Chapter 30 - Blood, Sweat, and Tears

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| - Extremely Long Chapter - |

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"So they've finally tracked down Raymond after his sudden disappearance four months ago, huh?" Wesker remarks with feigned amusement, rising from his chair. "How convenient."

Ares nods firmly. "He's working as a staff at the Hilton Hotel in Fayeri City now under the name of Nathan Carter," he reports to Wesker while he slowly paces across the room, his skepticism evident enough through his body language.

His steps halt right in front of the expansive window wall, the city's twinkling lights and bustling activity radiating below. "Nathan Carter?" he repeats thoughtfully. "And what do...Sinfuls...want from Nathan Carter?"

"Capture him for interrogation, in order to discover if the corporation has sneaked a Plaga sample under their notice from the suitcase," Ares explains, but choosing carefully his words, in order not to disclose everything regarding the team's plans. He is nervous, and rightfully so because he knows his life holds little to no value in Wesker's eyes.

In the meantime, Wesker doesn't say anything. He only crosses his arms slowly, looking down at the city. His black sunglasses reflect the very sights his eyes behold. "I don't want a single hand laid on Carson," turning around, he approaches Ares, leaning in uncomfortably close. "If you don't want this to be your last day drawing breath, make sure he remains unharmed."

Ares swallows thickly, subtly betraying his unease. "And what of Kennedy and the nurse?"

----

The sound of the alarm reaches my ears, prompting me to slowly blink. As I slowly open my eyes, I find myself back in my apartment, lying comfortably in my bed specifically. However, something is different - the once dark and melancholic pieces of furniture in my bedroom have all been replaced with lighter pieces, breathing new life into the space that had felt so...oppressive, when I first moved in.

Closing my eyes again, I let out a breath of relief, while my head faces the ceiling, enjoying the momentary stillness. Until a soft hum makes my head turn to my side - and there she is. Asleep, so peacefully beside me. Her chest rises and falls as she's cocooned under the covers. This beautiful scene makes me carefully turn my body in her direction, propping my head up on my palm to observe her undisturbed beauty.

My finger traces tenderly on her skin, but faintly enough to not wake her up. For the first time, we both lie there, without anyone behind our backs. Without Umbrella, without the team - away from the fucked up reality we both got dragged into...It's only just the two of us.

Or I thought so.

Suddenly, a tiny gurgle emanates from a specific room and makes me rise from the bed, perching my legs on the edge. I rub a hand behind my neck, moving down to my arm before stretching my back with a satisfying pop. With energy, I push myself up from the bed.

Making my way to the nursery, I see the small fluffy blonde head turning to my direction. Sarah's tiny form lay on her stomach, pacifier bopping as she looks up at me with her big, blue-doe eyes, her chubby palms slamming against the crib, trying to make herself stand up.

"Easy down there," I murmur with a groggy smile, voice still husky from sleep as I approach the crib. Tenderly, I lean down and scoop her up into my arms. "An early bird just like daddy, huh?"

Her microscopic fingers curl into fists, pressed against her chest as she explores my face with her curious gaze. Four months old already. Seems like yesterday she was born, being only the size of my forearm, if not smaller. Now, she's growing so fast, filling out her yellow onesie...the same one we brought her home in.

"Let's go and check on your brothers" I grunt before together, we move out, making our way towards the second bedroom.

My daughter's small coos echo lightly as I creak open the door, to see her big brother still asleep into their beds. She yelps under her pacifier, pointing g at them with her little index.

Closing the door behind us, I lead the way inside the kitchen, taking the baby bottle placed on the counter before I move to the living room, settling down.

Cradling her in my arms, I remove her pacifier and replace it with the small bottle. The moment her small tastebuds taste the milk, she almost holds onto the baby bottle for dear life, making me huff a chuckle. "Slow down, you milkaholic."

Another soft coo leaves her mouth at my jestfulness, her tiny breaths and chews on the plastic resonate through the quiet room. And here I am, looking down at Sarah in awe, feeling a surge of protection. It's an odd feeling, surrounded by your own people- having your own family.

A thought that had always been deep-rooted in the back of my mind.

My thoughts dissolve like foggy clouds the moment I feel your arms wrapping around my shoulders from behind, leaning down to greet me with a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning,"

"Morning," I respond softly, my head turning to peck soft kisses on her lips. "Sleep well?"

"Mhm, yeah," she yawns, circling around to join me right on the couch. Her index caresses our daughter's chubby cheek, moving it down to her tiny palm. Sarah's fingers curl around it as she continues to eagerly drink from her bottle. "Someone woke up a bit hungwy though," she coos in a baby voice that has Sarah's eyes on her mother.

Pressing a gentle kiss on her downy and fuzzy head, she stands up, walking towards the kitchen that is connected to our living room. "Are the boys up yet?"

"No, both of them are still asleep," I rise too, careful of having our daughter in my arms and join her in the kitchen. "How come you're up that early?" at my question, she goes silent for a few seconds.

"Nothing- just had some stupid dream. That's all," she says, attempting to brush it off casually. But at her admission, I go silent. It only became an unwanted reminder of the past that still clings to us, no matter how hard we try to shake it off.

My hand tentatively reaches for her cheek, hoping to offer her some comfort. "One step at a time. Remember?" I murmur, hoping my words will reassure her.

With a soft sigh, she sets down her mug. "I know...but, it's more difficult than I thought.."

My hand falls limb to my side as I look at her, avoiding eye contact with me. Self-blame conquers me once again at her words, knowing damn well that I'm the reason behind her trauma. No matter how much I'm trying, I can't seem to give her the life she deserves.

"So, you're a day off today?" she asks next, trying to change the subject of our heavy-spirited conversation. Respecting her wish, I decide to play along.

"No, I have a night shift at the station," I respond, pouring coffee with my free hand into the mug. "I'll be back in the morning, though."

"I won't be here," she says, her words catching me off guard.

Swallowing slowly the coffee, I give her a confused look. "Where you'll be at?"

"I'll be in Sweden with the kids."

At this unexpected sentence, Sarah starts fussing between us. I can feel my facial features hardening gradually as I process her words. "With the kids?" I repeat slowly, huffing a disbelieving chuckle. "You're kidding me..."

She sighs, closing her eyes tiredly. "We talked about this-"

"We talked about no shit," I interject firmly, my irritation increasing at her sudden decision. "Is this some type of revenge for what happened with Hercules? Is that it?" I demand, but she remains silent. Instead, she releases her mug and heads to our bedroom. Of course, I follow her, my steps quick and purposeful, determined to confront her. But all I find is her packing her suitcase.

No. I can't fucking comprehend this shit. "You can't just leave-....What about me?" I finally ask, letting my pride flow down the drain.

But once again, no response. She just walks up to me and takes Sarah from my arms. "I'm sorry Leon. But I can't be with someone who can't protect his own family."

Her words are sharp enough to cut right into my chest. The moment Sarah's tiny form is taken away from me, the dark furnishings of my apartment return, and the next thing I see, is her walking out of the door - my daughter in her arms.

Leaving me alone once again...

----

9:56 A.M.

- Sinfuls' Base -

Stirring awake, you turn to the side to slowly sit up onto the bed of your bunker room. Rubbing the last traces of sleep away from your eyes, you turn your head along with your arm to slap open the small lamp that offers quick lighting only to find Claire's bed is left unmade, and hear muffled chatter can be heard from inside the main room. With a tired groan, you perch yourself on the edge of the bed, letting out a small, audible yawn.

A tough night passed, and a tougher day lies ahead, where Chris' plan will be put into action. This day will end in either total failure or success. Tonight, either you come back empty-handed, or with Raymond Carson for interrogation, and a step away from freedom.

Rising to your feet, you straighten your tousled shirt and quietly open the door, passing through the narrow hallway, to enter the main room. Inside Piers seems to be in a deep conversation with Claire, while Luis is engrossed in Carlos' laptop.

That's odd. Chris said last night that by morning, you would already have left for the hotel.

"Good morning," your voice grabs the present members' attention. Piers turns away, walking towards the table and tossing some files down with an air of frustration-It seems you have interrupted a heated conversation.

"Good morning." Claire greets back, but her usual calming stance seems to be replaced with gloominess. She seems...tense.

You take a quiet moment to look around the room, noticing the visible absence of Carlos, Hercules, Leon, and most importantly, Chris'. "Where are the others?"

