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The last few shots rang out of Leon's pistol. With a shriek, the mangled mass of flesh that had been stalking him throughout this maze of a laboratory fell to the metal floor with a wet thud. Around one of its misshapen limbs was a thumb drive attached to a chain. After prying it free, he stashed it away in his case and radioed into headquarters. After a few seconds of static, he heard the voice of HQ in his ear.
“Has the asset been acquired, Agent Kennedy?”
“Affirmative.” He replied. He pulled out his comms device to look at his map. “Awaiting instructions for extraction.”
“I have a chopper en route, 20 minutes out,” she said. His map lit up with a small chirp showing the helicopter on radar. “Head for the rooftop extraction point I've marked.”
“Copy that,” Leon replied, “over and out.”
“Over and out.”
The call cut out and Leon began the journey back to the front of the building which was three floors up. He took a deep breath before he began the ascent. Why do labs always have to be underground?
As he approached the second floor landing, the sight of an open window made him pause. He didn't recall any stairwell windows being open on the way down. Leon drew his pistol, reloading swiftly before taking position with his flashlight. That's when he got a whiff of it. A musky, floral scent that he would know anywhere. He holstered his weapon and leaned against the wall in front of the open window.
“You didn't help out this time, Ada - I'm a little offended.” Leon said, not bothering to project his voice. He couldn't see her yet, but he figured that she had to close by. She always was.
The small, exposed hanging lightbulb above the stairs leading up to floor three illuminated Ada as she walked down towards him. It had been years since he'd last seen her, but every time felt like the first time. She had the same small, lithe build, but age had put some softness on the curves of her body. She no longer walked with the tight control of a coiled spring, but instead moved with a fluidity that conveyed ease. Her hair was long now - past her shoulders - with the faintest shimmer of grey framing her face. She wore her usual form fitting dress over tights, this time a deep forest green rather than her signature red.
“You seemed to have it well in hand.” She stopped across from him on the landing and mirrored his position, leaning back against the stairwell railing.
“So what are you doing here, then?” He asked, crossing his arms. “Surely you didn't come here just to check on me.”
“What if I did?” She countered. “Want to check on you, that is.” Something in her voice and the way she looked at him seemed vulnerable. Almost like she cared. But there was also a tension in her features. He was an expert at studying her face now after all these years. He knew her tell - he couldn’t really describe it, but it was a subtle way that her face didn't match what she was trying to project.
The part of Leon that still carried a torch for her after all this time wanted to believe that she truly did care, but it had been years since he’d last seen her. He knew nothing of her motives this time and would not let her cloud his judgement as she often did. “Don't you think we're a little old for these games, Ada?”
Her signature smirk dropped. “Well, you’re no fun,” she replied. Her deep sigh cut through the stale air of the stairwell. The mask fell and he could see the faint lines on her forehead as her brows furrowed - he could tell she was wrestling with whether or not to say something. Her voice was lower, more deliberate and serious when she spoke next. “I have a problem and I…” she trailed off, “I have a theory about why I’m having this problem and if my theory is right, then you might be having the same problem too.”
Given that this was the closest he had ever seen Ada come to being truthful or forthcoming, he decided to bite. “I’m listening,” he said. He had never seen Ada like this before. So unsure, so vulnerable. She could barely look him in the eye. It was a far cry from the confident, unflappable woman he met so many years ago.
“Have you been having any skin issues lately?” She asked.
Leon froze. His body reacted before he could regulate himself. His back straightened and he could almost feel every muscle in his body get tight as he became overly aware of the spot on his neck he'd been trying to avoid looking at in the mirror. He didn’t even bother answering her question, and instead countered with another question of his own. “What’s your theory?”
She seemed frustrated with his response by the way her lips pressed into a firm line. Nonetheless she continued, “I think it could be a latent G-virus. I started noticing what I thought was a rash at first. I wasn’t sure what it was, but when my research on it led me back to the Birkins,” she stopped abruptly, seeming to consider how much she wanted to say. “Needless to say, I did some extensive research on other viruses and how they behave. I believe the G-Virus might be behaving similarly to something like HPV. We likely contracted the G-virus back in ‘98. It’s remained dormant all this time, but now, it’s showing back up.”
He didn’t respond right away, instead pausing to consider her words. He tried to recall all he knew about HPV from when he was in school, but it was all rather fuzzy now except for some of the highlights. If she was bothered by his prolonged silence, she didn’t show it, but when he spoke again, her head snapped up. Leon assumed she had been lost in thought herself. “So you’re saying we have the G-Virus equivalent to cervical cancer?”
