find out soon enough, and when she does that's when I'm going to have to come to terms and do it.”

The Hispanic clicked his tongue and quirked his eyes half shut. “Do what?” He asked.

It was a long painful sigh before Carlos saw the answer in Chris' tired eyes. He too couldn't help but share the same emotion. They both sat in silence for a moment. Each of them dawning over what was going to happen sooner or later.

"No way... You're serious?"

Chris nodded. “I am. I'm going to let her join.”

“Like hell you are!” A not so clear feminine voice interrupted. The woman emerged from the supposedly empty office cubicle in the far right corner, a thick sheet of paper in one hand and a crumpled can in the other. She trudged up to the men, barefoot but her feet stomped loudly across the carpet to their unfortunate ears.

"What…" He was going to ask how long she'd been here but Carlos' habit of being the more outspoken had gotten in word first.

"Jill!? Your supposed to be--."

"That doesn't matter." She past him like a blow in the wind and stormed to Chris on wobbled feet. Angrily she tossed the empty can aside and stood face to face with her partner in crime. Chris looked at into her eyes and was breathless. Blue sapphire stones although, inebriated and hazy we're tanking him into a state of exposure.

He moved to embrace her, to possibly explain the meaning behind his words while he comforted her but she pushed him back and Carlos jumped back as he watched his friend nearly flip over the bench seat.

"You're crazy--do you want another accident!? Do you want to it to happen again?!"

Chris rose from the floor, his eyes wide with anger.

"What do you mean accident? What happened? Nothing happened!" He protested.

"That's bull! I told you" She screamed back which she wouldn't have been had she not turned to drinking the moment she returned from her assignment.

Carlos approached the two on unsteady feet. He'd seen her angry but never vulnerable and hopelessly lost in rage She was always dead center on her mind and word. “Jill…” He managed above a whisper.

She turned to him and raised her fist, slightly ramming his shoulder. "We lost her, Carlos!” She drawled pathetically. “We lost her because..."

“Lost who, chica?” His voice losing any power whatsoever.

Chris stepped to join the two. He grabbed Jill, effectively pulling her from the other man and to his face instead. His hands snaked around Jill's neck and he pulled her in close, so she was resting her forehead into his shoulder

“Cuh--Chr—i--is?” Her voice was breaking into pieces.

"We didn't lose anyone.” He whispered darkly, his words were hanging on an edge but he was truly scared. “Jill,” he felt Carlos' hand on his shoulder, swallowed and then continued. The hardest part. “What…what happened? Tell me...”

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Walking without his mind on track, Ryman easily remembered better days. For instance, answering the door to seven people whom he'd never thought he'd see in a life time. He was confused at first, partially because it was past midnight and he was way passed being sober, but all of that seemed to whisk away when the tallest of the group stepped to him and slapped him hard on the back. He wasn't smiling but he wasn't joking either when he said...

"Pack your bags kid. You're moving in with us."

Kevin though back to his first initial reaction and couldn't help a smiling sigh. His damn immature and impish nature had kicked in a little too fast as his eyes went wide at the sight of Cindy and Yoko to David and Jim-- the age categories ranging from twenty to forty. Alysa angrily stepped in his way before he could word anything remotely suggestive on living in something that could rival those tartly reality shows.

"Don't even try it, Ryman." she showed him her fist just to be clear. “Just shut up and get your stuff."

"Yes ma'am." He muttered.

He didn't remember what he packed but it was probably just the essentials. His job didn't exactly hold money for extra things like STARS had promised him in the past. With a strange mix of guilt and relief he thought of the business he'd barely been apart of for no longer than a month. Compared to a security guard, the police rookie position was godlike. That made Kevin smile and he touched his old badge on impulse. He could make out Jim staring at him through his grey weary eyes, his small frown deeming into a small smile when he told him about his new job and his new life.

"You'll do fine Kevin, you always have been." The humble gambler assured him from the left seat. He patted him softly on the back where Mark practically dented his shoulder bone.

"Ugh." Kevin frowned immediately and set his suitcase on his lap with steady hands. When could that woman keep her mouth shut. "Is somebody going to explain to him what's going on?" Alyssa said.

"That would be your job since you were the one who opted into this while thing." Kevin's mouth hang agape while the whole crew lapsed into a silence inside the sturdy van. He couldn't decide what was more surprising. The awesome comeback that left Alyssa silent or the fact that David spoke more than five words.

