Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Code: Project AURORA	By : DeadlyFriend Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 2946 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil. I do not own the characters and I do not make any money or profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Title: Code: Project AURORA chapter 8
Author: Judyku A03, DeadlyFriend FFnet/Sunnyjude LJ
Summary: Smart viruses are a helluva thing.
Genre: Drama, horror, romance, smut, and humour.
Pairings: Claire/Leon, Chris/Jill, with implications of others.
Rating: NC21. Explicit sex in later chapters. Bad, bad language. Scenes of explicit violence and gore.
Warnings: Character death. Implied alcohol abuse. Implied child abuse. Cannibalism.
Original Characters: Lakshan Bhandari, a 33-year-old genius who works at Johns Hopkins, a biomedical engineer with a background in virology and Infectious Diseases. Creator of the C-Veronica Zero smart virus. Tyrannos, a T-103 Tyrant programmed to be Claire's bodyguard.

Hot Wears Dirty Panties.
xxx
Smoke clouded out in front of her as she leaned back in the plush seat, one shapely leg slid over the other and she offhandedly watched her toes flex.
The split in her skirt attracted quite a lot of attention from the pliable sex, who were more than willing to overlook any sin. So long as there was the promise of even just a taste of easy sex, men were often happy to fulfil her needs.
A drink or intelligence, it didn’t particularly matter to them and the only thing which mattered to her was a successful outcome to her mission. And if the way to success was to screw, then so be it. After all, the mix of business with pleasure always sweetened the deal at the end of the day and she couldn’t complain.
Ada Wong lazily stirred her martini with a cocktail stick as she listened to a grown man weep and sniffle over a telephone.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, doctor Matiass.” She twirled the thin wooden stick between her fingers. “Yes, I remember how much you love your Countess. How such a man as doctor Bhandari would kidnap her from you. You must be so terribly worried for her safety.”
As expected, the wretched man put an end to his ridiculous snivelling the moment she mentioned the safety of another. Any woman would thank her lucky stars to land a catch like Aric Matiass.
“He burned everything…” The man sobbed in great, big sobs that heaved like nails on a chalkboard.
Ada felt her humour slip from her face at this. “What do you mean he burned everything?”
“Everything. Gone. He set fire to the laboratory and destroyed all of the notes and research. She must be returned, Mz Wong. I am unable to live without her. I am truly nothing without her.” Matiass once again broke down into a tsunami of tears.
Her hand squeezed the phone receiver tightly and she stared straight ahead, unimpressed. Everything on the Veronica smart virus now only existed in the head of Lakshan Bhandari. The host, if still alive, could be used to provide samples in the form of DNA and blood. If the heroic doctor hadn’t contaminated the host, of course.
Fuck.
Wesker would be furious.
“While I would dearly love to be of assistance to you, doctor Matiass,” Ada took a drag of her cigarette and rolled her foot. “Finding people is not my forte.”
The man blubbed incessantly. “But you must, Mz Wong. You simply must help me. The Countess… Me… Oh, please won’t you help me. I have lost everything.”
She leaned away when the man blew his nose and rolled her eyes. To think, someone, somewhere, at some point in history, had slept with this moron. “Doctor Matiass, while I did acquire your prior samples of both the T-Veronica Zero 2 and the C-Virus, I’m not entirely sure of your expectations…”
There was a short pause and then…
“Wahhhhhhh…” The wail, she was pretty damn sure, hit a note not yet discovered by bats. “I will pay you, Mz Wong. Two million dollars cash on the safe return of my dearest Veronica.”
Ada’s eyebrows arched with extreme interest. Two million dollars in cash could buy many things. Like her invaluable assistance for one. “That is an awfully big sum, doctor Matiass. You place a lot of trust in me.”
She could hear his bones creak as he nodded and the change in his demeanour was so quick, so abrupt, it disturbed her. That the fellow was psychotic was no surprise to her, but the manner in which he went from one extreme to another simply wasn’t right.
“Oh yes, Mz Wong. I admire you very much. And we have had three mutually beneficial engagements, have we not?”
“Yes, sir. We certainly have. Allow me to again thank you for your creation. The pheromones have served me extremely well.” Ada made sure to inject a smile into her reply.
Ego oozed out of the speaker holes in the phone. “I did create them myself, you know. I was one of the founding researchers of the true Umbrella Pharmaceuticals group.”
“I recall, doctor.” How could she forget?
“Excellent, excellent.” All he needed was to add the name Smithers and he would be good to go.
She inspected her manicure, mildly impressed with the apex placement. Truly, acrylic nails were a godsend for ladies in her line of work. “I’ll need a name and current photograph of the host, doctor.”
“I think the name will suffice, Mz Wong.” There was a pause and a sound that she didn’t even want to think about. “Mz Claire Redfield.”
