Tie the Noose Chapter 27

John’s right cross caught Daniel by surprise as he recovered from the brutal jab to the ribs that had left him gasping and out of position. He managed to stay on his feet though, a hard learned lesson from his first educational weeks in the ring, because the older man can and would take him on the ground with kicks and punches until he managed to recover, or was knocked clean out. Whichever came first, really. But that was the point of this whole thing, drilling out those weak impulses, those collapsing defenses, while keeping his mind moving one step ahead, planning the next opening and watching for that single moment of weakness. Because he could be hurting, but hurt wasn’t dead, and that was all the difference between a close call and a casket.

John was a master at his craft, an expert fighter, but that was the least of it. He knew a list of esoteric and useful skills that he’s started peppering into their lessons. Traps, for one, and at Daniel’s request, explosives. Survival, first aid, even firearms CQC were on the docket, as Daniel mastered the skills presented to him. That was the nature of it, of thor relationship, but the old war dog was a man that Daniel had the utmost respect for. He also didn’t ask a lot of questions, which was a mercy lately.

Things had been tense with Rebecca, slowly growing as she watched and cared for him. They’d had several talks since he’d bungled the big one, all of them peeling back bits and pieces, slowly exploring the few things she managed to get out of him, and he was… not sure how to handle it. The Survivalist had nothing for him yet, and he’d been checking almost daily at this point. He could tell the man was slightly annoyed, but played the genial clerk all the same. His plan to just… show her something, anything, that would be the absolute proof he needed was falling flat, and as the days passed she had been picking through the things he’d told her.

She had found things at the RPD that spoke of some issues, maybe as high up as Irons, the prick, but it was all bog standard power games, not some spanning conspiracy that he’d purported it was. Little things, she was telling him, that were concerning, to be fair, and she said she was building a case file on her own. Maybe he was wrong, not in that there was a problem, but in scope, and that she kept trying to talk him around, trying to show him the truth of it, to help him.

He didn’t resent her for it. She was trying to help, but her incomplete picture was doing more harm than good. It was hard to imagine it, from her perspective. She cared about him a lot. He’d have to be blind not to see it, but it was getting overbearing. He never should have said anything. He should have lied about it, and sought forgiveness after. It might have strained things but in hindsight this had become a much more reaching issue than he’d thought it would be.

John’s fist slammed into Daniel’s face, hard enough to send the man skidding across the ring, and the soldier paused and stared down at him in disappointment. “Fuck was that? Get your head out of the clouds, jackass.”

Daniel shook his head, trying to get the ringing in the back of his skull to abate, as he stared up at the blonde man and wiped the blood from his lip. He knew there wasn’t a right answer, so he just hoisted himself up as John reset, cracking his neck in the process.

“You’ve been sloppy all day. It’s unlike you.” John spit to the side, and came at him with a high kick that almost took his face off as he slid back, “Daydreaming will get you killed, you pull that shit when it MATTERS!” The second kick nearly caught him in the jaw, and Daniel was forced to take a hard knife hand to the chest as John closed, “Focus on your opponent!”

Daniel tried to recover with a hammerblow that John deflected, only to be caught by a quick reverse jab. The trip that came next was hopped over almost contemptuously, before John came around and tried to stomp on Daniel’s outstretched leg. He barely managed to slide it out from under him, the move costing him momentum as the second stomp came for his other knee. He blocked it, trying to catch the foot, but John danced out of the way.

“You’re slow! Stop trying to think ahead and let your reflexes take over!” John shouted as he charged in, and Daniel barely managed to block the cutting strikes, but ate a solid uppercut to the jaw. Daniel dodged the flowing hook that would have caught him in the bend in his leg, a move that had sent him to the ground a dozen times in the past, but all that did was put him off balance. “Recover!”

The word had him reverse cartwheeling away from a solid knee that would have folded Daniel like a chair. He was pulling distance, trying to seize momentum when John came in from the side, boot aiming for his jaw. “Now STRIKE!” Almost on a dime, Daniel rolled to his feet and sent a spearpot elbow at John, followed by a forward kick and a set of jabs that had let him finally seize the momentum of the match.