"...He is right you know, Lyss." Cindy added thoughtfully from the back seat. Beside her, Yoko Suzuki nodded her head.

"Fine. Fine!" The short haired blonde threw her arms on her lap and whisked toward the ex rookie cop. Her eyes glared from the passengers seat. "I'll tell you."

Kevin made a quick right as he rounded the corridor, somewhere in between a flashback and the present.

--And by god it wasn't as if he didn't know what was happening! He was hung over for goodness sakes, any man would be after a fourteen hour shift and returning to a lonely run down apartment. Kevin laughed. It would not have mattered if he tried to deny an obvious explanation or if he worked for Umbrella-- because Alyssa's' impression of him as an all around idiot would never change. She would tell him and did tell him about Umbrella; how they ruined their lives, her life, his life and the whole kitten ka boodle. Kevin chuckled again as he remembered her scolding and lecturing tone as she went on and on. --Not like you'd know what I'm talking about anyway." she would always say at the end of every sentence.

Definitely a go figure there.

He also remembered when he registered his identity along side them. He stood, glancing up from his papers and saw them all in a single file, once and a while glancing at each other, their smiles breaking into grins. They liked him, they all did. He sent them a scowling smile right back and right then and there, he knew this unlikely crew would always be together. Combined, their talents climbed over mountains of any progress on any level. Screw the superhero requirements and a utility belt they had everything they ever needed.

Suddenly, a slow loneliness cast over his eyes as he stopped short. It was the last hallway. Slowly, Kevin's smile faded.

The charade of a reunion lasted no more than two weeks and now they hardly saw any of each other but the hair on the back of their heads. They were split up like cattle and caged off in different pens--sorry, Kevin idly thought, his eyes slanting. ...quarters.

In his days aboard now, the ex cop had spent his time answering questions without a word answered on his part, and other times, helping out in the weapons department with the newly recruited. Before he'd been eager about the involvement but first impressions always had a tendency to mislead. This agency Alyssa found might have been fighting for a greater cause in the world, but at times Kevin felt more of a prisoner to his work than as a volunteer. (And at other times he wondered if this was all intentional.) Nevertheless, his aid and experience had proved surprisingly useful to the organization and post haste, to another surprise, he was put on an ill fated 24 hour call in the training grounds. Kevin easily remembered the sound of defeat he made when he read his schedule. He gritted his teeth at the ones in charge. Screw them, he had a new meaning for the letters of B.S. and A.A.

The last he'd seen of the others were in a seconds glance. In all he was told, which was little to nothing, Kevin would have even believed if they were spread across the globe by now...but, that was stretching it since he did get some information.

David was assigned on pick up supply and was constantly on call like him, except he got to see the sunlight ever now and then. According to what he got out of him, he was heading for the hilltops of Russia; Mt. Elders or something like that, he couldn't remember. Mark was still around but he was a walking time bomb. If the ex cop recalled, their last conversation ended on a slightly suicidal note (Which was really no different on a normal day.) when he told him to take away his belt and shoelaces before bed. Kevin shuddered. It was a good thing it was just work and stress that was driving his mouth and not war flashbacks...or him.

Speaking of flashbacks, he at last blanked out of his memory trip and shook his head clean. His brazen eyes looked around quickly enough to get an idea of his loation. A little hazy at first but he was able to see the sign to his left reading "Authorized Personnel Only" and Kevin couldn't resist a grin. He reached for the handle bar, just enough to squeeze the cold metal when--

“Don't even try it, Kevin.”

And his shoulders dropped like dead weight from behind, earning the feminine voice a sense of control. Behind him, she crossed her arms as his body language righted her exact thoughts. Kevin's' back was out and it slacked in a slightly humorous fashion, even as he turned to face her he looked like a hunchback in defeat.

Yoko stiffed for a moment when she realized his eyes had been tracing her curled lips in delight. She had been thinking of past times again too... Quickly, she clamped a frown and under her gaze, the muddy blonde fellow immediately sobered up in the face. Halfway on a slant and oblivious as ever to her scolding brown eyes watching his every move, he stuck his thumb over his shoulder and pointed casually to the door behind him. The door that was now in undeniable question.

