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1.5

Two hundred feet below street level, a woman sat alone in a dim emergency bunker. It was the safest and most secure place that Tricell could build. Quite impenetrable to even the most deadly of BOWs. Not even a Tyrant could break in - or so Excella Gionne had claimed.

Still, they decided not to test that. Zombies and Lickers would be the only horrors unleashed on Toronto. That had been their plan. The only curveball was the unexpected mutation undergone by the new Licker breed. Spiked tails capable of launching bone-like projectiles. That was new. 

It turned out for the best. The mutation added some extra challenge to Excella’s little “proving ground”. A chance for her perfect soldier to test his mettle. That’s why Excella had insisted the scenario had to be real. They’d tested her champion in sterile labs. But they’d only get genuine data from studying him in the field.

The city of Toronto would be the field. 

And Ada Wong offered her services as the observer. 

It only felt right. The “Man of Tomorrow” was as much Ada’s doing as Excella’s. She needed to see if he truly was as good as Excella claimed.

Oh, he’s more than good…

In the privacy of the sealed bunker, Ada allowed a most pleased smile to spread across her face. Watching Excella’s champion in action, she had plenty to be pleased about.

The screens before her took up almost the entire wall, each one feeding her live footage from the various CCTV cameras placed throughout downtown Toronto. It was through them that Ada had watched the mission unfold - the mission to “rescue” her, funnily enough.

The helicopter crash hadn’t been planned - it delayed Ada’s extraction by a considerable amount of time - but Ada couldn’t deny that it allowed for the subject to show his adaptability. And of course, the STARS veterans survived as well. Just as Excella predicted. They had their part to play. Eventually.

Ada inhaled, leaning back in her office chair. The footage from dozens of cameras played in silence.

“How has our man been performing?” Came Excella Gionne’s accented voice, somewhat grainy due to Ada being some ways underground.

“He continues to exceed all expectations, Excella.” Ada answered with sincere satisfaction. “It was one thing watching him in a controlled environment, but to see him cut loose out in the wild…”

The sound of rich, gentle tittering came over the comm line.

“It’s like witnessing art unfold before your eyes, yes?”

Ada turned her eyes to another screen, one that wasn’t a live feed. It replayed the moment when Dalton had killed one of the mutated Lickers with only his hands. The way he manhandled the beasts, without even sign of struggle… it almost took Ada’s breath away.

“He’s magnificent.”

“He’s priceless.” Excella proclaimed. Ada could imagine the triumphant smile the woman must have been wearing then. “And the combat date we’ve recorded tonight is worth even more than that.”

The mission had provided plenty of footage, plenty of data. There was an abundance of it. Each second was worth more than an ounce of gold.

Dalton had done his job beautifully. And so had Ada.

All that was left for the rogue agent was to sit back and wait to be extracted. One of the perks of being a VIP.

“Setting Toronto on fire just to get footage of Dalton in action? You really are as ruthless as they say, Gionne.” Ada said, smirking.

“No one can deny my results.”

Ada couldn’t argue.

Excella’s plan was a work of twisted genius. Ada couldn’t ignore that it gave her a dark thrill. The clear success of the supersoldier project only pleased her that much more. The Man of Tomorrow was real. And Ada Wong had a hand in creating him.

She had her eyes on him at that very moment. Her gaze was fixed firmly on one screen in particular, the live feed showing John Dalton approach the front steps of the Tricell building. And right beside him was the diminutive Rebecca Chambers. Ada almost broke into a laugh, seeing the two walking side by side. The disparity between the man and the woman was… broad. 

The wolf and the bunny. It’s a miracle she survived the Spencer Mansion.

It was almost time to leave. Ada rose from her seat, smoothing out her dark red blouse. 

She kept her eyes on the screens, watching the perfection of Dalton. Even through the grainy CCTV footage, the cool confidence of his step oozed through. He had a primal nature about him, an unshakable aura that sucked Ada in. Alluring in the way only power could have.

John Dalton was the pinnacle. And he belonged to them.

