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Tie the Noose Chapter 26
Rebecca sighed quietly to herself as she shifted through the next file, digging through a years-old case that had gone exactly nowhere, one of dozens that she’d been slowly going through in her free time after her shift, and one more that made about as much sense as anything in the circus the RPD joking called recordkeeping. It had felt like a pointless effort, at least at first, something that had caught her attention as not feeling quite right and gave her an excuse to put off dealing with the myriad of other issues in her life. The whole clusterfuck that had happened with Danny and Kevin at the Kendo range. Because as God as her witness, when she got the call to go down there, hearing that Danny had gotten into it with Kevin, who was no slouch in the ring, her heart all but stopped.
Granted, she had been expecting Danny to be the one being hauled out in a stretcher. It wasn’t a dig at him, he was in great shape, and he was surprisingly slippery when he wanted to be, but Kevin had been boxing for almost a decade, and that was before you took into account his academy training in takedowns and restraints. Which was why she was shocked to hear that Danny had disassembled the man, straight from Barry’s mouth, even as she fussed over his bruised cheekbone. Apparently Kevin had gotten him full on with one of his signature haymakers, but somehow her boyfriend had not only taken the hit, quite literally on the chin, but he’d managed to counter Ryman with a boneshattering reversal.
She wasn’t quite sure what to think about that, about her Danny stopping Kevin, drunk or not, as hard and as fast as she did. She would be forever grateful to Captain Wesker for pulling her aside the next day to show her the tapes in his office. She technically wasn’t supposed to see them, but Danny had been recalcitrant after everything, borderline hostile to the on-scene officers and actively hostile to Barry, which she had no idea what that was about, because Barry was also playing mum to whatever they’d almost come to blows over. It was a whole huge mess, and the tapes had been terrible to see, between him and Barry, and then him and Kevin after Barry tried to deescalate.
She was going to have words with that man, as well, and Barry knew it from the look she shot him that night. Unsurprisingly the STARS armorer was conspicuously busy the last week checking over the new P90s that the Captain brought in. Despite having cleared them several days ago. She knew the game well, but that was just one of a number of problems. Kevin had unceremoniously resigned a week ago, in the midst of the IA investigation, and she’d heard neither hide nor hair of him since.
All the better. For as frustrated as she was at Danny, and as pissed as she was at Barry, Kevin was someone she had found she truly despised for his part in things. Aside from what he’d insinuated about her and Danny’s sex lives, accurate or not, he’d clearly lost his damn mind over the whole thing with the Captain offering Danny a possible STARS slot. She still didn’t know why, given that Danny had zero interest in it, and had only talked about maybe joining the force as a regular Academy recruit a few times beforehand. She had thought, after the first time he came home half dead, he’d lost his taste for it, but STARS was something else.
She was annoyed at him for that. Wesker, not Danny, but she couldn’t really blame him. He was always on the lookout for talent and he and Danny were friends, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he’d offered something to her boyfriend. That said, with everything going on with Danny, she was less than enthused about the idea, and thankfully, so was he. She doubted he had any more enthusiasm for the job, whatever was left, anyway, after the incident with Ryman though.
She still had trouble believing the man had devolved so quickly since the troubling end to the dinner she threw for Thanksgiving. She’d heard the rumors, both about his leaked file and about his alcoholism, it was impossible not to, but she’d tried to ignore it. Kevin wasn’t a bad person, annoying sometimes, especially when he’d tried asking her out, and she didn’t like that he always called her Becky, despite being told not to, but those were little things. Teething issues that she’d let go because it was better for her career and her position to do so. She tolerated him, even found him okay once he started paying attention to her boundaries, but now?
Now she would be hard pressed not to break his other arm. And wasn’t that a sight to see, she thought to herself bitterly. That was the other side of the coin, wasn’t it? Watching Danny, her Danny, ruin that man with a tripartite of strikes that had flowed so perfectly she could swear it was Chris or Forest pulling them off. The damage done to Ryman’s arm would be crippling if he didn’t have access to Umbrella miracle medicine, but even then he wouldn’t be using it for the next month. She didn’t know Danny was capable of that kind of violence, and worse, it was just how fast he transitioned from her boyfriend to someone that was almost alien on the screen.
That had scared her. That scared her badly. She had dealt with Danny being… difficult, during one of his episodes. He’d never struck her, but he had flailed a few times before she got him under control. She had thought that she could handle him if she needed to, if only to keep him from doing something ill-advised during a night terror. Now she was wondering if that would always be the case. It would kill Danny if he hurt her, even by accident, and she knew that as a fact. But it didn’t make it less concerning.
Rebecca sighed as she closed the file in front of her, looking at the clock. It was almost five, and she’d been in there since two. Her mind was too scrambled to keep digging, and maybe she would take tomorrow off, go home on time and get Danny to give her a backrub. God knew, for all his troubles, the man had a pair of hands that almost made her forgive all the other stuff. He loved getting his hands on her, she loved him getting his hands on her, it was a win win. And then she went right back to thinking about the fight, and her good mood fell off. Yawning, she stretched as she pushed the seat back.
“Burning the midnight oil, Officer Chambers?” The words made her jolt as her eyes landed on the face of Chief Irons as he stood at the shelf, pulling a file off the wall for himself. “I do recall your shift being over what, three, four hours ago?”