“Yeesh, doc." he explained and Yoko glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was smiling, almost sympathetically at her, then the to the door, then again at her. "I was just gonna check in on a few things... I mean look, the lights are practically dead in there.”

Yoko took a deep breath and steadily let it go as she watched the young man turn away and lock eyes with the steel and ivory door again. It had a long handlebar instead of a knob and the bottom corners were locked with chrome plates embedded from the side walls. It was the infirmary to her as it was unauthorized property to those who were not apart of the medical staff.

Kevin glanced back her way and then to the door again with a quick sigh. He wasn't stupid no, he just hated secrets more than anything.

But to put it more simply, he was lonely and more so worried about his comrades.

Yoko reached out and touched his shoulder and Kevin, trained to hide spontaneous gestures, visibly flinched as he turned to face her with a wary smile.

“I'll ask David to take a look at it when he gets back.” She answered and quickly added. “Now c'mon, it's off limits here, you know that. Surveillance is down.”

“You're honestly going to wait that long? Aren't there people--”

He didn't get to finish as Yoko shoved him towards the exit.

“Of course I haven't forgotten about that! I'm not an idiot, so just shut up!” at the look of his confused honey eyes, Yoko bit her lip. Through her life, emotions were hardly apparent but with a job title as dignified and pressurizing as “head doctor” things seemed to slip out every occasion between her small gritted teeth.

She frowned back at the slightly attractive cop. He was foolish but caring and she'd been grateful for his support when he answered her call but he was obviously having trouble adjusting to this "new person" she was becoming.

Yoko's frown quickly faded into a thin line of poignancy and she looked away at the ivory colored door standing like some sort of entrance to hell. If she was going to save lives, her old, reclusive self was not going to be help. It may have given her a sense of innocence that he liked in her but innocence was not going to win the long battle ahead.

“I know I've changed, Kevin…" she whispered. And Kevin could almost feel those words weren't just directed at him. "...But innocence is not going to stop them.”

He was convinced there. He took a few steps back and casually rested an arm on his hip.

“Hey, I never said you shouldn't speak your mind. It's just different seeing you act like this--Actually it's weird. Scary weird. Like Alyssa..." He pictured the short haired blonde smiling angelically his way and shuddered, not realizing the warmth spreading to his cheeks. "L-Like David suddenly growing a sense of humor or something..”

Yoko laughed briefly although it sounded a little strained.

“The only reason David doesn't like your blonde jokes is because he doesn't want to get clobbered along with you once Cindy finds out.”

“Man…” He started to say something when the small black haired woman passed him and started for the door he was strictly told to avoid. “Hey! Hey! Wait up! What are you doing?!”

“Kevin, you're not a doctor.” She couldn't' help but stifle a laugh at the look on his face that was so readily protective of her. She had no idea that in Davids absence the plumber had beaten a promise into the rookie cops skull to keep her safe. She smiled slightly before turning the knob. “I'll be fine… Now go.”

She heard his legs shift closer for a moment, but they stopped in place and Kevin sighed in defeat. With his first and last regard to “stay sharp an keep in touch”, Ryman stuffed his warm hands into his jean pockets and was out of the hall in twenty steps.

Yoko waited until he was gone completely from sight and sound before kneeling down and removing the locks with a foreign mechanism each staff member was given. Once the locks were loose she kicked them aside and entered the room quietly on her feet. She felt the fading lights on the back of her white lab coat and recalled Kevin's innocent words on instinct. He truly had no idea and was way better off.

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Even in a car, even in a piece of shit metal burning on a skittle that was still in the middle of nowhere, this guy just wouldn't stop. Conversing in the military was of no straight comparison to government business talk and Billy didn't even try to understand why Leon was mouthing off about how they'd be taking a detour. He just grunted a response. The hell would he know or care? In his days as lieutenant, if he screwed up, it was communicated though loud explicit cursing and an up side smack to his own head...and then later, a much more disciplined smack from his commander.

Slowly, Coen unraveled the shirt pieces he wrapped around his bloodied hand. Karma or whatever the cause, it had somehow gotten caught between two heavy stockpiles of cargo, and just as he was about to ease it out, the car had jump started and his hand scraped hard against the sharp side of a metal stag he didn't even know was there.

