Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

Additional note: I am so sorry for the lateness, guys. Thanks for being patient with me. This isn't really the most exciting chapter, but it's necessary all the same...and things will really start heating up in the next chapter. ;3 Enjoy! Reviews and constructive comments are always greatly appreciated too!

Chapter Seven

When Sheva finally arrived in Atlanta, Georgia, it was hours past midnight and drizzling unpleasantly. The young woman was experiencing the insufferable combination of restlessness and exhaustion, and this feeling was perhaps the reason why she dissuaded herself from figuring out the Atlanta transit system, opting for a simple and familiar taxi cab instead. The bright lights of Atlanta glittered in the raindrops that darted down the windows of her cab, and she surveyed the city around her with tired interest as the taxi driver made his way to her hotel.

The hotel that the BSAA had booked her was supremely average: clean and functional, but sparing in most other aspects. Compared to fifteen hours in a cramped airplane, however, it was heaven, and Sheva toss her bags onto her bed in careless relief as she entered her room. After assuring that the door to her room was locked and bolted, she shed her clothes easily and took a quick, hot shower that effectively allayed much of her tension.

Upon exiting the bath, a wet-haired Sheva allowed herself to sink into the soft, neatly-made bed. She did not immediately bother with clothes, appreciating instead the cool breath of frigid air conditioning on her bare skin. From the nightstand by the bed, she retrieved the gold bracelet that had been Josh's gift to her. She put the bracelet on her arm and ran a finger across the delicate, prowling lioness that was etched on the intricate gold piece. Staring at the bracelet made Sheva miss Josh terribly, and she forced herself to push him from her mind as she rose from the bed to look out the window of her twelfth-story hotel room.

Though it was very late at night, Atlanta was still bustling. Bright lights flashed from the cars and buses below, and the sound of passing vehicles could be heard from even so far up. While this noise might have annoyed some hotel guests, it was oddly comforting to Sheva. It somehow made her feel less alone in the large, foreign city, and she quickly pushed aside the curtains so that light from nearby skyscrapers danced over her naked body. She stared out the window in quiet contemplation for several minutes before returning to bed somewhat reluctantly. Soon, she resigned herself to sleep, completely unaware of the horrors taking place just miles away.

"Shut her up, goddamn it! Shut that goddamn bitch up!"

Dr. Michael Forrest was losing much of his composure as he watched his two companions struggle with a screaming young prostitute in Biochort Inc.'s most confidential laboratory. The woman was shrieking desperately while flailing wildly, and Michael gritted his teeth as he watched his coworkers' pathetic attempts at restraining the incoherent woman.

"Make sure she doesn't break anything!" he snarled; his coworkers' safety was hardly a priority. "And why the fuck haven't you sedated the bitch yet?"

"She really started freaking out when we took out the anesthesia syringe, sir!" squeaked Dr. Ethan James, one of the two men attempting to calm the unruly subject. Ethan was a short, skinny man with dark-rimmed glasses, and the look on his face was nothing short of horror. "She signed the release form, but she's changed her mind…"

"We've got her signature on paper. She's not changing her mind now," said Michael viciously. "And seriously – grow a fucking pair, you two!" he snapped angrily, watching as Ethan and the other scientist, Dr. Henry Jiang, darted helplessly around the captive with full syringes in their hands. "This is how you deal with riffraff like this."

Michael advanced upon the captive and struck out at her with surprising speed. The young woman yelped in pain as her assailant's fist connected with her jaw, and she retaliated with a cry, swiping at Michael with a fierce desperation shining in her eyes. With a scornful snort, Michael grabbed a handful of the woman's hair and smashed her head into the laboratory wall, and she crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Michael glanced down carelessly and nudged the prone form with his foot. "You can sedate her now, gentlemen."

"Shit!" breathed Ethan finally, after a rather pronounced, stunned silence. "Holy shit. Is she okay?"

"Of course she's okay," snapped Michael, looking from the shocked Ethan to the pale-faced Henry with some irritation. "She'll be going through much worse very soon. I don't think a minor head injury will affect the experimental outcomes."

A brief silence ensued after this particularly callous statement, broken once more by an exasperated Michael. "You two are pathetic. Just get me the test vials, will you?"

There was a silent scramble as both men darted off to fetch the vials, eager to escape their boss's presence. Michael did not bother watching them leave; instead he crouched down to where the unconscious woman was lying and began pulling her into an adjacent room that was devoid of much anything, save for a scant bed and a thick-glassed window panel. He shackled the woman's wrists to avoid any future mishaps, and then snatched the experimental vials from Ethan upon his return.