“Better! Now COUNTER!” Daniel barely saw what happened when John swiped his arm just as it hit the full apex of his swing, grabbing him and trying to roll him into a choke. Daniel stomped back, pivoting his shoulder and throwing John off, who effortlessly rolled back while Daniel pursued. It was a mistake the moment he did it, and he knew it as John curled and launched himself like a spring, the bottoms of his boots catching Daniel in the chest and sending him to the ground.

The match wasn’t over, and Daniel strove to get himself up, even as he felt John stomp on his back and kick him in the ribs. The pain was agonizing as it sent a spike of acid down his spine. That was a fracture, but John didn’t care. He reared back for another blow, a finisher to the head, when Daniel speared him in the gut. He was tossed off with a quick rotation lock, but it was enough to get him back on his feet.

“Hurts, don’t it? Keep your head in the fight, maybe you won’t be limping off to load up on some Green to take your boo boos away!” John barked as he stalked towards Daniel. Daniel groaned in pain as he took up his stance, knowing John wasn’t going to let something like a little fractured rib stop him from punishing his wayward student, and Daniel knew it.

The sounds of the fight echoed through the room as the two clashed, only stopping when John saw that Daniel was at his limits, the man bruised and battered from the pummeling, but still on his feet. John snorted in derision, but that was to be expected. Daniel had made the cardinal sin of drifting during a fight and he’d been punished for it. Several times, it felt like, but John was of the opinion that if he could walk, he could fight. Needless to say, Daniel could do neither as he lay on the concrete in a puddle of his own sweat.

“You were shit today. I haven’t seen a showing that bad from you since your fourth week. I expect better from you.” John said as he fished out a bottle of water, cracking the lid and chugging it down. “I don’t give a damn about what’s got you twisted up, but I advise you get your ass together. You come back like this and I’ll send you to a morgue instead of a hospital. You’ve been warned.”

“Got it…” Daniel groaned, and hoisted himself up after a minute, his body a rictus of pain. He went for his gym bag and palmed a pill bottle from a side compartment, rolling two of the small green miracle meds into his hand and down his throat. The relief was immediate, and he felt the pain fade, slowly, but steadily.

That had been another thing. Rebecca noticed how often he used Green Herb, and she’d been unhappy to say the least. She’d given him the riot act, the full breakdown about how these things could cause toxin buildup in his organs, cause all kinds of possible cancers due to the regenerative effect, and another dozen risks, warnings and symptoms he could get from abusing the Green weeds that grew around the city. Not that he seemed to notice.

She had been amazed to find out he’d been dosing for days on end, for weeks on end, almost consistently every day. She’d tried to force him to go to the hospital, had actually forced him to do a blood toxicity test from her home kit, and hadn’t calmed down until she saw that the test came back negative across the board. She still got him to promise to go get looked at and tested regardless, and he did, if only to keep the peace, but it came back clean too.

He was just built different, he supposed. Rebeca was less than happy with that, and made him swear to cut back anyway. He didn’t have the heart to deny her, but he did start keeping his supply at the hideout. The grow unit had finally started producing Red and Yellow for him, and they were good quality too, so that took some of the stress off of him. Red herb hit like a hammer when it entered the system, and it was massively more effective than the Greens, just as promised. Mixing in a bit of Yellow, just a bit, gave him a healthy glow to go along with the healing effects, leaving him refreshed.

Literally better living through health and chemistry. He grinned at the thought as John trundled back up.

“Wht’s got you so fuckin’ happy?” He asked as he dropped a wrapped book in front of Daniel.

“Just something amusing. Nothing important. Is that it?” He asked, lifting the manual. It was a faded army manual, “Chemical Mixing Procedures: Explosives, Vol. 4” the cover read, and Danil flipped the book open. Inside were lists of instructions and chemical makeups, as well as the information on how to mix and set all manner of bombs. The outside of the book warned that it was for military use only, but neither of them cared.

“It is. That’s got everything you need for some boom. Just don’t get caught with it, it’s an automatic fifteen years on top of any other sentence if they catch you with it.” John sighed, and looked a bit awkwardly at Daniel. “I’m not gonna regret this, am I?” It had been a big ask for John to get the munitions guide, considering, but Daniel shook his head.

“Just for exploring options, John. Thanks.” Daniel gave the man a nod as he packed the book away, “See you next week.”