Ten minutes from then it had swelled up thanks to the heat so it looked like the very least of his problems for now... Not that it hurt, he simply couldn't tell. Was it the motto "If it doesn't hurt in the center your not dead" or was it the fact that they beat him up so bad last night he was numb? He couldn't remember or tell from it either.

But he could hear and he heard an edged laughter in the agents breath as he continued to explained how he was going to have his ears chewed off once they arrived.

Billy tried another look at the guy and found himself wondering again. Really, Leon didn't seem to fit the type, at least not completely; his dirty blonde hair and smug voice hinted at least a fifth of his cynical humor. To the con he passed more of as a freelancer; a man they called on at the last minute. Prior, Billy only thought that dream jobs like those existed in the movies, but perhaps if hordes of zombies and monsters could emerge while he was in prison then why not super secret agents?

His head hurt again and he cautiously rested his back against what felt like a flat smooth surface.

Leon cleared his throat and began to speak again and Billy promptly shut his eyes. He hoped he just had something to swallow. No such luck.

“You mind telling me why you were so intent on dieing back there? If you ask me, I don't think living out here is so bad...”

“…”

“I take it was bad?” Billy yawned obscenely.

“...If it was, there wouldn't be people.” Leon rubbed his chin and glanced at his unwelcoming partner through the cracked mirror. Things were going too slow and his job was a very demanding albeit a well paid one.

“Okay so touché then.” He muttered. On a whim he decided to up the ante on the sarcasm. Maybe it would help since Coen never seemed to stop being so damn cynical all the time. “So you were enjoying your second life I take it?”

It became quiet and Leon focused on the road rather than the cons' icy glare through the mirror.

"Don't threaten me with something I've already lost." He sneered.

"At the very least, it's just a question." Leon sighed.

"You can answer it for me better. Hearing someone else talk about my life gives me so much comfort it kills me."

Leon laughed, or at best, forced himself to. The tone in Coens's voice was near sinister.

“I think you're getting paranoid.” Altogether he was surprised he could voice his first initial thought. Leon tried to add something reassuring as he could feel the other mans eyes on his back. "Circumstances prior I mean..."

“Shut up.”

Now Leon was amused. He ducked his head to the wheel and swallowed a hollow laugh. This guy was priceless. The curt and short way he told him to close his mouth. He eased himself, both back into the seat and into what anyone else would have assumed as 'the worst start of a conversation'. ...But they obviously didn't know Leon Scott Kennedy.

“No really. If I were you in your situation, I'd probably be making all sorts of assumptions. ”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Plus, I don't think it matters where you kill someone as long as there dead.”

At the agents' light suggestion, Billy sighed, shook his head, and then dropped his head back, giving the most humorless laugh his dried lungs could rally. Leon suddenly felt intimidated for hiding his amusement before.

“You're an idiot.” The con finally said. He didn't quite hear himself say it the first time so he repeated it, much more emphasis on every word.

“And why is that?” Mock curiosity tainted Leon's voice with a smug smile. To say he dealt with backtalk was an understatement. No. He dealt with bullshit. And this was the least of any he'd been forced to eat.

Billy sighed. “Because, Idiot, you're government shit--you're supposed to know all about me, right?" Leon quirked an eyebrow his way and said nothing but couldn't keep a low smile from curving. The truth was, the idiocy they were both putting on was actually amusing him. The two of them playing dumb to get info. "It would matter if I was killed somewhere else because my death would be made public.”

So it really was a cover up. But why..?

Then it hit him hard, like a needle to the head. Blondie suddenly recalled their location and grinned sheepishly. They were in Mexico, the prime haven and solution for fugitives of any kind. Boy, the heat was truly getting to him.

Leon's dumb smile faded at his critical expression. Sighing softly, the agent racked a wave of bangs to the side of his face.

“Ah.” he managed. Acknowledging a completely different subject unknown to Billy.

“Yeah. Ah.” Billy echoed and frowned at the reflection of Leon's' smile.

“Well I guess it's all starting to make sense now...”

Billy scoffed, his cobalt eyes half closed and just about on anywhere but the agent. He was growing impatient with Leon regardless of what he thought a good ten minutes ago. He was also beginning to think this guy was just some guy, doing his job to the T when he actually could care less about the statistics of the orders. Either that or he was purposely pissing him off.

“You wanna shed some'ore light on that. Leon.”