"By the way," said Michael conversationally, reaching for a new syringe, "Before I forget, I have to tell you two something. We're going to have a BSAA agent here starting next week, so try and keep those yappy mouths shut, alright?"

"What?" yelped Ethan, exchanging alarmed looks with Henry. "Are you serious? BSAA? Oh, man…"

"That's definitely not good news," agreed Henry softly. "You sure we shouldn't just put this operation on hold for a bit, Michael?"

"I know it sounds pretty serious," said Michael, now filling the syringe with the experimental vial's dark liquid contents, "But it really won't be that bad. York and I are taking precautions, and the girl won't have access to this laboratory. She'll be working in my other lab, and I'll keep her occupied. I just wanted to let you guys know, so that you don't accidentally let things slip if you happen to run into her."

"So you know who she is already?" asked Henry curiously, and Michael nodded.

"York has a contact within the BSAA, it turns out. We know her identity, and we'll make sure she stays oblivious to our work. I'll agree with you lot though – it's unpleasant news. I'd rather not have the bitch here. Even the slightest threat is unwelcome at this point, but we'll manage."

"What's her name? How will we know it's her?" interjected Ethan, and Michael nodded toward his office.

"I've got her profile on my desk. You can take a look when we're done here, if you desire. The agent's name is Sheva Alomar, but the name she'll be using here is Briana Wilkes. She doesn't seem too threatening, to be honest, but again – we're not taking any chances. Just be wary around her, and keep doing your jobs. York and I will deal with everything else."

"Can we just kill her?" blurted Henry, and Ethan stared at his companion, utterly aghast. Henry looked at his friend defensively, trying to ignore Michael's approving grin.

"I mean, we're already…killing people. What's one more? If you believe in souls, then ours are already in shreds, and if you're just afraid of the punishment…well, if we get found out, we're all getting life sentences, or worse. And if we can eliminate the threat early on, we can reduce the possibility of getting caught..."

"But that's different!" protested Ethan. "Technically….technically our test subjects' immune systems might be able to fight off the infection. That's what tests are for, aren't they? But suggesting we go out and kill that poor girl in cold blood…"

"You know very well that our test subjects are going to die," said Michael bluntly. "So don't attempt to assuage your conscience by pretending otherwise. And however much I admire your bloodthirsty side, Henry, we can't kill her. Think of how suspicious that'd be!"

"Very well," conceded Henry, but his expression was still one of great unease.

Michael finished inoculating his unconscious subject and stood up, prising the latex gloves from his hands carefully. "We're done here, for now. You two can leave. I want another test subject by next week, though," he added, and both Ethan and Henry frowned.

"Next week? We can't keep getting one a week, Michael. People will start noticing…"

"They're prostitutes and homeless bastards," snapped Michael. "Atlanta's crawling with them. No one will notice, and even if they did, they'd just be thankful that we're cleaning up the streets a bit. Just be careful and make sure you have no witnesses."

"Easy for you to say," muttered Henry, his voice bordering on antagonism.

Michael stared at Henry furiously. "If we get caught, I'm in as much shit as you are. More, even. I'm taking the greatest amount of precaution I can, and so far there have been no hiccups of my doing. So shut your fucking mouth and do your damn job, and let me deal with the details!"

Henry and Ethan said nothing and slinked out of the room like chastised pet hounds after this outburst. Michael sighed in exasperation. Henry and Ethan were both incredibly intelligent and very skilled biochemists, but they were so utterly lacking in other aspects. Why did he have to be surrounded by such incompetence?

From the lab, Michael headed to his office, which was located down the hallway of the same floor. From his desk he retrieved his car keys, and then after a moment's hesitation, he picked up Sheva's file too. He flipped the folder open and glanced at the young woman's picture, and his lips curled with derision.

Perhaps he couldn't kill her right away, but he'd make sure she'd suffer by the time it was all over.

Sheva was pointedly attempting to ignore the leers of a trio of thugs as she knocked on the peeling door of apartment number 217. The apartment was in a shoddy building, located in a shoddy neighborhood, in an obviously shoddy part of town. She half-wondered if it was a requirement for BSAA contacts to be located in such awful places. First the butcher in Kijuju, and now this place…

"Hey, sexy, if yo' boyfriend's blowin' you off, you can come over to my place instead!" called one of the thugs, and his companions laughed unpleasantly and catcalled as she waited in front of the apartment door impatiently.