"I think they're with Chris, gathering some intel regarding today's mission," Claire responds and Piers shakes his head in that same disapproval at her words.

"I believed you were the most logical Redfield, Claire." You frown in confusion at his sudden comment, making Claire sigh. "But after your choice, I can't say the same anymore."

Claire turns to him, her hand finding support onto the table. "I told you I'm not a fan of the plan as well,"

"Yet you chose his side."

"Because he needs reassurance," Claire tries to explain.

"He's the Captain of the B.S.A.A.."

"His team's reassurance," she clarifies. "We're nearing a year since this began, Piers, and Chris still doesn't know if we succeed with our primary plan by getting the suitcase the suitcase without anyone laying hands on its contents. Too many people already died because of Umbrella, the cult. Maybe- sticking to this plan, and capturing Carson before Umbrella does, will benefit us more."

"To what?" Piers challenges, turning his full attention to her.

"We'll be able to uncover if Umbrella has a sample-"

"And?"

Claire's mouth stutters. "Find out...why they're after us."

"And?" Piers presses. "Let's say we get Carson to give us all the information we want- though we both know it won't happen. What is our next course of action?"

Claire sighs, clearly growing tired though you don't blame her - she tried desperately to balance everything and everyone over the weeks. "I don't know-"

"Capturing Carson will do nothing. No matter what we do in this specific situation, we won't gain direct access to the corporation unless they attack us."

You take a seat right at the table with an empty mind as you're now too familiar with this scene. It won't take much longer until this conversation will erupt into another heavy argument.

"And what do you suggest? Just sit here and do nothing while Umbrella might already have created duplicates of the parasite? Wait for another outbreak to happen?" Claire crosses her arms defensively.

"So rush choices without considering the consequences are much better, isn't it?" Piers' challenges. Claire averts her gaze at his words and you with Luis exchange a subtle glance before your eyes meet the table awkwardly. "If any threats arise, our corporation will take action. It's what we do. Not risk our lives just because Captain is tired of staying inside the bunker."

"We're all tired, Piers," you speak up wearily, drawing his eyes down to you. "You can't deny that all these three weeks we've been idle with the researches, and on each other's throats."

"Exactly. And you're not doing anything to help."

"What else am I supposed to fucking do?!" Piers finally snaps, shoving his chair back forcefully, making you and Luis twitch. "Go to Umbrella myself?!"

"Aye, calmado you two," Luis says calmly, gaze lifting from his screen.

However, Piers ignores Luis completely and advances to Claire, pointing a finger at her, his voice low. "If anything happens tonight, you take part of responsibility," he sneers.

"Can we stop this here?" you cut in, gently placing a hand between them to create distance. These arguments are far too frequent, it's exhausting to hear them at this point. "Nothing is gonna happen to anyone if we stay together."

I hope.

Right at that moment, the doors of the base slide open - Chris enters the main room, striding directly towards the table. At his presence, Piers takes another step back.

"The three requested vehicles for our ride..." Chris murmurs to himself, barely acknowledging everyone's existence. "...Carson's copy file...his picture- Now Carlos will bring the building's structures..."

At least Chris looks calmer today.

Piers looks one last time at Claire before turning back to the table, sitting down. With the small force, he opens the file before him, expressing the lingering irritation while you look back at Claire.

"What are you murmuring about?" Claire asks, turning her full attention to Chris.

"Just some final details," Chris responds hastily, moving towards the familiar shelf where Umbrella's documents were kept. "Luis, anything new about the hotel?"

"No, so far everything's quiet."

With a nod, Chris leans himself against the back of a chair, still not making eye contact with Piers. Not that Piers seems to care enough to meet his gaze either.

However, it doesn't take long for the team's leader the important absence of two others. "Where's Leon and Hercules?"

"I thought they were with you?" Claire replies, coming over to his side.

"No, I was with Carlos."

"Maybe they're in the training room? Both of them became gym rats." Luis speculates slowly as he searches through the web.

And one starts to act like one.

Chris exhales tiredly, rubbing briefly the bridge of his nose, before he addresses Claire. "Claire, please call them to get back here. We need to finalize plans and roles before we leave town."

"What kind of plans?" Piers asks as Claire nods and makes her way towards the exit while Chris settles down on his seat at the table.

"You'll see in a bit."

"Sense really doesn't change your mind, does it?" Piers speaks up, glancing over at Chris with incredulity. "We're really gonna leave like that for Fayeri City."

"Yesterday's voting spoke for itself," Chris replies coldly, locking eyes with Piers. "It's just a small quest. We'll go there, get Carson, and return to the base."

"You make it sound so simple, Captain," Piers says, the word "captain" dripping with sarcasm. Leaning forward, his voice lowers, "Is it really?" But Chris ignores it. Again.

Just then, the base doors open again, and Hercules appears at the entrance, carrying two large paper bags.

"Oh, good morning, Hercules," Claire steps aside for him to enter.

"Morning," Hercules greets, walking towards the main room and carefully places the bags on the table. Claire follows closely, peering in curiosity into the items. "Fetched some coffees and something for us to eat."

Oof, and you've been craving food a lot since you woke up. Specially some sweet, creamy and chocolate donuts...or some chicken...burgers- oh or your mom's lasagna...anything tasty to just stuff your mouth with. God you're torturing yourself right now, but how you wish you could eat all this- though, it wouldn't probably be the best thing to eat, since last night you were a step away from throwing up your insides.

Quietly, your eyes eagerly move to observe the stuff Hercules begins to pull out and Chris sighs. "With all that, we forget to take care of our basic needs," he murmurs, glancing gratefully at Hercules, who reaches for the coffees from inside. "Thank you, Hercules."

Hercules simply nods in acknowledgment as he continues laying out the food and drinks.

"Have you seen Leon?" Claire asks, peeking from behind him.

Hercules raises an eyebrow, and a mocking smirk crosses his lips. "He was at Wiskays. At the bar area." Just then, the door opens once more, and your gaze falls upon Leon, making his way inside. All eyes, including yours fall right onto him and his slow movements.

"Leon," Claire greets him, making him glance at her. "I was about to come after you."

"I was at Wiskays," he mutters, making his way towards the table. His eyes meet no one's-not Piers', Luis', nor yours. Only at the floor.

As he sinks into the chair beside you, the sweet, unmistakable smell of whiskey wafts over. Hesitantly yet discreetly, you look to his direction, observing him to search for any signs of him being...taken over by the alcohol. You've seen him drunk enough already to figure out when he's out of it or not.

But no. He still seems to be himself so far.

Even though he appears sober, the specific scent is hard to miss... by Chris as well. "Have you been drinking before our quest?" he asks, irritated by Leon's irresponsibility.

"I've done worse," Leon responds flatly, leaning back in his chair wearily.

Before Chris can confront Leon further, you carefully slide one of the paper cups of coffee in Leon's direction. You can't have another round of arguing. For fuck's sake.

"We have a problem," Luis also speaks up, scrolling down with the mousepad as Chris reaches for the offered coffee inside the paper box- Claire, and Hercules taking lastly their seats. "The specific hotel is reserved for a wedding today, so maybe a few outdoor or indoor spaces won't be accessible without the wedding's invitation."

Your own hands then reach for a random packet of breakfast into the small container as Chris takes a sip of his coffee, skeptically. Piers on the other hand looks around the table, searching to capture everyone's reactions.

"Wouldn't consider it a problem. In fact..." Chris' words trail, turning his gaze ahead as he seems to be thinking. "It works to our advantage." A sly smile appears on his lips, meeting your and the team's eyes. "We'll be dressed formally. This will allow us to blend in with the wedding guests under the watchful eyes of the media. No one will suspect we're really there on an operation."

Piers shakes his head, still uncertain of the plan, while Hercules leans forward confused with piqued interest, elbows resting on the armchairs. "That way, we'll draw no attention, and will successfully capture our target."

The way Chris explains the plan offers you hope. Okay, this is a good sign- no- This has to work. With so many guests and tenants around, nothing should go wrong-unless bad luck decides to tag along. But so far, it sounds unlikely.

For the first time in a while, you finally have a good feeling that by the end of the week, you'll be back home.

"That sounds good, but we'll have to be careful," Hercules warns. "I saw cameras on every corner in the reception. Their security measures are no joke."