“Ah! Ch-chief, sorry, yes sir…” She bumbled as she moved to stand, almost catching her feet under her chair.
“Relax, Chambers. I’m glad to see one of our officers taking an interest in her off hours.” He chuckled in that slightly high-pitched way he did. “Though it begs to wonder why you’re wasting your time on this mess. Cold cases, mostly, or just complaints without enough to justify the cost of investigating. Something catch your eye?”
The question was innocuous enough, but something about the tone made her feel a bit ill at ease, as the man who outmassed her by double walked over and lifted up one of her files. She felt a bit cornered, really, boxed in, close enough to see his ever-present patina of sweat, to smell the stale coffee and cigarettes on him, even though she knew he didn’t mean anything by it.
“Just brushing up on my history, Chief. Seeing how things are handled while doing a little research. It helps to understand why some of the policies are the way they are, sir.” She said, and he nodded, humming at that.
“I see. Well, I hope you found some of these relics to be illuminating, Officer. Bunch of tragedies, really, but nothing to be done about it.” He sighed dramatically. “If you ever find yourself in another police department, you’ll find that’s distressingly common. Lots of cold cases, lots of unsolved crimes.”
“I understand, sir. I just found it an interesting diversion.” She said, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She reached down to grab some of the files, having slipped a couple into her bag when his back was turned, but Irons stopped her.
“I’m glad you do, Officer. It’s good for the soul, and the career, not to get too caught up in these old things.” Irons smiled, and Rebecca smiled back, “Go home and get some rest, Chambers. I’ll clean this up.”
“Of course sir, I appreciate it.” She said, as she slipped out of the room, and as Irons watched her, the calm, relatively relaxed mien of his demeanor faded. Glancing down, he sheafed through the handful of files, before taking them and tossing them into a box. The station was empty enough that nobody was there to see him walk them out of the room, and down to the incinerator. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, he felt.
Still, his mind drifted to Rebecca, and what she’d been up to. He’d need to watch her. She wasn’t the first officer to get ideas about looking at some of the old cold cases and wondering just what was going on with them. Despite all of the work he’d put into making some things go away, someone always wanted to pick at the bones left buried. She was smart enough to know how a warning was a warning, though, and she seemed to get it. It would be a shame to torpedo someone so promising, and Wesker would throw a fit, but if she became an issue, he would… solve it.
Meanwhile, as Rebecca made her way out of the department, she couldn’t help but keep tossing the strange encounter with Irons over in her mind. She doubted she would find those files again, and she had gotten too comfortable besides, letting the Chief sneak up on her like that. She could have kicked herself for that, but the cryptic warning he’d given her was enough to send her packing all its own. She’d need to be more careful poking around at things. She was starting to suspect something was up, and she didn’t like how the pieces were coming together.
Danny had talked to her about conspiracies, had been paranoid about them, and she wondered if he wasn’t onto something, be it mundane corruption in the precinct, or something else, she couldn’t say, but… there were a lot of pieces on the table to put together. She hadn’t forgotten what Barry had told her either, regardless of her feelings, and now this? She would figure it out, find the truth, whatever it was, and when she did… well, she would do something. That was for sure. Just what that was was a problem for later.
For now, she would take the couple of files she’d managed to hide home, and maybe find something worth seeing in them. Step one was finding if there was even something to find, and the rest could come later.
000
Jill Valentine wasn’t having a good day. Or a good week. Or a good month? It’s been a shitty winter all around, and she was having none of it. Granted, she had a lot on her plate, between work and this latest drama with her friends, all of her friends, because of course it was all of them, and how it was making for a particularly nasty tangle of issues that she had no idea how to address. Between Daniel and Rebecca, Chris and Kevin, and whatever Barry was dealing with, it felt like her social life was a madhouse.
She was not equipped for this. Kevin, the dumb fuck, had gotten sloshed after bombing out of the latest STARS tryouts, which was only compounded by some prick spreading shit about him all over the station in the interim, which sent him spiralling again. He’d been doing so well too, at fourteen months sober. If she ever found out who was behind the suspiciously timed leaks, someone was getting the full length of her boot up their ass for the trouble, and then she’d make them clean it off after kicking their teeth out.
That had been enough to wind him up, and he had been, if not friends, at least okay with Daniel. But then Wesker had to stir the pot, and she couldn’t even be mad at him for it. Recruitment was his job, or at least part of it, as the lead of Alpha and the face of STARS. Granted his timing was kinda shit, but the man wasn’t perfect, even if he liked to project that to keep morale up. She could forgive him that, though, as it wasn’t his responsibility to keep Kevin from going off the deep end. Still didn’t fix things.
It was over a week later and the shockwaves were still being felt, between the loss of Ryman after his inglorious dismissal, the reorganization of the traffic division to cover his loss, and Irons proceeding to chew out literally everyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path lately, tensions were high. Ha, that was an understatement of the century. More like people were imploding under the Christmas load, as crime always skyrocketed around this time of year. Mostly thefts, but other felonies were exploding, including a weird case of bodies coming up chewed on. Cannibal murders of the homeless were one of those unwelcome cyclical patterns that cropped up every year for the last two or three. Not a lot, two or three bodies, mostly bums, before whoever was behind it vanished. Someone getting their Christmas Feast on or something equally macabre.
