A Bad Feeling

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Kelly left.

"Honestly, T-Lilith, we shouldn't have let her walk away." Adrian leaned against the doorframe and watched Kelly's back disappear down the street.

"It's all right. I trust Miss Kelly," T-Lilith said. "Besides, Adrian wasn't really going to kill Miss Kelly, was he?"

"What makes you say that?"

"At that range, Adrian couldn't miss three shots in a row." T-Lilith looked up at him. "If Adrian had truly wanted Miss Kelly dead, she would already be dead."

Adrian clicked his tongue. For reasons he didn't care to examine, that irritated him.

"T-Lilith, I need to tell you something. If we're going to live together, you need to stop trusting people so easily. I'm happy we're together, but think about it. We met two days ago and already decided to stay together." Adrian rubbed at his temple. "Even a romance scam usually takes longer than that."

"Does Adrian want T-Lilith to stay because of a romance scam?"

"Of course not."

"Then it's fine."

She said it with that same calm, unreadable face, and Adrian found himself unable to tell whether she was innocent, pretending, or somehow both at once. He sighed and shut the door. He had originally considered following Kelly to see whether she tried anything behind his back, but T-Lilith had said the woman could be trusted. Fine. Once. He would trust her once.

"Forget it. Let's eat. Dinner's gone cold."

Kelly pulled a black mask over her face and walked down the street, her thoughts a tangled mess.

Her original plan had been simple. Secretly leak the route of T-Lilith's convoy to BSAA's European branch, let the BSAA take custody of T-Lilith, and make sure the transfer happened quietly enough that no loose ends remained. Once the BSAA had her, T-Lilith might have a chance at a life entirely different from the one the organization had designed for her.

Now that plan had been shattered by a third-rate mercenary from Loplers.

Wasn't he supposed to be greedy? Ruthless? Cold-blooded? The moment he heard Kelly wanted to take T-Lilith away, the man had nearly gone feral and almost killed her on the spot. If T-Lilith had not saved her, Kelly suspected her corpse would already be in that small warehouse Adrian had mentioned, cut apart for disposal.

A violent mercenary who wanted to fall in love with a B.O.W. That was a new one.

Like a mother-in-law who could not stand the man her daughter brought home, Kelly could tell T-Lilith genuinely liked the mercenary, and Adrian Voss probably did care about T-Lilith in his own damaged way. That did not mean Kelly could leave her with him. Put simply, she did not trust Adrian.

She slipped into an empty alley and hesitated for a long time before taking out her phone.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

Chris Redfield entered the restaurant Adrian often used wearing a heavy coat, a sniper from his team at his side. The owner glanced at him twice. He vaguely remembered the man. The last time Chris had come here, he had been alone, brushing past Adrian as Adrian left after a meal.

It was hard not to notice Chris. Even in Loplers, few people looked as if their muscles were about to split their clothes open. Tonight, though, he looked drained, with the weight of recent losses written all over his face.

"Two steaks," Chris said. "And one large cold beer."

"Make that two beers," said the sniper behind him. "I want one too."

The owner looked her over as well. She was tall, sharp-featured, with short reddish-brown hair and sun-warmed skin. The jacket she wore carried an unfamiliar emblem, and she had the lean, efficient look of someone used to work rather than display.

Soon the food arrived. Chris said nothing. He simply picked up the beer and took a long, hard drink.

"Honestly, I'm a little surprised," the sniper said as she cut into her steak. "I never thought Chris Redfield, the BSAA's iron man, could make a face like that. You shouldn't blame yourself this much. It wasn't your fault."

"You don't understand, Lainey." Chris's voice was low. "You don't. I've been through this too many times. Raccoon City, then the rest of the world. I'm tired of it. Sometimes I wonder whether any of our fighting means a damn thing. The FBC scandal broke wide open this year, and bioterrorism hasn't slowed because of us. So what are we really fighting for?"

The FBC, the Federal Bioterrorism Commission, had been founded to help the United States resist bioterrorism. Yet in this very year, the FBC had been exposed in a massive scandal. Its commissioner, Morgan Lansdale, had secretly supplied B.O.W.s to the terrorist group Il Veltro in order to expand the FBC's authority, creating the 2004 Terragrigia Panic that shook the world. Chris himself had been one of the people who uncovered the truth.