It was only a lifetime of experience that kept the phone in Ada’s hand and she slowly sat upright, any and all traces of indulgence gone.
Matiass wouldn’t be that stupid, would he? Surely he would have more sense than to target Claire Redfield, sister of hardass BSAA operative, Chris Redfield.
Chris Redfield was the other type of man. The type who couldn’t be swayed or manipulated. He trusted his gut over evidence and was often proved to be right. He was too unpredictable.
The most frightening trait of Chris Redfield was that he didn’t shoot to kill. He shot to disable .
He would take out both kneecaps and the gun hand to leave his enemy defenceless. Unable to fight back, unable to move, unable to betray. He did it without a hint of remorse or a shred of what it meant to be human.
To say Chris Redfield put the shits up her was a fucking understatement.
“I… See.” Her red lips closed around her cigarette and she took the hit straight to her lungs. Held it until the nicotine burned the membrane off of her organs. Unfortunately, the pain may have made her eyes water, but it did nothing to move her into a reality where Matiass wasn’t so goddamn stupid .
“She was the most suitable to host The Countess. A very charming young lady. Uncommonly beautiful.”
Ada exhaled as her gaze glanced at her second phone as it lit up.
“I’ll be in touch.” She disconnected one and answered the other.
“Darling.”
“Bertie…”
xxxx
Sometimes Lakshan truly wished he was a violent man. A stronger, more aggressive man. A man who commanded respect by way of presence alone. A man who could knock, to quote his best childhood mate, ten bells of shite out of somebody.
Instead, he was a born and bred pacifist. A quiet man who only commanded respect from his peers. A man who couldn’t for the life of him turn a closed fist into a weapon against someone else.
A closed fist could knock on a door for example or win a stuffed toy on the fairground sideshow attraction. A closed fist also held things in a protective cocoon of knuckles and phalanges. Such as the trap and release of a bee or spider.
So many uses and yet so many chose to see only a weapon.
That wasn’t to say Lakshan didn’t understand the reaction of Claire’s brother, Chris. He understood it quite well, in truth. It simply would have been far less painful if Captain Redfield had introduced himself before the fisticuffs flew.
Agent Kennedy, on the other hand.
He recognised the name of Leon Kennedy, only he couldn’t think as to where he knew it from, but no matter. He supposed it would spring to mind eventually. Particularly as it seemed Claire’s friends and family clearly weren’t going to make a move until she did, and that would put them all in close quarters for a few days at least.
A heavy knock was followed by the voice of Captain Redfield himself.
“It’s me, doctor Bhandari. The presumptuous jackass.”
Lakshan stared at his swollen face in the mirror. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“You got a sec?”
A lack of violent nature did not mean he was a pushover. “Bit busy at the moment. Cleaning blood off my face.”
Silence reigned for a moment.
“Look, uh.” Three dull thuds came from outside the bathroom. “I’m not too good with apologies. So there you have it, doc. I shouldn’t have raged at you the way I did.”
Lakshan rinsed the face cloth under the cold water and rang out the excess. Those were not the words of a man like Chris Redfield. “Claire tell you to say that?”
No hesitation. “Yep.”
“Then you’re not sorry.” He grabbed the clean t-shirt and slipped it on, mindful of the oedema that slowly increased in size around his eye. “I never expected you to be sorry, Captain. More forthcoming with your identification would have been preferable. We didn’t know it was you outside of that door.”
And you, Captain, don’t realise just how much bloody danger you were in. If I hadn’t knocked Claire onto her arse when I did, you could be dead on the doorstep for all I know.
“We expected five kidnappers.”
Lakshan pulled the door open at that. “How on Earth did you get that?”
Chris rested a broad shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms. “Four signature crispy chicken sandwiches, one large chicken and bacon ranch pizza, four hot dogs, four corndogs, a salad, and a Baby Ruth bar. Then a second order for one large meat feast pizza.”
The doctor inwardly cringed. “That would do it.”
“Yep. A funny thing happened on the way here.” The Captain adjusted his stance. “Jill. She was attacked by a tree root. Came right out of the ground. Went right at her. It was the damndest thing.”
Being employed by a psychopath was quite handy when it came to helping him lock down any and all surprise.
Lakshan intentionally jolted his eyebrows. “Quite strange that. Can’t say I’ve experienced anything of the sort here before.”
“I’ve seen it before. Few years back in Antarctica of all places.” Chris stared him down, his face wholly unreadable. “Just thought I’d make a mention of it. You know, since this is a ski lodge. Something like that would be bad for business.”
Lakshan said nothing in response for a moment. That the man clearly had a hunch was crystal clear, yet it wasn’t his place to either confirm or deny those suspicions. “I’ll keep it in mind, Captain.”
