Chapter Text
Leon was once again alarmed by the sheer stupidity that Umbrella and the DSO showed. He hadn't been told much, which wasn't unusual, as the government always tended to be scarce on details. But he was informed that there had been another outbreak.
Massive. Citywide.
Not only was Raccoon City fully overrun by zombies but the infection has also spread to the city's surrounding rural areas. Leon gritted his teeth at the thought of all the lives that had been lost due to this virus.
He wasn't at all surprised when he learned Umbrella had been behind it. His many years in the force chasing after their lose ends and abandoned experiments had taught him enough about them. But what he hadn't expected was the notion of a cure. Made by Umbrella themselves to reverse the effects of the man-made outbreak.
Leon had been enjoying the days of rest he had received after his last mission when he got called into the directors office. (If you could even call him rigidly laying down on his bed or restlessly pacing in the small apartment he had been given, always making sure to having a gun or weapon in arms reach, resting.) And just like that he was on his next assignment.
To retrieve a B.O.W. out of a highly infested city.
They didn't even give him time to grab his belongings, instead ushering him into the already prepared transport. As promised, all that he needed for the mission was waiting inside.
His movements were calm and well practiced, hands working on pure muscle memory, as he geared up. He was given a dark blue thermal turtleneck that sat snugly against his skin. Besides that, he also got his pretty standard work uniform consisting of a pair of dark, insulated cargo pants along with a tactical belt which held some of his set-up.
The harness around his chest closed with a click and Leon could then, finally pull on the leather jacket and gloves provided to him. At last he also pulled a shotgun over his shoulder, securing it against his back.
He did a quick mental run-through before nodding to himself and sitting down when he confirmed that he had all that he needed.
Guns, hatchet, enough ammunition to last him for a few days, a radio and some of the green herbs. They didn't give him anything else and Leon didn't ask. He would be able to scavenge everything else in the ruins of the city by himself. Besides, he thought while starring the passing landscape out of the window, how long could it take to find the man.
As it turned out, the B.O.W. was a seemingly ordinary man, a courier who had key components of the cure inside of his blood, but had slipped out of the DSO's fingers during their first contact.
Leon thought back to the file. There really wasn't much to him.
Bryan Hodukavich, 25 years old, working as an organ courier for Lightfoot Medical Transport (which turned out to be a small company branching off the Umbrella network).
There was other information listed, but Leon only skimmed it briefly, ruling it as irrelevant. The man lead a very normal life, finished high-school and a got slightly above-average SAT score, but didn't go to college due to financial reasons. Instead he worked some odd jobs here and there, supporting himself until now.
That's also when he learned that Bryan didn't have any living family left, which made their job somewhat easier. Leon deduced that with family out of the way, his disappearance would be quickly accepted and moved on from by all of his colleagues. He felt a small sting of understanding at that statement before regaining his composure and reading on.
There was a physical description as well as photos and Leon efficiently memorized the man he would be searching for. Altogether, the man gave a very non-threatening appearance.
Standing at about 5'8" he was around 3 inches shorter than Leon. And while Leon's frame was build wide, his muscles build up from years of training, Bryan's whole body seemed rather soft, just fit enough to survive as long as he did during the outbreak but in no way a match to Leon's strength.
What really captured Leon's attention was his face. The picture attached looked like your typical ID-photo, probably taken for his most recent job, mused Leon absentmindedly. On it Bryan looked severely unhappy to say the least, but it wasn't the worst picture Leon's ever seen.
His eyes wandered from the man's chin, to his hair then back to his nose, slim lips and then finally settled on the eyes.
Innocent looking doe-eyes stared at him from the paper, making him turn away for a moment. On second look, he also noticed the prominent eye bags covering his under eyes and the rather disheveled mop of hair. Soft, light brown strands fell into place, crowning the young mans head and reaching down to his jawline. His left ear was also adorned with a silver ring piercing.
The strong contrast to the footage shot a few hours ago almost made him wince.
The helicopter's cameras were able capture Bryan's bone deep exhaustion and fearful expression even through the long distance.
His once fluffy looking hair was now sitting dirty and matted, firmly against his forehead. The blood, covering the whole young man, making it appear a darker shade than it actually was.
Altogether, his whole look gave the impression that he didn't belong there. He wasn't a fighter. Hell, he was barely a survivor by the looks of it.
His clothing was another problem, thought Leon with a frown. And even though Leon didn't know what the courier had to go through on his way into the heart of the city, the torn flannel and sweater gave a hint towards his past struggles.
Another reminder that the man was clearly far out of his depth here were his way too light looking pants and the lack of any kind of footwear. Leon's frown only deepened.
It was a miracle that the man hasn't frozen to death, reflected Leon with a sigh. But that type of look was very common among survivors. Having saved his fair share of people, he witnessed first-hand how the brain just tunes a lot of variables out in high stress situations.
