Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with the Resident Evil brand in any way, shape or form, nor do I have any fiscal stake in writing this story. It is all for my creative enjoyment. The only things I own are my original story ideas and my own characters.

Author's Note: A bit longer than I had hoped in terms of uploading time, but oh well. Sorry about that. Anyways, here's chapter five. It was a bit challenging to write because it was slower, plus there are a few characters in this chapter that I hope came out saying/acting like themselves. Also, it was a bit tricky for me because there are four different 'storylines' if you want to call them that, in this chapter, and I like more one/two. Again, it's whatever though. I just hope what I'm doing is going to translate well.

A few quick little notes. I try to be as grammatically correct as I can with the exception of people's speech. I think that in most cases people have their own unique little quirks and ways they like to express things, so I try to capture that. For example, how I imagine Fredrick speaking. To me he's one of those guys who talks a lot, kind of like Jake, and he tends to word things in ways most people wouldn't. Anyway, I hope that makes sense. A few quick reassurances. While I'm on the subject of Fredrick, he isn't in this chapter, but I promise he will be coming back in the next one. So no worries. For those of you who didn't feel Sherry was independent/strong enough, I promise that it was intensional. Don't get upset though, because I love a strong female character so she isn't going to be lame. She will be kicking ass soon enough! Lastly, for now, while this is a Sherry/Jake based story, there will be lots of familiar faces floating in and out of chapters and old friends will be involved.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy what I've come up with. I'll try to update within the next week or so, but I've been neglecting other 'in progress' stories of mine and will be trying to update one than the other, so it may be a bit longer than that. As always, thanks for taking the time to read. I am humbled by you. If you read it and like it, feel free to drop me a message/review. I love to hear from people. Same goes as last time. If anyone has an idea/theory/suggestion or anything, please share those too. I love hearing from you in whatever way you want. :) Thanks for the continued support. You guys are great.

Jake paced the small holding cell, his combat boots padding in a methodical rhythm that reverberated off the stone walls. Every few minutes he would look at the door momentarily before resuming his circuit of the room.

"Who called the boys in green?" Fredrick asked as he, Cliff and Jake stood off to the side of the battered street watching B.S.A.A. agents as they finished with the BOW they had just killed.

Cliff's eyes continuously scanned their surroundings, his nerves spiked by all the new activity surrounding them. "Who cares," Jake muttered, sparing a scowl for a pair of agents as they passed. "You see Sherry?" he asked his companions.

"Not yet. This is like Where's Waldo without the distinguishable outfit. And of course I don't ever remember seeing the one where he visited a destroyed city flooded with international bioterror soldiers," Fredrick sighed, scratching his head. "If only- oh, wait. There she is," he exclaimed, pointing off towards one of the helicopters.

Jake followed his finger, squinting across 100 meters. "Son of a bitch," he hissed, moving towards where Sherry stood, Piers leaning on her and a few other B.S.A.A. agents assisting in loading them onto the aircraft.

"Hey!" Jake glanced over his shoulder to see a pair of agents walking towards him. Ignoring them, he continued jogging towards Sherry, Fredrick and Cliff on his heels when an arm shot out in front of him. "Stop, we need you to-"

Not even thinking about the possible ramifications of his actions, Jake grabbed onto the man's arm, twisting it and the agent's body before swiftly kicking his legs out from under him. Sensing the soldier's partner raising his machine gun, Jake quickly rotated, putting all his body weight behind his palm as he used it to shove the weapon into the soldier's face.

Before he managed to get two feet away from the men he had taken down, Jake felt a sharp, hot, familiar pain in his shoulder. Everything moved in slow motion as a ringing noise filled his ears, his eyes drifting to his left shoulder as the warm red liquid began to spread.

"Mother fuck-" he started to hiss as a few B.S.A.A. agents tackled him to the ground.

Jake had woken up later in a holding cell, not knowing how he got there or where there specifically was. Feeling a terrible pain, Jake looked to his side. "Right," he hissed, standing.

He had spent the rest of his time since waking up switching between pacing the room or shouting at the security camera watching him.

Now he sat glaring at the door, his back hunched and his eyes sharp. Jake took a deep breath as he heard the metal locking mechanism creaking to life as the door slowly opened.

Two soldiers walked in and headed straight for him. Roughly they pulled him to his feet, shoving him forward into a brightly lit hallway. "More hospitality?" Jake muttered, instantly earning a swift smack to the back of his head from one of their guns. "Nice. Real professional boys."