“The Man of Tomorrow on Tricell-Umbrella’s leash.” Ada mused, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’d say the future is firmly in your hands, Excella.”

The Director of Anti-Bioterror Operations let out a soft hum on the other end of the line. It was clear that she was beyond pleased.

Then there was a long moment of silence. Neither woman spoke, allowing the reality of their triumph to sink in. It was only when Dalton and Chambers entered the HQ lobby that Excella’s voice once more came through.

“Download all the footage you can. Wipe the rest.”

Clear, simple, direct. Ada found herself nodding despite the fact that the other woman couldn’t even see her. A force of habit, perhaps. The free agent didn’t dwell on it.

“Let me guess: guard the drive with my life?” Ada joked as she moved to a computer terminal and began tapping keys.

A few more keystrokes had the CCTV footage being set to archive, the raw video files loading onto a single hard drive. In a few short minutes, that hard drive would be worth hundreds of millions.

“You won’t need to, Ms. Wong.” Excella assured her, haughty pride coloring her words. “Not with Dalton watching your ass.”

Ada snorted.

“I hope he likes what he sees. Wong, out.”

---

Rebecca was not impressed with Ladybug. 

It wasn’t one specific thing about the VIP that irked her, it was everything. 

It was her attitude, acting so blasé about downtown Toronto being in flames. 

It was her outfit, designer clothes that looked like they cost more than a month of Rebecca’s salary. The black high-heel boots, the tight pants of shiny, black leather, the blouse of dark red silk. Each article of clothing seemed to speak to Rebecca, taunting her: “I’m better than you.”

It was the aura of haughty smugness that seemed to permeate the space around her. Rebecca could practically taste it, this woman’s arrogance. It was in her eyes, in the way she looked at Rebecca like she was some fragile little mouse.

It was everything about this woman. Her beauty, her effortless grace, her flawless, pale skin. Ladybug’s Asian features only added another layer to her air of elegance. Narrow, catlike eyes. Small, slender nose. Pouty, glossy lips, Short, silky black hair. Every bit of her was flawless. She looked like she just stepped off the runway at a fashion show.

In many ways, Ladybug reminded Rebecca of Director Gionne. The two women shared many qualities - the same qualities that Rebecca found less than admirable, unfortunately. But there was one big difference between them, Agent Chambers noticed. Excella Gionne was usually cold, detached, ruthlessly professional. But Ladybug?

Ladybug liked to flirt.

“I hope you didn’t break too much of a sweat for little ol’ me.” The VIP spoke, looking quite pleased at the presence of John Dalton. There was… interest in her eyes. Interest that she didn’t bother to hide.

The shamelessness of it made Rebecca want to gag. Even worse, Dalton was… receptive.

The man smiled at the VIP, the cockiness etched on his face being enough to stoke Rebecca’s irritation. He stood up tall - being indoors only highlighted just how tall he was, with the top of his head almost grazing the ceiling. 

“Getting here was a piece of cake.” He boasted, chuckling. Rebecca frowned. He wasn’t really lying, she reminded herself. For him, it certainly did seem easy. But for the rest of the team… A second later, he added, “Besides the crash, of course.”

Rebecca tightened her jaw. At least he remembered he came here with a team.

“We lost people. Good people.” Rebecca told them hotly.

At least Dalton had the good grace to let the smirk drop off his face. Ladybug, however, appeared rather unmoved. She stepped forward, her heeled boots clicking against the floor. The Asian woman came to a stop before Rebecca - who noted in frustration that the VIP, like Dalton, was taller than her - and raised one arm. In Ladybug’s hand was a silver briefcase. Rebecca saw that the woman had handcuffed it to herself.

“Get me and this data out of here so they didn’t die for nothing.” Ladybug answered plainly.

Rebecca said nothing. Her opinion on the VIP was dropping by the second. But the mission wasn’t to judge this woman, it was to rescue her. The STARS veteran gave a curt nod.