"In a few." He answered shortly and peered ahead with scanning eyes. His mind was momentarily focused on direction rather than explaining himself for the moment.

An assortment of weeds and grass was peaking from the stained rough dirt on an overhead hill, A strangely familiar landmark he noticed after a hard stare. over the blind spot. If memory served, town was just ahead and the parked ferry boat was in no less than thirty feet from there. When he was done with his calculations, Leon quickly mulled and then finally gave his answer.

“That's right." he recalled to himself. "They told me you were preemptive, ruthless and above all; an ass.”

“Ain't that the truth.” Billy muttered tiredly.

A sound shriek of wheels in the dirt emitted as the vehicle skidded to a stop. Leon whisked the useless keys from the holder and whipped around in his seat, body language casual and firm.

“Believe it or not Coen, we are in dire need of that sort of attitude." Leon said in a harsh whisper.

"We?" The pinch of interest in his blue eyes became hidden as they narrowed. "So what your Government wants is me? Well you can tell them.." Leon shook his head, cutting in fast.

"No not exactly. Poor choice of words. Anyway, it's not my government so no. It's Umbrella that wants you." He immediately felt the cons eyes on him after relaying the information. Leon closed his eyes for a moment and thought that perhaps, he should have taken it at a slower pace. A small silence passed until he heard a resolute click of a metal handle and footsteps reshuffling into the dirt. Coen was sitting at the edge of the doorway with his back arched forward and his hands on his knees. His eyes were forward at the town but distant as if he was reading something that wasn't there, and Leon knew just what.

Aw hell. There it was again. The word "Umbrella". A heavy twinge of adrenaline surged through his stomach and Billy stopped dead in his tracks, all entirely by instinct. The first time he heard it he paid no mind, hell he was hardly awake let alone alive to respond to whatever the blonde was saying as he, intruded, freed, and helped his life get back on track. But wait, what the hell? Umbrella wanted him?

Billy sat back, pulling the door shut with good thunk. He was unwilling to accept everything with a blundering headache. He grabbed his forehead with his better hand and muttered. “I don't believe you."

"They wanted you before, Coen." Leon said as gentle and honest as he could but failed at the anger he was getting.

"I'm touched, really. But no." He muttered darkly, contradicting the anger in his voice when he shook his head in his hands, still weaseling through the denial state.

"Listen to me!" Leon snapped lightly. "Like it or not, what you know is vital information and the gov--

The con stopped short and turned toward him, “Wait a damn minute.”--close enough for Leon to instinctively reach for his knife pocket but stopped halfway; and he truly wish he hadn't. Billy Coen might not have been classified as a murderer according to his superiors but his cold and steely cobalt eyes were starting to say otherwise.

“Your government wants to know about Umbrella from me?" Leon nodded taking a step back and Billy snorted. "What the hells to know! That's bullshit! Don't they already know enough from Raccoon? The entire city was destroyed!” He spat.

It became silent again, this time, to a point where either side wondered if to take action or not.

“..So you do know.” Leon's voice was barely above a whisper. His thoughts swerved into a deep muse that he didn't even notice the signs of civilization ahead.

Neither spoke any further, the tension was indeed rising but in another direction and Leon was mildly relived. The lieutenant was spawning hatred on something else other than him thanks to his little slip. Though, regardless on how much he was told about Billy and how much he figured, Leon wasn't completely out of his way. Coen would only be able to know the truth completely once they arrived at their destination.

If this doesn't motivate him, nothing else will.

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"Chris? Chris! Hello? Wake up!"

Chris Redfield stirred. He was sitting halfway out of his chair, his legs out and his head slightly tilted on one hand while the other dangled off his lap. His tired eyes saw his sister roll her eyes at him from across and he yawned obscenely just to tick her off. Barely in the mood to stretch his back all the way out, he tried relaxing into his seat with obvious discomfort on his face. The people, voices, luggage, wheels; the noise was unbearable in the airport--and thanks to untimely schedules', he'd be stuck here for another hour.

He considered retuning to his nap when a loud tone emitted from the PA system.

“Attention” Both of them twitched slightly in the eye. It was that robotic voice of a female again. Whose calm and collected voice was anything but assuring thanks to past memories. “Flights 419, 283, and 160 will be arriving 30 minutes ahead of schedule.” The speaker closed with a heavy click. Claire felt her hand reaching for the middle of her chest, her heart was racing as expected.