"Exactly," Piers adds. "The cameras, security guards...We're talking about the Hilton Hotel here. There's no way they don't have extensive CCTV coverage. How are we going to pull this off without being noticed? We need to be discreet."

Chris leans back, a sigh escapes his throat as it seems that he didn't predict the most obvious obstacle. Security.

The base's doors open one more time revealing Carlos. "I got the building's structure plans," he announces, holding up a large, white rolled cardboard paper.

Striding towards the table, Carlos unrolls it with the help of Hercules, revealing the detailed structure of the hotel. Every floor, elevators, parking lots, bathrooms, the reception-every. Single. Inch of the layout.

"Alright..." Chris mutters, unrolling further the paper. "We'll need to split up into smaller teams for this operation."

Claire and Carlos glance at each other, as Leon frowns.

"Why teams instead of all of us together?" Piers asks, leaning forward.

"Didn't you want discretion?" Chris asks with a touch of sarcasm, "Plus it'll be better if we split up to have a complete picture of the virologist's movements."

Neither Piers nor Chris seem to be wrong so far.

Looking down at the papers, Chris studies them intently. Piers clenches his jaw, averting his gaze while Chris begins, "Two will be guarding the parking lot," looking up, he glances at Carlos and Luis. "Carlos and Luis."

Luis offers a nod. Carlos doesn't react. Glancing back down at the structure, his eyes land on the reception area - one of the most important locations. Scanning the faces around the table, his gaze settles soon on Hercules. Chris' head tilts lightly, a slight hesitation can be shown in his eyes-but after two quiet seconds, he speaks decisively. "Hercules. You're the only one Umbrella isn't aware of you yet as the newest member of our team. So I think you'll be the safest option there."

Hercules nods, reclining back onto his chair. Your name isn't mentioned yet, along with your position, so all you do is sit and wait patiently.

Chris' attention then turns to the hotel's restaurant and bar areas. "Claire and Leon, you two will occupy the bar. Looking through that entrance," he continues his instructions, pointing to a specific corner on the thick paper. "You'll be able to see whether Carson will head for the reception."

"Okay," Claire acknowledges, still looking down at the layout.

However, your name and position weren't still announced. Why? You put your vote into this.

"Piers and I will take a sweep over any accessible areas of the hotel to locate the cameras. If we confirm the cameras cover every corner, we'll move to the critical task. We'll locate the control panel, cause a blackout...and create a distraction to capture our target."

"What?" Piers echoes shocked.

"I don't think that's-" you begin to express your own opinion, but Chris cuts you off.

"Before you voice tour concerns...or nagging, we'll first make sure to locate Carson's location. Once any of you will spot our target, you will contact me or Piers, and we will act accordingly."

Not the outcome you expected. This whole plan is filled with holes. You begin to actually think that you might fail miserably.

The whole team stays silent, unable to voice the doubts that are apparent on their faces already. The only one who seems to be agreeing and positive is Hercules. He's too hopeful..unless he does this to feed Chris' ego.

"For now, I want you Claire to finds us clothes, and Piers arrange the fake IDs. We won't be able to get inside without them and we surely don't want our true identities to be exposed," rising from his seat, Chris looks at the rest of the team. "Hercules, you will prepare your first aid, and Carlos with Leon will take care of our weapons. Dismissed."

With that, you realize you're out of the specific mission. What the living fuck?

"What about me?" your bold question causes the team's movements to falter, Chris turning his head towards you and you stand up from your seat as well. "What'll be my role?"

"We've talked about this." He strictly reminds you, "Your role is only inside the base."

Chris' words pass only like thin air from his lips to you. This time, you decide to bring something to the table.

"I concluded the voting by picking up your plan. It wouldn't be fair for me to stay behind," you asswert with a steady voice, and more than determined to follow the team. Besides, going to the hotel is surely on much more safer grounds than what it was in Cuba.

Locking into quiet eye contact with Chris, you catch him thoughtfully. "...Alright then," Looking around the frozen team, he eyes each member, until he decides to re-arrange a few roles. "You'll be with Leon at the bar-restaurant instead. Claire will be with me."

Both of you look at each other at the same time, before both of you avert your gaze, since you caught each other.

"Prepare your gear, everyone. By 12, the first car will depart."

With a nod, you are the first to leave the table, making your way directly to the operating room. However, you can hear steps striding right behind you.

"What was that?" turning around, you see Leon, entering the operating room, and closing the door behind him.

"What was what?"

"You insisting to join us," Leon remarks, his eyes boring yours in slight frustration. "Didn't you want to be out of this?"

"I did, but how am I supposed to be out of something that I've put my vote in? I can't just stay behind."

"So you prefer to set your life to danger. Again."

"Don't we train for situations like this?" you ask, crossing your arms. "I like to believe that...I'm capable enough to protect myself."

--

While the whole team has already spread to finalize the final tasks Chris set, Piers pushes off from his seat, and strides purposefully towards the leader, desperate to make one final attempt to change his mind. "Please, Chris. Think logically," he implores urgently, and Chris sighs heavily, closing his eyes. "The whole plan is too risky with the presence of so many. Let's hold off on pursuing Carson and focus on our investigation. It's the safer route we can take," stepping closer, Piers' voice grows into a whisper. "We are a bioterrorism corporation...meaning Umbrella's strongest enemy. One misstep and we could fall into our own trap."

"Carson is hiding from Umbrella. We survived Cuba. What could possibly go wrong with a hotel, filled with people?" Chris asks as he turns around to face his once, best operator.

Casting a final judgemental look, showing his disappointment at the lack of trust Piers has visibly developed, Chris heads towards the exit, leaving Piers speechless.

--

Stepping out of the operating room to take the small container with your food, you catch Piers standing across from the table, his gaze fixed on the building's structure and the virologist's photo on the table.

A pang of guilt washes over you as you approach him slowly. Right now, Piers is literally on his own, and you hate that you don't allow yourself to listen to him. It's clear he cares deeply for the team-perhaps even more than you ever realized.

Lifting his head, he finds your gaze upon him, and hesitantly, you approach him. "You hate me again. Don't you?" you ask softly, forcing yourself to look at the floor instead. "And this time, you have every right to-"

"I never hated you in the first place," Piers crosses his arms. "But I don't want to lie and say I'm not disappointed with your decision."

"I know you are but..." your words fade, not knowing how to articulate your reasoning. Explain the situation itself. "I couldn't do this to Chris, Piers. You have to understand me."

Piers curtly nods, his arms fall slowly to his sides. "Get ready then."

Watching him walk away, you sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. It's really no one's fault but yourself. If only you would stick to your decision and reject Chris, or Leon when he tried to bring you back after you quit the first time-none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be here right now.

This is the price you pay.

----

Tic, tap, tic, tap...

----

4:06 P.M.

Without further delay and patience, the plan is put into action...

It's a warm, cloudy noon at the Hotel Hilton. Everything so far unfolds as Chris requested, with the third car now arriving at its designated spot.

Luis and Carlos pull up right into the parking lot underground the hotel as they were instructed. Their car is black, sleek, and discreet from any nosy eyes, making it far from different. They park opposite a black van, where Raymond Carson is slated to be transferred.

Carlos kills the engine and glances at the rearview mirror to adjust his tie while Luis reaches for the communicator next to the radio. After tuning it, he contacts Chris on the other line. "Chris. We arrived at the hotel."

"Roger. You're in your position?"

"Si. Carlos and I are in the car."

"Any sign of the 'virus'?"

Luis pauses, both men turn their head to see only an elderly couple exiting their vehicle. Observing their appearances, they all seem well-dressed, with an attitude that screams 'i'm rich' just from the way they're carrying themselves.

"No. Just a few guests."

"Alright. Sweep the parking lot for cameras and call Leon to proceed."

"Okay," Luis set down the radio with a sigh, feeling a sudden tightness in his chest. Loosening his black tie slightly, he tries to ease the unfamiliar feeling of suffocation as he cautiously glances over the car's mirrors, his nervous movements not escaping Carlos' notice.

"That's new," Carlos chuckles as he looks back at the mirror, hand gliding down softly against his tie. "You were always the optimist of the group in worse shit. Why are you so nervous now?"

"I'm not nervous. I'm hot," he grumbles, pressing the button to lower the window. "How can a car like this have broken air conditioning?"