“Can I ask what’s in there or is that above my paygrade?” Dalton called out from across the office room, half serious. Without them noticing, he had moved over to the doorway, watching if the coast was clear.

“All you need to know is that it’s part of the future.” Ladybug said in a cold, clipped tone. Instantly, there was a shield of professionalism, impenetrable. So sudden that Rebecca blinked in shock. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone in a flash. Replaced once more by the look of a flirty temptress.

Rebecca didn’t understand this woman. She didn’t want to understand.

Dalton, of course, cared little for the subtleties. A pretty woman was a pretty woman, or so he seemed to decide.

“Right. We’re booking it from here. Are you going to be able to run in those heels?” He asked.

“I can keep up.” Ladybug shot back with a smirk. There was a look of challenge on her face. “And if I can’t… didn’t you mention something about carrying me?”

Rebecca bit her tongue. Though she didn’t hide the rolling of her eyes. Not that either of her companions noticed.

Dalton gave a short laugh. He shook his head.

“It’s tempting.” He said, very deliberately eyeing up the VIP. Her tight leather pants that Rebecca had derided as ridiculous, Dalton seemed to enjoy very much. Rebecca wanted to scoff. Dalton spoke again, almost apologetic. “But I’ll need my hands free for this job, Miss. Can’t keep you safe if I can’t fight.”

Ladybug gave a mock pout.

“You soldier boys are no fun.”

“Buy me a drink when we get out of this hellhole. I might surprise you.” Dalton’s voice had dropped a bit lower, rumbling nicely in his chest.

But Rebecca could hold her tongue no longer. This was absurd.

“Can we focus? Please?” She was almost begging them, her voice hot with exasperation. She tapped some keys on her comm device, bringing up the digital map of the city, moving on before anyone could argue. “The extraction point is only a klick away. I’m going to try and reach Jill, let her know we have the VIP, and that she should meet us there.”

Rebecca continued tapping keys and turned away from the other two, not wanting to see their faces. Her cheeks burned as she tried to patch through to her friend, though she tried waving it off as exertion. This mission was a tough one, after all. She was only tired.

To her great relief, Rebecca finally managed to reach through to Jill. But the connection was poor. As the comm line activated, Rebecca found that the other end was mostly static. Still, she tried to talk.

“Jill? Do you read me? The VIP is secured. We’re on our way to the LZ.”

A moment passed and the only response was more grainy static. Jill took a deep breath, unwilling to even think of the worst. She tried the same message again.

At first, there was only more static. But then Rebecca heard Jill’s voice break through.

“Can’t… talk now…” Her friend answered, her words coming quiet and strained. Like she was struggling. Then came the sound of gunshots. And inhuman shrieking. Rebecca’s blood ran cold. Jill’s voice came through one last time. “Have… big problem…”

A couple more gunshots sounded off. Then the line went dead.

“Jill? Jill!? Come in! Jill?” Rebecca tapped frantically at her comm device, trying to restore the connection. No dice. 

She whirled up to look at the other two, silently pleading with her eyes. Hoping that either or both would prove her dim views of them wrong.

“Sounds like your friend ran into some trouble.” Ladybug spoke first. Her voice wasn’t taunting or mocking, but neither did she sound sympathetic. Her words were a cold statement of fact.

“We… we have to go back and help her!” She urged them, practically begging. Her eyes danced between the two, looking for something, any sign of basic humanity.

Dalton frowned, looking away.

“Helo is fifteen minutes out. We don’t have the time.”

Rebecca stared at him. Then she fumed. Anger ran hot, spreading through her veins like a wildfire. She stomped over to the man that towered over her, the superhuman who could kill Lickers and zombies with his bare fucking hands. 

“Are you kidding me?” Rebecca seethed, staring Dalton down - or rather up, considering the height disparity. “All that bullshit about how you’re the best there is and you’re just going to up and leave? If you’re going to call yourself the best, it’s time for you to prove it.”

Her arm struck out, slamming her open palm into his shoulder, trying to shove some sense into him. He didn’t move an inch and her hand ached afterward, but from the look on his face, he got the message.

