The Executioner

BOOK TWO: Elige te Ipsum

Episode 12: Split in Two

Amparo, 2002

Hidalgo wasn't ready to let them go.

The sun set in waves of gold and red on a horizon stained gray with coming rain. It smelled of gasoline and gunpowder and death in the dying light. The thing that had once been Manuela's father rose above them in horrific tableau from a bad movie.

Jack and Jill scattered up the hill behind them like their namesakes. Leon tackled Manuela in a brave move as the clawed leg of Hidalgo made a desperate move to merge them together forever. The thing about the Veronica virus, Leon thought as they rolled, was that it was always seeking to bond with its own. Ashford had been a queen of a hive in way, seeking to reanimate the dead and restore herself to the power over her workers.

Hidalgo's mutated form wanted to claim his daughter and bind them into one beast. It wanted to spear her and bleed her, bathing in the power she revealed with each piece of her humanity that withered away. Desperate, Manuela shouted as they rolled, "Oh, Leon! Let me die! I'm ready!"

And he warned her, "I'm not! He can't have you, Manuela! He doesn't have the right! Stay with me here and fight!"

Her face lit with some kind of emotion he couldn't make sense as they rolled to a stop on the dirty ground. She touched a finger to the dip in his chin and smiled softly, "...so brave. How can you be so brave? We will all die here."

Leon clutched her face and urged, "Maybe we will, but not now. Get up and run, Manuela! RUN!"

He tossed her to her feet and she grabbed his hand to run beside him as another leg struck the ground where they'd lain moments before. She called, feet flying, "Get in close to him! He will be soft underneath!"

Right.

Underneath they were always soft.

Leon shouted, "Jack! Jill -get inside it's attack zone!"

Jack's voice echoed back, "Sure thing! Why not? Want me to hug it while I'm in there!?"

It was taller than a skyscraper and covered in bone and boiling sinew. It's face was part plant, part beast reminding Leon of a story his grandmother had told him once about the wendigo that stalked the plains of Northern Canada. Leon tossed Manuela behind a shipping container and commanded, "Stay down! Stay out of sight!"

She grabbed for his arm to tug him with her. The move made him flustered with frustration, "I need to go fight this Ma-"

She grabbed his vest and shoved him out of the way as a rain of acid spilled around them. His eyes were closed and his arms around her like he'd cover her somehow, when he realized that the world was melting around them...but that they were just fine. His eyes opened to find Manuela had lifted her arm above them like a shield. An arc of light and fire spread over them as if they were beneath a rainbow.

Softy, he intoned, "..Manuela...are you-"

"I'm still here." She spoke with an almost reverence as she listened to the heavy gunfire beyond the container of their cavalry and told him, "...I know how to stop him...follow me, Leon..I will protect you."

Without a choice, he raced after her toward the battle. She paused, shouting to Jill and Jack to follow her lead as she lifted her arm and a blast of fire struck one of the legs of the thing that tried to kill them. They started firing into the smoking joint as Manuela hunched in pain and tried to find her breath again.

Jill scaled one of the legs while Jack and Leon split its focus to keep it from killing anyone. They fell into a game of cat and mouse. It followed, they ducked, Manuela weakened it and Jill would finish the job of splitting the joint to ruin the leg when they blew apart the kneecap from the ground.

When it finally collapsed to the ground, Leon finished off the screaming and pleading face of Hidalgo with a heavy bladed jab to the face. It shrieked, cut short from its death rattle by the silencing slice of those vocal chords, and it died twitching on the ground in a pool of widening blood. Jack sagged against the closest container with a hand pressed to his bleeding arm and a grimace of pain.

Jill set up a flare to signal their escape plan was in process.

Manuela, shaking with weakness, collapsed to her hands and knees in the dirt. Without a word, Leon lifted her into his arms. She curled against his chest and was out like a light, shivering as sleep took her down and kept her there.