They lead him to another door, opening it. Pushing him through, Jake stumbled into the dimly lit room. He glanced over his shoulder to see the door slam behind him. "Score," he breathed, wincing as he straightened up. Turning his attention back to his new small prison, Jake frowned at the table and the single light hanging over it. "This is ridiculous. Could you guys be any more cliché?"

"Have a seat, Muller."

Squinting across the table, Jake approached it slowly, holding his handcuffed hands out in front of him as he sat. "Well if it isn't everyone's favorite Captain, Chris Redfield. How's it hanging, Chief?"

Leaning forward into the light, Chris frowned across the table at the smirking mercenary. "You know, I was hoping since I'd seen you you'd grown up a bit."

"Sorry to disappoint," Jake shrugged, looking confident and collected.

"I don't see what you could possibly be so pleased with yourself about. You're looking at some serious charges."

"Oh yeah?" Jake mused, leaning back in his chair. "Why don't you lay it on me."

Sighing, Chris flipped open the folder in front of him. "Assaulting a soldier of the United States of America, two counts. Attempting to obstruct international operations of the B.S.A.A., one count. Interfering with-"

"Yeah, I don't know why I asked," he snickered, shaking his head. "I don't really give a shit."

Taking a calming breath, Chris pursed his lips as he closed the folder. "You can cut the bullshit, Jake. At this point it is only going hurt your case."

"It's not bullshit," Jake shrugged, regretting it as the pain throbbed in his arm.

"Fine," Chris hissed, shaking his head. Standing, he pushed back from the table. "When you decide you want to talk, I'll be back."

Jake waited until Chris was almost at the door before calling after him. "Wait." Pausing in his movement, Chris looked over his shoulder. "What-is Sherry ok?"

"You going to cooperate?" Chris asked, turning to face Jake, his arms crossing over his broad chest. It made Jake's skin crawl, but he nodded, not saying a word. "Sherry is fine."

Letting out a breath of relief, Jake shrugged. "So, what do you want from me, a confession or something? Do I have to sign on the dotted line in my blood or what?"

"No," Chris mumbled, shaking his head. "I want you to tell me what you were doing in Maldonia. I want to know why you attacked two of my men. You work with me and I'll get the charges dropped."

"What's the point?" Jake shrugged again, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure you already have your own theories and answers to your questions, so just write down whatever you want. Court marshal me or whatever it is your bosses want, just get it over with."

"What were you doing in Maldonia and why did you attack two of my men?" Chris repeated, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

Sighing, Jake rubbed his eyes in a tired way as he slouched down further in his chair. "Why do you think?" he grumbled, looking back up at Chris. Seeing his unwavering expression, Jake shook his head. "I was on contract. The country is a shit hole like a lot of the Middle East and Europe because of all the BOWs. I knocked your little G.I. Joe's on their asses because they got in the way, that's all."

"The way of what?" Chris asked seriously.

Jake looked past Chris to the wall, blinking a few times, his jaw taught. "I was-" he started, the image of Sherry helping Piers onto the helicopter surrounded by B.S.A.A. agents. "He grabbed me." Plastering a salty expression on his face, Jake surveyed Chris critically. "I don't like being touched."

"So it was a reaction to Roberts." It was a statement, not a question. Chris watched Jake closely, gauging his reaction. Jake continued to breathe normally, his face unaffected under Chris's heavy stare. "Killing BOW's for a living doesn't really seem like the self serving guy I witnessed in Edonia and China. I read the report Sherry filed on your time together during the height of the C Virus outbreak."

"So you can read after all. Interesting," Jake mumbled to himself, letting out a minimally amused chuckle.

Chris let out a frustrated sigh. "You know, I'm having a real hard time reconciling the man Agent Birkin described in her report, the one who takes the dangerous job of killing BOW's for a living and the ignorant, immature jackass I'm looking at right now. He reminds me a lot of the idiot kid I met in Edonia."

Jake let out an annoyed snort, shaking his head. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Captain Kangaroo. It's gonna get you nowhere."

"Ok Jake," Chris grumbled, slapping his tights with his hands as he stood.

Frowning to himself, Jake watched Chris as he knocked on the door. "Wait, that's it? You're just leaving?" he asked disbelievingly. "I thought you wanted answers?" Not responding, Chris moved through the door, slamming it behind him.

"Fuck," Jake sighed, slouching back in the hard metal chair as he looked around the room. "Now what?"

Frowning, Sherry closed her menu for the fifth time, her foot tapping at a fast pace as her anxiety intensified. Looking at her watch, Sherry forced her foot still as she re-opened her menu.


"Oh thank God," she breathed, closing her menu and jumping to her feet and throwing her arm around her friend.

Leon smiled, hugging her back. "I take it your first day off was relaxing?"

