A/N: I started this uh... like 5 years ago. Of course, since I started it, a lot of things have changed in the RE universe. But this is not based on those changes of recent games, this takes place not long after RE4. For this reason, Jake is not in this story... or Peirce. Sherry is in this story but not in the same way she is depicted in RE6. This was written way before RE6 came out, so whatever I did with Sherry came out before the latest game. I don't or shouldn't have to feel the need to justify why Sherry is the way she will eventually be when she is introduced in the story, but some people are assholes and like to troll and flame because they say a character is not depicted accurately, forgetting that this was written at least 5 to 6 years before the latest game was released. That means RE5 and certainly RE6 had not happened yet... or would not have happened. I am not sure. This is the sequel to the story I wrote back in... oh my gosh... 2006? They Say Freak which was a sort of Biography or Ramon Salazar's life before and during his transformation into what we saw in the game. A lot of characters, including OC's are in this story. Everyone from all if not most of the original RE characters and the one's that lived at the end of S. 's novels.
And yes... this is a sequel to the first one. That means that Ramon Salazar is in this too. Since it is a fanfiction based on a completely fictitious storyline in itself... I am at liberty to do whatever I want. You don't want to read about Ramon Salazar and a made up lover and son? Fine. Go away then and don't give me a hard time.
2 DAYS AFTER THE INCIDENT IN SPAIN...
Vicars' Close. Wells, England...
Thunder rolled over the dark grey sky, followed by a sharp and bright flash of lightening that illuminated the entire street. The cobbled stone slick from heavy rainfall. Puddles of water pooled where the stone had chipped away, moss and grass growing up between the cracks. The road was empty, bordered on either side by similar houses of brick and concrete. The windows to all the houses were dark and the street lamps flickered lazily. A tall thin woman was walking alone down the center of that cobbled street in the heart of Wells, England. Her high heels clacking loudly. Splashes of water flecked her bare legs as she walked. Not bothering to keep the water away by an umbrella. Her long red dress clung to her lithe form, the slit of one side exposing one of her sultry legs.
She had a thin gash on her thigh, a recent acquisition and quite frankly something she would rather forget. Recent by way of two days ago. The gash already crusted over with dry blood. She split the Island, doing her job, as ordered by the company. Retrieve the Plaga sample and destroy Saddler and his minions. Of course, one of her other objectives was to kill Leon Kennedy. But she couldn't.
Ada sighed and came to a corner at an intersection. Straight ahead, she could hear the distant rumble of a truck coming toward her. She was very tired and was about to argue with her superior about coming here, but the thought of a case full of money was worth being awake for 32 hours even after her romp through the Ganado infested village in Pueblo. Truth was she hadn't been sleeping all that much in the last 6 years... not since the night in Raccoon City. And the foray into that village in Spain wasn't helping, aside from the fact that Leon was there again, and- like last time she had come within his reach- she used him to get what she needed. She supposed she was lucky she is attractive and could use it to her advantage. All men, including Leon, were dreadfully predictable. Flash a thigh, purr at them and they will do almost anything for you. Not that Ada liked being like that with him. Of all the men she ever had the misfortune of dealing with on a more personal level… not to be mistaken with intimacy… Leon was the least of the hard heads. Oh he is hard headed, but not so macho that he couldn't see she was able to handle herself to a degree. At least… not this time. It was a bit of a cheat for Leon this time around because he had known her before and seen she was fully capable. Men who don't know her all want to protect her. But if she can take down full grown men and even outsmart cultist leaders and that bastard Krauser, and then she deserved to have that stigma taken from her name. So far… Leon was the only decent guy who had.
And- of course- that left him in a tight spot. Just like the last time. When she took the dive, pretending to fall off the catwalk after Annette Birkin shot her. Her acting was sheer perfection. She led Leon to believe they had teamed up and that was partially true… but, it was only to have Leon get his hands dirty and she would reap the rewards. Acting is a forte of hers after all; she had done it many times. Although she had to admit to herself that it wasn't hard to pull off the pain of being shot...the bullet wound hurt like hell. And then, after she disappeared into the descending darkness, she pulled out her trusty grappler gun, and hung there, shaking her head pitifully- listening to Leon scream her name stupidly. Even now, Ada couldn't help the shake of her head. He really was a gullible man. Maybe that is why she liked… and took so much pity on him.