The silence was loud as they found their way to the evacuation site via a predetermined route in the jungle. Jill was suitably impressed with the strength it took for Leon to carry the girl in his arms and not flag. He seemed unfazed by the added weight.

The helicopter ride out of the jungle was done in silence. Jack kept to himself nursing his arm and cleaning it to bind it. Jill sat across from Leon watching him watch her. When she glanced at Manuela who was asleep beside him with her head on his thigh, he arched a brow.

Jill arched hers in return.

Leon rolled his eyes. Jill smirked and shrugged a shoulder. A whole conversation, it seemed, with just looks.

He stuck with Manuela until she was safely in the research hospital in Zurich. As far as the doctor's could tell, embracing the virus had somehow retarded it's progression. Manuela was, officially, the first human to have successfully merged with the T-Veronica virus and maintained mortality. It was something that required further research and testing to substantiate, but Manuela was unwilling to stay in the hospital without some promises from him.

He told her, "I will come see whenever I can."

The girl chewed her lip, looking nervous and scared, "...I won't be a test subject, yes? I won't stay here for that."

He crouched in front of her and her hands shifted to his face. Curious, Jill watched from the skyway above them. It was interesting to see how gentle he was with the girl. She wouldn't exactly call it brotherly, but there was some kind of softness on him for Manuela.

She almost asked about it but she didn't have to. Indirectly, Yoko Suzuki - the doctor put in charge of Manuela's care- filled in the blanks. "They say he was the same with Sherry Birkin when they located them outside of Raccoon."

Jill glanced at her and Yoko nodded, "He was like a wolf protecting her. The rumors say they had to use her to blackmail him into serving."

Jill felt something shiver in her belly. "Hmm...protective."

"Yes," Yoko laughed lightly, "He's an odd man. He's...a little cold and kind of closed off, but not with her. Manuela really responds to him."

That part was easy to figure out. It was hero worship from a girl to a beautiful man who'd protected her at risk to himself. She was repelled by Krauser, but seemed smitten with Leon in a way that was somehow refreshingly adorable. She was just hoping he was aware of it, so he could divert that affection before it became a young girl's painful crush.

In the courtyard, Leon promised Manuela, "I won't let that happen. Stay here, be safe, get better - and I will find you a place to live that is worthy of you."

Manuela smiled happily and leaned forward. He thought - shit- and she pressed a kiss to his mouth. Of course, he wasn't a fool, he knew that's the way the wind blew for the girl, but she'd forget him soon enough for a boy her own age. She practically glowed with happiness, "You will live there too, yes? Together?"

Yikes.

Leon shook his head, "...I can't. I'm not your father or your brother, Manuela. I'm a grown man and you're a girl. We can't live together like that."

She shook her head, denying that, and let go of him when he rose to say, "...in two years, I will be a grown woman. Then we can. You will treat me like a woman then. Promise?"

She was something else. He smiled, charmed somehow at the determination, and shrugged, "Why not? In two years, if I'm still kicking, I'll stop treating you like a girl."

It was a harmless enough promise. He would never take advantage of a girl this age. She was somehow, despite everything, innocent and sweet and pure. She carried a virus in her that could have made her a monster, and yet she was still hopeful and soft. She'd have to deal with all the girls that died to keep her alive, and she would in time, but she was already thinking of the future.

When had he stopped thinking of his own? Life times ago, it seemed. He discovered that he was reluctant to leave her, which amused him greatly, as her youthful exuberance was somehow addictive. She radiated a kind of strength that made him feel better somehow just being near her. Like Sherry, she'd held on to some kind of beautiful sweetness that would carry her forward, hopefully, to some kind of normal life.

It just wasn't a life she'd ever share with him. He was hoping, as time went on, she'd discover it was better for her to find a man who could give her a family and a life. Once the shine of a savior wore off, she'd forget her affection for him.

He was positive.

He promised to see her before he left for his next assignment. She reluctantly said goodbye. When Leon found himself on the cold street, it was interesting to feel the chill emanate beyond the sky and into his bones.