Of course Chris took the whole thing incredibly personally, and went off to confront Kevin only to find he was gone. His apartment had been cleared out, and his car was missing. No idea what happened there, but Jill wasn’t surprised, neither at Chris going off like that, or Kevin clearing out like he did. Chris was a sensitive person, and took anything that tasted like betrayal incredibly personally. Something about his family turning their backs on him and Claire as the unwanted sheep, the kids of the “other woman” who married their golden boy and when his parents died suddenly in a car accident, well… let her just say that they left the two out in the cold and leave it at that. He was still trying to get ahold of Kevin, and Forest had joined him, but Jill doubted it would go anywhere.
Kevin was a coward and could be a real bastard when he was deep in his bottles. She remembered rearranging his shit a couple of times when he’d gotten sloshed and handsy with her, only to come slinking back pretending nothing happened when he sobered up. Still, Chris had tried hard. She respected that. Even if she didn’t understand the drive to keep giving the ex-cop the dozen chances he’d had.
Fuck him, though. He was gone, and Chris was better off for it. He would bounce back eventually, and she would be there to back him up. They were partners, and while he might not be quite as into her as she was him, they were still friends. Nobody fucked with Jill’s friends. Especially people like Kevin Ryman. She only wished she could have taken a copy home of that vid of Danny breaking his arm like he did. She didn’t know he was a vet, and he never talked about it, but it couldn’t have been more obvious to her.
Besides, she could spot LINE a mile away, and he was definitely at high-intermediate level with those reflexes. Probably kept up with it too, if he was pulling that kinda stuff. She made a mental note to find out where he was practicing. Finding a gym or a dojo that let you use something like LINE was vanishingly rare outside of the bigger military towns and she was practiced herself. Chris too, now that she thought of it. As well as most of the other members of STARS now that she thought of it.
Maybe… not right now though. Given how he was feeling about the badge right now. Rebecca hadn’t said anything, not really, but she’d made it clear that Daniel wasn’t particularly pleased with the RPD. The Captain was apparently planning to stop over there and try and smooth some ruffled feathers, and she wished him luck, but if anything was going to save the RPD from an embarrassing scandal she figured it would be Rebecca. Still, she hoped he got a decent paycheck for it. It was still pretty terrible.
Though speaking of terrible, she’d asked Barry again as to what had him and Danny in each other’s faces. Whatever it was was messy, enough that the two hadn’t spoken since, and from what she had been able to glean, Barry was being extra cagey about it. He hadn’t wanted to talk the first time, and hadn’t wanted to any time after that, even though it was an open secret that within their little circle, he and Daniel had had a falling out. The camera recording didn’t have audio and what had been said was kept under wraps, unlike the slowly expanding pool who saw the tape.
“I just don’t think it’s my place to talk about it,” Barry had said, “It was between me and him.” Which was the excuse he’d given every time it came up.
Rebecca hadn’t had any idea, or so she claimed, but as much as Jill loved the girl, she couldn’t lie for shit. She definitely knew the gist of it, but she hadn’t been looking to talk, and Jill could respect that. Becca was a little chatterbox when it came to a lot of things, being the most sociable of her squad and Jill’s unspoken apprentice. That said, she was shockingly closed lipped about anything going on with her beau, and that was that.
“Fuck me.” Jill sighed, as she watched her breath mist into the air staring up at the clear winter sky. Her old man had always said that the holidays were a crucible, where the pressure turned up as everyone started buckling down for the season. He had been a middle manager at some company she didn’t remember, and he’d always been right about that kinda thing. Most relationships went to shit in the winter for a reason, and the thing between Daniel and Kevin was the perfect example. Hopefully Becca could brave whatever might be coming her way.
And of course, there she was, odd woman out. Despite all the drama, she kinda wished she had someone all her own to have something going on with. It was weird to think about, given her track record, but having someone to hold on the cold nights would be nice. She could freely admit to being jealous of Becca sometimes. Her bits were drying up and no amount of random trysts would fix that. She was twenty-three for Christ’s sake! She should have had her shit together more than she did.
And that was the trouble, wasn’t it? She’d chased her last boyfriend off with her lets-go-no-quit personality, and she hadn’t found anyone good enough (or desperate enough) to fill that hole. Or any hole. It didn’t help that her work-life was basically all-consuming, but that felt like an excuse given Rebecca’s everything. Maybe she should give Chris another hint. Or strip naked and pin him to his desk or something. Or… or do nothing, chicken out, and hide in her apartment watching the idiot box for another night.
She really needed a hobby.
Maybe she should take Rebecca up on her offer to come over for dinner one of these nights. She could find out how Daniel was holding up, or something. She needed to do some Christmas shopping too, and while getting that triple-extra-large box of condoms for Rebecca would be hilarious, she did need to get some stuff too. So that’s what she did, all the while pretending like she wasn’t trying to avoid even the semblance of a social life. Or acknowledging how fucking lonely it was to do all her stuff solo. Damn it.
Screw the holidays.