Two days ago he proved how much he'd grown since she last met him. Word had it that he'd been doing other jobs too. Before he was hired on by the government, he was part of a renegade insurgency. A rag tag team of Ex-S.T.A.R.S. and police that which from facility to facility trying to find a way to bring down the pharmaceutical company Umbrella.
Everywhere they went... the facility would be in ruins... viral monsters causing havoc, strange creatures roaming the halls... it was terrible. After the entire fiasco in Raccoon, Leon and the young girl he was with, Claire Redfield met up with some other Ex Special Tactics members... apparently one of them used to be a captain to the Exeter Branch in Maine. Ada had seen files of Leon and his other cohorts infiltrated an underground lab in Utah, just outside the Salt Flats.
Eventually, Umbrella crumbled from within, when Leon and his band of do-gooders managed to finally get the evidence to support their very hefty claim, that and the fact that the president of the United States had to blow Raccoon City off the face of the Earth, brought any and all Umbrella and sister facility manufacturing to a standstill. Temporarily. And while it appeared that Umbrella had died, the suits behind the driving force of the pharmaceutical empire, sit in fancy leather seats in a shiny office, watching the rest of the world like cockroaches in a glass box- laugh at the Presidents futile attempts to stop them, playing God, with everyone, embarking on their twisted game of good versus evil.
But now, after being apparently silenced for good, the crooked whispers of that secretive war monster company have started springing up again like schoolyard bullies talking shit behind cupped hands about the rest of the world like they were the class outcast. Her contact from within the inner circle of White Umbrella has clued her into some recent attempts to re-establish... to bring its research back to life. And here is why Ada Wong is now standing in the middle of a four way intersection in London... waiting for her delivery. On the horizon, the bright flash of headlights cut through the murky curtain of rainfall as it came to a stop at the edge of the adjoining street. A man jumped out, and looked around.
"Do you have it?" Ada asked suspiciously. The man, whoever he was, wore a long grey trench coat, and a hat that obscured most of his face. Her contacts had asked her to come and het this package and bring it back to HQ with her. She was to pick up the item at the pickup location and then go to the Port of London that lies along the banks of the River Thames in London where a personal cruise liner set out by an unknown backer of the operation, someone interested in taking down Umbrella but wished to remain anonymous, would pick her, the package and the vehicle holding the package up and back to the states without having to deal with customs.
"Se..." He answered in Spanish. His gruff and hulking features looked a little distorted the rain and he smelled of alcohol. He nudged his head off to the side and was clearly telling Ada to go to the back of the truck to see the delivery. Ada pulled out a gun, warning the man that if he pulled any fast ones, she wouldn't hesitate to blow a hole in his head.
When confronted with the gun, he lifted his hands and backed away, making damned sure he gave her PLENTY of room. Ada walked passed him and opened the back gate. She was extremely suspicious and had not removed her eyes from the man. Trent told her that the delivery would be a warm body, but Ada was also not too trusting when it came to him either. She knew who his contacts were… who he worked with. If he was really doing his bit to destabilize the company from the inside, why doesn't he go public with the information? He obviously had access to it. She had no illusions that there would be plenty or reason for Wesker to want to bump her off no matter how good she was and her real business wasn't large enough to stop or predict a car bomb as soon as she pulled the handle. Fortunately for her, the real people she worked for didn't rely so much on technology than good ol'fashion human ingenuity. She pointedly aimed the gun at the man who was driving the vehicle and then gestured to the door. She wasn't sure how much English this man knew… but she was sure he wasn't too stupid to understand her mimed orders. And with a gun pointed at him, he wouldn't hesitate to do as told. Unless the truck is rigged. If the truck is rigged to explode and he valued his life at all, he would risk being shot while trying to run… if he ran from her instead of opening the door… then she would know it was a trap. If he opens the door for her, there is a good chance it is not. To her relief he had his hands up and sidled to the door and opened it.
