Stalemate | LEON S. KENNEDY

1 - The Village

"So," Logan began, leaning against the door to the locker room.

The man could be crude, but was gentleman deep down. He had already shooed three men away, with a 'Stripes is in here, fuck off.' He had peaked behind his shoulder a few times, but hadn't said much.

"The supernatural?" He questioned, obvious amusement in his voice.

"Not what I'm used to," you pulled your compression top over your head. "Or Leon. So that'll be fun."

You paused, staring at the mirror hung on your locker. It was glaring at you. The bullet wound from nearly seven years ago. You yanked your shirt over the scar, and slammed your locker shut.

"You're saving the president's daughter?"

"What it said on the report," you tugged on your long sleeves. "Going to Spain."

Logan let out a light chuckle.

"You're going to die."

"Oh, stop," You threw your belt on. "I'll be fine. Leon will be fine."

Logan shook his head, turning around as you plopped down on a bench to pull your boots on.

"You and that boy..." Logan muttered. "I saw the picture. The one from New Years 2000. I knew you two were a thing."

"We were," you replied, yanking at the laces of your boots. "Previously. Made the Licker thing hit that much harder.."

Logan cocked a brow with a smirk, and shook his head.

"You got enough smoke for the mission?"

"Oh, shit," you reached into the pocket of your cargo pants, and flicked open your cigarette box. "Four, ugh!"

"Take it easy, Smokey," he laughed at your irrational anger. "I can loan you some cigars —"

"Hell no! Those smell like ass!"

Logan wheezed, and you couldn't help but chuckle, standing.

"Good luck, Stripes," he patted your shoulder. "Watch yourself."

<•>

September 30th, 1998. It was a day Leon would never forget. The cop inside him died that day. And that night, Raccoon City was wiped out, thanks to the bioweapons created by Umbrella. Somehow, he made it out. But others didn't get so lucky. He was "asked" later to join a top-secret government program. Not that he had a choice...

The training, the punishing missions nearly killed him. But at least they kept his mind off everything. If he could just forget what happened that night. The pain — even for a second. This time, it can be different.

The car jostled along, and Leon let his eyes flicker to you. You had one of your feet pressed against the back of the front-seat passenger. Your elbow rested on the door of the car, and you watched out the window.

You reeked of smoke. You had lit a cigarette while waiting for the police to show up, and it took every bit of Leon's willpower to not snatch it from you and stomp it out.

Leon pulled the picture of Ashley from his pocket, memorizing the girl's features.

"So, tell me, Yanquis..." the cop in the passenger seat began. "Why did you come to this horrible place? As close to nowhere that I've ever seen? Certainly no place for a lady."

You scoffed, but made no comment.

"Let's just say we're looking for someone," Leon replied.

"That someone must be very important, eh?" The cop pried. "The chief gave me orders himself. 'Help them,' he said."