Classified Information

Chapter III
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She stood over the counter, not paying attention to the water rising in the sink. Every few moments her eyes would dart to the phone on the counter beside her. No matter how much she looked at it, it wouldn’t ring. She stared back at the water. The sink was almost full. It wasn’t really necessary to fill it up; there were only a few dishes, but it was a distraction, yet another mindless task that would avert her attention from her own feelings of boredom, irritation, and worry.

“One must wonder, then, what else he may keep from you…?”

Jill shook the thought away. The voice was real enough to make her skin tighten. It was as if Albert Wesker was standing just behind her, speaking into her ear despite his death. It was the way it had been since she’d come back to consciousness in Africa. It was near the only voice she had heard when he had held her captive. Now, even after watching him die, he spoke in her thoughts, his influence ingrained in her. Trauma, she supposed. She wondered if she’d ever be rid of it.

“It’s only natural, Jill,” Wesker spoke again “You’ve spent so long apart. You can’t possibly expect the two of you to ever be as close as you once were, can you?”

She hated it. All her doubts, all her fears and insecurities, projected in the voice of her late mortal enemy. Of all the ways for PTSD to affect her. She calmed herself, taking a deep breath and clearing her mind, until she could hear him no more. He wasn’t really there, after all.

Still, her concern had not dissipated. Chris had lied to her. She knew it. Could feel it. His behavior had been a good indication. So had the missing guns from the closet. It was alarming, to say the least.

She began washing, her thoughts still wandering. What could he be doing? It was obviously a dangerous mission. He’d taken the shotgun and more shells than she could count.

She couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t tell her where he was going. It wasn’t like him. She wondered if he had told anybody? She wondered if that would make her feel better or worse.

Regardless, the thought gave her an idea. She finished washing the last dish, draining the sink and drying off her hands before picking up her phone, dialing in one of the many numbers she knew by heart.

It might not lead her to Chris’s whereabouts, but it was better than sitting around the apartment, alone with her treacherous thoughts. Some good company would at least help to put her mind at rest.

…

The subterranean catacombs of Raccoon City were destroyed. The ladder led them into the sewers, but it hadn’t lasted long. Rubble and debris all over the place forged a new, makeshift path, one they were forced to climb over, under, and through. They eventually came to a relatively unmarred subway tunnel. At least, it was recognizable; there was debris all over the place, along with long dead corpses of Raccoon City. Some may have been alive at the time of the bombing, most had certainly been dead already; and now they were all rotting, buried under Umbrella’s cover up, along with the rest of the city, and all it’s secrets.

“So.”

Leon looked at Chris, drawing his attention from the path. It was pitch black underground, their field lights dimly illuminating the tunnel they walked in, stepping carefully, hesitantly, over the bodies. Chris continued.

“I know you and Claire have history, but I still have a job to do. What are you doing here?”

Leon hesitated. He was in a weird spot. He had his own job to do, and he wasn’t too keen on the consequences of federal treason. On the other hand, it would do him no good to lie, as deep in as he was, and he knew that his cause wasn’t the just one.

“I’m here for the same thing you are…mostly,” he said. “I’m looking for survivors. Unlike you, though, I’m not supposed to leave empty handed…”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Chris responded, surprising Leon with his calmness. They had stopped walking, and he was staring at Leon expectantly, waiting for some kind of reply, his grayish eyes holding Leon’s light blue ones. It caught Leon off guard.

“Look,” he started, snapping out of it. “You don’t have to worry about me. I have my orders, but I’ve seen what happens in this place. I’m not gonna stop you, and I don’t plan on bringing any souvenirs home with me.”

“Good,” Chris smiled, turning and continuing down the tunnel. Leon followed suit, wanting to keep the conversation going, but not quite sure how. The two weren’t unknown to each other, but this was the first time they had ever met face to face, and Leon didn’t want his good friend’s older brother to be left with impressions of some sleazy government backstabber. He chastised himself as he thought this. Self doubt wasn’t like him.

They walked a little longer, before they both stopped, there footsteps no longer the only sound echoing in the tunnel. It was a breathy sound, quiet, nondescript, but immediately recognized by both Leon and Chris: A moan, dry, drawn out, and full of agony.