"Pull the package to the edge of the bed and open it." She said with her gun unwavering, her eyes narrowed in mistrust. He did as told, licking his lips nervously and his face pale. Apparently he hadn't been told he may be subject to suspicion and a bitch with a gun. When Trent said 'warm body' she hadn't really expected to see a warm body. She thought to herself that if it was any bigger that a back pack, she was not lugging it anywhere, and as the contents in the truck came into view, Ada actually gasped. She ran to the edge of the truck and tossed her keys at the man.
"Get my car over here! Silver Ford Focus…" she said forcefully. He fumbled with the keys and went off to search for the named car. When he left, she went back to the package and with a bit of difficulty, dragged it to the edge- on the lip of the truck bed, she pulled back the red liner that covered the body, and could not believe her eyes. The last time she saw this face, she was in the village square, early morning light cast on this once pristine face. But a night of crying and stress left Catalina a bit rumpled... but now...
Her pale almost dead face, gray outlined lips and slow breath meant she was alive. Ada was almost certain this woman was killed. She pulled back the lining a little more, looking over her shoulder to make sure she was not being observed when she looked back her fingers parting the material slowly to uncover Catalina's body more. Catalina's bare breasts reacting to the sudden chill in the air and dry crusted filth and blood flaked on her flat belly and the place where the base of her breasts met the flesh covered ribs. Ada's fingers ventured down a little more. She froze, pulling up slightly at the wound there on her lower abdomen. By all rights, looking at the laceration across her belly, there should be no way this woman was still alive. However… there was clear sign that some intervention may have occurred. There was small tendril like parasites wriggling out of the pulpous red sinew and fatty subcutaneous matter that was caked with some sort of brownish black filth… or was it part of the parasite that was obviously growing there? Ada covered the body's slowly breathing chest as the silver Ford Focus she drove into town came behind her with a squeal.
"Help me get the body into the back seat." Ada said and the man nodded noticing that while he was gone retrieving her car, she had not dispensed with the gun at all. They struggled only mildly to get Catalina into the back seat. For she was not very big, the only awkwardness came form her limp and listless body.
Holstering her gun Ada turned when the man coughed. He held out his hand and gestured that she was suppose to give him something. Ada wasn't under the impression that he was bellhop or a waiter-
"What is it?" Ada asked a little irritated as he followed her to the driver's side.
"I was promised incentive!" He said in a thick accent, rubbing his fingers together in her face. Ada only blinked impassively for a second. Trent didn't tell her that she was to give this man anything and apparently he thought she was stupid enough to fall for it. Here is where he could possibly find out otherwise if he wasn't smart enough to think with his mind and not his greed.
"Are you suggesting I remove your fingers as incentive?" Ada asked simply when she unsheathed a dagger from under her dress. The man backed up and rambled in Spanish. He kept mumbling as he backed away toward the truck.
"That's what I thought." Ada said with a small smirk, the dagger back in its sheath.
Watching the coward retreat, Ada's mind raced. Why the hell would anyone want a nearly dead body? Why is Catalina Rodriguez so important? Unless it isn't her per-say… it was the thing that was nestled in her. The parasite that saw fit to keep its host alive that they really wanted.
Ours is not to question why... Ada's business voice echoed in her head. She got in the car and looked in the rear view mirror. She sighed. Whatever the Organization wanted with her, it couldn't be too good. As far as Ada knew, the woman had been killed by Saddler, after the Spaniard Luis Sera set her free. Unfortunately for Catalina, her fight to save her lover- the runt, Ramon Salazar was the last thing she ever did. It wasn't until after Catalina had been killed... or that is what Wesker, Ada and Krauser had been led to believe, after Luis died and Salazar copped it, did Ada find out that Catalina was with child. She found scripts and footnotes handwritten by Sera in the lab on the Island. In the very lab that housed Ashley Graham; the President's daughter.
Ada wondered if this retrieval of her body had anything to do with the child or the parasite… or both... but that voice echoed in her head again- Its not really your business, is it? Ada shook her inquisitiveness away. And though her questions have been tucked away, leaving her job of picking up the package the key reason of her actions, she through the car in drive and headed for the horizon, she couldn't help the slight pang of guilt that burgeoned in her heart, at the thought of the atrocity of her package's bleak existence.
She is a human… a woman… not a package.
She was an innocent sweet woman, who wanted nothing more that to have her lover back, and had the misfortune of getting caught up in this biological warfare, like a reed in a savage wind.