Apparently, it wouldn't be long before he forgot how it felt to hold onto hope soon enough.

He was just out of the shower in his hotel room and flipping on the news when the knock on his door drew him over. A look through the peephole didn't show Krauser, it showed Jill. Jack was staying in the hospital like Manuela while they'd tested his arm to see the extent of the damage. The early results almost guaranteed he was going to lose function in it, which would effectively end his career in the military.

When they'd parted, Jack had cursed him, "You stupid bastard, this is what happens when we do it your way. You've made me a goddamn cripple."

Surprised, Leon had queried, "...me? Maybe karma made you a cripple, Jack. Get a hobby and a life. Retire. Find a nice woman, avoid forcing yourself on her, and make a family."

Krauser had scoffed and turned away angrily, declaring, "This isn't the last time we'll dance, Kennedy - mark my words."

Oh, he had no doubt. He was almost looking forward to the battle of the ages with the other man. He wanted to see who'd survived the last few years and come out better. He was really hoping Krauser found him to push the issue.

Leon opened the door with the towel around his waist. Jill, in a pair of men's boxers and a white t-shirt, greeted, "...you always answer the door naked?"

He shrugged, "The important shit is covered. What can I do for you, Jill?"

Her mouth twitched with humor as she answered, "A loaded question...I thought maybe we could find out how dead inside you are."

The amusement on her was like a warm wave across his body. He tilted his head. She flashed her teeth and lifted the bottle of whiskey in her hand, "What do ya say?"

He simply lifted his arm, pushed the door wide, and let her duck under it.

He woke in the moonlight to her atop him. His hands found her hips and skimmed up her belly to her breasts. He watched her ride, fascinated with her as one might be with a siren from the sea in the swirling fog and silver shadows. His body was happy to fill hers, the length of his erection snuggled inside of her cunt like a warm, wet hug.

She'd poured two shots, shared the firey flavor of it in a kiss, and taken his towel. The first time, he'd turned her face against the wall to fuck her from behind. The second time, she'd made him take it from her in a pseudo battle on the balcony. The soft version of a brawl had turned them both on.

He'd had her on her back on the table in the cold.

He watched her rise and fall above him, beautiful and cool. Those eyes would probably haunt him long after she was gone. He only knew that he felt something heady near her. She called to a part of him that had probably died out a long time ago.

It was the part that reminded him that you could escape White and still feel human. She was. She was human. She laughed. She teased. She tumbled into bed and made it wonderful somehow - simple. It was all feelings and fresh skin and sex.

Leon sat up to let her sink into his lap completely. He fisted her hair to draw her neck into a swan like arch. He memorized her face when she came around him, wetly, the orgasm making both their laps sticky. He'd never forget her. He was sure of that.

She smelled like lavender.

She kissed him, slick and hot, letting his tongue and hers twirl inside her mouth. Her body seized, his conquered, and she swallowed his groan like she swallowed his cum.

It would be stupid to say he was surprised to find Jill gone when he woke. He'd figured, more than once, that this was a one night stand for her. Ironically, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

He wanted to say he felt used, but even that was wrong. He felt, somehow, like she'd fled from her own feelings. It was oddly satisfying to check out with the knowledge that she'd run from him for the same reasons he'd chased her - to feel something. She wanted to avoid it, he wanted to savor the memory of it.

He wore the white t-shirt she'd left behind to smell like her.

Gusland, Guam - 2003

The aid station was packed with desperately thirsty survivors.

A long day and a longer night predicated the collapse of an entire community. Claire and TerraSave were on site dealing with the fallout. Leon, sipping water, watched the redhead coordinate the evacuation of the living and the treatment of the dying.

There was no stopping the T-Virus that laid waste before they'd ever arrived. A short jump to attempt a hail marry savior of the small town was wasted. He'd arrived in time to bury the dead and eradicate the infected.