Silence ticked by, only broken by the other man’s sigh of surrender.
“You’re not gonna tell me anything, are you?”
“Can’t.” Lakshan stuck to his guns. “Doctor and patient confidentiality. Plus, she’s my mate. Anything she says to me will die with me unless she says otherwise.”
A ghost of a smile flashed once on the face of Chris Redfield. “I fuckin’ hate respecting assholes like you, doc. I want to beat the shit out of you, but... You’re looking out for my sister.”
What he could say, however, was something he hoped would bring the man even a hint of comfort.
“It’s not personal, Captain. You must understand that.” He paused as he considered just how much to say. “Aric Matiass is human. I think that’s a big part of Claire’s struggle right now. Matiass is also extremely sick in a manner I find difficult to acknowledge.”
Captain Redfield’s lips formed complete contempt. “I suppose he thinks it’s justification.”
The doctor shook his head. “Bloody bastard doesn’t know he has it.”
“Has what?”
Revulsion curdled deep in Lakshan’s stomach and he hoped to Sheva the Captain wouldn’t make him speak on it further. “Kuru.”
Chris’ sharp intake of breath was only equalled by the flash of horror that flickered quickly through his gaze.“H-he didn’t get to her.”
“No.” Lakshan took a moment to pull himself together. “I got her out before she was subjected to any of that.”
“Christ.” The man scuffed a hand over his beard, then clapped a hand on the doctor’s shoulder. Everything about the fellow was sincere. “And you, doc? You’re doing good? My intel said you’ve been there two years give or take.”
Two years?
Was that how long it had been?
Two bloody years?
His generous brain supplied him with all the months, weeks, hours, and minutes that he’d spent, trapped and under the thumb of a bloody monster. Not to forget a good chunk of that was spent on the cultivation of friendships for the sake of his own sanity. Sanity which slipped through his fingers each time he looked at his patient.
The exhaustion came out of nowhere and left him faint, almost dizzy from the shock of how much of his life had been wasted. His body sagged hard against the wall as his breath became rapid and shallow.
“Whoa there, doc. Up you get. That’s it. Coupla deep breaths.”
Lakshan ran a hand down his mouth and let Captain Redfield put his back against the wall. His chest didn’t half bloody hurt and he leaned down on his thighs while he got the panic attack under some semblance of control.
He focused on Chris until the world finally stood still. “Bollocks. Bloody fucking bollocks .”
“That’s the spirit.” Chris approved. “Cuss it out. Less yark on my boots this way.”
It hurt to laugh, but Lakshan laughed until he coughed out a wheeze. The lighter atmosphere between them brought with it a mutual understanding.
The Captain shook his head and Claire’s quirky grin appeared when the man tilted his head.
Lakshan held out his hand, pleased when the fellow took the olive branch. “I doubt you’ll like me much by the end of it, Captain. Lakshan.”
“Chris.” Chris’ smile appeared only to turn bitter, angry. “I’ve been there, doc. I know the right thing can’t always be done. You gotta do what you gotta do. You got my sister out. In one piece.”
“Oh. Oh, bloody hell…” The doctor’s skin positively crawled at the man’s implication. “You sick bastard!”
Chris simply clapped his shoulder and strode back down the hall, gruff laughter and all.
xxxx
Claire looked up just as her brother returned with her doctor on his heels, one shook with laughter and the other looked downright ill. While she’d tried not to eavesdrop too much in order to give her brother a chance to do right by Lakshan, she had picked up his gross joke.
Still, the clear air between her big brother, her hero, and the man who saved her life took the weight of the world off her shoulders. Then she looked to Jill, who still looked chagrined but more relaxed as a whole.
Claire waved off the earlier moment and received a simple nod of acknowledgement.
“Just keeping the girls in the loop.” Barry waggled his phone.
The image of both Sherry and Moira formed a wave of happiness that overrode every undercurrent of torment that flowed through her veins. “Tell them I can’t wait to see them and we’ll go shopping or something. Maybe a weekend to New York with Jill and I, even.”
Claire turned her high hopes onto her brother’s fiance, whose face expressed so much distaste that she had to chuckle.
“You don’t wear half the shit you own.” Jill rolled her eyes but accepted the fact it was a done deal. “Just you and me and the girls. I know some people who can get us Mets tickets.”
Hot tears pricked at her eyes and a nudge to her shoulder had the baby blues of Leon Kennedy and oh. She didn’t see a man with a hardened heart, but that rookie cop from so long ago. The one who got her through a nightmare.
A brush of warmth slowly penetrated her skin and she swallowed as his thumb traced the back of her hand until her fingers flexed. Her eyes closed when one good tug sent her face first into him, his arms wrapped around her good and tight.