"Listen, I did you the favor and endeared your Hispanic songs for four hours. Don't start yapping about the air-conditioning too."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Luis groans, feeling the sweat bead on his skin. "How aren't you melting?"

"Trust me, I'm sweating like a pig in a jacuzzi but I'm patient," Carlos says, reaching the driver's door with the small control panel on the armchair, he presses the button to roll up Luis' window. "And remember what Chris said about the windows-"

"Sí, sí, son a prueba de balas...Tu puta madre. (Yes, yes, they are bulletproof)" Luis murmurs in a mocking tone more to himself, reaching for the radio again. As he tries to adjust the sequence, he sighs exasperatedly. "Ai, ai...I should be at the bar instead with señorita. Find me a nice lady to take out for dinner once we're done with this."

"What about (y/n) herself, huh? Finally decided to give up on her?"

"Well, she's officially off-limits. Can't touch Leon's woman now, eh?" Luis qups playfully as he finally gets connected with the base. "Aaaand speaking of Sancho, Leon, we're in position. Where are you?"

"You called at the base. Where do you think I am?" Leon's voice crackles through the radio.

Carlos chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as Luis clicks his tongue audibly. "Don't be late."

--

The hours passed extremely fast, where now your fingers run through your sides, adjusting the red silk against your body. From outside the small bunker room, you overhear Leon talking with one of the team's members through the communicator. You're the last pair to leave any moment now.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes briefly. However, the moment you hear Leon saying: 'We're leaving in five', sends a wave of anxiety. Internally, you pray things go well, because Piers' sentence haunts your mind since the morning.

'If anything happens tonight, you take part of responsibility.'

The door creaks open, makes your body snap and quickly turn around to see Leon standing at the doorway. Your eyes lock onto him-or rather, onto his impeccably dressed form. He is dressed in a black suit, a glimpse of a grey shirt peeking from beneath, and a neatly knotted black tie around his throat- every detail perfectly in place except for his hair of course. He would never take part in total formality, and at least slick it back for the sake of the mission...Look more decent in the specific attire. All in the meanwhile with Leon's eyes shamelessly wandering around your own form.

A small silence envelops between the two of you, glancing down at the dress before back at him. You can feel your cheeks lightly heating up, not used to Leon...literally checking you out.

Clearing your throat, you slowly, yet awkwardly bring your hands together. "Who were you talking to?"

"...With Luis. They're at uh..." pausing, he meets your eyes. "The parking lot of the hotel. We have to go," he finally utters as his eyes finally find yours.

"Yeah..." you murmur, reaching for your small black purse - the perfect disguise for your medical tools. As you approach Leon, he steps aside with gentlemanly grace allowing you to pass. Time to get this over with.

----

Hercules paces slowly back and forth inside the main room, his gaze fixed on the elevators as he internally crafts yet another excuse if soon will be questioned by the reception, aiming to maintain his discretion.

His moves grasp the attention of a well-groomed staff member, and with his hands behind his back, he delicately approaches.

"Would you like to head to our bar and wait for your friend there, Mr. Jenkins?" he suggests, prompting Hercules to turn around and clear his throat.

"Yeah uh...I prefer to wait for him here," Hercules replies, his tone casual but firm. "Just so we won't lose one another."

"As you wish," with a gentle bow, the groom offers, "Would you like a drink while you wait?"

"Ah, just some water would be nice."

With a kind nod, the receptionist walks away as Hercules sets back onto his seat.

To add further cover, he walks towards the waiting spot, settling down onto the black, leather couches, reaching for an indifferent newspaper. Subtly, he reaches for his earpiece. "No sight of the target so far."

"Same. And the hallways have cameras too," Chris voice crackles suddenly through the earpiece.

"Mm, well...quite predictable," Hercules murmurs, casually flipping through the newspaper while discreetly scanning around to ensure he's not being watched. "What's our plan then?"

"We're waiting for the final report from the parking lot. If they have cameras too, we'll need to find a way to escort the target out of the hotel. Willingly, of course."

Acknowledging Chris' update, Hercules accidentally makes eye contact with a man dressed in black inside the elevator through its glass door. He leans forward as that man...appears to be Raymond Carson, finally steps out of the elevator, heading over to the reception. However, Raymond isn't dressed in a groom's attire.

"Target in sight."

"Did he see you? Recognize you maybe?"

"No, nothing," Hercules reports in a low mutter, keeping his eyes on Raymond. He watches as a couple at the reception hand their keys to the receptionist before heading to the elevators. A few seconds later, the receptionist hands the car keys to Raymond, catching the word "park."

"Keep me informed, Hercules." Chris urges through the earpiece, making Hercules close the newspaper.

"Virus is in the main room..." he pauses, observing closely Raymond getting back to the elevator. "He's a valet."

--

"Well, that was the last corner. No signs of a single camera in the parking lot." Carlos concludes as he slid back into the driver's seat while Luis dramatically wipes the sweat off from his forehead. "We just got the company of our valet fella, about ten meters away."

"We spoke too soon," Luis murmurs, keeping an eye on their surroundings as Carlos settles in.

Carlos reaches for the communicating radio, trying to reach Chris. To his luck, he manages to get connected on the other line almost immediately. "Chris, no cameras in the parking lot. Just a valet who seems to be patrolling."

"Another one? Shit."

Carlos and Luis exchanged confused glances. "What do you mean?"

"We got an update about Virus' position. He's a valet himself."

----

6:25 P.M

Looking out the window, you watch the rain pounding against the highway, while inside the car it's dead silence, hearing only the storm's water slapping rapidly the vehicle. Leon stoically occupies the driver's seat, while you're seated by his side.

You're troubled. Way too troubled. Three hours in here, sitting close, either of you uttered a word to eachother.

Your hopes begin to die further each second as Leon doesn't seem to speak his mind about the situation. You know he's extremely against this task. And each kilometer you pass, your anxiety only mounts on what you also might face.

Suddenly, the haunting silence shatters by your phone ringing. Fumbling in your purse, you retrieve it to find Ava's name flashing on the screen-a surprising call after a week being the last time you two spoke.

A few seconds pass with you just looking at the buzzing device. Ignoring it isn't an option; if you don't answer, you know your mother will undoubtedly follow with her own concerns. So you really can't take any risks and try to figure out another lie.

With a resigned sigh, you answer, keeping your voice as casual as possible. "Hey, Ava."

"Auntie!" but instead of your sister, you hear that small, adorable, squeaky voice that unmistakably belonged to no one else,

But Irene's.

Sitting up straighter, a soft smile crosses your face as you continue looking ahead at the road. "Irene- how are you, sweetheart?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Leon glancing at you when he hears you say Irene's name.

"Mommy said you'd be back two days ago. Where are you?"

You really can't fool kids nowadays. They have a memory of an elephant.

Closing your eyes, you swallow thickly. "I'm...gonna be back soon, okay? Just have some things to settle at the university," you try to explain, leaving any details that can possibly reach Ava or your parents' ears.

"How soon?" Irene presses.

"Well...next week I'll be back," you hate lying to her constantly,but you have no other choice. "And tell you what, when I'll be back, I'll talk tell mom to bring you over so we can spend the weekend together. Just like before, okay?"

A soft gasp of excitement echoes from the other line, making yout huff a chuckle through your nostrils.

"But this time, you'll come, okay?" Irene says, noticing a hint of complain in her usually cheerful voice. It's definitely a first for you, since Irene never complained about anything regarding you. And now, you feel like you're betraying her trust and letting her down again.

"I will. I promise," you try yourself to sound convincing enough. Glancing at Leon, who remained focused on the road, you returned your attention to your phonecall with Irene. "Tell me though, you little devil, how did you manage to call me? Did mommy want to talk to me?"

"No, she's taking a shower."

So Irene called you...herself. The realization hits you hard. Fuck...you knew she missed you because your mom told you so, but you didn't realize it was this much until now. Which breaks your heart.

If only you could be back.

"Ahh...I see..." you murmur instead, stealing another glance at Leon. It's enough to come reality of the current situation. "Listen, I have to get back to work okay? But tell you what, once I'm done, I'll call you so we can chat. Deal?"

"Okay," after a brief pause, Irene adds, "I'll go make some more drawings for you to see when you come back."