But that wasn’t to say that he accepted it.

For a time, there was silence between them. Rebecca looked into his eyes, and he looked back into hers. She wore her heart on her sleeve, but Dalton was unreadable. His hard face was like stone.

Within, Rebecca’s belly coiled and twisted. Anxious, she was.

Finally, Dalton gave his answer.

---

Low on ammo. Trapped behind some overturned cars. Her back against the wall. And nursing a very nasty claw wound to her upper right arm.

Jill Valentine was not having a great time.

That was the story of her life, of course. A cavalcade of misfortune. Crisis after crisis after crisis.

But tonight was especially bleak. Dead team right off the bat, then separated from her best friend, leaving her in the company of a man she really, really didn’t trust. Before finally leading to this.

Surrounded by Lickers. Mutated Lickers. The kind that had spiked tails.

I really hate this fucking things.

The first attack had been so sudden, lightning quick. Had she been a green rookie, Jill would have been dead for sure. But she was a BOW veteran. Her experience with these inhuman creatures was likely the only reason she was still breathing.

A single Licker was no problem for Jill Valentine. Not after Raccoon City. But - stupidly - in the heat of the moment, she’d used her gun. And with her luck being what it was, the noise attracted more Lickers. Half a dozen, at least.

That was how she got the claw mark on her arm. Deep gashes over her shoulder, but not enough to put her out of commission. And not enough to ruin her throwing arm. A well-tossed grenade - her last one, in fact - had saved her life. Lickers were blind and the noise had distracted them enough for her to slip away… right into a dead end.

With no more grenades and not enough bullets to kill the other Lickers, all Jill had left was her combat knife. 

The odds were stacked firmly against her.

She kept her nerve, of course. Even in the face of death, Jill Valentine wasn’t the kind of gal to break down. But she was staring in the face of death. And that sense of dread was hanging heavily over her. A dark cloud that she couldn’t ignore. And though she put on a brave face, the truth was… Jill didn’t want to die.

Slowly, she peered over the top - the bottom - of the car she was hiding behind. She could hear them just fine, but seeing them made her stomach sink. 

Six Lickers prowling the parking lot. Crawling around on the asphalt, on the walls to her right and left, on top of the bus that was blocking her only other route of escape. 

Jill was trapped. The only way out was straight ahead. Through them. She’d have to move slowly, quietly, carefully avoiding touching them. But they moved around irregularly, quickly. There was never an opening that lasted more than a few seconds. Not enough time. Nowhere near enough time.

Not enough ammo to fight. Can’t sneak past them, either…

Beyond the dread, Jill was angry. Angry at herself for getting into such a stupid situation. Angry at her own shitty luck. But most of all, she was angry at Umbrella for bringing these nightmares into the world.

This is their fault. Raccoon City, Toronto, all of it.

Jill exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. If she was going to die, she might as well go down swinging.

Agent Valentine raised her pistol, readying up a headshot…

Only for a loud, brash voice to thunder from across the parking lot.

“Come get a taste of me, you ugly fucks!”

All the Lickers seized up, turning their bodies towards the man’s voice. Turning away from Jill.

Jill could only stare in shock, frozen on the spot. The absurd had become reality.

John Dalton had come to rescue her.

It was a bad joke. The universe was laughing at her. Jill didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She felt relief, confusion, and fear all at the same time. She wasn’t going to die that night. But perhaps Dalton was. 

The Lickers, the blind monsters attracted to sound, let out a series of primal shrieks. Like lightning, they pounced, leaping through the air to tear into their next prey. For Jill, it was like it was happening in slow motion. From what she could see, Dalton didn’t even have a gun.

Dumbass is going to get himself killed.

Jill’s heart skipped a beat. It was… a far more noble act that she ever expected from the Tricell mercenary.

Maybe I was too harsh-

But Dalton didn’t die. The beasts swarmed him, clawing at him, shrieking and snarling as they jumped him together. But the man didn’t fall. He didn’t even move. It was as if the Lickers had struck solid rock, their bodies crashing into Dalton’s… and bending, twisting around him.