Strong fingers fisted the shit out of her hair and Leon pulled back just far enough to press his forehead down on hers. “Christ, kid. Ten fuckin’ weeks.”
“Longer than my usual vacations, I know.”
“Your hair is so long now. Soft.” Leon’s breath ghosted over her nose and his palm slid down to cup her jaw, his fingers still tangled in her hair.
And there it was.
To talk about her new hair length would only make way for more questions, and she simply wasn’t ready for that yet. Jill’s reaction to her brother’s implication still plagued her mind.
She shrugged and eased away until she sat, legs curled and comfortably tucked into the crook of the sofa. All her family could be seen from this angle.
Leon stared at her for a moment before he shook his head. He wiggled his fingers at her, then dove his hand down to where he gripped her ankle. He grinned, so pleased with himself. “Hand cuff.”
“C plus, B minus.” Claire pushed his thigh with her toes and poked out her tongue, her gaze went from each member of her family. She supposed it was now or never. At least now was the time to tell the easy part.
The rest would have to wait until the story was straight between Lakshan and herself.
She sighed and went to the start of it all. “I was...”
Claire fixed the wheel in place and took the time to double check the hydro-dipped design. There were no air bubbles, the image had no smears and nor were there any signs of any other defects or mistakes, so she was good to go.
Def Leppard faintly came from her iPod player and if there was one song in the universe that deserved the word loud, it was Pour Some Sugar On Me. She grinned as she pressed the volume up button until Joe Elliott's voice went straight between her legs.
Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light
Television lover, baby, go all night
Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet
Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah…
One clean pair of nitrile gloves later saw her with the clear coat in hand as she poured it into her mixer, then mixed in her custom candy. A shade of lilac that would be fucking spectacular over chrome. Into her spray gun it went, the mask went on her face, and off she went, mind full of first place at the D.C Custom Cruisers competition next month.
Claire worked fluidly, expertly, as she directed the flow from her spray gun over the alloy until the first coat was done. A half hour of dry time would be long enough for a cup of coffee before she went in to finish the detail.
“Miss Claire Redfield?” Came the voice of a potential customer.
She slipped off her mask and turned, surprised to see three men in her garage. Last time three men in suits appeared like this? She ended up in a four-season contract with Ducati. “Hi, there! How can I help you two fine gentlemen?”
One of the men, no older than forty, moved to stand in front of her with his hand held out for her to shake. “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is you’re coming with us.
Her peripheral vision caught sight of the third man with the remote control to her garage and a second later, the mechanical door began to lower.
Claire started and subtly inched to where the wheel table stood. A table that held a good few impromptu weapons. Like her heavy duty pipe wrenches, for example. “What is this?”
“If we may have a moment of your time?” His grin was feral and his teeth reminded her of polished white porcelain.
She didn’t stop to think anything more. Just snatched her biggest and heaviest pipe wrench as fast as she could and built momentum with one fast spin.
Solid metal collided with his skull and ruptured the fucker wide open. Claire smashed the wrench off his head, again and again, each dull thud louder than the last. Rage flared into adrenaline that didn’t stop until he went down like a sack of shit, his eyes lifeless and his blonde hair a rich shade of red.
A sharply boned fist smashed hard off her jaw and she grunted as the side of her face throbbed into numbness. A second punch contained force enough to spray blood out of her mouth and agony stabbed razors between her ribs.
The third blow went unfelt until her knees cracked off the hard cement floor. Bile coiled tight in her stomach as her head felt too big for her shoulders and her whole world turned on its axis.
Claire managed to roll onto her back, her entire body fetal from cramped muscles and she stared up through wet eyes. One of the men stood over with features contorted into hate.
His thin lips moved, yet she heard none of his words and not until she saw the needle and not until she felt her body scream did she realise she had gone deaf.
“...And the next thing I know? Lakshan’s right above me asking how many fingers can I see.” Claire finished on a yawn. She was seriously exhausted and laid her head down on the sofa arm, a warm expression directed to the doctor who had saved her life.
Lakshan waved her off, his expression unreadable. “You alright there, mate?”
“Mmm.” Hell, but she felt drained in a way that turned her legs and arms into a solid lead so heavy, she couldn’t move them nary an inch and she blinked. A blink that lasted forever and she heard them all as they talked around her, their voices increased in volume even as their distance grew wider.
The ceiling seemed to inhale itself, which was as weird as it sounded. Though it was no weirder to how she couldn’t feel a thing under her, so she had clearly levitated, right?
Hard knuckles rubbed over her upper chest and Claire opened her eyes in time to see two Lakshan Bhandaris be swallowed by a black hole.
“I’m Claire. Claire Redfield. I came to find my brother, Chris.”
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Code: Project AURORA