000
Wesker sighed as he adjusted his tie, having actually taken the time to dress up in a suit for this particular meeting, one he was certain would be, if nothing else, interesting. He’d been waiting for the green light, to go make the offer on the RPD’s behalf while the lawyers and aides made sure they weren’t shooting themselves in the foot to do so. Irons had also told him to try and keep the offer under five digits. That made Albert mentally scoff, as if Daniel would listen to anything under six, if Wesker’s read on him was right.
And Wesker was nothing else if not good at reading people. Besides, Wesker fully intended to give him the whole hog, as it were. It sent a message that the blonde man was in his corner, and anything that gave him more of an in with the bearded man was a gift. It would also engender a bit of good will mixed in, and achieving several goals at once was a specialty of his. He still had no idea what Daniel’s game was, given how he interacted with the others, seeming to be all over the place, but that was what made it intriguing. The man clearly had an end goal, and whatever that was would only become clear once he reached the end of his setup.
Albert was happy to let him keep at it. Daniel was clever in his own ways, and it was clear he had some kind of problem with a number of people, but where others might see him floundering, Wesker thought it rather clever. He still had no idea what his issue was with Burton, or rather, what Burton’s issue with him was. When Wesker had asked, the burly armorer was more evasive than Albert had ever seen him. It was legitimately interesting to see Burton show the depths he did, and made Albert reassess the man from what he’d originally written him off as.
Having a more accurate picture of how Barry thought was just a small addon that the whole confrontation with Daniel had bought him. The more he knew, the more accurately he could model the man, in case he ever needed to take… actions, of one kind or another. Albert already had him marked out as the most vulnerable of his STARS to blackmail and coercion, but knowing that the man wasn’t the open book he expected changed how much he could trust Burton to act in a certain way when pressure was applied.
If he needed to. If. The thought brought a smile to his face. Nothing ever worked so perfectly in the real world, plans or otherwise. Still, that was what it was, and he had little enough concern about that in the immediate future. Burton, Redfield, Valentine, many of the others as well, all of them were, at best, tools to be used, and then discarded when they were no longer needed. He hated dealing with the foibles of those he deemed as lesser, but that was the way the game was played. Not everyone could be the mastermind he was, and if they were, well, what was the old saying? When everyone is special, nobody is? Yes, that sounded right. He didn’t remember where he heard it, but it was the depressing truth.
When all was said and done he would be on top, of course, but it was a lonely existence at the peak of the mountain. He missed his wayward siblings in this regard, because of anyone, they were the ones who he could truly call his peers. But that was neither here nor there. He could lament the loss of the others, even if they were less perfect than he, as they were still his brothers and sisters and a cut above the rest regardless. He gave an ugly sneer as he thought about Dr. Wesker, their nominal ‘father’, if only for his place at the head of the project. The hack that he was, anyway.
Sighing, he took that frustration and pushed it away. He had other concerns, and getting lost in the past wasn’t going to help.
He arrived at the door of Daniel’s apartment precisely on time, as was his wont. He had timed it carefully, knowing Rebecca wasn’t around, hoping to gauge the man separately. He changed his approach, Wesker had seen, when she was around. Catered to her, picking his words with care and his features kept at a pleasant neutral while doing it. Wesker honestly wondered what it would be like to see him without the need for those pretenses. He hoped to be impressed, to see a glimpse behind the innocuous mask that Daniel Carter had worn so well it was almost his real face.
He rapped on the door, three times, precise and swift, and waited. A moment later he was face to face with Daniel, and he almost grinned when he saw the slight narrow of his eyes, the barest sign that he recognized the same mask Wesker wore, the vague, banal neutrality that both knew were a facade.
“Daniel, I’m glad to see you up and about.” Wesker began, smiling. Daniel didn’t return it, but that was fine. It was still opening moves, after all. “I was hoping to speak to you about the… incident last week. May I come in?”
Daniel paused at the door, and for a moment, Albert wondered if the answer to that was a no, but a moment later he stepped back. Wesker strode in, noticing, to his approval, the tight utilitarian nature of Daniel’s apartment. The organized weight set, the minimalist decoration, the clean kitchen and general spotlessness of the living area, as if he barely resided there at all. It reminded him too much of his own apartment. Comfortable, in a word.
“You have a lovely apartment.” He said, casually, as he slipped his coat off, setting it on the rack. Daniel slipped around him, towards the kitchen.
“Thank you, Albert. Coffee?” Daniel asked, as he pulled a mug from the cabinet. Albert spotted a flash of steel under the shirt, and fought to keep the look of recognition off his face. He also noticed how Daniel didn’t quite turn his back on him at any point, and it was rather vindicating to be seen for what he was. Another point to the man, Albert mused.
“Please.” Albert said, relaxing into one of the chairs in the kitchen, and he caught how Daniel’s eye slipped lower, just a bit, to spot the edge of his own pistol, under the suit coat. Good, now that they both knew where they stood, the two could talk.
“I was expecting you to come by, sooner or later.” Daniel said as he poured a rather rich, flavorful blend into both cups. “Sugar, cream?” He asked, and Albert shook his head. Sitting down, Daniel found a spot across from him, and their eyes met.
“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint, then.” He sipped at the coffee, and found it rather good. “Mmm, I like this,” He hummed. “I’ll need to get the blend, once we finish.”