Lainey had no answer. She did not have Chris's experience with bioterrorism or B.O.W.s, and she had not lost teammates again and again in the field the way he had. The operation against the Tyrants had already been the most dangerous fight of her counter-bioterror career. The man across from her had survived that level of danger so many times she could hardly imagine the number.

She took a silent drink of beer. The table fell into a heavy silence.

Then Chris's phone rang.

He answered. Within moments, the weariness on his face hardened into something focused and grave.

"Understood. I'm heading back now."

"What happened?" Lainey asked.

"Emergency. Our informant sent an update. The convoy's real cargo wasn't the two Tyrants. It was a silver-haired young woman."

"We didn't see any silver-haired young woman that night."

"Because a local mercenary took our target before we got there. We'll get the full file back at the temporary command post. We need to move."

Chris stood. Lainey noticed the gloom had vanished from his face, replaced by a steadiness most people could never force into themselves.

He was strong. Not because he did not grieve, and not because he never doubted whether his actions were right. He was strong because when the world needed him, he could bury the grief, lock the doubt away, and step forward anyway.

"No wonder he's one of the BSAA's best," Lainey murmured.

The storm outside was gathering, but Adrian knew nothing about it.

At that moment, he was holding T-Lilith and staring into space, still thinking about Kelly. The fact that Kelly had thought to hand T-Lilith over to the BSAA meant the woman was sick in the head in a very specific and dangerous way. No one could guarantee she would not leave the apartment and sell both T-Lilith and Adrian to the BSAA. Even if she did keep quiet, what happened if the organization discovered her leak? Who could promise she would not give T-Lilith up under torture?

The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became. The more irritated he became, the more uneasy he felt. He really should have killed her regardless of T-Lilith's objections. If killing her had not been possible, he should at least have kept her close enough to watch.

"Is Adrian angry at T-Lilith? Because of Miss Kelly?"

T-Lilith's quiet, uncertain voice came from his arms. Adrian rubbed her head.

"No. Just annoyed."

"It's all right. If it is Miss Kelly, she must want T-Lilith to live happily."

T-Lilith shifted in his arms and rested her face against his neck.

"Miss Kelly only does what she believes is right," she said. Her breath warmed his skin. "To her, her only mistake was joining that organization and creating me. So if Miss Kelly sees T-Lilith happy now, she will be able to leave in peace."

"Only does what she believes is right, huh?" Adrian murmured.

"Yes. Miss Kelly only does what she believes is right."

Adrian clicked his tongue.

"That makes this harder."

He looked out at the darkening sky, then suddenly said, "Want to stay somewhere else tonight?"

"Why? Is home not good?"

"Nothing like that." Adrian's mouth tightened. "I just have a bad feeling. There's going to be some heavy construction tonight."

Naraza and Norman led the security team's elite unit around the local defenses and slipped into Loplers.

Naraza checked his watch. Ten minutes to midnight. He lit a thick cigar, making Norman frown.

"One more time. We knock on the mercenary's door. When he opens it, we kill him. Then we take the prize asset and leave. Clear?"

"A plan this crude doesn't need repeating." Norman waved away the smoke curling in front of him. "Do we have enough anesthetic?"

"Relax, Norman." Naraza grinned. "This dose could drop an elephant. It will be more than enough for our asset."

"That monster is not an elephant," Norman muttered.

"Time. We move through the rear alley and finish this before the city's gangs realize anything is happening. Go."

Naraza and Norman took point, one on each side, with the team moving in a line behind them. Their snipers began climbing nearby buildings for overwatch. The unit hugged the wall and approached Adrian's office in silence. Naraza slipped to the corner, signaled for the others to halt, and leaned just far enough out to scan the street.

Good. Near midnight, the street was almost empty. Adrian's office was beside them. They could take the target at any moment.

Naraza signaled the move. The team rushed out toward the office.

Then Naraza's eyes narrowed.

"Captain, a team is moving toward your position!" the sniper warned over comms.

Naraza and Norman looked toward the opposite corner and saw a squad in green combat gear pour out of the alley. The two groups ran straight into each other with no warning.

Both sides froze.

Naraza's gaze locked on the muscular man leading the other team. When he saw the patch on the man's shoulder, his expression twisted.

"Damn it. BSAA!"

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