Chapter Text
After the past few months worth of “leadership” (not much more than glorified desk duty and bureaucracy, as she quickly discovered), Jill feels better to be out in the field again. She is leading one team amongst many to search the devastated port town for survivors. What a way to spend Christmas Day...
It has been three days since the port town was destroyed and infected by the ELA’s unknown t-virus variant. During the fiasco, Charlie team and nearly all of Alpha team went missing. She wanted to send back up immediately, but the higher ups decided to break the ELA’s siege first, to avoid having more people get trapped or lost to bombardments. Now that the ELA’s positions have been overrun, multiple teams, including hers, are converging on the town. She just hopes it’s not too late for the survivors left behind the first time. Before they went missing, Charlie team was able to evacuate a number of civilians by boat. The problem is, nearly all of the rescued civilians have tested positive for the virus. They have been treated with a modified version of Daylight. The B.S.A.A.’s research department worked nonstop for the past few days to develop this treatment, as soon as they discovered the virus’s similarity to the t-virus. Now the only thing left to do is wait to see whether the treatment will work.
What happened at the school almost doesn’t bear thinking about. The final tally of the number of children found alive is barely past twenty. Wright is alive, but with several injuries and a rattling cough that sounds like the beginnings of pneumonia. The students’ families and the media are all clamoring for information on what happened at the school, but nobody who potentially knows the full story is around to provide an answer. The B.S.A.A. doesn’t have much information, period. Last she heard, the B.S.A.A. had to burn the bodies at the school for the purpose of biohazard containment. The whole debacle is neither pretty nor easy. The frantic calls from worried parents are only adding to the stress of it all.
Of the four Alpha team members who made it to the school, only Merah was found by Delta team yesterday. According to the limited information she provided before being taken away for medical treatment, Wesker had absconded with Chris last night, a few hours prior to Delta team’s arrival. Merah’s earpiece is damaged beyond repair, so there’s no chance of analyzing the audio recordings from the device for additional data. Maybe it stems from her own resentment that Merah was rescued and not Chris, but for some reason, Merah is getting on her nerves. The researcher-turned-field agent is on Affini’s radar for reasons he hasn’t decided to share, though he seems to have no suspicions about her motives.
Stepping foot into the port town, she is treated to the sight of dead bodies, dismembered body parts, and puddles of putrefying zombie goo scattered everywhere. The biohazard appears especially severe, forcing them to put on gas masks as a precaution before they begin scourging the place for hints of human life. They encounter a few herds of ambling monsters, which they summarily dispatch.
“ Bravo team checking in, ” Parker says over the radio. “ We’re clearing out the marketplace. We see some signs of recent human activity nearby… Could be survivors.”
“You sure?”
“ We’re about to find out. ”
She smiles despite herself. Parker isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s good and reliable for the everyday stuff. Though it would be nice if Josh were here instead…
One of her men gestures towards the area they are about to enter. It is where most of Charlie and Alpha team went missing. Most of the bullet-ridden buildings are collapsed, like the area was hit by a wrecking ball. Corpses, some of which are dressed in the standard B.S.A.A. garb, litter the area. This doesn’t look good. Hopefully some people from Alpha and Charlie team survived this carnage.
They move in, checking the rubble with practiced ease. After the area is cleared, they bring in sniffer dogs to make sure no survivors have been missed. They don’t find anyone alive.
She is beginning to feel a terrible sinking sensation in her gut, until the radio cracks to life again.
“ We found six survivors, ” Parker says, sounding exceptionally laid back in spite of the amazing news. There are few excited calls of “OPA!” in the background. “ Four civilians and two of our people, Delacruz and Beck. No obvious signs of infection. We’ll get them an evac. ”
“Copy that.”
She relaxes a little bit. They’ve found some survivors. The mission isn’t a complete loss, even if one of the survivors turned out to be Beck.
If only Chris were among them… She would have rested far easier.
=
Jake wakes up in a plain but large bed. The back of his head has a painful lump on it, courtesy of that sonuvabitch who appeared out of nowhere and started attacking. That guy is not someone he wants to fuck with again.
The room isn’t exactly what he expected to wake up in, with the nice dresser, massive mirror, and a few shelves of books lining one of the walls. He briefly considers some of the worst-case scenarios, then remembers.