So, all in all, the chances that the man was still alive were quite grim. Maybe he had frozen over on the way out of the hospital. Or the smell of blood on his clothes attracted a hoard of zombies that slowly and painfully took his body apart. Even if he were to come across other survivors, the chances of them just shooting the courier on sight were higher than he would have liked.
But still, the DSO ordered him to retrieve him. To get on the helicopter, with close to no notice, get dropped off around Raccoon City General and track the man down. Alive.
That wasn't all too surprising, considering the man's blood contained highly valuable antibodies but even so, the way in which the task was delivered sounded like they were more afraid of Leon killing their precious target instead of the man succumbing to his surroundings. Leon's eyes narrowed at the implication.
He just hoped the man wouldn't die before he found him.
The thought alone of having to drag a dead body through this whole mess of city was enough to give him a headache. But before he could list all of the ways this could go wrong in his head, a voice interrupted him through the intercom.
"ETA 2 minutes!"
They were already deep inside Raccoon City.
Looking through the window, Leon could see the the normally peaceful image of the town interjected by chaos. The streets were filled with abandoned and overturned cars but left otherwise bare. Vague pools of blood could be seen in the snow, visible under the remaining streetlights. And every now and then, amber flames rose towards the sky, lightening up the scene of a disaster.
Efficiently, the helicopter lowered itself to the open ground in front of the building that was a working hospital only hours ago and Leon quickly jumped outside. His knees cracking when his feet hit the ground.
Thankfully, the area had already been cleared by the aforementioned troops, leaving only the lingering smell of blood and rot in the air. There was also a static buzzing of electricity coming from the remnants of the overrun building which he decidedly tuned out.
With the pistol firmly gripped in his hand, Leon skillfully moved around the area. Having received a map of the city and the building-plan of the hospital beforehand, it wasn't hard to find what he was looking for. Especially not with the footsteps leading to and from the place.
Standing in front of the closed shutters to the garage, Leon immediately noticed two things.
Firstly, the lock, that had clearly been there before, lay shattered on the snowy ground before him. And secondly and to his great enjoyment, Leon could see a very obvious bullet hole just shy of a 4 inches from the metal hooks the lock was previously mounted on.
Before he could stop himself, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened and the evidence left an amusing picture after itself.
Leon shook his head, focus. The minuscule grin faded from his lips just as quickly as it had appeared and his face slipped back into the carefully crafted, expressionless mask.
The agent lifted the steel shutters with his left hand and stepped inside.
He did a fast sweep-through of the place, after which he was decently confident that nothing would jump out at him at any moment. Lowering his weapon, Leon's gaze locked onto the pile near the entry to the upper levels.
Upon taking a closer look, the pile consisted of a dirtied jacket with reflective strips and a, now dulled and muddied, yellow knitted beanie with sheep on it. This had been where Bryan had sat down to rest before entering the stairwell towards the lab.
Looking around once more, his eyes efficiently located the camera in the corner of the ceiling. He stared at it a little, like how he saw Bryan look at it on his last sighting. Leon observed the small red light blink every few seconds before looking away.
There was no one the other side. That he was sure of.
From what his contractor told him, the lab had been completely destroyed leaving all of the people there dead. With the exception of Bryan Hodukavich. The courier who carried part of the cure in that green medical bag with a strap over his shoulder.
Really, it was a miracle that he had survived all that and was now still up and running. How, Leon had no idea, but he wasn't sent here to ask questions.
Turning back around, Leon bend down next to the pile of clothes and gingerly picked up the soft beanie and pocketed it in one of his many pockets. He wasn't quite sure why did that action, but it came almost naturally to him. (Later on he would reason with himself that having a clearly sentimental item and giving it back to the courier would be a simple way to establish trust and make his mission run much smoother. There was no other reason.)
And with that he made his way back out of the parking lot.
The whole detour must have taken him only about five minutes but he still didn't want to waste any more time. The courier was last seen leaving through the camera around 1.5 hours ago, which meant he could already be very far away.
Of course, Leon supposed, it wasn't very likely. The mans body seemed to be covered in injuries and the exhaustion practically radiated out of the screen.
If he were to guess, Bryan probably went one way, without any form of plan in mind, and after the tiredness of his limbs finally caught up to him, he most likely found a secure place to rest for a little while.
And that gave Leon enough time to track him down.
There was still new snow lightly falling from the sky, but it thankfully hadn't covered the footsteps leading from the hospital yet. Of course it was a little hard to make out in the poor light conditions but all details lost due to the night were made up by the ever present drops of blood and grime along the path.
He felt like a dog, tracking down the man through the city by his trail of footsteps and only gritted his teeth in response.
Additionally, seeing the marks left by Bryan only cemented in Leon's head that the mans condition definitely didn't allow for long travel. Then, another thought crossed his mind.
What if something happened? The man clearly wouldn't be able to defend himself against anything above a low level threat, and even then Leon wasn't quiet confident on that assessment.
After that his mind went silent and his own steps fell into a quicker rhythm. Eyes scanning the area in front of him, not looking back as the moved further and further from the destroyed building.