Year 2009

Claire Redfield.

Age: 30

Occupation: Member of Terra-Save

Well, that can be argued with as at the moment she was now on a plane trip to somewhere on the west coast for the most unlikely job she could think of at the moment; babysitting. It wasn't that she was bad at it, but merely….the terms of the situations were a bit too much. Her previous babysitting adventures –to put it best- had her in the most interesting of predicaments.

The first had her protecting a Sherry Birkin, daughter of Umbrella researchers Annete and William Birkin; the latter became transformed by a much horrendous virus while the other was killed by the same man who was stricken with it. Not the greatest of stories, but considering it was part of her first time encountering the T-Virus as well as the G-Virus, it was commendable.

'I wonder where Sherry is right now…'

The second wasn't as bad…just taking care of Rani Chalwa for a moment's time or more possibly, and next thing you know; yup virus again, coming in hot by airplane. It could've been a similar repeat of last time, as again the G-Virus decided to show its ugly head again-

Claire thanked the flight attendant for a refill on her drink, continuing to look out with the window on her previous thoughts. Now, where was she? Oh right, the incident at the Havardville Airport. Well, not as much occurred as previous, but all the same, both girls made it and were alright…it's been long since Umbrella has been destroyed, and since she's last heard from her brother –who once again didn't tell her where he was headed to- all has been well.

No news of virus, bioterrorism at an all time low…yet whether it was nostalgia or her lingering fighting spirit, she had the feeling at the pit of her stomach that somehow there was more to this repose than how it appeared…then again, since the events that played out of how the virus came to the airport, could've been a queasy feeling from the idea the virus could be spread by plane.

"Attention passengers. We will be landing shortly, so please remain in your seats and fasten your seatbelts for landing."

Claire looked out the window to her destination; a much desert landscape, and at this time of year, it seemed to retain the same look, no doubt possibly brisk enough to at least wear a light jacket. Sometimes the terrain switched from various small houses and apartments to big stretches of land that'd make it seem like a nowhere.

'Come to think of it...this plane barely has any passengers on it.' Claire looked behind her to find only one or two really in sight, and that was still a small size of a crowd for a small plane.

"Well, this seems homey… I guess."

She looked to her ticket, still curious over such a small parchment.

Twas a few weeks ago at the end of a recap meeting for Terrasave when –just as Clarie was about to leave- a lanky fidgety man lightly tapped at her shoulder, as she'd obviously turn to an act of attention. A well experienced Terrasave member, he had an occasional case of the jitters, a messy head of dirt colors hair and glasses that just wouldn't want to stay on his face. It was less likely they would since it seemed he had caught onto some allergies, sniffling and trying to catch his breath with one sneeze right after another.

"Is something wrong John?"

The man known as John –John K. Landers- took a moment to shake off the stuttering and sniffling, wiping his nose on a hankerchief.

"W-would you happen to be unoccupied this weekend or the week after Ms. Redfield?"

At first Claire was about to suddenly say 'no' thinking of something else on her mind, however John wasn't quite done yet.

"It's of much importance and the job cannot be simply done without the right person."

"Oh." 'Phew…' "What is it?"

"A friend of mine…he's away on a business trip and has no one to take care of his dau-...dau...AAAAAHHHH-" Claire flinched back as a grand sneeze send the poor man into a seat, papers spilled onto the floor.

Claire went to pick up the papers as Jack regained his composure, as well as another handkerchief. "Gesundheit."

"My apologies Ms. Redfield..." He took a breath, praying he could get though the conversation without dying of the dust and pollen invasion; "As I was saying, a friend of mine's daughter needs babysitting; however, there are also suspicions about the area he lives in. Rumors of a retired bioterrorism employee are also in that area, as we were tipped off by a few of the locals."

Claire wanted to roll her eyes at the fact she just entitled to her maternal part-time job, but considering it seemed part of her main job as well, she kept a straight face.

"Do we have any evidence? You know how some rumors are misleading."

"I don't think I would joke about a subject like this Ms. Redfield. In fact…" The man pat around himself before reaching into his coat as handing over a yellow envelope, gently dusting off the lint before putting it out forward; "The flight is already paid for, as well as accommodations being settled."

"…well, alright."

"You have my tha...tha..." It took a short moment for recovery, but there was no impact fortunately. "...thanks Ms. Redfield."

"…looks like my job isn't quite done yet…"

The landing and the luggage pick-up went by like a blur, Claire already seeing a well-dressed person holding up a sign for her, immediately coming over.