“Once we finish, yeah.” Daniel said with a level of forced casualness that Wesker barely picked up on. He would have missed it, had he not been looking. Curiouser and curiouser, Mr. Carter.
“I’ll be frank, Daniel. The RPD is looking to deal with things… quietly, after the mess with Mr. Ryman, who you may be pleased to hear, has been removed from the Force.” Albert opened, and leaned back. “I understand you may be hesitant, given the infringement on your civil rights, but I’m hoping we might come to an agreement about the matter, you and I.”
“Oh?” Daniel pondered, as he watched Wesker in turn, “Do you think something like that would be in my best interest, Albert?” The barbs were hidden under the almost velvet tone. Wesker didn’t fight the small grin on his face as he casually waved a hand.
“For us, or for you, Daniel? Because the answer, like all things, varies.” Wesker said, lightly. “It does behoove us to make this go away. Politics, you understand. It’s not good for the RPD to have too many eyes on them right now, given the fact that we’re going into an electoral year. Which is why I’ve been authorized to make a rather… substantial offer.”
“Substantial, huh?” He hummed, and seemed to think about it. “And what are we talking about here? A few grand to make me keep my mouth shut about this whole thing?”
“Hardly. You underestimate how much Irons and the Mayor wish to make this like it never happened.” And then Albert leaned forward a bit, looking at Daniel over his sunglasses. “And betwixt you and I? You should take them for all you can. This was a gross miscarriage of justice, as it was.”
“I… see.” Daniel hummed as the two sipped at their coffee. Wesker could almost see the gears turning in Daniel’s head, the unexpectedness of Albert’s willingness to fuck his own nominal boss over was something he hadn’t expected. It was a calculated ploy on Wesker’s part, but he knew Daniel was likely aware of that, too. He’d always planned to position himself as a nominal ally, after all.
“It’s a good offer, one I have the full backing of the people in charge to sign off on. There’s even a bit of wiggle room, if you proved… Obstinate.” Wesker chuckled, drawing a closed look from Daniel. Gone was the casual mask, replaced with something harder and more calculating. For a moment, Albert almost let himself be caught up in it, this glance behind the mask Daniel wore, to see the man under it, but just as quickly as it came, he realized that that too was a shield.
“I find myself wondering exactly what you get out of this Albert.” He said, finally, casually, almost relaxed, even though he was anything but. “It sounds like you really mean that, but I can’t help but wonder what you’re hoping to get from me. Besides the obvious, anyway.”
Wesker smiled, and for once, it wasn’t the hidden, secret smile he often let others peek at. No, this was the man under the mask, just for a moment, a reward for Daniel to see that he’d scored a point. “I have to admit,” He began, “That there is a bit of schadenfreude involved, but, did you know that Chief Irons has been pushing for a major remodel of the statue gallery in the station?”
“No…?” Daniel wondered, a bit thrown at the change in direction. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, let's just say a sudden, unreasonable increase in the Department’s insurance premiums means that his plans are going to be derailed. Again. No room in the budget, you see.” Of course, it wasn’t just about tweaking the fat man’s nose, but Daniel had no way to know that. Gutting the budget tightened all the purse strings, meaning Irons would have a harder time playing his little games obfuscating things, turning up the pressure and making him… sloppy. The man was already flailing trying to keep his own excesses under wraps, not to mention the frankly amateurish job he was doing covering up the various issues that had been cropping up.
“And what, you want to fuck with him? That’s it?” Daniel’s tone said he believed it was anything but, “Feel like I’d be setting myself up in the long term, Albert. I don’t need the Chief of Police to have a reason to pull out the thumb screws on me. Or on Rebecca.” He added, with a sharp look towards Wesker.
“Ah, you misunderstand me, Daniel. I apologise.” He laughed, and the unimpressed look Daniel shot him had him holding his hands up. “I swear it isn’t something so banal. You underestimate just how unpopular these renovations have been over the years. Between the constant moving of offices and the slowdown of critical infrastructure work, the RPD had been a mess of backlog projects. Putting Irons in a position where he has to put off or even cancel those projects will do nothing but earn you good will.”
“Just like getting Ryman fired did, I’m sure.” Daniel snarked, “What I said stands, though. I don;t want Rebecca catching flak for this. I don’t, either, but she’s more the priority. As you well know.”
“You overestimate Ryman’s popularity, given some recent revelations about him. But I understand your concerns. You aren’t responsible for it, either, and she’s directly under my command anyway. Irons knows that his influence on STARS is tenuous right now.” Wesker said with a helpless look. “Besides, he gets what he wants with your silence, you get a nice check, and everyone goes home happy. Irons would have nothing to complain about.”
“Mmmhmm. And if I wanted a piece of Kevin for his part in it?” Daniel asked, though Wesker could already see that this was just perfunctory. It was good to see that Daniel understood things as they were.
“You can, if you can find the man. He was let go from the Force unceremoniously and I have it on good authority that he’s left the city entirely. Who knows where he might turn up.” Wesker shrugged, and Daniel sighed. With a grin, Wesker pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket, enjoying the slight, wary tension that grabbed the man across from him as his hand brushed perilously close to his pistol.