“Next week.” Was all the reply he got as Daniel slipped out the door.


000


Rebecca sat at her desk, staring at the shining brass casing in her hand, a dark look etched on her face as she tried to figure out where the round had come from, and moreso, how it had wound up in Danny’s truck. Her first guess had been that it had tracked on with her somehow, caught in her uniform, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember when she had last been in the vehicle. At least when she was last there in her uniform. It didn’t make sense for it to be where it was, tucked under one of the seats where she’d found it.

It wasn’t even on purpose, really. She hadn’t been snooping, at least not then, but the glint had caught her eye when they’d gone to watch a drive-in monster matinee a week ago. She had been relaxing with the seats pulled down when she turned over to cuddle with him, and the angle had been just so, letting the light catch it. Danny hadn’t noticed when she reached out and grabbed it, more curious than anything. She hadn’t even realized what it was until they got home, and had at first thought it came from her. But checking with Barry had given her a full accounting of the new P90s and their ammo. He wasn’t short. Hell, they’d been in his ass to be double sure that all the counts were right.

A simple counting error maybe? That had been her second thought. Ammo got used up all the time, but because of the nature of the rounds, they’d been very closely monitored. The aluminum core armor piercing rounds could go through a soft vest like it wasn’t there, and there had been concerns about it, enough that the whole stock was under lock and key and the only people who could access it were the Captain and Barry. They hadn’t been issued the AP rounds yet, and had only been training with the soft-head sporters.

So she was left with a mystery. One she didn’t like. Because Danny was the obvious culprit, but how? The ammo wasn't just hard to get, it was literally unavailable anywhere without the right contacts, and while FN had all but shoved the guns at them, from what she knew, the rounds were still both proprietary and very difficult to make. It wasn’t like he could run down to Kendo’s and pick up a case. And even if he did, where would he find the guns? The only two weapons that even took the baby rifle cartridge were a pistol and the P90s themselves.

All in all there were easier options if he was going to buy a carbine platform. God knew Kendo was more than happy to bring in a custom job, and help file the paperwork with the government. Jill had done just that, picking up a M4 SBR not too long ago, and that thing had been decked out with a suppressor and a scope and everything. It just didn’t make sense. And she couldn’t just ask him like a normal human being.

He’d been cranky enough with her trying to help him see reason with the whole paranoid conspiracy thing. Rebecca hadn't been able to find anything outside of Irons’ corruption and that had been incredibly boring when the whole thing came together. Granted the corruption was an issue but it was just the chief power tripping. She would dump all her files at IA in a few weeks once she finished doting her I’s and crossing her T’s. The whole department had been swamped anyway and she wanted to get Captain Wesker’s support. She didn’t trust Irons not to try and get her booted when things came to light, if it even mattered in the end.

The chief was slimy enough and well connected enough to have survived worse scandals over the years, somehow. No, all that was being pushed aside while she tried to figure out how a highly illegal round for a highly illegal weapon that needed some serious connections wound up in her boyfriend’s truck. She’d had enough issues heading Barry off when she asked about it. Guns weren’t really her thing and he knew that, and she’d had to play it off as a newly found interest in how the armory worked, which the older man had been more than happy to talk her ear off over.

Danny hadn’t gone back to the gun club since his spat with the STARS armorer, and Barry had taken it badly. He hadn’t meant for things to go the way they had, he had explained later. He wanted some answers about what he’d found, but with Kevin fucking that all up he’d wanted to apologise to Danny. She’d been trying to facilitate it, but despite Danny claiming that he didn’t hold any ill will towards Barry, he still refused to meet with the man. Danny said he had too many other concerns to worry about, and she had wondered just what he meant.

Not idly, either. In the last few weeks he’d been coming home more bruised up than usual, and more distracted too. He was out on walks for longer periods of time, and to her shame, she’d tried to follow him more than once. She was just worried, but she’d found that he either wandered around almost at random, taking notes in a notebook she hadn’t been able to find, or he would turn a corner and just vanish, with her having no idea where he went. It wasn’t even consistent, he was disappearing all over the place, with no pattern or reason, and while at first she had chalked it up to her own subpar tracking skills, Jill thought otherwise.

