Resident Evil: Raptor

Assignment

When Tyler returned to his house he was surprised to find his iPod and earbuds in his pocket.  In the midst of the chaos he had completely forgotten he'd bought them. After connecting the iPod to his laptop and beginning the sync of his large library of music, he took his second shower of the day. Having still not eaten anything, he settled on a packet of tuna and a banana before laying down. He turned on the television to find that the events of today were being storied on all of the major networks.

"Fatalities are high, but considering the volume of survivors present, things certainly could have been much worse," the news anchor said as she stared intently into the camera. Footage of rescue workers and families being reunited began to play as the anchor explained that the intervention of the BSAA had been key in preventing greater tragedy.

He pulled his laptop into bed with him and began typing his account of today's events, sparing no details. After proofreading the report several times, he felt satisfied with his work and submitted it to the required location in the BSAA database.

Tyler shut the TV off, closed his laptop and smiled sleepily to himself as he thought about the impact an organization like the BSAA had on the world. When he had been a Raptor, he had used his skill set to destabilize and ruin those in power who threatened the dominance of the United States. He carried out assassinations when necessary. The worst for him had been missions that required him to be the male equivalent of what the Russian KGB would have called a Mozhno Girl- a spy who used seduction and charm to gain intelligence. Having been recruited at such a young age, Tyler had assumed it was due to his competence.  Shortly after joining the Raptors and receiving his training, he learned that much of it had to do with his physical appearance, too.

"Desire a powerful thing," one of his instructors had explained to him. "It can be used against our enemies to gain the upper hand."

On these particular missions, Tyler felt like the Bond Girl from the James Bond story From Russia, With Love.  In the film, Tatiana Romanova had been assigned to pose as a defector who had fallen in love with 007. This wasn't Tyler's ideal role in espionage, and he hated his Mozhno Boy missions with a passion but carried them out nonetheless. Even to his detriment.

The idea of repression rerouted him from this train of thought. Instead he focused on the missions he had preferred- infiltration. The rush of using his training to maintain total silence brought about the same surge of adrenaline that skydivers or bungee jumpers must feel.  Every time he donned his sneaking suit and moved silently through enemy territory, he felt like he was diving with sharks and he loved it.

Those were the memories he would rather hold onto, he decided, even if repression was an unhealthy way to cope.

Sleep attacked Tyler without him noticing, but soon his dreams were infiltrated by memories he couldn't suppress in his slumber. The scent of vodka. Cigars. A silk tie. Burns on his skin. He woke up in a fit of panic, his body trembling. Sweat caused the bedsheets to cling to him. He shed them and sat on the side, facing his window. The clock on his bedside table told him it was four in the morning. Deciding that he wouldn't sleep anymore tonight, he got to his feet and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He splashed cold water over his face and took a few cleansing breaths. He washed his face and brushed his teeth before dressing in another pair of workout clothes- this time a white sleeveless shirt and some black shorts. He packed a change of clothes in his gym bag and drove to BSAA HQ.

After moving through the checkpoint, parking his car, and walking along the perimeter of the gym, he entered and began his morning workout. In the midst of a grueling shoulder workout, a uniformed officer approached him.

"Administrator White wants to see you in thirty."

Tyler returned the dumbbells and hurriedly showered and changed into his training uniform. He left the gym area and found his way to the administrator's office. Situated on the second floor of the bullpen- a large room full of desks for BSAA agents- the office sat behind a wall of floor to ceiling windows, the blinds open. Tyler took note of the immaculate office as he was given admission. The administrator's desk was very neatly-kept but void of any personal effects. White himself stood before a large window and watched as the sun rose over the endless sea of BSAA property.