"Claire Redfield?"

"that's me. And you are?"

"No one of much importance ma'am. Just the chauffeur ma'am." A tip of the hat, and Claire was led to a slick-black limo, spotless by many means as the driver packed away her luggage.

'Well, looks like there's good money being spent on for this kind of job…' Claire thought as she entered the limo, the driver quick to begin heading to the next destination.

"So, where exactly are we headed?"

"1903 Dusk Avenue ma'am. I've heard you've come far."

"Not really…"

That was about all the small talk there was. The area she saw wasn't heavily populated…not much of a metropolitan place but it seemed much more peaceful like that…no people bustling about with traffic, no smells of putrid gasoline and garbage cans filling the streets. Compared to her previous locations, this was quite a change.

What come could come with such an opportunity though?

Nothing special at the moment seemed to be going on with the fabled Chris Redfield, nothing at. Just a-traveling on a nice boat ride along the bayou with his current partner Sheva Alomar and Josh Stone…hey, what's better than that? Coming across another boat filled to the brim with more victims of Las Plagas, attempting to shoot them down

"Oh shit!"

Yup, nothing out of the ordinary with Chris Redfield that his sister should be informed about.

No sooner had Chris and Sheva climbed onto the ship, only to be met with a Ricardo Irving. A low life B.O.W. smuggler, but a much important one as to give a lead to many more answers.

"Won't you two just die already? You're making me look bad." Irving snarled with annoyance, a crazy look in his eyes; "Who do you think got this entire operation off the ground? Research like this doesn't fund itself, you know! Yet everyone looks down on me..." –he turns to a vial clutched tightly in his left, bony hand- "but not anymore!"

"Don't do it!" Immediately to Sheva's plead do the partners draw their guns up, but already it is too late as the madman injects himself at his neck, and more instantly he begins writhing in pain, his back bubbling about in –no doubt- a viral transformation, various tentacles ripping form his back.

"I'm far beyond anything you could hope to become!"

A few rounds of bullets and Irving dives into the water…but instead what comes out form behind the BSAA members is a grand set of tentacles large enough to capsize the boat, accompanied by a pod-like shape containing the same insane man. All Chris had to say about it was "Shit."

"I just had an extreme makeover!"

Yup, nothing too out of the ordinary for a day in Chris Redfield's life as of now…

Jack stumbled and panted as he recovered from yet another sneeze as he headed to his car for his lunch break, the dandelions about like dancing dust bunnies earning their wings and forcing the allergen-weak man into his car.

"Darn spring..." He muttered as he took out his phone, pressing at numbers before placing it to his ear, the ringing repeating once...twice...before it was picked up. "Mr. Lumin, it's Jack. I did as you asked of me, but I still don't understand why you couldn't have any of your other family take care of her. you're such good people."

"It's all in good intention, don't worry. Who better to trust her than to Redfield?" A calm, collected voice responded on the other line as Jack placed on his seatbelt and started the car, the phone leaning on his shoulder.

"I understand your reasoning sir, but even she should have more pressing matters with TerraSave, what if she turned the offer down?"

"I have full faith that she would not. Now why don't you head down to the usual joint? Lunch is on me."

"I-If I can make it there sir. These allergies will be the death of me."

Jack made it past the gate and its guard, going onto the traffic ridden road.

"Oh nonsense."

The voice on the phone sounded a bit louder than usual.

"Um sir, I think I pressed something on my phone, your voice suddenly spiked up."

"Did it now? You did say you were in need of a new phone."

Jack pulled the phone from his ear, looking to it with confusion. He couldn't put his finger on it, being so quick to go out for his lunch break but his blood ran cold with the sight of the lightless buttons and black screen.

His phone was dead.

"Come on now, we don't have all day."

He felt a threatening prick right behind his throat, within the small gap beneath the headrest of the seat, his blood running cold.

"As we agreed to, the usual spot no? And don't be trying any funny things now. Those allergies could have some nasty side effects on a peaceful drive such as this. And let's take all the time we can while we are at it. My family has no need to worry of me for the time being." The source of the voice maintained with their stoic, no nonsense voice, Jack gripping the steering wheel with sweaty palms as he dare try and peek at the reflection of his rear-view mirror to see if his ears were deceiving him.

And not a shout was heard among the blaring horns of traffic at the recent accident that occurred in the small sandwich and soup shack at the intersection of the 4-lanes streets, cars slammed up one against another, on their sides and upside-down, none having coming out whole, and same goes for their drivers and passengers.