“Now, let me show you what I was asked to offer, and just how much you can get in reality, and we can put this whole ugly business behind us.”
In the end Daniel had signed the NDAs and agreements not to sue or pursue charges, in exchange for a settlement that had his eyes narrowed in suspicion at how good it was. Wesker had a feeling he had been expecting something like this though, in the end. He didn't have the time or the desire for the increased scrutiny a lawsuit would bring, and nobody wanted to involve the lawyers more than they absolutely had to.
Or so he’d said, anyway. In the end the rather juicy check Wesker had cut Daniel had been, if nothing else, illuminating. Both knew that this was a payoff for the man’s silence, but Daniel was fine with it. He’d been expecting something like this, and he was wise enough to know that it was better to sip from the poison chalice than to be drowned from it. So Wesker left, and a few hours later Rebecca returned home, and Daniel had to admit, it was a little amusing springing it on her.
“Captain Wesker offered WHAT!?”
000
Christmas came, and Christmas went, and Rebecca was… conflicted. She’d spent the holiday with Danny, foregoing her original idea of doing another big dinner, given how the last one went. The two had spent most of the day cuddling, and most of the night doing… other things, but that was neither here nor there. On New Year's Eve she and Danny had found themselves over at Chris’s house, dancing, celebrating, and, since nobody asked, enjoying some champagne on the rollover of the clock. It was nice, just detaching from the stress of everything going on around her.
On the upside she finally got to meet the mysterious sister that Chris was so proud of, which was fun. The two were about the same age and while Jill was… weird about her, Rebecca had found out that she’d offered to let Claire stay at her place for the winter break. She found she liked the rambunctious redhead, who seemed genuinely heartbroken that Rebecca was taken, but that was the fun of the evening speaking. As it was, it was a good holiday season. Danny had gotten her some very cute jewellery, as well as a few other things that were more of a gift for him, but she enjoyed them anyway, and the two had managed to avoid any of the troubles that had seemed to infest the end of the year.
Kevin Ryman was well and truly gone, both figuratively and literally, and while she’d had reservations about the Captain coming to Danny without her being there, when she confronted him about it he was nothing if not apologetic. Irons had apparently been crawling down his throat to make things go away, and Wesker had done his best to offer Danny a real payout for the trouble. Rebecca didn’t blame Danny for forgoing the lawyers and taking the hefty settlement check, but the whole thing felt slimy to her nonetheless.But that was how things were done, according to the Captain, and she had no reason not to believe him.
He’d always been straight with her, and as supportive as Jill was, in a number of ways. She had known that sometimes things weren’t totally on the up and up, and she’d started to suspect that there was a real issue in the RPD. She had been right in assuming those files were gone the next time she’d taken a quick peek, and she hadn’t been willing to risk staying around with Irons prowling through the station. She also suspected that the sudden influx of ‘community outreach’ programs Irons had recommended her for had a lot to do with taking up her free time.
She had also been trying to mend fences between him and Barry, to limited success. Danny had been avoiding the club and the range since the incident, and while she had been pissed at Barry initially for his part in the whole blowup, he’d admitted that he’d mishandled things and let his concerns override his common sense. Rebecca had been willing to accept that, still not sure how to handle the strange blanks in her boyfriend’s past, but at the same time was willing to let sleeping dogs lay while she did her own digging.
Danny had been less receptive, though. She hadn’t ever seen this stubborn streak in him before, but it reared its ugly head when she’d tried broaching the topic. There wasn’t much to be said, so he told her, and asked her not to worry. He would deal with things with Barry when he was ready, whatever that meant. That was the problem, though. He was recalcitrant on the best of days, and while never outright hostile, she could tell it was starting to annoy him when she brought it up.
Which was how she found herself sitting at the same bar Chris and Jill frequented, nursing a soda while the two older STARS listened to her complain.
“And it’s not like I can even blame Danny. I don’t know what got into Barry’s head that confronting him head on with his concerns was the right move. I care about him, but Danny is… difficult, when it comes to that kind of thing. He digs his feet in when he’s pushed, and that’s… I just don’t know what to think of it.” Rebecca finished. Chris shared a look with Jill, and the two leaned in and talked amongst themselves for a moment. Rebecca shot them a slightly annoyed look at the secrecy. “I’m still here, you know?”
“I know, I know.” Jill sighed, as she leaned back. “I know you don’t want to talk about whatever it was that had Barry diving in like this, but you have to admit, it doesn’t sound like him. The guy I know is careful to a fault, Becca.”
“Yeah, it’s really out of character for Barry to go off like that. I really wish you could give us more to go off of.” Chris added. “Nobody was expecting Kevin to go off like he did, but I saw the video, and that was a square up. If he hadn’t shown up then I’m wondering if we’d be talking about a different fight right now.”
“That’s not fair, Chris. Danny isn’t like that. You know him. He wouldn’t have gotten into it with Barry like that.” The words felt hollow out of Rebecca’s mouth, though. Still, she tried. “I know I’ve mentioned it, but Danny is going through some real stuff right now. I don’t know a lot about it but I’m getting worried. He’s usually a lot more open with me.”