The both of them wheeled around, weapons drawn, not catching each other’s glances, both knowing what they’d see; they were both scared shitless.

Their lights shakily illuminated the tunnel, waiting for movement. Then they spotted it. One of the corpses, lying on the floor, was moving, attempting to rise in that jerking, poorly balanced way so characteristic of the undead.

The first shot squeezed off as it got to it’s feet: Chris’s. The zombie, a woman, judging by it’s flower print sundress, jerked and almost fell, but it caught balance, turning to face them with empty eye sockets, shambling forward.

It seemed impossible that the thing was walking, even besides the fact that it was a zombie. It had been over a decade since the Raccoon City outbreak, and all the bodies should’ve been fully devoid of muscle by now. Yet the corpse still looked fleshy, unnaturally so. Reddish black tendons showed under it’s leathery skin, and there was a strange pinkish lump growing out of it’s neck like a tumor.

“It’s the Gene Virus…” Chris heard Leon say. “Shoot it’s eye! The eye!” He shot at the zombie, which was clumsily trying to weave it’s way around the other corpses on the ground. Chris thought he could hear more groans, and hoped it was only in his head.

He looked back at the approaching zombie, examining it. What eye was Leon talking about? Then his eyes caught the pink lump on the zombie’s shoulder; it swiveled around wildly, it’s pupil contracting when it fell on him, seeming to meet his gaze. It was a giant eyeball, growing out of the zombie’s shoulder.

As he stared at it, it exploded in a reddish pop, Leon having hit his mark. The zombie slumped to the ground, only a few feet from them now.

“W-what the hell just happened?!” Chris asked shakily, turning to Leon. “What kind of zombie was that?”

Before he could answer, Leon’s voice was drowned out by more groans from the bodies on the floor around them, writhing despite their decomposed forms.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Leon said. “Right now I think we need to leave…”

…

They escaped further down the tunnel. The zombies were slow, and easily shaken. It seemed best to run, rather than stay and try to kill all of them.

They came to a station in the subway line, where the floor was devoid of bodies. The ceiling was cracked and broken, and a few shy rays of sunlight made their was down to illuminate the place a little. Chris and Leon sat on the concrete platform just above the tracks, catching their breath.

“What was that, back there?” Chris finally asked, still panting.

“I’m not sure…” Leon replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. “It almost looked like something I’ve seen before, but…”

He trailed off, getting to his feet a moment later. Chris turned to watch him.

“Where are you going?” He asked. Leon pointed to an old metal door hanging off it’s hinges: The bathroom.

“Cover me,” he said jokingly. Chris couldn’t help but smile. He remembered Claire saying this guy was full of bad jokes.

Leon pulled the door open, cringing at the screech of the rusted hinges. It was dark inside; pitch black. It would’ve been easier to take a leak out there, where the light was, but he need to be alone to collect his thoughts, at least for a moment. He stepped inside.

The field light dimly illuminated the inside of the bathroom. Their was a single stall in the dank, decrepit room. He entered the room with hesitance and caution, his finger on the trigger of his gun. He’d been in too many situations where some nature defying creature had jumped out of the shadows for him to ever feel comfortable in a place like this.

He checked every nook and cranny of the room before approaching the stall. He kicked it open, his eyes nervously falling over every inch of the place; no zombies, only a grimy, slimy toilet and more fallen debris from the ceiling. He sighed in relief, before unzipping himself and doing his business. His mind whirled as he relieved his bladder.

He didn’t know which was a bigger problem: Chris, or the zombies. If there was a outbreak, as the walking dead seemed to imply, well… it couldn’t be good. Hunnigan had said that both the T and G-Virus hadn’t been detected, despite that zombie showing symptoms of both. That meant that something new was happening under the burned streets of Raccoon City.

Whatever it was, he didn’t think it was a good idea to take a sample of it back with him, especially considering the arrival of his new companion. He hadn’t liked the idea to start with, and Chris had been the push he’d needed to decide to do the right thing. But still, he had orders to follow. This was a top priority for the government, and Leon didn’t like the idea of living as a fugitive.