She hated bringing her friend and mentor into this, both for the feeling of betraying Danny’s trust by bringing his private trauma to Jill’s attention, but also in getting Jill herself involved. What was worse was that Jill was a skilled tracker, her Tier One experience giving her a level of skill and ability Rebecca envied, and even she had lost Danny several times. It was like he was picking and choosing when to let her find him, aware that they were watching, and when he needed to vanish, he vanished. That was honestly more scary than the obsessive adherence to the conspiracy that he had.

He made the right mouth noises when she talked to him about it, but it never reached his eyes. Never seemed to really sink in, and Rebecca wasn’t dumb enough not to see it. Quite the opposite, it hurt her a lot, that he would do that to her. He was still the same caring, amazing man otherwise, but it was just one more thing that stood out. Worse, she was beginning to suspect he was getting into more trouble than before on his own.

The uptick in bruises was bad, and she suspected he was dosing the herbs dangerously to compensate. She had pulled him aside about it, given him the rundown and despite not meaning to, got very hard on him about it. When she found out the extent of it, she nearly panicked. He was taking multiple doses a day, some days, not knowing just how dangerous that was. She had all but ordered him to a hospital because his liver should be in the process of shutting down, along with his kidneys and his pancreas and possibly his heart, but he claimed he was fine.

He seemed amused more than anything, and that scared the hell out of her. Eventually he agreed to let her do a blood-tox test, which, while granted, wasn't really built for finding tetrocene in the body, the toxic agent in the Green herbs, in the amounts he had taken it in would have come up anyway. But there was nothing. She did it twice, just to be sure, and still nothing. And she had done something she still felt… incredibly sleazy about, and snuck a third sample of his blood to run to the lab at the station later that night. It was a massive breach of ethics, privacy, and more, but he was worried he was killing himself.

That had come back clean too. Impossibly, she thought maybe he was taking placebos, but he was healing outright from one day to the next fast enough that it couldn’t be anything but. She’d never heard of anything like that, not in her entire life, and she had gone looking in Raccoon U’s medical database for information on any edge cases that were anything like that. The couple she found had been done on rats, using a dangerous filtration drug that hadn’t seen open release, and a general note that the toxicity is an exterior factor, something introduced, that wasn’t something that could be handled in high concentrated doses.

The picture these things painted was confusing at best. Right now she was just working off conjectures, and she didn’t want to jump to the worst conclusions. Impossible to get ammo, indications that he’s using some kind of impossible to get drug, despite not showing any of the other symptoms, and the secrecy were all starting to feel like it was too much for just her to handle, or to even figure out. Maybe it was time to ask some of the others. Danny was friends with Chris, and Jill and Captain Wesker, and even if things were tense with Barry, she could tell he still cared.

They might be able to crack the shell that Danny built around himself. She hated admitting that she wasn’t equipped to deal with this, but she was getting worried at how closed off and obsessive he seemed to be about keeping his secrets, even from her. Rebecca hated that most of all. They’d been together for months, and it felt like forever, and the good times were amazing, and he was so caring and so attentive and he tolerated all her weird habits and so much more. But the bad times were just the opposite. They were hard, real hard, from the nightmares to the arguments to his hiding so much of himself from her… She didn’t even know his parents names, his hometown, anything about him from before Raccoon, and Barry’s found files on his history were all the more damning for it.

Now this. Now another step on the road to hell. She fingered the casing one more time, before palming it and dropping it into her desk. She had a movie date coming up tomorrow and she didn’t want to think about this right now. She wanted a chance to shut her brain off and just enjoy things like a normal ass human being. She wanted to enjoy them with her boyfriend, and she wanted to do it without the hanging specter of what he could be doing, and the implications that felt so damning in between.


000


Daniel sighed tiredly as he pulled off his sweater, dropping it in the laundry bin and trying to ignore the pungent odor of the fertilizer he’d been mucking around with all day and the strange, chemical smell that reminded him of almonds that had resulted in his slow but steady experiments in pulling nitrates out of the ammonia-scented material. The manual had come with ways to do it, for making high-grade bombs in the field, usually for demolitions but the book had a whole section on how to shape charges to do nearly anything.