Chuckling softly, you nod to yourself, getting teary at her sweet words. Not just because of her words...but because you realize how much you miss her. How you were making bear pancakes, blabbering and showing you non-stop her favorite plushies, watching together Tom & Jerry-and being the only person who managed to make you escape insanity after you returned home from Cuba.

You miss your family. You want to go back home. And now speaking with Irene can be a sign. Maybe...choosing Chris' idea is what will bring everything to a good end. It starts to lessen your regrets.

"I can't wait to see them," you say quietly, looking down at your lap, absentmindedly toying with the small golden chain straps of your purse. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Auntie!"

"Love you...Bye..." your hand falls to your thigh as you hang up the call, your eyes linger on the small silver phone as you're getting...swallowed in this tense silence again.

"Your niece?" Leon's voice breaks through, his tone soft. You nod in response. "She really loves you," he remarks, making you chuckle tiredly as you stow your phone back into the purse.

"Yeah..she does." you admit quietly as you recall her exact words only few moments ago. "She said she's gonna make me more drawings for when I come back."

A faint smile tugs Leon's lips, seemingly touched by Irene's gesture. But to your continued surprise, all these weeks, and he still didn't tell you about his visit to Ava's house, back when you were hiding in his apartment. You want to ask him the reason he did it, but will he actually answer?

You swallow in the wedge in your throat, avoiding meeting his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed on the foggy road ahead, blurred by the cascading rain. Yet, before you can even control it, the question slips out unexpectedly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you stopped by my niece's house to give her the gift that day?"

Of course, Leon only expresses his usual nonchalance. "No reason."

"No reason..." you repeat quietly, feeling confused...and frustrated over his response.

The way you uttered those two words, make Leon sigh. "I just didn't want you to worry over me. That's all."

Part of you wants to press further, to understand why he had gone in the first place, but instead, you murmur a quiet "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Deciding to quit, your head falls back against the seat, and choosing to end the conversation here.

"So uh...You're alright?" Leon asks, attempting to change the subject, or break the silence. This whole time, he doesn't make a single attempt to look in your direction, his focus still on the road ahead. "You seemed to be under the weather earlier."

"I'm fine," you respond blankly, looking back at the window to the side. "Just all this...hide and seek-the ongoing stress, I suppose, has some impact on me I guess."

Leon nods gently, his hand resting on his thigh while the other remains steady on the steering wheel. "You know, maybe we should take a break from the training," he suddenly suggests, glancing briefly at you. "I've pushed you pretty hard the past weeks."

"Who says we will need it anymore after tonight?"

"As long as you're with me, we might," he replies, his eyes finally meeting yours briefly before returning to the road. "Unless maybe tonight changes everything, and it's just a matter of time before we go our separate ways."

"...Maybe." the tone in your voice at the specific word comes more steeler than intended.

"Or hopefully?"

That's when you both lasp into silence once more, leaving his question unanswered. You realize that you're also back to small talks. Back to mixed signals. This time, it's worse because of the very fresh past you both now share - he knows what you feel about him, and you know...think you know what he feels about you. But all of that got ruined, apparently, because for once you said something that didn't ring his ear the right way.

And it was right in the moment when you believed that Leon started to change. Being more open, with you at least...sweet, tender too.

God...you feel like you're trapped in a home with no doors and windows. On one hand, you have the team, the corporation, and the past you're desperately trying to run away from, on another Leon, who only him is a whole chapter himself.

This is an endless circle that has been going on in your head, specifically since the time you were forced to re-join the team. It all goes thinking about the stupid choices you made, that always end up back to Leon. He officially pushes you away, and pulls you right by his side whenever he feels like it. To be exact, this is what has been happening from the moment your paths crossed again that faithful night at the bar. The drunken night where you first kissed...

Just then, the more recent memories begin to flood your mind, where you and Leon, no matter how short your beautiful moments were, still exist, and never managed to leave your mind.

Especially the moment he was making love to you, he confessed that he fell for you.

-

"... I meant everything I said last night, so I will do...anything to keep you safe..and smiling. Always remember that."

"Can I say something then?"

Leon frowns, tilting his head lightly in question. In an instant, your arms encircle him, arms immediately wrap around his neck into a tight hug. A grunt of surprise escapes Leon as you topple him onto the bed, the mugs for the coffee falling down but neither of you pay attention. Only Leon's arms slowly hugging you back.

"That the feeling is mutual. Like very much," you finally confess shamelessly.

"I think I figured that out by now," Leon jests, his hand finding its place on the small of your back.

"Yeah, but it feels so good that I get to tell you that I'm...in love with you."

-

You sneak a glance at Leon and can feel an unusual shift in the tension between you and him. As if now both of you struggle to just turn the wheel- fuck everything and everyone and leave this mess instead. But how, when you want to help the innocent?

Unless all this returns to one-sided. Just like it has always been.

Because the more you observe Leon's behavior towards you, you start to believe that maybe you were a phase for him afterall. Someone he easily got over with.

Something...to relieve stress.

It physically hurts. It drains you emotionally.

Meanwhile all on the other hand, you have this...stupid team, getting exhausted by this whole chase, parasites and that fucking Umbrella corporation that is threatening your life - there. Here you go again...

You don't know where the fuck to focus.

Blinking rapidly, the stubbornness and anger towards the whole situation are visible, and unwanted tears roll down your cheeks.

You curse in your head, unable to control the abrupt moodiness. Not wanting to catch Leon's attention, you hastily wipe them away as you keep your head turned away from him. You don't want his pity.

In the meantime, Leon's hand left the wheel momentarily to adjust the car's gear shift before finding the radio and switching it on. Soft music fills the car, blending with the smooth hum of the engine and the rain's consistent tapping.

However, the song that plays triggers memories of the quiet movie night you shared at Leon's place. The most tranquil moment you've had in a long time.

"You know...At your apartment, for a moment I forgot about...all this," you say softly. "It all felt like how my life used to be before I..." You pause hesitantly. "...joined Chris..."

Leon's hand moves smoothly around the wheel, not making a single comment. Indifferent by his reaction, you continue, "And each day that passes, I only regret it further for coming back after I quit."

Leon stays silent. You catch a glimpse of Leon, noticing the subtle tightening of his jaw. It's not anger etched on his features, but something more complex. Something you can't quite put your finger on.

"Is there anything else you regret?" Leon's question cuts through pointedly.

"Depends..."

"About us." Leon finally says. "You regret what happened between us?"

The same question falls from his lips, as he's trying to make you regret. But you're unwavering. You don't regret having Leon being your first in so many ways, except for one thing: you regret loving him.

Yet, you can't stop. Your heart refuses to let go.

"I don't think this is the right time to talk about this..."

"One word will answer my question," Leon cuts you off, looking straight at the road.

"...You mean having sex?" he doesn't respond. "What do you expect my answer to be?"

"I don't expect anything. Just the truth."

You shift in your seat, looking at the window. "No. I don't regret it." Looking at him, you slowly speculate. "But I think you do."

Still. Nothing. You sigh, eyes facing your lap. You forgot how Leon was before, and now you hate it more.

"When we got stuck at your place...I saw a version of you I never believed I would ever see," Your eyes drift to his hand resting on the gear shift, resisting the urge to hold it. "It was... tender, caring..." those images keep on coming back. Vivid, and bittersweet. "I saw a version of you...who also seemed to forget the mess we have behind us. Someone who forgot he's an agent, but an ordinary guy, enjoying for a bit- life. It was as if you transformed overnight," you pause for a bit, shruging confused. "It made me wonder for a moment if this is who you were all along, but you just chose to hide it."

Leon shakes his head slightly. "I guess..I used to be like that once," he admits, his voice low and gravelly. "But life has a way of reshaping people. It certainly changed me. The past, changes you." he says, emphasizing the final sentence.

"No, Leon. They don't. You want to show, try to convince everyone - maybe even yourself - that you've changed. To prove that nothing can shake you, frighten you, or betray you again. I thought after Cuba I became like that too...but turns out- we can't really change who we are," your eyes finally meet... "No matter how much we try to bury it, there's always a part of us that reveals our true nature," looking at Leon, you add quietly. "Am I wrong?"

Leon looks back at you for a moment, and you can see the crease on his brows softening gradually. His features in general, betray a hint of vulnerability, and the walls he's desperately trying to maintain, crack a bit.