“Hey, I’m not saying the guy would go off like he did on Ryman,” Chris grunted, “But whatever was said really set him off. Even if Barry’s willing to apologize, guys have their pride, you know? Danny could well be right there looking to ease things over, but he’s hung up on not giving the inch he needs to make it work.”
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” Rebecca asked, looking into the fizzing bubbles of her drink. “Danny’s always been so patient with me, and I know I can be a trip sometimes. It feels… wrong that he’s so caught up with Barry.”
“To be fair, he’s also sleeping with you.” Jill chimed in, and Rebecca’s head shot up, her mouth opening up to retort, but Jill cut her off. “I’m just saying. Look, Dan is a good guy, and Barry is too, but they’re both from a different time. In my experience older guys are just more stubborn about things, especially when it comes to saving face.”
“Yeah, she’s not wrong, Rebecca. My dad was like that, before he passed. I loved him to pieces, but if he got his hackles up poking him about whatever it was just got him to snap at you. People like him need time to process things.” Chris said, sipping his beer. “I would bet Dan’s the same. He needs to talk himself around to letting it go first, and to do that he needs space.”
“You think so?” Rebecca pondered into her cup, almost to herself more than the other two. “I just… he needs his friends, now more than ever. Barry was close to him, the first person he met in town besides me that he really clicked with. I don’t like seeing it.”
“None of us do, believe me.” Jill sighed. “Barry has been a massive pain to deal with recently, between this and all the issues with those new guns and the new qualifiers that Irons is pushing on STARS he’s been jammed up. Staying late, working a lot of overtime, and you know how he hates doing that.” She finished. It was true, too. Barry had been touchy lately, in a lot of ways. He was never not civil, but he was short, especially with the other members of Alpha, and it didn’t help that Bravo still didn’t have a dedicated armorer to take up some of the slack.
“Maybe we should try the old ‘lock ‘em in a closet together’ trick.” Chris snorted, but neither woman laughed. “What? It worked when me and my sister would get into it as kids. It’s not like they’re gonna kill each other. Both of them are grown men. They could handle a little pow wow.”
“I hate to say it but I’m almost tempted to agree with you.” Rebecca mused, after a moment. “But no, if I know Danny, all that’ll do is piss him off. Giving him time and space might be the best way to handle it. I’m sorry for wasting you guys’ time.”
“Nah, you’re good, Becca.” Jill put a hand on her shoulder, and Rebecca gave her a small smile. “Besides, it’s what we’re here for. I don’t know about Chris here, but I’ve been around the block a few times. It helps to get a fresh perspective.”
“What? Hell does that mean, Valentine? When was the last time you had a relationship that lasted past the next morning? Because, and you might recall, we were right here not a week ago while you regaled me with the last One Nighter you had.” Chris said with a Gimlet eye, as Jill made a face and slugged him in the shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up Chris.”
000
The alarms rang out, humming through the air as he ran, his feet pounding on the stone floor, the metal grips on his boots ringing out with every heavy footfall. His breath was ragged as he tried to swallow one more mouthful of air, and through his mask he could smell the stink of that… that mold as it permeated the air.
In the distance he could hear the shuffling and pounding of massive, uneven steps, the pained moans and terrified cries of the rest of the crew as they screamed out in pain and horror at the thing they had found, the strange, infectious filth that burrowed into their skin and left ugly, pulsating tumors throughout their flesh. He had been lucky, had been in the back when the first shouts of panic rang out. He’d thought it was a cave-in at first, or someone had hit a gas vein. It wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened to Stevens. It wouldn’t even be the first time it happened on this job.
This fucking job, he thought bitterly, as he ran towards the lift. He and his crew had been hired out of the Yukon to help an American pharmacorp build some kind of deep mining endeavor. The hell a band-aid company wanted to get into quarrying, he didn’t know, but the whole project had been a hellacious slog from the get go. The land was all wrong for this kind of work, and despite the seemingly infinite funds the company had to throw around, the whole mine had been a death trap from day one. Mudslides and sinkholes had haunted their every step, and establishing the refinery had been nearly impossible due to the soft ground.
The building had started to sink before the first concrete pours were finished drying, and every effort since then had only prolonged the inevitable. Then they hit the first gas pockets, nasty, choking things that burned like sulfur mixed with methane and were toxic enough to almost scare off even his hardened crew, if it weren’t for the frankly insane paycheck. And that didn’t even touch on what they were even doing out there to begin with.
Gold, silver, some kind of valuable shale, the people paying the tab didn’t even seem to know themselves. They just were told to dig, despite Stevens’ own warnings that none of the test digs had indicated there was anything but dirt and stone in these hills. It was the most ass-backwards thing he’d ever seen, but the money was right, and the company had promised full medical and insurance coverage so long as his team stayed on task, so despite his misgivings, he’d gotten them working.
His boys were an impressive team, too. They’d been in the business of moving earth for more than a decade, and had no less than a dozen pits under their belts. If anyone could get things running, then they could. But that was then, and now? This was a fool's errand, and if he managed to live through it, he would do everything he could to burn this god forsaken company to the ground.