Jill blinked. It couldn’t have been real.

But then Dalton grabbed one of the skinless monsters, his hands latching firmly onto its neck. Then with a grunt, he jerked his hands. A sickening crack. The sound of snapping bones and tearing flesh. The Licker dropped onto the ground. Dead. 

Killed by Dalton’s bare hands. While the rest still clamored over him, around him.

Jill watched, dumbfounded, as the mercenary made short work of the rest. Breaking one’s spine. Throwing another into a burning car. Stomping another’s head into the pavement. 

As their numbers dwindled, the Lickers’ attacks became more ferocious, more desperate. They all slashed and snapped at him in vain, hoping to slow him down, bleed him out, to do anything. Nothing they did seemed to bother the man in the slightest.

Their claws had sliced through Jill’s flesh like she was tissue paper. But on Dalton? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Finally, with a snarling grunt, Dalton put an end to the final Licker. Driving a combat knife into the roof of its mouth so that the blade erupted out the top of its head. He wrenched the blade free, tossing the dead creature aside like it was trash.

John Dalton stood victorious. And bloody.

Unable to form words, Jill slowly crept out from behind the overturned car. Taking tentative steps, she approached the man - was he even a man? Though her mind was racing, Jill was able to parse that Dalton was some sort of superhuman. However far fetched it was, her eyes couldn’t deceive her.

Jill drew closer, blinking again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating - perhaps this was a dying dream and she was bleeding out on the ground. 

Dalton wiped the grime off of his arms, frowning at the tatters that used to be his kevlar vest. He ripped it off his torso with a single tug, tossing it aside. Underneath, his shirt was torn as well. Claw and teeth marks criss-crossed the dark fabric. But his skin? Jill could see no cuts, no bruises, no markings at all. It was like the Lickers hadn’t even touched him.

Jill had yet to even utter a word. What could she even say?

Dalton spoke first, finally taking notice of her approach. He put on a cocky grin, his eyes glittering with prideful arrogance.

“Valentine. You’re not dead.” He observed, taking yet another chance to eye her up.

Jill breathed in. She too drew her eyes up his body, settling on his torn shirt… and the body underneath. Superhuman, she knew. But how? He had saved her life and she was grateful for that. But Jill found herself still wary of him. Only now it was for a different reason entirely.

“Disappointed?” Jill huffed out, holstering her pistol. She brought the same hand up, tenderly touching the claw marks on her shoulder. She hissed and quickly drew her fingers away.

“Not at all. I like having your sweet ass around. It’s good for my morale.” His grin widened into a toothy smile. There was a flash of hunger in his eyes. Jill avoided the man’s eyes.

“Fuck you.” She breathed out. It was a weak deflection. Her voice didn’t have the edge it had at the start of the mission. For some reason, Jill didn’t have it in her to show the same fire to Dalton as before. Or maybe she was just tired.

Dalton chuckled. Low, deep laughter that rumbled from his chest. Jill clenched her free hand. The man remained infuriating for her to listen to. Only now, Jill knew he had the power to back up his arrogance. His boasts, she realized, actually meant something.

“Hey, if that’s how you want to pay me back…”

His voice trailed off. It was obviously taunting, but there was something meaningful there too. Jill could tell that somewhere in there was a serious offer. And the implication twisted something in her gut. 

Thankfully, some company arrived to rescue her from her rescuer. Rebecca came jogging up through the smoke. And behind her, an Asian woman Jill recognized from the mission brief as Ladybug.

Jill was relieved to see them both. Overjoyed at seeing her dear friend safe and sound, and satisfied that they were able to locate the VIP safely.

Dalton kept his word… I’ll be damned…

Rebecca brushed past Dalton, her youthful face beaming adorably. The younger agent was as delighted as Jill was. 

“Glad you made it, Jill.” Her friend sighed as she drew Jill in for a hug. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”