He had decided on a mix of C4 and Thermite pellets after doing some research, the first because it was incredibly stable, and the second because of the portability. The question of if he wanted to go through a wall or go through a door was all the prompting he needed. The pellets were for the latter, for fitting into keyholes or boring through bolts, and the second was if the first wasn’t enough. The problem was that the C4 needed extremely high-grade nitrates, which you couldn’t get over the counter without a lot of paperwork and questions. But you could also refine it from fertilizer, mixing it with urine and certain catalyzing agents to get it to grow pure nitrogen crystals.

It was an incredibly smelly process that was mechanically very simple. Take a box, add fertilizer, add piss, add other chemicals, let sit for a few days. The stink was nasty enough that he’d had to run a vent line straight into the ducts to pump the worst of it out, and it still saturated his clothes. But it was relatively safe to work with, and the thermite was even more so. Small mercies, that. Safer wasn’t precisely safe, of course, as the burn marks on the concrete floor of his hideout could attest, but he hadn’t needed a hospital, and given the options, that was an even greater concern, but it all worked out in the end.

He did hope that the clothes were salvageable, though. He really liked that sweater, and it had picked up some scents that had permeated his apartment. Annoying, and he’d tossed them into a plastic bag to try and keep the smell from lingering but it was… pretty strong. He’d normally have changed out of them at the hideout, but he’d forgotten his spares when he went out. It happened, and he already had his excuse ready.

“Hey Danny,” He heard the door open, glancing over to see Rebecca strolling in, only for her to freeze and sniff the air, her face screwing up. “Jesus, Danny, what the hell is that? It smells like… like…”

“Shit and bleached almonds?” He said with a chuckle and Rebecca nodded, holding her nose. It was admittedly a little amusing watching her flail around trying to chase the smell away, before he came over and handed her a can of air freshener. “Had a sewer break while I was walking down the street and raw sewage is… well, you know. Got speckled a bit and I tracked it in.”

“Yeah, no kidding, Dan.” Rebecca sighed, before hooking her fingers into his belt. He let her drag him along as she marched out of his apartment and over to hers, an amused quirk on his lips as he watched her take a deep breath of clean air a moment later. “It wasn’t that bad, Becca.” He chuckled, and she shot him a flat look.

“Yes it was, Danny. It smelled like a cow crapped itself to death. And I know what that smells like, I came from a farm remember.” She huffed as she deposited him in her kitchen. He shook his head, amused as she pushed him towards the coffee maker. Like a good boyfriend he proceeded to make her a cup as she tossed her uniform top into her own laundry pile, as he roved his eyes over her bare back. She glanced back at him with a bemused expression, “Not yet, hon. We got a movie to catch, and after… Well, we aren’t going back to your place, but you can stay at mine.”

“I thought that was the plan. You keep telling me about that nurse costume you have stashed away, but I’m starting to have my doubts.” Daniel chuckled as he made himself a cup as well. The warm scent of the dark roast filled the kitchenette, a damn sight better than his own, he had to admit. Rebecca poked her head out, giving him a look that promised a great many things.

“I finally found it.” She hummed, leering at him, “I even found the little stockings that go with it, Mr. Carter. I hope you’re ready.”

“Promises.” Danny chuckled, as she pranced out to grab her coffee in barely anything at all, before giving him a mischievous look and darting back out of his reach before he could get his hands on her. She just laughed at his disappointed pout before slipping away. He made himself comfortable, slipping one of the many, many books she had piled up all over the place into his hand, knowing this would be a bit.

The idea had been simple really. Unwind with a dinner followed by one of those terrible B-rated movies Rebecca loved, this time at one of the more “colorful” theaters bordering one of the few industrial slums that still hadn’t felt Umbrella’s renovating touches, but one Rebecca swore by. They’d been there a few times before, in the warmer months, and he’d liked it well enough. They were doing a bunch of alien flicks this week and Rebecca was all on board. And truthfully he needed to disconnect from the grind a bit. Without the anchor of a regular job holding him down he’d been pushing himself harder than ever, even going so far as to finally update his little shooting range to something a bit more professional, and getting his chemistry lab up and running.