Claire, still holding onto that hope of hers that was infectious, was fighting for a small set of children who'd lost their parents. They were trying to remand the pair to custody of the state and make them wards, and Claire was doggedly battling for permission to keep them herself until a foster family was located. The logistics of it was met with disdain on both sides as the redhead shouted, "They are fucking traumatized! They need someone who understands that! You think a goddamn group home will get it!?"

He watched her, considering, and most often he avoided the conflict of inserting himself into other's business but part of him knew Claire would lose the battle if he didn't. He set down the water in his hand and crossed the sweaty sand to join her where she was toe to toe with a formidable woman in a black suit. Claire, in a tank top and camo fatigues with her nicely muscled arms slick with dirt and soot, looked small somehow and young. She wasn't. She'd aged quickly post Raccoon and now was a veritable lioness of the long suffering for her humanitarian organization.

She'd put down the gun and picked up a clipboard, offering herself like a healer in a land of the dying. She worked with anyone, anywhere to help ease the suffering of those who had no hope. She was the Mother Teresa to her brother's Stormin Norman. He kicked asses, and Claire saved them.

Leon and Chris were not, it seemed, destined to be friendly. Whenever they were in the same place, it was clear that the elder Redfield reviled him for his earlier treatment of their relationship. Claire, however, was never bitter. She was always friendly, always kind, and always willing to help.

As Leon joined her, the woman demanded, "You'd be best served handing them over, Mrs. Redfield. We can get a court order, however, if you need compelled. Perhaps you should consult mister Redfield before you agree to bring home children to his home."

Claire spat, "It's MS, you snot nosed bitch, as I'm not married. Mr. Redfield is my brother. You want these kids? You get that court order and then you'll come over my dead body to take them."

Leon, casually, laid a hand on her arm and invited, "Maybe this is where we take a minute to breathe. Take a walk, Claire."

She gave him a filthy look, started to protest, and finally turned on her heel to head back to the tent. Leon, turning back to the woman, gestured and remarked, "Let's do the same, Mrs...?"

"...Weatherby." She gave him a cool look, "...You are?"

"I'm the man in charge. Let's see how we make your day a little easier."

Twenty seconds later, he crossed by Claire in the tent and told her, "She's agreed to temporary custody for you." He patted her back.

Claire, grabbing his wrist to halt him, enthused, "Really!? What did you say!?"

He shrugged and answered, "I can be persuasive when I want. Turns out, not shouting has a way of working when you try."

She gave him an amused look and remarked, "Maybe, but I like the passion of a good fight...but I remember the persuasive thing. Leon...you're a goddamn wizard with women. Thank you."

He winked and turned. She grabbed his back pocket and halted him again. Curious, he looked over his shoulder and Claire invited, "...how about dinner? As a thank you?"

He should say no, but he enjoyed Claire's unpretentious simplicity. So he smiled, "Why not?"

They had three drinks and dinner. They talked, as they were good at, with Claire leading the charge with her stories about life in the slow lane. She teased him, referring to the whispers of his love affair with some female head of Tricell.

He assauged that with a chuckle, "I'm fairly sure she can do better."

Claire smiled sweetly and soothed, "Awww. She dump you?"

He laughed, shrugging, "...it might have gone like that if I'd asked. I don't ask."

She grinned, "Oh, I remember. It's always the woman with you. You ever, in your whole life, asked a woman to bed?"

Leon simply snorted. Claire, laughing, invited, "You know what...in the interest of saving time...you wanna go to bed with me?"

Surprised, he paused with his drink halfway to his mouth, "What about your children?"

She laughed, eyes twinkling, "I'm not talking about a sleep over, Kennedy. I'm talking about sex. I'm asking you to take me somewhere, right now, and fuck me."

Her mouth always made him laugh. He grinned, shaking his head, "You know how this ends for us, Claire."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "It's sex, Leon, not marriage. We gave that a shot, it failed. I'm talking about a good old fashioned throw down. No strings, no drama, no worries - you game?"