Great. Chris's brow furrowed. He felt like sinking into his seat and muttering a stream of curses but his sister seated next to him would probably leave then. Unbeknown to him she was keeping a worry eye out.

“Chris!”

There, a few yards ahead was a light brunette heading his way, waving with one hand, and all the while trying to pace herself without losing a grip on her bags. At the moment Chris stood, Jill Valentine tripped over her own two feet and unsuspectingly flew into his arms.

“Whoa, hang on there.” Chris laughed as he gathered her up in an awkward hug. Jill slowly untangled herself from his arms when their fingers brushed and suddenly caught onto the string of her ticket bracelet. The two faces flushed together, although deeply amused at their situation.

Claire didn't look up from her magazine, a little stiff when it came to his STARS teammates as she had never met them personally more than a few minutes...

Once the two were done snatching off their friendship bracelet as she heard Chris mutter, they exchanged their welcomes properly in an although mockingly manner. Claire rolled her eyes but didn't let he smug face shy away as she watched the two.

At that point she rose from her chair and walked over to them. Jill practically jumped out of her skin when their eyes met.

“Claire?” The man beside her suppressed a chuckle as he watched his partners' bold eyes blink in confusion. “Guess I didn't even see you there…” Jill smiled at Claire as she rubbed her arm absentmindedly. “Yeah, it must have been the air sickness...”

“C'mon.” Chris edged the two women onward. Once he got Jill's' luggage properly strapped to his shoulder he slung both arms around the women. “Anyway. I thought your flight was delayed?” He asked his companion, oblivious to her still flustered face, now growing.

“No…it wasn't.” She replied, ignoring his reaction as she slid out of his arm. Claire decided to cut in at this point, hiding any traces of amusement on her face.

“It was flight 282, right Jill?” She nodded

“But that's…“ Chris paused and muttered to himself while Claire calmly removed his arm around her shoulder. “A-Anyway…” He said in his best professional voice. “We've got bigger things to take care of.”

Claire sighed exasperatedly at her brother.

“Always so tense...” She said, and then almost immediately prepared herself as her brother twitched and spun around, eyes narrowed and flaring at her challenge. Jill smiled weakly as she watched the pair go at it. It was tempting, but she decided not to interfere this time, as she also knew the consequences of getting between two Red fields.

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Leon Kennedy looked up at the blank and beautiful sky as he felt the best part of the hour shadow him. He stretched his arm up, the one baring his watch, and recalled the time from the blazing sunny glare around his wrist; it followed a heavy, heavy frown and Leon let his arm fall limp out of displeasure.

Afternoon, otherwise the symbol to anyone on a workload that the day was near done and a lunch break was in well reaching hands. The agent suppressed a low growl in his stomach with his own groan. Well, it would have been in reach had the blasted jeep not broken down. Just his luck too. Around the ten minutes after he jacked the engine alive and was starting to feel somewhat relaxed the thing gave out like a dieing jackass.

It was the first time Billy had been put to use other than in the vocabulary department. With the heavy muscled ex marine along his side they managed to haul the load of questionably dear cargo all the way to the nearest town. It was there where Leon decided to take a risk and park the dead metal in a repair garage of a trusted friend he knew outside of work. While Billy waited outside, slightly reluctant to do just about anything but sit and sleep--Leon bid his farewell and the two set off again into the scorching sun.

Now, instead of three hours ahead of schedule Leon was twenty minutes behind, and while to the rookies it was godsend luck but to the renowned rescuer of the presidents daughter from a hellish cult who was going to turn up late on an escort mission that were tossed out to recruits like free toothpicks …it couldn't help but fabricate humiliation...not that society ever took his work seriously.

To the far left corner of the ferry, or, the stern of this rusted boat was his ever loyal escorted fellow whom he suddenly considered calling the “talking package” because Billy Coen only opened his mouth to give an answer or put in his sarcastic input when he quote on quote “Felt like it”

Coen was looking out towards the sea, his blue eyes slightly weary from their hike to the harbored docks. He was dressed out of his torn rags and in standard civilian get up, or at least what they could find; that being, a pair of rugged jeans and a skin tight black t-shirt. Leon couldn't help but laugh when he watched Billy walk out of the back alley store in something that looked ridiculously familiar to what he wore on his fated rescue mission of the President Daughter. Instantly he pictured the con in his place and was met with some...interesting scenarios, making him laugh even harder.