It had all taken longer than he’d have liked, but that was the price he had to pay. At least he wasn’t so exhausted coming home now, something he knew Rebecca appreciated, and while her hours only seemed to go up, he didn’t mind it. It let him surprise her a few times with dinner and he loved how she lit up trying whatever new thing he put together. It was those little things that he enjoyed the most, really. They helped with the weight of the world that seemed to settle on his shoulders.

Listening to Rebecca in the shower, he leaned back, and shut his eyes for just a moment and enjoyed the domesticity of it all. Tonight was going to go great, he just knew it.


000


The world run in Rebecca’s ears as she stared numbly forward, the words “Jericho 941” etched into her mind as she felt Danny’s hand wrap around her arm, dragging her to him as the man that had grabbed her fell back, dropping like a cut marionette as the people around her screamed. The smoke coiled from the shot in muted repose, the serpentine white against the frigid cold air, the tinkling of the casing hitting the snowy pavement, the sound of boneless meat slamming into the ground, and the ringing in her ears from the crack of the shot.

She watched as Danny’s gun followed the body as if it would still get up after he’d put a round oh-so-perfectly between the drunken man's eyes. She didn't know why, didn’t understand it. She was frozen, all her STARS training forgotten in a single moment of unexplained and unexplainable violence. Danny dragged her back, almost skipping across the ground as he followed the body with his eyes, watching, an alien coldness in his gaze that she’d never seen before, and it terrified her. His eyes were flint, dead things full of targeted hate and grim instinct. There was none of the doubt, none of the fear, none of the remorse or shock or surprise. It was like a switch had been flipped in his head and the violence that followed was barely worth the thought.

How did this happen? She asked herself that question over and over, because the night had gone so well, the dinner was amazing, the movies were everything she had ever wanted, nerding out with her to-tolerant boyfriend right next to her. Her fingers were still oily from the popcorn, her tongue a mix of salty and sweet from the candy, when it all happened. It was late, and the streets had been mostly empty. The two had stayed for three whole shows, the last one in an almost empty theater that they’d maybe gotten a little frisky in. The plan had been simple, ending in a night of really hot roleplay sex that was going to set her mood for the next week.

Then the man had stumbled out of the alley across from them. She had noticed there was something wrong with him immediately, from the sweaty, pale skin to the drunken stumbling, to the dishevelled clothing. His business suit was rumpled, torn in places, and his shoes were scuffed and ragged. A homeless man, maybe on a bender, dangerously drugged up, and absolutely heading their way.

She had pulled herself from Danny’s grip, not noticing how his hand had tried to keep hold of hers, as her training took over. She wasn’t afraid, she could restrain a drunk, and even if this guy was high as a kite, it would be fine, but he was a danger to himself, the way he was stumbling into the road. The man had seemingly zeroed in on her, too, stumbling her way and moaning in incoherency, reaching for her. She tried to steady him, and his grip was like a steel cable around her arm, far stronger than it should have been.

In that moment she tried to pull back, as the man’s mouth opened, blood and saliva pouring from his cracked lips, as he seemed to be trying to say something to her. He then tried to pull her arm into his mouth, and that was the last straw for her. She yanked back, freeing her arm, putting some distance between them. He hadn’t taken the hint, probably couldn’t, too high for reason and probably in too much pain to care.

He kept coming, lunching for her, when she heard Danny’s handgun clear the holster. Her eyes went wide. She tried to tell him not to, that this drunk wasn’t a threat, that she had this under control. His name had barely left her lips when she heard the crack, watching it in slow motion, the shot ripping through her ears, leaving them ringing as the drunk who’d tried to snap at her found his brain splattered across the pavement.

Like the world had paused, she watched the homeless man fall to the ground. It wasn’t like in the movies, where they rolled back or slumped or fell back. No, the body dropped like a puppet, and hit the ground unmoving. The shot had been perfect, right in the ten ring, as Barry would call it, the draw picture perfect, practiced, with needle-like precision. Jill called it the sweet spot, the apple, where a round would cut off the hindbrain perfectly, preventing the person from being able to do any kinds of reflex actions. The lights just went out.

Permanently.

But it was what she saw on his face that put it all into stark contrast. Then it was over, and all she could see was the same mechanical gaze that she’d seen in the video with Kevin, right before Barry stopped her boyfriend from killing him. The same detached eyes, that spoke of someone who she didn’t know, and seeing it now? Someone she was afraid of, someone who didn’t have any of the warmth or kindness or love that she knew, and could kill without hesitation or remorse.