She shrugged. “That is perhaps an oversimplification, but yes, in essence that is what I’m saying.”
“Have you asked any of the other survivors about this? Does anyone else know about your affliction or your theory?” Leon asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “You?”
“No,” he said. He had considered going to the doctor or confiding in someone he worked with, but given his work history and his general experience with scientists, he had thought better of it. “When did you discover this skin condition as you call it?” he asked.
“About 10 months ago. It started small, but has grown over time at a steady rate.”
“Where on your body is it?” he asked. It occurred to him after the words left his mouth that the question was a tad invasive. He half expected her to ignore him or perhaps shut him down.
The corners of her lips raised just the slightest amount. It wasn't even quite a smirk. “I'll show you mine if you show me yours”
Leon didn't even hesitate as he took off his jacket and started to lift his shirt. “You know, most ladies take me out to dinner before I start taking off my clothes,” he quipped back. Their banter was something he always loved about their interactions. Especially now, after so long in each other’s lives, it made him feel young again. It reminded him of the young, hopeful rookie he used to be.
She chuckled and shook her head. “How about a raincheck, handsome.”
Ada stepped closer into his space as he revealed the mangled patch of inflamed skin that covered his entire shoulder and had begun spreading up his neck. She lifted her hand tentatively, “Can I…” she asked, her hand moving closer.
Leon nodded before he could stop himself. Her soft, gentle hands touched him featherlight and Leon nearly jumped out of his skin from the contact. He couldn’t remember the last time another normal human person touched him at all, let alone with such a gentle touch. Ada paused and pulled her hand back. “Did I hurt you?” She asked.
Leon was taken aback by her genuine concern and took a moment to steady himself. “Uh-” he pulled his shirt down and put his jacket back on, aware now of the goosebumps up and down his arms from the contact. “No, no. Not at all. It doesn't hurt most of the time, not in the way I expected at least. I'm just so aware of it all the time, like it has its own mind or something.” Internally, he admonished himself for revealing so much to her. He'd never been that candid with anyone besides her. \
“Well, fair is fair,” she said with a sigh. She began to lift her dress, revealing that her tights only went thigh high, held up with a simple black garter. “I have had the same experience. It doesn't hurt, but it feels…alive. Like it has a mind of its own. I remember how William looked toward the end and I can’t stand the thought of ending up like that.” She unhooked the garter and rolled the thigh-high down to reveal a similar affliction that seemed to start at her mid-calf, making its way up her leg. It was to her knee now.
In the back of his mind, Leon wondered how a younger version of himself would have reacted to hearing Ada be this vulnerable and honest with him. Not to mention seeing her pull her tights and garter down her legs - that was an image he never thought he'd actually see. Not that he hadn't imagined it once or twice, but in his fantasies, it was under much different circumstances.
He bent down to be face to face with her exposed skin, trying to ignore how strong the scent of her perfume was when he was this close. He brushed a calloused thumb over the most gnarled part of the skin on the spot just below her knee. He heard a soft intake of breath from above him and looked up to see Ada’s face flushed slightly. He stood up quickly and she busied herself with fixing her tights.
He cleared his throat and leaned back up against the wall behind him. “So what made you want to come to me about this? And why would you assume it’s connected to the Racoon City incident?”
She crossed her arms and relaxed back against the railing of the staircase. “Honestly I don’t know. I guess after everything we’ve been through you would be one of the only people who would hear me out.” She refused to meet his eyes and Leon wondered if this was her first time being so honest right off the bat. She paused for a second before adding, “Or at least the only person who wouldn’t actually shoot me first.” She scoffed and shook her head. “As for why I assumed it was related to the Raccoon City incident, well…I mean, how could it not be? It’s the place that took everything from us, why not this too?” She went quiet after that and though there were no tears, the silence was thick and heavy with the weight of those words.
It occurred to Leon then that he really never bothered to ask or even wonder what her motivations for being a mercenary were. He mostly knew who she had worked for in their past missions, but he had always assumed that her motivations aligned with her employer. Despite their messy history, there was very little Leon actually knew about the woman standing before her now - not the mercenary, not the femme fatale she always projected, but the real person behind it all.
Leon acted before he could talk himself out of his next move. “Come here,” he said softly. Before she could protest, he pulled her into a hug. “I know. I'll help you figure this out. For both of us”
To his surprise, she melted into him. “Thank you, Leon.” She said softly.
“As it happens, I might actually need you for something.” Leon said, pulling away from the hug. He could've been imagining it, but it seemed like Ada was reluctant to let go.
“Oh?”