Sherry smiled, standing back and looking him over. "It's rude to tease, Leon," she scolded, sliding back into her seat. "It's been hell."

"Sorry," Leon apologized as he slipped out of his old leather jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair as he sat. "Have you heard back from the director yet?"

"Yeah," Sherry frowned, her fingers gently tracing patterns in the tabletop.

"No luck with the appeal then?" he asked quietly. Sherry shook her head sadly. Opening his menu, Leon glanced up at her. "Maybe it's for the best, you know. Take some time off. We're those kind of people who work till we can't stand. Sometimes getting them forced on us is what we need."

Sherry's eyes snapped up to his, her mouth agape. "How can I take time off or relax if Neo-Umbrella is out there still in operation doing God knows what?"

Glancing around the fairly crowded restaurant, Leon was pleased to see no one paying any attention to them. Turning back to Sherry, he gave her a sympathetic look. "I know how you feel and I'd be the same way in your position, but there's nothing you can do at this point. You have to wait to be re-instated."

Scoffing, Sherry rolled her eyes as she sipped her glass of water. "This whole thing is absurd. They said I am emotionally compromised," she whispered, leaning forward in her seat. "As if any of us can do this job without some type of emotions getting in the way. We're all human."

"You lost a mother and a child you were supposed to bring in, Sherry," Jake challenged quietly. "I know this job means a lot to you, but even you have to see that this situation is a little close to home."

"If you're trying to say that because she was a scientist and I was projecting my feelings and emotions onto them, you can just save it," she huffed. "I've heard it multiple times from a bunch of different people in many ways. I mean, come on. I didn't even know them. The best argument they have for being emotionally compromised would be Jake, but I'm not and that's none of their business anyway."

"Jake-" Leon started, but their server appeared beside their table, silencing him.

"Good evening," the young woman eyes shifted between the pair as a bright smile settled onto her face. "Are you ready to order?"

"I am. Leon?" Sherry asked. He nodded, gesturing for her to go ahead with her order. "I'll have the grilled chicken apple cranberry salad with the house salad please."

The waitress nodded, scribbling down her order before looking up at Leon. "And for you sir?"

"Steak, medium," Leon said, his eyes scanning the menu before snapping it closed. "Steamed vegetables for my side."

"Excellent choices." The young woman complemented before rushing away.

Leon looked back to Sherry to see her watching him closely. "What?" he asked quietly, reaching for his glass of water.

"Nothing," Sherry murmured, shaking her head. "It's just, how do you do it? I mean, you aren't on leave or anything. But how do you go from field agent and all the chaos to just doing normal everyday stuff in D.C.?"

Setting his glass back down on the table carefully, Leon maneuvered the bottom of his fork slightly to the left so that it was in a perfect straight line. "It never really goes away, that instinct to take a second glance at every single person around you, to scan for every possible weapon and exit. Sometimes I think it's a gift, always being ready for anything. But those occasions are rare. Like tonight, for example," he breathed, his eyes drifting from the silverware to Sherry, all of the previous darkness in his features gone. "If I hadn't gone through all the shit that I have, I would've never met you or Claire."

"Silver lining," Sherry muttered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Silver lining," Leon repeated, nodding his head once. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes just staring at each other, grateful for the friendship they had. Finally Leon sighed, his right hand clenching and unclenching as he felt the unspoken question in the forefront of his mind start to weigh on him. "So… do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Sherry asked, her tone still as lighthearted as it had been a moment ago.

Glancing over his shoulder, Leon double-checked that they were out of earshot of anyone who could be listening. "About what happened in Maldonia. About the scientist and her child. About Jake. Whatever you want, really."

Sherry shrugged casually as she took another sip of water. "You already know the details. What else is there?"

"Sherry," Leon breathed, his left hand reaching across the table for her right. "Losing people is never easy, especially since-"

"No," Sherry interrupted, her jaw setting in a firm line. "Don't you start too. I told them I'm ok. It- everything is fine. I'm fine."

"Ok," Leon said, nodding. "I just wanted to check."

Taking a deep breath, Sherry relaxed slightly as she settled back into her chair. "I don't suppose you've heard anything about Jake, have you?"

"Depends," Leon mumbled, smirking over at her. "Tell me what all you know and I'll tell you what you're missing, if anything. Knowing you, you probably know more than I do."

Rolling her eyes, Sherry pursed her lips as she tried to think of the most recent news she was able to weasel out of Piers. "Well, I know he's being held by the B.S.A.A., but I still can't get a straight answer as to where or why."