“D-Danny-” She gasped out, only for him to pull her back behind him as the gun traced the alley where the man had come from, as if her boyfriend was expecting someone else to burst out following the first, his scanning gaze trying to pierce the shadows and the flickering lights, and for a moment, she thought she saw someone, someone huge, impossibly so, in a black trenchcoat that blended into the bleakness of the alley, unblinking eyes under a fedora. Then she blinked, and he was gone, so quick she wondered if her panicked mind had seen him at all.

Then she heard the running, the sirens, and her hand shot out, wrapping around Danny’s, pulling the gun low. He let her, not speaking, barely breathing, but still he did. She gently pulled the handgun out of his hand, unloading it and setting it down. The last thing they needed was a beat cop showing up and seeing Danny ready for a fight. Shit, this was so bad…

The first person to arrive, surprisingly, though, was Captain Wesker. He was dressed in a black suit with a black tie and his customary shades, Samurai Edge drawn and gleaming in the evening light. It was him who found the two of them, moments before a cop car peeled around the corner, the two officers, Bradley and… Hoss? The two piled out, guns drawn, but paused as they saw both her and the Captain, along with the man on the ground.

Nobody spoke for a moment, as the Captain turned and looked at both Danny and her, and asked the question that had been rippling through her mind since this whole tragedy began.

“What in the hell happened?”


000


Albert Wesker nodded as he listened to Rebecca and Daniel’s story, taking notes on a pad provided by one of the several uniformed officers who had shown up in the intervening minutes since the shooting had happened. Several had even heard the discharge, coming of their own initiative, and more had been slowly piling in since then. It had been a slow night, and despite this area being close to an industrial ghetto, it also bordered a very rich neighborhood and saw a lot of children slumming it, as the term went.

“And then Danny shot him. He was… he was trying to protect me, Captain. I know it looks bad but-” Rebecca spilled out as she looked at Daniel, who had agreed to be cuffed and held in a car while the police did their investigation. “But… I could have stopped him, Captain.”

“I see. While it sounds a bit complicated, I can safely say this sounds like self-defense. If the man was high and trying to bite you, then that’s clearly attempted assault. Possibly even attempted murder. Don’t forget that there’s been an epidemic of blood-borne illnesses in recent years, and if this man has any signs of them, his attempt to bite you could have resulted in a tragedy.” Wesker said, smoothly, resting a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “He was trying to defend you, and that’s admirable. It’s a shame that it ended in violence, but please don’t hold it against him. We both know that he cares for you very deeply.”

Rebecca slumped, looking more lost than ever, but Wesker continued on unabated. “Raccoon is a strong proponent of Stand Your Ground. When that man attempted to assault you, he crossed a line. Daniel was well within his rights to take action, lethal action, in your defense.” He paused, and looked to the body being hauled up by a paramedic, the bag still. “If he was so high that he was incoherent, then it was safe to assume he was hopped up on some pretty powerful stimulants. You know as well as I do what that can do to a person.”

He could see Rebecca slowly coming around, with just the right framing. “He was… being difficult…” She murmured, glancing away. “I still felt like I could have handled it, Captain. This is… I don’t know what to think.”

“Rebecca, I respect the confidence, but I saw that man. He had half a foot and a hundred pounds on you. That combined with the drugs… that could have gone very wrong, very quickly.” He chastised, gently, but saw her bristle anyway. “You’ve been working hard, but you don’t have any field experience yet. You don’t know your limits, and that’s fine, but you need seasoning before you can take these kinds of risks. The fault is mine, admittedly, as I’ve been delaying your in-field work so you had more time to get caught up. I am sorry for that, but ultimately I think Daniel made the right call.”

Rebecca didn’t look happy with that, not even a little. But something about what the Captain said rang frustratingly true. And the way he framed it, it made sense. She hated it, but it made sense. Daniel was just trying to protect her, had been protecting her, but at the same time… she had seen the look in his eyes. He had reacted like he’d done that a thousand times, no hesitation, without doubt, and with absolute intent. The second he decided that man was going to die, he died, and that… she didn’t know how to handle that.