At the peak of the conversation, the crackle of the communicator interrupts, drawing Leon's attention. You clear your throat, as you re-adjust your purse in your lap as his hand moves instinctively to answer, only to hear Chris.

"It's Chris. What's your status?"

"In the car," Leon reports, the tone in his voice shifting to strictness once again. "In an hour, we'll be at the hotel."

"Alright, listen, both of you. 'Virus' isn't working as a groom. He's a valet. What I'll want from you is to park the car right next to the van. Once you reach the reception, you'll hand the car keys to them you will proceed directly to the restaurant as instructed. We'll initiate the final phase from there. Maintain radio silence until I give the all-clear. Understood?"

"Got it," Leon says.

"Good. Be careful...it's all up to you now. We're waiting for you."

As the radio falls silent, you turn to Leon, your brow furrowed in confusion. "So...all we have to do now is simply park the car next to the van?"

"Looks like it."

"What if it's occupied?"

"Chris sounded confident. Perhaps the others took care of it."

"Let's hope..." you murmur, clutching the purse against your stomach, letting the previous conversation slowly fade away.

----

8:50 P.M.

- Hotel Hilton -

"It's me...the final car arrived at the hotel."

"Which one is it?"

"Guess."

A scoff echoes. "Alright. Seems it's finally time to introduce ourselves."

----

9:01 P.M.

Hotel Hilton is buzzing with life, laughter, and activity. Guests keep arriving, security covering meticulously every corner of the entrance/exit and countless staff wander the grand hotel, ready to serve.

Hercules meant what he said - cameras are everywhere inside the building, monitoring every single individual's movement. Each step and action has to be executed with utmost subtlety.

Right outside the hotel, you and Leon look at the open entrance, chatter, and music filling the air with something more pleasing than the mess going on in your mind.

"Let's do this..." Leon whispers to himself, fixing his tie and turning his head to you. Gently, he offers you his arm for support. Hesitantly, you wrap your arm around it, trying your best to setting aside personal matters for the sake of the mission. In this moment, you are simply the team's doctor, and Leon, an agent-working together with the goal to stop Umbrella.

Together, you enter the bustling reception hall, finding Hercules idle on his spot. Passing him, you make your way to the reception counter where a staff member awaits.

"Good evening. Can I help you?" the receptionist asks kindly, shifting his gaze from Leon to you. Leon took the lead, producing a fake ID and placing it on the counter.

"Mr. and Mrs. Parker. We're here for the wedding," Leon states confidentally, while the receptionist inspects his ID. You stand right by Leon's side, your heart thundering inside your chest, hoping to won't get caught. Leon wraps his arm around your waist gently, offering a silent gesture of comfort.

After those past inner tumultuous seconds, the receptionist slides the card back to Leon, who smoothly tucks it inside his black suit's coat. "It's in the garden, right across from the hotel's bar restaurant, Mr. Parker. But you'll have to give your invitation card there."

"Will do. Thank you," wrapping a gentle arm around your waist, his arm still around your waist as he retrieves the car keys. "Please have my car properly parked too. We were in a rush."

"As you wish, Mr. Parker," the receptionist nods, accepting the keys from Leon.

"C'mon, honey." Leon says, leading both of you towards the directions you both got. But instead of going to the garden, you move right across the bar.

Your arm finds support back on Leon's, both of you moving with slow, delicate steps as Leon explores the surroundings. Your palm clasps around his bicep, feeling a sudden a surge of anxiousness rushing through you. Your other hand finds your purse against your hip, clutching it tightly.

Getting into his role, Leon's hand lowers to the small of your back, guiding you towards the bar counter.

Reaching the counter, you settle on the stool, Leon joining your right side, reaching for his earpiece to announce you're the last ones to enter your positions. Placing your purse on your lap, Leon fixes his tie, still scanning for the main target. Opening discreetly your purse, the small picture of Raymond Carson amongst the medical tools inside appears right on the very top, prompting you to follow suit, to subtly survey the unfamiliar faces inside the restaurant.

"We're in position," Leon is the last to announce before the now extremely simple quest officially begins.

Time for this to be over.

----

10:00 P.M.

A sigh leaves you as it's been an hour and still no signal from anyone's end. What's taking so long?

"No. No sign of him here," Leon suddenly reports discreetly at his earpiece while you're seated by his side, probably feeling at your worst right now. Because you're obliged to scan the crowd in order to catch a glimpse of Carson.

Observing people eat, how the food is disgustingly melting in their mouths, even the smell of the food is enough to make you nauseous. Turning to the counter, you take a large sip from your soda, hoping to ease it.

"Alright. We'll be in touch." Leon concludes, releasing his fingers from the earpiece before slowly reaching for his glass on the counter. Turning his attention back to the counterbar of the hotel's restaurant, you silently watch him down his whiskey. Which reminds you- he already drank in the morning, and now he drinks again.

You open your mouth but then, remember you've talked to him about his drinking before. It seems to constantly fall on deaf ears. His self-destructive habits are taking a toll on both his mental and physical health. And as the days go by, it shows more.

"What did the others say?" you ask instead.

"Chris said he didn't take the keys yet, according to Hercules," Leon replies quietly, his eyes never straying from the stream of people passing by. "If we see him pass by there," he gestures subtly with his eyes to the left, near the exit. "It means he's heading to the reception. We inform Hercules."

Nodding, your fingers curl against the surface. "So all we have to do is wait for him to get into the parking lot."

"Mhm," Leon hums in agreement. "From there, Carlos and Luis will take care of it. Once they have him, we leave."

You look skeptically at the floor. Everything sounds and flows so smoothly...so easy.

"I hope everything goes according..." you murmur, fingers nervously toying with the purse' black leather.

"You voted for this." Leon casually reminds you, but to you, it feels like there's a pang of bitterness in his remark.

Deciding to keep quiet, you turn your attention back to the crowd and the exit of the restaurant to catch any sign of Carson. But this...annoying and constant smell of cheese, meat, and many more dainties inside the place makes it difficult for you to focus.

Looking at the floor, your mind automatically concentrates back on the faint wave of nausea that gradually begins to grow. Your eyes close momentarily, swallowing lightly and take one deep breath before you open them once more.

With a light thud, Leon's glasses touch the surface. "Are you feeling better?" you suddenly hear him ask.

"Yeah..." you respond with a soft sigh. Just wanting to throw the fuck up.

You can tell that Leon senses something amiss, turning towards you with a deeper concern. Leaning closer, he studies your face. "You're sure? You got pale."

"I'll be fine," is the only thing you say, reaching for your glass and finishing your soda in one large gulp.

As the minutes pass, Leon nurses his drink while you remain seated beside him, trying to shake off the discomfort that comes and goes. You reassure yourself that it will pass. But no. This time it doesn't for some reason.

Your hand moves to your chest in discomfort. It feels like you're going to vomit right on the floor.

You try to swallow, while the known feeling now with your saliva watering, your heart racing, and your palms beginning to sweat becomes too familiar. You continue your very best to make your mind think of other things. The noise in the bar becomes a distant blur, and you focus on breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Shit. This is bad. Real, real bad.

"Hey," suddenly, Leon's hand finds your arm. "What's wrong?" he asks gently. But you can barely muster a response. He's only holding your arm, and it feels suffocating. Your breathing grows more paniced as you push up from the stool and your hands quickly clasp your stomach and mouth.

You're gonna throw up.

Leon's worry deepens, and he stands up from his stool, reaching out to you again. "(y/n). Talk to me-" Pushing him away with a shove that makes him stumble back, your focus remains unwavering to the exit, rushing towards the nearest bathrooms. Miraculously, you manage to find it almost immediately, rushing inside without offering a glance to your surroundings.

You storm into the bathroom and head straight for the first available stall. Slamming the door shut behind you, your hand falls away from your mouth as you collapse onto your hands and knees...releasing the only meal you managed to eat in the morning right into the toilet. One of the most unpleasant, discomforting feelings in the entire planet. Throwing your guts up. And after days of trying to hold it in, today is the day you failed.

As you struggle to recover from the ordeal of vomiting, you hear the door to the women's bathroom close and the sound of approaching heels, but you pay no attention. You're too busy dying.

Finally feeling empty, you groan softly as you close the toilet lid and flush. Weakly standing up to your feet, you sink back onto the toilet seat, taking a moment to gather yourself, while with trembling hands, you grab some toilet paper to gently wipe your mouth. You've always felt dirty, like absolute garbage, every time you've vomited in your life. Yet, there's a strange relief mixed in with the discomfort.