“SHIT!” He jumps to his feet to look for--
“Jake!”
The second he hears the muffled sound of Sherry’s voice from the other side of the wall, he makes a mad dash to the door. It’s unlocked?!
“Jake, is that you?”
“Are you okay?”
He pauses before running outside, just to make sure he’s not naked or something. He’s wearing his shirt and pants, but his shoes, weapons, and jacket are gone. Shaking his head in annoyance, he leaves the cell (he refuses to call it a bedroom) and enters what appears to be a common room. Sherry is already there. She runs into his arms and he can’t help but gather her into an embrace. When his face and eyes begin to heat up, he lets go and turns away before the waterworks can start.
They’ve obviously been kidnapped, but the accommodations are much better than expected. The spacious common room contains a large flat-screen TV and a stash of movies, DVDs and some laser disks. A grand piano occupies one corner. Nostalgia tugs at his chest when he sees the pile of music scores. Thumbing through the stack, he recognizes quite a few pieces.
There is a door that probably leads out of their prison, but it’s locked.
He turns on the TV to see if it’ll tell them anything. Surprisingly, it is able to get a lot of channels. He channel surfs into the midst of a news program. A news anchor is talking animatedly while the words “BREAKING NEWS” flash on the bottom of the screen.
“The biohazard incident at St. Jovan Academy in Edonia remains shrouded in mystery. The school was devastated by a viral outbreak on December 24th, two days after the Edonian Liberation Army destroyed the Black Sea port town. Despite their proximity in time and location, the B.S.A.A. has confirmed that these two attacks are separate, and possibly unrelated, bioterror incidents. The ELA insurgency surrendered yesterday, after its attempted coup at the Edonian capital was stopped by UN and B.S.A.A. forces. ELA leadership has repeatedly denied involvement in the biohazard outbreak at St. Jovan Academy. The European Union has pledged to support rebuilding efforts in the aftermath of the civil war. The UN has condemned the attacks as crimes against humanity, calling for the trial of ELA leaders--”
He turns it off, not wanting another reminder of how much things have gone to hell. Sherry is also silent. If the news is to be believed, only one day has passed since they were fighting for their lives at the school, and today is Christmas. This has got to be one of his most unforgettable Christmas presents ever, to wake up kidnapped by a psycho with unknown motivations.
They wordlessly continue to investigate their prison. Another door leads to an old-fashioned kitchen with dark granite countertops and mahogany cabinets. There is a drawer secured by what looks to be an electronic lock on it with weird symbols instead of numbers. Annoyed, he kicks at it and hears the shifting of something metallic, probably knives. It’s beyond him why anyone would bother to put knives here, only to lock them up in a contraption that looks like a puzzle from a computer game. Maybe he’ll be able to get past the lock and sneak one out somehow. The bastard who knocked them out and brought them here is fast and deadly enough without a weapon. A knife probably won’t be of much use, but he can’t just sit around and do nothing.
They find a full pantry and a few dusty cookbooks. The fridge is well-stocked with meat and produce, as well as a few packaged foods labeled in Russian. Maybe they are somewhere around Russia, or their captor wants them to think so. If they do find a way out, they’ll be at an advantage because they both know Russian.
They continue to explore the area, finding doors that open into various other rooms, but ultimately no exit that leads outside. It seems like they have been locked into a wing of whatever building they are in. Judging from the view out of the windows, this building extends from the sheer cliffs of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. All he can see are snow-capped mountain ranges. Some of the windows can be opened, but they lead to an indeterminable drop into the chasm below.
The last room they check holds a dining room set and multiple end tables. There’s even a samovar. It reminds him of the time before Mom got sick, when they would sit around the kitchen table on a winter evening and make tea with her old brass samovar. The thing was at least half a century old, but he always polished it until it shined like new. The one here is electric and has obviously never been used, not like the one Mom had.
“Wonder how much money went into this place,” he grouses as they return to the piano room.
He almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the blond man who knocked them out. When did he get in here? After a closer look, he realizes this guy is that weirdo from the port town who followed him, Marko, and Lazar before they ditched him in the back alleys. He moves protectively in front of Sherry. She can fend for herself, sure, but he’s not about to let this guy get near her again.