He was. He never really said no unless the woman was married or messy. Sex was, and would always be, good for the body. Claire was never condoms optional, so he gloved up to fuck her.

It wasn't the classiest of encounters, as he it happened in a bathroom with the door locked and her ass on the vanity, but it's what she wanted. It left them both in good spirits to finish the work. She said goodbye to him in the sand and shook her head, "...I think you're probably bad for me, Kennedy."

He laughed and shrugged, "Probably. I can't think of a single reason I'd be good for anyone."

She gave him a sad look and remarked, "Maybe that's why you'll never be happy."

Without humor, he informed her, "I'll never be happy because I'm dead inside."

She rolled her eyes and backed up, hurrying toward her waiting convoy, "Bullshit - you're not dead inside, you're scared. Underneath that pretty face and perfect hair, you're just a guy whose terrified to take a chance on a real life. The day you stop running, you're gonna find out love isn't a filthy word after all."

He called back, "I tried to love you, Claire! The best I knew how!"

She laughed, eyes sparkling, "Your best sucks, Kennedy, but at least I got halfway there. I'm gonna bet no other girl ever will."

She leaped into the side door of a Jeep and added, "Next time I see you, I'm gonna hope you're not looking like someone murdered your cat. Smile - it increases your mood!"

He watched her go, chuckling. It was hard to be down when Claire was around. She just joked you right out of your sorrow. He knew, if he'd ever really been capable of love, he'd have loved her for that. As it stood, he was grateful to still have her in his life.

As long as he kept things simple, he'd never lose her.

Apparently she was right, at the core of it, he was nothing more than a coward.

Kings Crossing, Idaho - 2003

He was almost asleep when the phone rang.

Leon's hand slid over and lifted it. The unknown number made him squint as he answered.

The voice on the other end didn't. It was Jill, "...Jack's dead."

He blinked, eyeing the darkness around him, "...what?"

Her voice came again, "He's dead. He showed up. He tried to help himself. I made sure he'll never get any again. I just...wanted you to know."

The quiet stretched between them. Finally, she spoke first, "...you there?"

His voice was gruff, "I'm here. I'm sorry I didn't kill him after Columbia. He touch you?"

She didn't answer at first. It was curious that he could still feel the first stirring of rage. He asked it again, "He touch you?"

Her voice was harsh, "...yeah. He got what he wanted and then he got what was coming to him. He'd have gotten more, but I got there first. I left him floating in the river outside of St. Louis. You can get his fucking body if you want and say goodbye."

The anger made his voice hard, "...he went to ground. I tried to find him, but after he was dismissed from duty-"

Jill spoke tightly, "Not your fault. I tried too. I thought he was gone. I let my guard down. He made sure I understood to never let that happen again. Check on Manuela, Leon...me? I'll survive Jack Krauser."

"...what do you need? What can I do?"

Her breath was choppy, "Don't...don't offer. I'm-I'm fine. I'm ok. I'm too fucking fragile to see you and fall apart like some pathetic mess. I can handle this. It's over. It's done. I just...make sure he didn't get to Manuela too...it's good to hear your voice Leon."

The line clicked off.

Leon lay in the dark fuming. It was a pathetic piece of shit that forced himself on a woman. He'd known, always, that Jack was a man who took the spoils of victory. He'd waited nearly eighteen months to track down Jill and get his revenge.

The dreams chased him in circles picturing her fighting for her life, losing, and ending up face down on a table while Krauser raped her. Whatever seventh circle of hell he inhabited, it wasn't far enough down. He was hoping Krauser was roasting for all eternity.

By the time he got a team out to the river, Krauser's body was gone. Washed away, inevitably, by the Mighty Mississippi. Manuela was safe in the well guarded little community he'd placed her in after her release from the hospital. The bodyguards he'd hired made sure she was kept that way.

The river had taken the remains of Jack Krauser and swept him away toward the sea to be swallowed into obscurity.

He was hoping, somehow, the same thing might happen to the stain of what he'd left behind.