He should have followed his gut when they began putting the lab in, a massive concrete structure that was fortified and guarded like a bank vault, set on thick rods that braced it against the bedrock to keep it from sinking. They had brought in crate after crate of things marked with warning labels, millions in computers and electronics, and their own personal army to keep an eye on it all. There had been more than a few incidents of Umbrella’s toughs picking fights with his crew of roughnecks, and he’d been almost ready to walk on that alone.
But the money was just too good. That’s what it all came down to, and what he told himself when the first members of his crew started coming up hacking and coughing, a thick black mucus pouring out of their mouths and noses. They’d been whisked away to the bunker, and that was the last he heard from them. And he’d tried, god knows he did, to find out more, but it was clear that things were bad and the staff were just blowing him off. Then he had decided to head back to town, maybe look into some legal options to get his answers.
But Umbrella security had stopped him at the gate. Told him that it was a security matter, and to go back and manage his people. That representative aid would be there in due time, all they had to do was wait. He knew bullshit when he heard it, but the guards with the guns made a very pointed argument when he tried to push through anyway. He’d still been nursing the black eye from that.
Then he’d threatened to shut down the whole operation, and they hadn’t liked that either. It was made increasingly apparent that the job had become less and less voluntary, and his crew had become more and more concerned with that. Guards had started patrolling the mines where they had been working, and they weren’t even pretending that his people weren’t prisoners. Some of them had tried to sneak out, and the Umbrella jackboots had shot them for the trouble. That was a month ago, and since then whatever veneer of this being anything but slave labor was gone.
They had been worked near to death, digging deeper and deeper into the mountain. More of his guys were getting sick, and the company had been bussing in undocumented workers to make up the difference, who had taken to the job even worse than his people. Many hadn’t been in the best condition to begin with, and the deeper into the mountain they went, the worse it became.
Then… then three hours ago, some of the diggers had broken into a chamber, a cavern in the heart of the mountain, one filled with this sickly black goo that covered the walls in a thick patina. Anyone who had been close had gotten a full face of it when the cave had been breached, the air thick with spores as it bellowed out. The ones closest to the blast had started screaming almost immediately, their skin breaking out into blisters that wept black pus. Several men had rushed forward to help them, but the ones who had been exposed went insane, attacking them. The guards had rushed up and opened fire on both the infected and the wounded.
That had been the last straw, and all the miners had turned on the guards. Distracted, many of them went down even as they gunned down his people, but that hadn’t stopped the wafting black filth in the air from settling over everyone that had been gathered there. It didn’t take much for it to spread from there. Anyone who’d been caught in that toxic cloud had… had changed, somehow. They had started to bulge grotesquely, had begun to spawn strange, sharp growths over their bodies, sprouting long talon-like nails and distended, horselike jaws. Then they began going after the uninfected. They would run them down, some dragging them deeper into the mines, others just… just pinning them down and forcing their jaws open, before vomiting a pustulent black goo down their throats.
Those that fought, died, and those that ran died tired. Stevens was lucky, he had the press between himself and the nightmares. He had, to his shame, left many of those men behind to die, screaming, alone, in the dark. But he wanted to live. He had a wife, he had kids, he couldn’t let them turn him into one of those… those things.
So he hid, and ran, and hid, and found his way through the labyrinth of tunnels to the elevator. He had tried calling it, but there was nothing. Those bastards up top had killed the lift, they had to. But that was okay, there was an emergency ladder located up the side of the elevator. It was a pitiful thing, just a series of rungs hammered into the stone wall, but he climbed it all the same.
It was exhausting. The ride down was almost ten minutes long, but he didn’t know how much that translated into his efforts. He just knew that up was salvation, and down was straight into hell. There were no other options. So up he went, rung after rung, for what felt like hours. All the way down, he could still hear the sounds of screaming, the braying of the monsters, the desperate cries for help, the scattered gunshots as those left behind tried to kill the creatures, or, more likely, decided to end themselves to escape whatever fate was down there. Stevens refused to think about it, refused to let himself care. He had to climb. So he did.
Eventually, exhausted, with burning arms and throbbing joints, he managed to pull himself up. And as he dragged himself closer to the light, bit by bit, he heard something scraping behind him. In the dark of the cave below, there was the sound of something wet and sharp grinding against the concrete. He forced himself to his feet, his footsteps agonizingly tired, but he had to get out.
That first breath of fresh air was a godsend to him. Looking around, he noticed that nobody seemed to be up here, none of the guards, or scientists, or anyone. He looked around, confused, when he began to notice the foul taste in the air. It was like down in the tunnels, but diluted. Faint, but present. He took a stumbling step forward, looking around, and then another, but still there was nothing.
Perhaps they’d run? If they did, then this was his chance. He knew where the parking lot was. He just needed his keys. He could get out that way, and then he could blow this whole thing open. He owed it to the people he’d been forced to leave behind. He would make it right. He would fix-
He felt a jerk. Glancing down, he saw a long, curved bone protruding from his stomach as his hands came up to feel it, like it was unreal, yet he could touch it all the same. Then he saw it, his own face, reflected back in one of the puddles on the ground, muddy and filthy, but still, like a mirror. He saw the black streaks coming from his eyes, his nose, his mouth, the thin foam that coated his lips, oily and thick. Then he felt another jerk, and the last thing he saw was the fleeting light, as the barbed tentacle dragged him back down into the dark, and he knew no more.