As the critical seconds pass, you finally stand up and adjust yourself, before slowly open the stall's door. Stepping out, you place your hand once again over your stomach, approaching the sinks to clean up properly.

Opening the lid, you pour a handful of water into your palm and wash yourself by cleaning your mouth. Spitting any remnants of the displeasing, sour taste, you lastly wash your hands, feeling much better than before.

As you dry your hands, your eyes find your figure, the paleness on your face lingering.

"Are you alright?" the soothing voice of a woman makes your head turn to see her standing near the exit of the bathroom. She's petite, dressed in a red dress similar to yours, with short black hair and monolid eyes that give her an almost ethereal appearance.

The sound of her heels elegantly echo again as she walks up to you, her hand extending, handing you a tissue.

"Yeah," you manage to utter, nodding gratefully as you accept the offered tissue. "Thank you..."

A few seconds pass in silence as you wipe your lips, and the woman, almost pryingly looking at you. "Are you from the bride or the groom's side?"

You blink. "What?"

"Aren't you here for the wedding?" she asks, eyeing your formal outfit.

Seems she's here for the wedding. Or not.

"Ah yeah- Uhm...the bride's," you lie confidently.

"Me too," leaning against the sink counter and crossing her arms. Her eyes squint slightly with skepticism. "Have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so,"

"Well, time to meet now then," she extends her hand in a slow, delicate motion. "Ada."

Raising an eyebrow, you nod lightly, giving your own hand. "Natalie," you greet back.

You're no fool to give your real name when you're being chased. Especially since you're here for a mission, no matter how 'short' it is. Better to play safe and smart, even if she's just a simple guest in a wedding.

Ada nods, gently removing her hand. "You're here alone?" she asks next. "In case you'll be in need of someone, because you look still unwell."

"N-no, uh.." you falter, dabbing gently at your mouth with the tissue and pulling away from the sinks. "I'm here with my...husband."

A faint smirk appears on Ada's lips and she nods. "Hm, I see," she says softly, letting her arms relax at her sides. "Well, Natalie, I hope you feel better," she offers sincerely, turning towards the exit. Just as she opens the door, she glances back at you once more. "I have a feeling we'll meet again. Soon."

You feel your brows twitch in suspicion at her declaration, watching her silently as she steps out of the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

Slowly, you turn back at the sink, your hands resting on the white marble, facing your reflection in the mirror. You hope this is only another trick your mind is playing you, but this Ada woman didn't seem good news.

--

"Something's up with (y/n)-" Leon reports to Claire in concern as he rushes his way, searching for the bathroom, but as he reaches the corridor, he encounters an unexpected, yet unpleasant surprise-

"Ada..."

"Leon, what a surprise," Ada taunts, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she approaches him. "Not."

Leon's features harden as he takes in Ada's presence, noticing her in a striking red dress that hugs her slender curves. "What are you doing here?" he asks sharply.

"Always so suspicious," she teases, brushing past him with a slight sway in her step. "Just offering a little help. How else are you going to capture 'Nathan Carter'?"

Leon's brows disdainfully drop at how confidently Ada reveals the reason the whole team is here for.

"How do you know about him?" he asks, but Ada doesn't respond, continuing her way. Turning, Leon walks after her and grasps Ada's wrist firmly, forcing her to face him. His eyes pierce right into hers. "Answer me for once instead of walking away, Ada."

Ada looks back at Leon, her features linger right on his face. Her own expression unreadable "Tried to warn you about the nurse. You choose to not listen," she cryptically says, making Leon's hand slowly drop.

Her words silence Leon. Without another word coming from both of them, Ada walks away from him, until she disappears.

----

Hercules stands steadfast next to the exit, gaze never leaving the reception. Despite every single attempt to maintain his cautious stance, he finds himself scolded once again by the receptionist for lingering too long

"Sir, you've been here for quite some time," the receptionist remarks politely, yet sounding a bit impatient.

"I know, I know. But my friend got lost on the way to the hotel. I need to wait for him...you understand.."

Raising an eyebrow skeptically, the receptionist nods lightly and decides to move away, giving him some space.

Hercules releases a relieved inward breath for the time he has left, but knowing this is probably the last chance he's given. Just then, his eyes finally fall upon Raymond entering from the garden. The receptionist then, reaches the first pair of keys, where one unmistakably belongs to Leon. The action signals that things are proceeding as planned.

With a prudent glance towards the elevator, Hercules watches as Raymond presses the button for the underground floor. As soon as the doors close, he discreetly activates his earpiece. "The virus is getting to the spawn."

"Roger. Everyone discreetly abandon your posts and meet close to the exit of the parking lot."

Removing his finger from the earpiece, Hercules turns around, catching the receptionist eyeing him suspiciously now. He tries to diffuse the tension with an awkward chuckle, his hands falling casually to his sides.

"Heh...this is what happens when you have idiots for friends, huh?" he quips, attempting to brush it off as he walks backward towards the exit. Once he reaches the exit, he strides away.

--

The elevator pings before the doors open and Raymond cautiously steps out, his hands clutching against the familiar keys. However, he doesn't find at the entrance the other valet, and he gets the same discomforting sensation that someone's after him.

"Alan?!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the eerily empty parking lot. met with no response. He convinces himself it's just his imagination playing tricks on him. No one else could be after him. It must be his God.

Sighing, he looks down at the car keys in his hand. "Car number 4..." he murmurs looking around the four unparked cars. A silver-grey Toyota is steadfast with the specific number that matches the key, parked beside the black van.

Raymond begins to walk up towards the specific car. His quiet steps reverberate inside until he reaches the driver's seat. The moment the key enters the keyhole of the car...

"Raymond Carson?" A deep, gruff voice cuts through the silence, making Raymond freeze. His eyes widen in shock, fear paralyzing him as he hesitates to turn around and face the person who just exposed his identity. "Put those hands up nice and slow, you motherfucker." The same voice demands with cold authority.

Raymond does as he's told, raising his hands slowly, before turning around to find no one else...other than Carlos and Luis stand there, both their guns aimed right at him.

Carson is captured. Surprisingly, everything went according to plan. Chris' strategy has brought success...

The moment Raymond locks into eye contact with Carlos, Carlos can notice a subtle change in Raymond. No, he didn't grow grey, or got fat or skinny, but how pale he looks, the dark circles under his eyes, the terror in his face.

"You..." Raymond's voice trails, shifting his gaze from Carlos to Luis.

"Yeah, you exactly know who we are, don't you, Raymond?" Carlos taunts, his gun unwaveringly pointed at Raymond.

"You're still working for them...?" Raymond's voice is barely a whisper, trembling with fear.

"None of your damn business who we work for," Carlos snaps coldly, Luis standing beside him with his pistol also still aimed at Raymond. "We spent too much time on your ass. You see that van over there?" Carlos nods toward the black van parked just behind Leon's car. "You're gonna get in there, nice and civilized, and you're gonna come with us. You got some questions to answer."

Raymond shakes his head in fear, as the realization dawns upon him. "I'm no longer free from moral guilt...the past still haunts me..." he rasps, sinking down on his knees in resignation. Carlos frowns, taking a step back with Luis, stunned by the sudden breakdown. "Angel of God...my guardian dear...to whom God's love commits me here..."

"The fuck?..." Carlos murmurs, momentarily lowering his rifle. Luis follows suit, slowly lowering his revolver, both of them completely lost at what's going on. "Luis, get to the car and call the others. He doesn't seem right in his mind," Carlos orders, his weapon moving back to aim at the virologist, who continues mumbling his prayers.

Raymond's body rocks weakly, his voice a low murmur. Suddenly, the lights of the parking lot go out, flooding the area into darkness. Carlos curses under his breath, addressing Luis much firmer, "Goddamnit Luis! Call the others!"

Raymond's widened gaze snaps back at the duo, his hands still lifted up. "Kill me...Don't take me to him...He's not gonna inject me..he won't let you survive. He's next... she's next..."

"You're coming with us, crazy asshole!"

--

Your head snaps at the ceiling the moment the bathroom suddenly plunges into darkness. Outside, gasps of surprise and confusion echo through the restaurant. You know the sudden blackout is undoubtedly caused by Piers and Chris, and it makes you wonder why they retreated to their original plan despite Chris's earlier decision to pursue a different approach.