Billy didn't notice Leon placing his hands on the middle of his chest and kneeling foreword, he was too busy drifting between a conscious and a sleep. Hell knew he needed the rest but there was so much going on that was out of his realm of knowledge around him that it kept him awake. He reminded himself, the agent was fairly trustworthy but he still had his suspicions.

Leon smirked. The guy was a muscled sack of arrogance but only was it until the unlikely duo had reached civilization that he realized that kind of appeal actually worked on the opposite sex. Leon smirked, he recalled on how Billy ignored nearly every woman glancing hopefully in his direction. He was still a jerk no matter if he was excepted or not, and that just made him even more of a headache to think about.

His last sentiment of Coen was lost as a cold airy wisp swam under his neck and through his hair. Leon sighed, dreamily but silently. At least the breeze was nice he'd give that much credit to the weather. He reached an arm up to touch his hair, still cooked from the suns rays back out in the open trash of a jeep. ...When was he ever going to get that vacation they kept promising him.

Probably spending an eternity in the luxury of my own coffin. He thought.

He heard Billy shift to his side, still sitting atop the beaten iron crate. He could feel him looking in his direction. The weak steel beneath them had been shaking for a good half hour, indicating the near end of the ride. Inadvertence though together they read the horizon as the rampant slish-slosh of water fell in close to their ears. Finally the boat had docked into the harbor.

He didn't waste anymore time. Leon done the unthinkable and nabbed the back of Billy's' collar with a tight fist.

“We're going.” He boldly stated, ignoring the side glance with dark blue eyes suggesting he never ever try that again. Leon only sighed as he let go. “Follow me so we can both get this over with.” He muttered.

The con eyed him for a moment but let it go, shrugging halfheartedly in agreement. Without another word he followed the agent to and through the rear entry. Inside it wasn't nearly as furnished or polished but it was empty and that was what mattered most in the affair. Billy glanced towards Leons shoulder, casually, and tried to read his expression from behind. Once again he was "following a line that wasn't there"

They crossed over into the second room, which was a little more filled than the one they just came from. It was scant but fit, cheap but polished, and by the look in their observant eyes, it was the brazen bar counter running along the side of the scope that said so. Billy couldn't resist a longing look at the rack of fine liquor before stepping out. There was a good amount, most likely all bootlegged which in his case meant all the more tempting to try.

“It costs ten hundred a bottle if you're interested.” Leons said, surprisingly subtle. Billy said nothing, merely grunting. Neither of them stopped for a longer chance of gazing at the savored booze and the con himself suddenly wondered, on the very last step before they were out, that if he nabbed a bottle a few minutes back could he have used it towards his other “escape.”

Silence followed the two men as Leon continued to lead.

He steered them back to the outside and then immediately to the right where a numbly looking ramp seemed to peak out of nowhere at the side of the ship. Billy stopped short for a moment, the agent momentarily oblivious to his movement and continued on without a pause over his warped shoulder.

The dark rims of Billy Coens' eyes narrowed. Always, or not so very fond of heights, he liked to know what lay below him before he stepped his foot in.

The ramp stretched, down and down, so steep that when he stepped on blondie almost lost his own footing when the iron flap of a walkway had wobbled under the adding pressure of his weight. This caused the agent to whip his neck south north and finally acknowledge the distance between them.

Billy gazed back, his eyes reading nothing while Leon's exhibited clear and cut confusion. Yeah, real awkward.

The end of the ramp met at a narrow docking bay, leading to a one way crevice. The split broke into two directions and one stretched farther than the other. For a brief moment, Billy had a strange hunch over the cross way he just boarded. Arriving from a ferry capable of thousands that lead to a board, barely supportive of two people... Odd wasn't the word and neither was suspicious. There was another but it escaped him.

His head still turned stupidly while he walked the other way, Billy didn't notice the shadows overcastting his back. When he turned, the night went to his head and he jerked to a slow hesitant stop. He could hear Leon, talking, saying "just a few steps ahead" and he too, had considerably slowed his pacing.