“Before I tell you, I'm going to ask you once and you are going to be truthful. Who are you working for right now?”
She shrugged. “I've got a few pans on the stove, but nothing is cooking.”
Leon's lips pressed into a line. “That isn't an answer, Ada.”
“It's the truth. I have some interested parties, but no contracts have been signed and no money has changed hands.” She held up her hands, “I promise, Leon.”
Leon did not necessarily believe her, but he didn't not believe her either. After all these years of their tangled up history - the lies, the manipulations, the trauma - this was the most he'd ever trusted her since he first met her. “Alright. I'm going to tell you something between us,” he said. He pulled out his phone and brought up the relevant briefing documents before handing it to her. “Alyssa Ashcroft is likely dead. She went back to Raccoon City to investigate some troubling leads at the Wrenwood Hotel. Now there have been reports of activity there. We suspect someone from Umbrella.”
“How do you know Alyssa might be dead?” Ada asked.
“Shortly before her trail went cold, DSO was sent a file from a burner email that contained all of her notes and evidence she had collected from the Wrenwood.”
“Did you trace the IP? What if it's someone pretending to be Ashcroft to lure you back there?” Ada asked as she studied the files on Leon's device.
“What, you think this is amateur hour?” Ada didn't look up from reading, but Leon continued anyway. “Tracing the IP was the first thing we did.”
Ada looked up. “And?”
“And it led to her last reported address, far from Racoon City. It was dated back to 2018, nearly 10 years ago, but the most recent document was from just three weeks ago.” Ada's brows furrowed and she looked back at the documents to confirm Leon's words. He continued, “At first, I didn't know what to make of it. But we did some digging into the meta data. Turns out, the email was triggered by someone attempting to hack into her hard drive. Our best guess? She's been on the trail for over a decade and when she went there, she might have been killed right away or they took her gear.”
“Why do we care about this? Alyssa Ashcroft is, or maybe was, a journalist. DSO has never been concerned with her before unless it was in response to something she published.” Ada handed Leon back his phone. “Why now?”
“It was all about Elpis.”
Ada's eyes went wide and she stepped back, catching herself on the railing behind her. “Elpis?”
“Yeah. I know.” Leon tucked his phone away. “So are you in?”
Ada nodded. She blew out a big breath. “Elpis is…” she trailed off. Going quiet, her eyes had a hazy look about them and Leon wondered briefly what little world he’d lost her too.
She snapped back to the present when he spoke again. “So, what's your rate then?”
“No offense Leon, but I really don't think you could afford my usual rate,” she said.
“Try me,” he replied, “besides, I don't want a discount. I want the full Ada Wong mercenary experience.” That last bit earned him another eye roll and very nearly a smile.
“How about I do this as a favor for an old friend?” She suggested. “Pro-bono, of course.”
Leon scoffed. “Is that what we are, Ada? Friends?”
Ada put her hand to her chest in mock offense. “You don’t think we’re friends? After 30 years together?”
Leon tried to ignore how the way she said ‘30 years together’ made him feel. “If we’re going to work together and possibly be friends, then we need to put some of the past behind us. I don’t want to waste time trying to decipher your motives. If you’re with me, then you’re with me and no one else. Got it?
“So you are the jealous type,” she mused. “I always wondered that about you.”
“I need to hear you say it, Ada.” He crossed his arms tightly and did his best to look imposing, making himself taller and broader. He deflated a bit when she seemed unfazed.
He began to hear the sound of helicopter blades in the distance and Ada took this opportunity to hop behind him and lean in the open window frame. “Looks like your ride is here, handsome.” Before he could protest and demand her answer again, she leaned down and kissed his cheek before handing him a card. “You’ll be my only guy until the end, okay?”
Usually, Leon would have found some way to have the last word as he always tried to do in their interactions, but he found that her choice in words left him speechless. She always knew how to make him feel like an unsure rookie again, even now, at their age.
She pulled out her grappling gun and shot it into a nearby pillar. “Just call the number on that card when you’re heading out and I’ll coordinate a time and place to be there.”
She didn’t give him time to even think of a response before she zoomed out of the window and into the dark night. He looked down at the card she gave him. It was a simple sleek business card that read:
Ada Wong
Securities and Retrieval Specialist
212-015-7784
This was going to be one hell of a job. Leon ran up the stairs and climbed the ladder for roof access. The chopper was close now, but he had a few moments to spare. Out of curiosity, he took out his binoculars and looked out towards the water's edge in the distance. He could see the faint outline of Ada's form getting into a small speedboat - a very typical Ada getaway. He shook his head. “Women.”