Without overthinking it, you use one hand for guidance, gently your palm onto the wall, leading you outside of the bathroom. Your objective now is to reunite with Leon, or at least any member of the team so you can make your exit.

You begin to make your way back towards the hotel's bar. Or you try to with all this darkness that suddenly consumed you. With your other hand, you secure your purse against your hip and use the moon's light that radiates from outside as the only source of light in the now dark hotel. Murmurs of concerned guests resonate while you navigate through the hallway.

Finally, after attempts to find the bar, you reach the entrance of the restaurant, your eyes desperately trying to locate Leon from his figure. You take the first step inside-

*Gunshots*

Your steps freeze instantly at the sound of two exact sharp gunshots echoing through the hotel...and only a second after the sudden blast, the place turns into a chaotic mess, with the tenants screams of panic spreading like wildfire.

In that moment, Hotel Hilton becomes a black-pitched maze of fear and horror. Guards spread around the area as the guests and tenants rush like a herd to every possible light that indicates the exit. The staff on the other hand, attempts to calm everyone. "Please, stay calm and follow us to the nearest exit!"

Amidst the crazy disarray, you desperately try to spot Leon, who now has disappeared like smoke from your point of view.

"(y/n), where are yo-" you hear Leon's voice echoing from your earpiece.

"I'm right outside the bar," you manage to say. However, his voice begins to crackle in gibberish, unable to understand what he's saying. "Leon?" you call out in response, but the connection deteriorates into static, mixing with small snippets of voices from Luis, barely understandable.

"arking.....t...!"

"ot....!"

Parking lot. They must be down there. You think to yourself, and deciding to take immediate action, you blend purposefully with the crowd that leads you to the exit, in order to sneak down to the parking lot.

Reaching the reception, you find other tenants running to the exit. Seizing the opportunity, you slide stealthily in between the stairs that lead to the underground parking lot, next to the elevators. Amidst this whole mess, you manage to luckily go unnoticed from the guards.

----

10:41 P.M.

Instead, the rest of the team is outside of the building. It has now been two tense minutes since everyone was hurriedly evacuated to safety and Leon's eyes remain pinned at the hotel's entrance, his gaze betraying his anxiety, while the rest of the team frantically tries to reach Carlos and Luis. Outside, the security has blocked the entrance to freely investigate the origin of the gunshots and the blackout.

"Luis...LUIS!" Piers tries to reach the missing biologist through the earpiece. Hercules idle on his side. Claire stands nearby, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold air and light rain that began to dampen everyone's bodies. There's that look on her face, filled with equal concern that catches Leon's attention.

"I can't get through to either of them," Piers says, releasing his hand.

Exhaling sharply Chris shakes his head "Fuck!" he curses, flicking the cigarette with force.

All they can hope is for the missing trio to be safe.

--

Entering the parking lot, you find yourself stand steadfast as you take a look around the unlit surroundings. It's an eerie scenery, seeing the huge interior parking lot lay in total darkness, filled with cars..and unaware of whether someone's with you or not.

Advancing carefully inside, you scan whatever your sight can catch through the dim lights from the patrols outside and the moon. Right above you, you can still hear the muffled voices of the concerned guests.

Finally, you reach the specific spot you've entered with Leon to park the car...the van's skin glistening from afar.

Suddenly, a loud, radiating buzz reverberates through the parking lot as the lights flicker back on, casting a harsh yellow glow that forces you to shield your eyes. However, the moment your vision adjusts and become fully aware of your surroundings, you are met with a devastating sight that makes your heart nearly stop: Luis and Carlos lying on the floor, and not a single sign of Umbrella's virologist. Luis seems to be shot in his leg, while Carlos' appears to be in a worse as his bloody hand is clutched against his chest. Carlos lies close to their car, and Luis next to one of the exits of the parking lot, their weapons scattered away from their forms.

"Oh my god..." you whisper with widened eyes. "Carlos! Luis!"

Without hesitation, you rush to Carlos' side first, dropping to your knees beside him. Blood already has pooled on the concrete despite his attempt to stop the flow with his hand. Acting on pure nurse instinct, you fumble in the small purse on your lap, desperately searching for gauze to control the bleeding.

Carlos' painful grunts break your heart, seeing him suffer like this. Beads of sweat trickle down his furrowed brow as he clutches his chest, his face contorted in pain.

"You're okay now," you whisper in a shaky voice as your trembling fingers finally reach for the gauze and the small flashlight. Turning slightly to Luis, you raise your voice to address both injured men. "Just take a deep breath, both of you, okay?" you advise, trying to project a calmness that you surely are far from feeling at that moment.

-

"Please...Don't let me die...Not like this,"

-

The unlucky mother's voice echoes in your mind once again, only to be drowned by Luis' howls of pain, holding tightly onto his leg, your words barely register to him. You can't let either of them die.

With the sudden determination, you gently pry his hands away from his chest. With swift movements, you loosen his tie and unbutton hurriedly his grey shirt. The moment the fatal wound is exposed, you waste no time in applying pressure and the area to staunch the bleeding.

While you do all that, you can't get your mind to understand - connect the dots. How did this happen so suddenly?...

"Son of a bitch..." Carlos curses through clenched teeth, his eyes screwed shut in pain and agony.

"It hurts I know," you murmur soothingly, your fingers pressing down his forehead, urging him to remain laid on the floor.

"Senorita..." Luis weakly calls out, hissing from the equal pain. It breaks you completely not being able to help them at the same time.

Where is Hercules when you need him?

"I'll be right there, Luis! One second, and I promise I'll look after you," turning your head, you instruct Luis to start taking actions of his own. "Take off your jacket, tie it around the wound, and press firmly on the spot you're shot."

With clumsy movements, Luis slowly sits up, following your directions. The amount of blood he's losing is just as alarming.

But you need to relax. They need you. Try to relax. Relax...

"It's gonna be alright, don't worry," you assure Carlos trying to convince yourself as much as him.

"Shit!" Suddenly, you hear Leon's voice at the entry of the parking lot. The moment he enters the parking lot, his mouth slightly dropped as he lowers his gun at the sight. Though, a wave of small relief washes over you. At least you're no longer alone in this nightmare.

Noticing you tending to Carlos, Leon rushes to Luis' side, holstering his weapon. "What the hell happened here?" you can hear him demand urgently, tightening the makeshift bandage around Luis' wound.

"Carson lost it. Shot Carlos... tried to kill me. I ran, but... he got my leg," Luis briefly explains the situation, wincing in pain. His tired gaze finds you and Carlos in concern. "Go to Carlos...I'll manage."

Leon glances back at you for a hesitant moment, until he rushes to your side, reaching for his earpiece as you tend Carlos' wound.

"Piers, get to the parking lot with Hercules. Carlos and Luis are down." he calls out on his earpiers to then shift to Carlos as he gently supports the back of his head. "Hang in there, Carlos. You're gonna be alright."

Carlos only swallows thickly and shakes weakly his head. "He got away..."

"Carson?" Leon probes, seeking for more clarification.

Carlos doesn't respond to the question, his jaw clenching weakly. "Fucking asshole..." he gruffly grunts, his face growing paler.

Your palms remained pressed firmly against the gauze covering Carlos' wound, desperately trying to stem the blood flow. Meanwhile, Leon attempts to keep Carlos focused. "Don't spend your breath on it right now. Focus on staying with us."

But despite Leon's attempts to calm Carlos, he seems oblivious to both your efforts and words. His eyelids flutter weakly as his breathing becomes more labored. "Listen...to me. Don't... don't do it..."

You and Leon frown slightly, hearing still Luis's soft grunts in the background.

"Do what?" Leon asks.

Words grow heavier. Carlos struggles to form the words, each syllable becomes a huge effort. "... don't...fucking...trust h-h..."

Leon looks at Carlos, both of you in waiting breath to hear what he is trying to say.

But fate has other plans...

With a final, soft exhale, Carlos' face r, eyes facing the ceiling, and you see the life being drawn away from his gaze. Shivers run down your spin as your face drops. You and Leon look at each other as now you can clearly hear the muffled chaos above.

Leon presses two fingers against Carlos' neck, searching for a pulse. His face falls, and he turns to meet your eyes, confirming the grim news.

"He's dead."

----