At some bizarre short point, the path they'd take had molded into the entrance of a cross between a cave and a subway station…not quite the underground sea cavern setting from those old eighties movies. Billy shook his head. Honestly, was he expecting to see that? Of course not but it would do him some good humor because this headquarters was beginning to be just as secretive and bizarre as that fucking chocolate factory .

Of course, Billy kept his comments to himself, wanting to relish the silence even as their suspicious location was nagging on his conscious for an answer. He racked both his hands through his hair and trudged on, the blatant scowl on his face hiding signs of relief for the agents superb sense of direction and awareness.

They wondered far, the walkway feeling less and less like dirt all around. Billy shook his head from the on coming headache; as per usual thoughts were spurring around like mice let loose. Were they really in the Caribbean like Leon said or was their location even on the traditional map for that matter? His eyes dilated and he could see pipes breaking out and through the walls as they began to enter into the core of the "cave". There was no steam busting from holes like his idle mind half expected but the humidity was dropping dead and it was enough to make them both feel the heat again.

Billy kept his resolve high as a flashback invaded his mind. Ragathon...he may have never seen the place but that was about all he ever heard at the institute. Some said that those escorted on death row were blindfolded the entire walk, from the convo to "the chair", you never knew who or what was out there, just the sound of your own two feet and the the ones behind you. When you reached the end, they said you could feel the fires of hell reaching for your eyes from behind the white sheet. Begrudgingly he recalled the memories of the words and the people behind them...that was, if he could even call them people. With the exception of his situation, the old saying about jail barely fit the description anymore. He had to fight nearly every day to keep himself alive. No friends, no partnerships, only competition.

A violent shudder ran up his neck and it was as though Leon sensed it. Aware, the agent turned on his heel and faced the con with a slightly calming expression, one that was meant to be shared.

"I know you've been deprived but we're almost there. "Billy nodded and took a deep breath, unfortunately the dry air caught up in his throat and he coughed at the feeling of his lungs being pressed tight. He staggered while walking, his shoulders reflexing with each scattered hurl of air from his mouth, he shielded his face with one arm until he could feel nothing in his throat.

He lowered his arm and at the sight of a gated entrance his blue eyes became ice again as he steered toward the center. He watched Leon glance his way as he searched his jacket pocket, and completely forgot how lucky he was not to have tripped over anything while he walked with his eyes partially closed.

"Just so you know, this isn't a dream." Billy somehow knew Leon had thought the same thing at one point. His eyes had gone soft while he reached into the back of his shirt and pulled a tag card from around his neck. "But I know I'm just wasting my breath since you've practically lived in a dream world...or a nightmare."

He was met with a surprisingly reluctant reply. "Nightmare sounds more accurate.

Leon nodded as he swiped the card. "It sure does."

There was a solid clank of metal and a pair of steel doors pushed apart from the middle, sliding at a slow speed that Leon himself grew impatient as he folded his arms in a slow and petulant manner.

--And slowly unfolded them at the sight that greeted them.

They were all garbed in grey and black attire, suited up from head to toe as if they were ready to take on the world. A fleet of soldiers, a private militia of men.

Through the darkness their weapons pointed past him.

"Billy Coen,” A clear cut voice announced, so deep and so thorough that Leon did a double take before drawing for his back pocket knife.

“David... What are you doing?” He asked in curiously looming tone.

“My job.” He retorted.

"That's not--"

“Coen.” David announced gruffly while drawing his own weapon out at him. Billy, already prepared for hell the moment the doors gave way, had merely angled his head to the tallest shadow. His eyes glimmered a cold blue as he stared him down, daring him to speak again.

“You are under arrest for the assault and murder of Rebecca Chambers. Anything you say or do will be held in a court of law. "

And he wished he hadn't.

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END

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Um, I do feel this chapter got a little confusing at some points, but all I can say for now is that the next chapter will make everything clear. ...I think I just stated the ridiculously obvious. DX

Just to state some points however: The Outbreak cast is here to stay. (woot!) The setting takes place one year after RE4 (Seven years after Racoon. I guess before Degeneration..?) The BSAA is going to be used. (Since it's an organization spread in branches.) The first section is a flashback as the "One year ago" line suggests. (I don't like using italics...very annoying to read, sorry.) The plot of the story will be Billy Coen centric but the RE cast will not be forgotten. And...there's going to be romance? Well, yeah I think I stated that before...