After another minute and a few more increasingly agitated knocks, the door swung open to reveal a scruffy, shaggy-haired man, who ushered her in quickly before closing and locking the door with a snap. The man, hardly much older than Sheva, scratched his head apologetically before speaking.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you quite so soon, and I was dozing…"

Sheva's eyes scanned the apartment. It was incredibly cluttered and rather dingy, and though she did not make any remarks, her shaggy-haired companion offered another apology as he followed her gaze. "Yeah – I know it's messy in here. Sorry again. Like I said, I wasn't expecting you so early…"

"Oh, don't worry about it," assured Sheva good-naturedly. "It's the location that throws me off the most. Why exactly did the BSAA situate you here when there are some perfectly nice apartments just a few blocks away?"

"Well, it's cheap," offered the BSAA agent, shrugging. "And I don't mind it, really. Hey – can't I get you something to drink? I'm Gavin, by the way," he added, grinning ruefully. "Can't believe I didn't even introduce myself…"

"I'm Sheva, and it's a pleasure, Gavin," returned Sheva, smiling at Gavin's absentmindedness. "I'm fine, though, thanks."

Gavin opened a Coke and took a few gulps of the drink before speaking again. "So…yeah. Your weapons. And your other stuff. I've got everything ready for you, if you'll give me just a minute…" The young man wandered out of the room into his bedroom, and emerged a few minutes later with a steel case and a keyring with three keys attached to it.

"Here ya go, Sheva. They gave me a nice budget with your weapons, so I got you some nice shit. I heard you like using blades, so I went all-out and picked you up this beauty," gushed Gavin enthusiastically, removing a glittering 10-inch dagger from the case. "Feel how light it is, and just look at it. Gorgeous, huh?"

He passed her the weapon and removed the firearm from the case next. "Beretta 92A1. Nothing special, but still – reliable. I tried it out a few times so I can tell you it's fully functional. I'll be around for the next few days if you have problems, but after that I'll be heading out to Tennessee…"

He passed the Beretta to Sheva too, who turned it around in her hands, inspecting the sight and magazine. Finally, Gavin tossed her the keyring and returned to his Coke as he recited the keyring's contents to his guest lazily.

"That first key, with the black handle – that's the key to your car. It's parked in the lot, and I'll walk you down to it when you leave. It's a Toyota – again, nothing special, but functional. The next two keys are the keys to your apartment and your decoy apartment."

"Decoy apartment?" repeated Sheva, raising an eyebrow, and Gavin grinned.

"Fancy, huh? I was told you're on a classified mission, and it was requested of me to rent out two apartments for you. One is where you'll actually be living, and the other is the address that you gave to your employer, I can only assume. The place where you'll actually live is adorable, and as a guy, I don't use that word lightly. It's actually a rental house, and it's furnished and everything already, so you don't even have to do much. The decoy apartment is really an apartment, and it's a lot less appealing. It's also furnished, in case you have to stay there for some reason, but it's not really ideal." Gavin paused and put down his drink. "So…that's all I got. Any questions?"

"I think I've got it," said Sheva, returning the weapons to the metal case. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"Nothing I can remember, though I do have some restaurant recommendations if you're interested," jested Gavin with a grin. "C'mon then – I'll show you to your house, and then you can ditch me and enjoy the rest of your day, before the BSAA bullshit kicks in."

Sheva's new residence was, as Gavin had so eloquently put it, adorable, and as Sheva reclined on the soft plush couch comfortably, she felt that for the first time in what seemed like forever, things were finally going her way: She was settling well into Atlanta, felt safe with her secret house and new weapons in tow, and was anxious to start her new mission. In fact, there was only one more thing that she wanted to do before focusing all her efforts into her undercover persona the following day.

With hands that almost trembled with excitement, she picked her up cell phone and began dialing a number that she knew by heart, even though she had rarely had the opportunity to call it.

Chris fidgeted with his neatly-pressed tie uncomfortably, feeling slightly out of place in the expensive Italian restaurant that his sister had suggested for the celebration of his engagement to Jill Valentine. It was odd that he should feel this way, for he had attended many upscale dinners and parties as the face of the BSAA, but even after years of conditioning he would have indefinitely preferred a burger and fries over the fancy Italian cuisine.

From across the table, he watched as Jill chatted with his sister, Claire, and the reality of it all hit him suddenly. He was going to be married. It was something that he had always known he would want eventually, but it still felt so odd to think that he would actually be married in a year or so's time. Up to this point, he had never really stopped to think on the subject for very long: he had been much too nervous at the prospect of proposing that he had not had the time to think about anything that might come after. Nevertheless, he felt quite good about it all now, and he smiled lightly to no one in particular before Leon Kennedy nudged him in the ribs none-too-gently.

"My god, wedding talk," groaned Leon in an undertone, nodding towards Jill and Claire. Leon was good friends with Claire, and since she would only be in town for a few days, she had invited her long-time friend to the dinner too. "Those two can kick the brains out of a zombie, and yet they still squeal when they talk about bridal gowns and flower arrangements."