"Assault, obstruction of international operations, interfering with an active mission, aiding in-"

"Come on," Sherry hissed, leaning forward, her right hand pointer finger jabbing into the tabletop. "Clearly he was assisting in our mission-"

"He's a hired gun, Sherry," Leon interrupted, shrugging. "He's a mercenary who was stomping around a B.S.A.A. secure location with his buddies and he broke a guy's nose."

Sighing, Sherry ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "I'm sure it was an accident. Besides, doesn't the fact that he saved the world a few years ago mean anything to anyone? You know, like a get out of jail free card or something?"

Letting out a small chuckle, Leon nodded. "It should mean something, and I'm sure it has some merit to it, but since the officers Jake assaulted are on Chris' team, it's up to him whether to drop the charges or not. From what I heard they were willing to let it go, but Chris is having him held regardless."

"You're kidding," Sherry breathed, slouching back in her seat. "You don't think he'll drag Jake through the mud because of Wesker, do you?"

"Chris is one of the most morally driven guys I know," Leon said seriously. "But he and Jill went through hell because of Wesker. I can't speak for Chris, but I don't think I could be 100% objective if our situations were reversed."

Sighing, Sherry nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. "No, I guess not. Maybe you could talk to him?"

Smirking, Leon unfolded his napkin and placed it across his lap. "I knew you would ask."

"Is that a yes?" Sherry smiled hopefully, blinking over at the man she thought of as her older brother.

"I'm grabbing lunch with him tomorrow," Leon breathed, folding his hands on the table in front of him as Sherry practically beamed at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but Leon held up a hand to cut her off. "Don't get your hopes up. I'm going to ask him what the situation is. That doesn't mean he is going to tell me anything we don't already know, and I'm not going to ask him for any favors," he chuckled quietly.

"Still, Leon, thank you," Sherry smiled, breathing a sigh of relief. "You're the best."

Amused, Leon shook his head. "Yeah, yeah. Save it, kid."

Chris sat in his chair in his office starring out the window at the bright lights of the nation's capital at night. He watched absentmindedly as a few agents walked to their cars in the brightly lit parking lot below.

Hearing a chime from his computer, Chris slowly spun back around to his desk, clicking on the blinking icon alerting him of a new message.

Jill: Working late again tonight?

Smirking, Chris typed out a quick response, hitting send.

Chris: No. I'm about to head out.

Moments later, another IM appeared on the screen.

Jill: Ok. Drive safe.

Chris' eyes drifted from the screen to his favorite picture that sat framed on his desk from their wedding day.

Chris: Will do. See you soon, Mrs. Redfield.

Jill: Roger that, Mr. Redfield.

Letting out a quiet chuckle, Chris logged out of his account and put his computer in sleep mode. As he stood, slipping into his dark green B.S.A.A. issued jacket, Chris frowned down at the open files on his desk. One was much larger than the other in comparison, but to him the smaller one had potential to be just as thick. Sighing, Chris' fingers pushed the two men's photos side-by-side, glaring down at them in distaste. The physical similarities between the two men were undeniable, and Chris would be lying if he said he didn't instantly think of Wesker when he looked at Jake. He felt guilty for it, but it was the truth. If only there was some way Chris could know if the son would turn out to be as bad as the father.

At that thought, Chris growled as he zipped up his coat. Walking around the desk, he clicked off the lights, shutting his office door and all the troubles it held within it.

After a minute of fiddling with two paperclips, the lock clicked and the door popped open. The small woman quickly slipped into the office and closed the door behind her. Not hesitating a second, she slipped along the wall and slid into the large office chair, waking up the computer.

Connecting a wire directly into the hard drive, she bypassed the password and was granted access to the internal files. As the attached device searched and downloaded files, the women picked up the pictures off the desk and held them up in front of her.

"Jake Muller," she murmured, smirking down at the photograph. Looking beyond it to the open file, the woman laughed quietly to herself, tossing the photograph aside. Reading through the top sheet carefully, she flipped through the rest, snapping photographs of noteworthy things as she went.

Checking her watch, she quickly disconnected the device that had completed its job of file retrieval and system corruption, sliding it into her pocket. Quietly she exited the room, calmly slipping into the stairwell.

When she reached the bottom and had exited the building, her phone vibrated from its place in her jacket pocket. Swiftly taking it out, she held it up to her ear.

"Is it done?"

"Of course," she murmured into the receiver, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes as she headed for her get away car at a relaxed pace. "I'll upload the files as soon as I'm in a secure location and send them your way."

"Excellent. Well done, Miss Wong. You will receive the rest of your payment when we have everything."

Ada smiled to herself as she maneuvered into her car, starting it effortlessly. "Pleasure doing business with you."