The weirdo moves over to the piano, looking at them almost proudly. “I hope you enjoyed exploring. I would have given you a tour if you had waited a few minutes more, but it’s not surprising that you’re both curious of your surroundings.”
The guy’s accent is a strange mishmash of British and American. A British expat who spent too long in the States? He is glad his own accent isn’t that ridiculous. Still, whoever this asshole is, maybe he’s responsible for what happened at the school, for everyone dying...Marko and Lazar… Why else would he be at the school when all hell broke loose, if not to watch his own handiwork? Looks like this guy has resources too. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he is the one who supplied Bindi with the virus. Even if Bindi is a genius, she can’t manufacture a virus when she’s stuck at a boarding school.
“What did you do to Dr. Wright?” Sherry demands angrily before he can warn her to keep quiet. The creepy guy is completely at ease, as if expecting this question.
“The one I got the radio from? He should be fine. He was attempting to lead some children to safety, and I locked them in a secure room. Last I’ve heard, he was found alive and safe with them.”
“Like we’re gonna trust that,” Jake says in his most obnoxious tone, trying to draw the weirdo’s attention away from Sherry.
“You can get the news, if you’d like to see for yourselves.” The man motions to the TV, then goes to the piano and presses on a few random keys. Jake grimaces - the thing is out of tune.
“I’m hoping to keep you both entertained for a bit, but suffice to say, I want you both to be comfortable. Sherry, why don’t you fill Jake in on who I am?”
The weirdo is disturbingly interested in them. Is he some kind of pervert? He better not try anything. If this guy touches a hair on Sherry’s head… Hold on. How does Sherry even know this bastard? Why is it important for him to know who this bastard is? And... “How do you know my name?”
He isn’t carrying any identifying information. At the port town, he kept a low profile, so there’s no way this guy could have found anything from snooping around back then.
“Magda was a fine woman. News of her death was most unwelcome.” The man pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “I only recently found out that she had a son.”
Oh fuck no .
“The hell did you say?”
The man looks pleased by how quickly he is catching on. This psycho can’t possibly be the man that Magda Muller loved, the father that she swore he’d meet one day. What did he do to pull the wool over her eyes?
The final message Mom left him asked him to not hate his father, and to forgive her for leaving. There’s nothing to forgive. It’s his own fault for not getting back home in time to help her. But this man who waltzed into an infected school and kidnapped them for whatever sick reason?
Father or not, he is never going to forgive this man for leaving Mom to die. He doesn’t feel any uncontrollable urges to kill this guy yet, but he suspects he’ll get there in no time, especially if Sherry is harmed in any way.
The weirdo plays a few more clashing notes on the piano. He wants to strangle this goddamn bastard - first for toying with him, then for getting such a sorry fucking piano that is so out of tune! If Mom were here, she’d probably hate him too for being completely tone deaf.
Sherry shifts behind him, then says, “Mr. Wesker, why are we here? Where are the others?”
“You’re here to be safe. After what nearly happened with Simmons, not to mention the backstabbers hiding in the B.S.A.A., I don’t want you to be under their influence any longer. Your father barely forgave me for leaving Umbrella. He’d never forgive me for leaving you again. I was far too self-absorbed back then, to not have found you earlier.”
Something resembling melancholy flickers acrosses Wesker’s face.
Jake can all but taste Sherry’s discomfort, and makes a mental note to never bring up her family again. Wesker remains oblivious, as dense as he is tone deaf.
“As for the others, you needn’t worry about them. They are all being taken care of.”
“I want to see Chris,” she demands.
Wesker tilts his head in curiosity, but with his eyes obscured by the sunglasses, his expressionless face gives nothing else away. The B.S.A.A. agents are probably dead by now...
“I can bring him once he’s presentable, if it will ease your worries. Or you can see the other two. The younger one is quite worried about you.”
He is honestly surprised that Wesker kept the B.S.A.A. agents alive, though for what end? As much as he wants to see Mr. B.S.A.A. from before, he’s hesitant about pushing the issue too hard when he has no clue about Wesker’s motives.
Their cage is gilded. For whatever reason, his supposed father wants him and Sherry comfortable. He can only hope that the psycho’s “hospitality” extends to the others and that they’re really okay.