Well, he thought as he zipped himself up, getting out alive was his top priority as of now. He made to turn and exit the tall when he felt the familiar cold press of a gun barrel at his lower back. He jumped at the touch, think a zombie at first, relaxing when he realized what it was. He had time to find humor in the fact that the threat of being shot meant nothing to him, but he would probably never get over his fear of the undead.

He felt his nerves dissipate further when he noticed the smell. Amongst the stale funk of the ruined bathroom was another scent, out of place, yet unmistakably familiar. Perfume, and a particular fragrance, at that. He smiled.

“Long time, no see, Ada…” he said. He felt her lean close to him, the gun still at his back, her breath tickling his ear as she spoke in hushed tones.

“Nice to see you again, Leon,” she said. He turned his head to get a side glance at her. She smirked at him coyly, as beautiful and mysterious as ever, her dark hair partially concealing her features.

“What are you doing here?” He asked her.

“The usual,” she said, disinterestedly, teasingly. “Following you around, until you collect exactly what I need for me to take from you while your guard’s down.”

“Don’t you ever stop in just to say hi?” He said coquettishly. She ignored it.

“Don’t think you can charm your way out of this one, Leon,” she said. “I have orders for your assassination.”

Rather than being intimidated, Leon chuckled softly.

“Didn’t you have orders for my assassination last time? And the time before that?” He felt the gun press harder into his back.

“Press your luck,” she said, her lips grazing his ear teasingly, “and this may be the last time.”

Leon laughed again.

“Ada,” he started, “we’ve said this all before. I can’t count how many times you’ve had a gun to my back. But in the end-” expertly, he wheeled around, twisting her arm until she dropped the gun and reversing her completely, so her back was against his front. She had time to cry out softly in surprise before she was locked in his grip.

“You never shoot.”

He held her close, preventing to escape. Rather than looking daunted, Ada smiled, leaning her head back to his chest, looking up at him.

“You’ve been practicing, I see,” she said seductively. “Perhaps I should reward you.”

She leaned up further and kissed him, luring him down to her level with her lips. Leon’s eyes went wide with surprise for a moment. It wasn’t the first time this had happened in their strange relationship, but it was few and far between. He returned her kiss eagerly, spinning her around so that her front was to his. Their tongues met in a passionate tangle, both of them wanting more of each other than they could take at one time.

She pulled away, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him. He jumped when he felt her hand rubbing the crotch of his jeans.

“We don’t have time for romance , Leon,” she said irresistibly. “This has to be quick.”

Without another word, she kneeled down in front of him, her red dress pooling around her as she unfastened his pants.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. Leon did as he was told, feeling his reward immediately as her hand clasped around his member. She stroked slowly along the length of it for a few moments before he felt her lips wrap around the tip. Her tongue massaged him accentually as she worked her way down his shaft.

Leon held back a gasp, enraptured in the pleasure of this surreal experience. It was so unlike Ada to be this submissive, to pleasure him while getting nothing in return. But he wasn’t about to complain. It felt great. Already he felt himself tensing, so much so that he had to concentrate not to come.

Ada continued her ministrations, keeping a perfectly steady pace. When she felt him draw tense once more, she stopped, pulling her mouth off of him with a loud wet noise.

“Are you about to come?” She asked. Leon’s reply was breathy and muttering.

“Ye…yeah…”

“Good,” Ada said. She stood up quickly, grabbing Leon’s shoulder in the process and throwing him against the wall of the bathroom stall. Her hand was on his head, pressing his face into the cold, grungy metal of the stall. He heard the click of her gun, alarmingly close to his ear. She spoke with a laugh in her voice.

“You really are to easy, Leon.”

Leon jumped as he heard the gunshot echo through the entire area. He opened his eyes a moment later, confused to find that he wasn’t dead. His confusion was answered when he heard a voice shout from outside the bathroom.

“Leon! Get out here!”

Chris.

“Hhmmm…” he heard Ada say. “Looks like you’re off the hook this time, Leon. Pull your pants up and go help your partner.”

He felt her hand let go of him, and a second later, she was gone, as if she had never been there at all.

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Finally updating! "Ladybee," "Sora269," and "fluffiebunny," thanks for the reviews : ) I hope you continue to enjoy it, as well as anyone else who's following this fic. Next chapter should be up before too long. In the meantime, let me know what you think. Read, Rate, Review, and Enjoy!