“I’m going to go talk to Daniel now, alright? I’ll see about getting him released home, and handle the investigation myself. I’ll make sure that this is cleared up, Rebecca. Just give me a few minutes, alright?” Albert said as she nodded, her face fleeting through a hundred emotions. Wesker tried not to grin as he watched her settle on something akin to determination, just like he wanted, and her tense body language vanished. Moving over to Daniel, who had been sitting quietly, the man glanced up at him with a cold look.

At that moment Wesker knew that the two were one in the same. He gave a genial smile that didn’t meet his eyes as he leaned over the door. “My turn?” The words were flat, guarded, as if he were tasting them, setting the tone between the two, but to Daniel’s surprise, Wesker just shook his head.

“No, Daniel, don’t worry so much. It’s clear to me that this was self defense. And thank you, for taking on such a burden for one of my officers.” Wesker said, the sincerity thick in his voice. Daniel saw through it immediately of course, but kept a curious look on his face all the same.

“No… problem?” He asked more than stated, and Wesker laughed gently.

“Indeed. It won’t be, Mr. Carter. I’m going to be taking over the investigation myself, but you won’t have anything to worry about. The facts are clear, and I doubt any of the cameras around here will show differently.” He said, sighing, before glancing back to Rebecca. Daniel followed his gaze, and saw Rebecca looking cold and lost. “You did a fine job, Mr. Carter. This would have been a real tragedy. Everyone at the station loves our adorable rookie. She’s shaken, though. I don’t think she was expecting such a… vigorous defense.”

“You don’t say.” Daniel said, leaning back. “This wasn’t how I intended this to go.” He sighed tiredly. There was a crack in his hard demeanor, and Wesker exploited it ruthlessly.

“It’s never our intent that gets us, in the end, Daniel. And you aren’t the only one who’s had to make the decision to take a life protecting something we are deeply for. I suspect you and I are very similar in this respect.” Wesker said, and saw Daniel glance up at him in surprise. “Don’t be so shocked, Mr. Carter. I understand more than most, the kinds of things we do, because they’re necessary. You did what you had to, and I respect that.”

“I’m not sure what to do with that, Albert.” Daniel said after a moment, but Wesker just shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, Daniel. Just remember that if you need assistance, don’t be afraid to ask. You may be surprised at the kinds of things I might be able to help you with.” Wesker chuckled, and helped Daniel out of the squad car, uncuffing him and brushing him off.

“Like incidents like this?” He asked, his face neutral, but Wesker had to restrain himself from preening at the win.

“Just like this, my Friend. Just like this.”

Wesker watched as Daniel and Rebecca left the scene, and he felt something akin to joy at finally breaking into the shell of the illusive and illustrious Mr. Carter. He had picked up on Wesker’s real offer almost immediately, as well he should, and true to his word, Wesker would write this whole thing up as a self-defense shooting. He would make sure the cameras that caught it all would show the right things, and the few witness reports would match. He wasn’t a clumsy oaf like Irons was, he knew how to make all the lines paint the right pictures.

Truly he couldn’t have been happier with the results of this little experiment. William had been hesitant to let an infected out, had insisted on one of the X-prototypes for security, but had ultimately acquiesced. And what a harvest they’d managed to get, all at the cost of a disposal tool. Wesker had been watching the whole byplay nearby, and none had questioned his presence on the scene after. He had been monitoring this experiment personally, and when he saw Daniel recognize the T-infected almost on sight, and had dispatched it with both trained speed and experienced precision, he had no doubts that he’d found their mysterious operative.

He’d had his suspicions and as his investigation into the strange man had come to fruition, he knew that there was something deeper about Chambers’ beau than he’d initially inspected. He was building a network, building an organization, finding the right tools and the right people. The STARS, the reporter, hell, even Wesker himself, had all been slowly felt out, and if nothing else, the blonde was shocked at the sheer effectiveness of it.

It answered so many questions, but raised even more. And it made Wesker wonder if perhaps there was something more to the plain-looking man with the shrouded eyes. He wondered if like William, he’d finally found a peer. Time will tell what Daniel was planning, and Wesker couldn’t help but savor the anticipation, one tantalizing secret at a time.