Chris smirked at Leon over his glass of Pinot noir. "You know, you don't have to hide it, Leon. Go ahead and jump into that conversation like you know you want to. Hydrangeas or chrysanthemums, right?"

"Fuck you, man," retorted Leon, loudly enough so that several immaculately-dressed diners shot him scandalized glares, "I don't even know what those are…"

"Flowers, genius," replied Chris, snorting, and Leon raised his eyebrows.

"Quite the fucking botanist, aren't you?" jibed Leon with a grin, and Chris rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort when his cell phone trilled blaringly from inside his coat pocket.

"You were supposed to turn that off," said Leon in a mock-serious voice, and Chris, scowling, reached into his pocket to silence the phone. His heart skipped a beat upon looking at the caller ID, however, and he hesitated before getting up.

"I…I gotta take this, guys. I'll be back in just a sec. Is that alright with you?" he added, glancing at Jill dutifully, and his fiancée nodded her assent.

Chris picked his way out of the restaurant carefully, and as he finally exited the crowded place, he could not help but feel a little relieved as he loosened his tie and answered his cell.

"Hey there, partner," he greeted, and he could almost hear the ecstatic grin that was spreading over Sheva's face at the sound of her friend's voice.

"Chris! Oh, Chris, we haven't talked in ages! How are you?"

Chris relished the happy chattering of his pretty ex-partner, but he couldn't help but feel a little guilty at this feeling of elation. He knew that he should tell Sheva about his engagement, but he decided to delay that for a few minutes. For some reason, he felt that the news of his engagement would only bring a damper to the conversation, and thus he danced past the subject deliberately.

"I'm good," he said instead, shrugging his shoulders even though he realized that Sheva couldn't see him. "Enjoying my time off-duty, I guess. How're things with you?"

"I've been better, but things are alright, I suppose," intoned Sheva carelessly. "I have some news though! It's really quite amazing…" He could hear a note of excitement in her voice, and he was not sure why, but it filled him with some apprehension.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Guess!" demanded Sheva flippantly, and Chris furrowed his brow.

"Um…" He was not the most articulate of men, and guessing games were never his forte. "A promotion?" he offered, and he heard Sheva's musical laugh.

"Better! I'm in the States, Chris! D'you have some free time to see your old partner? Can I visit you sometime soon?" she said, her voice tilted with excitement.

"Oh!" Chris' stomach leaped joyfully at this news before sinking unpleasantly. It was surely ironic that Sheva would decide to visit him after he had been certain that he would not see her again for some time. For one terrible second, he regretted proposing to Jill, for another encounter with Sheva was just what he needed to sort out his convoluted feelings, but a second later he felt even worse for thinking such a thought, and he forced himself to push any romantic feelings he harbored for Sheva aside as he answered.

"Wow, that's great news!" he managed finally, forcing a cheerful note into his tone. "But I thought you always said that you've seen enough of the States already. Thought you wanted to see Europe if you had some time off…"

"I'm not here for a vacation," chirped Sheva. "I'm here for…work. I'll be here for months – maybe a year, and maybe longer – I'm not entirely sure myself. I've been having a bit of trouble back home, and it's really nice to get off and have a change of scenery, you know."

"Months…" The feeling of regret stabbed at him again, and this time it lingered uncomfortably. "Wow. Well, yeah, of course you have to come visit…us…Jill would love to see you again too," he compelled himself to add.

"Oh!" This time it was Sheva's turn to sound a little surprised. She regained her composure quickly, however, and had Chris not known her so well, he would have missed the slight reluctance in her voice. "I'd love to see you—both of you! Would next week be alright?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," said Chris, the forced, cheeriness still lingering in his tone. "I'll pick you up at the airport, even. Let me know when your flight is, and I'll be there to meet you."

"That sounds wonderful," said Sheva. For the first time, an uncomfortable pause extended between them, and Chris interrupted it with a soft cough.

"Well, I have to go. Can't wait to see you, okay?" he muttered softly, glancing back at the restaurant's doors guiltily.

"See you soon," agreed Sheva, a small amount of uncertainty in her voice now, and Chris snapped his phone shut, his stomach ill.

He was going to be married. Meeting up with Sheva was a terrible idea, and he knew it. The last thing he needed was a reason to doubt his relationship with Jill, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to Sheva again – needed to see her again.

"Fuck," sighed Chris, tugging at his tie subconsciously. With that, he made his way back to the restaurant, but he no longer felt giddy and elated. He felt guilty, frustrated, and above all, he felt very, very confused.