Fanfiction Archive

Chris hands Jill his binoculars, and points down toward the picturesque little village nestled deep in the bowl-like valley of the mountain.

“My team has been gathering intel on this place for months, but we’ve hit a major roadblock,” he explains gruffly. “Use the red button to increase magnification,”

Jill takes it in her gloved hand, her warm breath puffing into clouds of steam in the snowy mountain air.

Raising the binoculars, she adjusts her vision and zooms in on the center of town.

“You wouldn’t have called in your old buddy Valentine if you hadn’t ” she quips. “You must really need the big guns.”

“The small guns, actually,” he grumbles. “Hopefully the ‘no guns’. Big guns my team can handle. Undercover work not so much.”

The town below is hardly bustling, but Jill can see signs of life everywhere she looks. There’s a woman with a cart of apples, wearing a simple dress and a scarf over her hair. There are a couple of men in what might be uniforms lingering around the large statue in the center of town. Over them all a large and foreboding castle looms.

She brings the binoculars up to peer at the castle with a sharp grin. “And here I thought I wouldn’t get a job for my social skills after that snafu in Africa.”

“Don’t bring up classified material,” Chris snorts, in a way that makes it clear what he’s really saying is ‘please don’t remind me’.

Her grin stays on her face, half hidden through a few strands of blond hair. “I’ll keep a lid on it, big guy, promise.”

As Jill focuses the binoculars she can see that the castle has seen better days, but its an astonishingly beautiful edifice, rising into the sky with its parapets rivaling the mountain peak. Jill thinks she can see one of the curtains in the window rustle.

“Anyone live in that big fucking testament to early Eastern European architecture?” She points with her finger towards it.

“Yeah. One ‘Lady’ Dimitrescu, and her so-called daughters. They’re a part of the reason I’ve dragged you out here.”

Jill looks over at him with a wry smile, lowering the binoculars. “And I’m guessing it’s not \to play wingman to help get you a hot date?” The edge of humor is clear in her voice.

“In this scenario, I’m the wingman,” he says dryly.

“Oh boy.” Jill settles back, resting the binoculars on her gray camo pants. “I’ll break out the old Jill charm then.”

“What do you remember from the briefing on this situation?”

She thinks back to the mission briefing, and the countless heavy documents of prep she’d been sent.

The investigation of the village was based on old documents recovered from Umbrella files. Supposedly, the village was connected to the very founding of Umbrella and the beginnings of the bioweapon industry. All of the town’s leaders were suspected to have undergone some kind of bioweapon experimentation, and to be under the thumb of its true leader, a woman named Miranda, who was supposedly at least a hundred years old.

“A bit.” She looks at the castle through her binoculars again, zooming into the windows.

“We’ve got an unassuming little village in the middle of nowhere that’s got some old connection to Spencer and Umbrella, B.O.W’s as local leaders and a shadowy grandma at the head of it all, and it might have a connection to the boom of bioweapons in the last few decades….” She looks sidelong at him. “Right?”

“That’s about the size of it,” he nods. “Our initial idea was to infiltrate and take out the leaders one at a time, but our most recent intel has given us another… hmph… possibility.” Chris’ mouth puckers, and Jill can tell from experience he’s far from thrilled about whatever idea this might be.

“Ooh, Chris old pal, whatever it is you clearly hate it.” Jill leaned on her hand, looking firmly his way by now “lay it on me, huh?”

He snorts, and looks away from her, down at the village. “It’s the town leaders. The ‘Lords’ as the villagers call them. Initially we assumed they were fully beholden to Miranda, if not by real loyalty then through whatever method was used to create them. But it looks like that might not entirely be the case.”

“So you’re thinking we can somehow subvert and convince the Lords of this place to side with us?” she asks. “Sounds like a tall order, especially if this MIranda lady’s got her hooks in them deep.”

“I know. I don’t like it one bit. If I had my way we’d blow the place sky high without a second thought.”

“Not every problem can be solved with a well aimed tactical strike, no matter what the feds say.” Jill shifts to lean back, one leg dangling over the cliff’s face, the other raised for her to lean on. “I mean, that’s what leads to shit like the fallout from Raccoon City.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs grudgingly. “Which is why I’m willing to try it this way. What we’re asking you to do won’t be easy.”

“Since when have I been one for easy missions, Chris?” she asks with a lopsided grin. “I mean…it can’t be worse than Nemesis, right? Or hell…worse than trying to go toe to toe with my best friend.”

“For all I know, it could be,” he grumbles. “We need someone to go down there undercover. Deep cover. And get close to the Lords. Find out what they actually think. See if they’d be willing to turn against Miranda.”

“And you stick out like a sore thumb, Leon’s got ‘federal agent’ written all over him lately, and Claire’s still recovering from that whole nightmare on Sejm Island, right?” Jill leans forward to rest her head against her raised knee. “So I’m your best bet as a covert operative down there. You have a cover story for me?”

“Ops has two options for you. Lost hiker, or distant relation looking to reconnect with her roots.”

“Lost hiker sounds like a good way to scream ‘hey I’m disposable someone dump me in the B.O.W. Development Center.’ ” JIll chuckles darkly. “Distant relation at least gives me a foothold of ‘someone may give a shit if she vanishes’.”

“Yeah, that was what I figured you’d say,” he nods. “The problem there of course is we don’t know how far they’re willing to dig into family records. So that’s a risk. but a calculated one.”

“I’m willing to take the risk, especially if we can manage at least a cursory paper trail.”

“I wouldn’t send you in there without that much. I don’t like sending you in there at all.”

Jill leans over, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Chris. How many missions have we been on? Just because one went sour…doesn’t mean they all will. You know I can handle myself better than anyone. Trust me.”

She smiles. “We’re the best of the best, right? You and me?”

Chris sighs and gives her a smile, though it looks pained, and tired, and so much older than when they first met. He puts a hand on her shoulder. “I know if anyone can do it, it’s you. I just don’t want to lose you, not after everything we’ve been through.”

“I know it’s ‘classified’,” she says, putting her hand on his other shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “but we’ve made it through worse than this. I’m not gonna die on you now, partner.”

She flashes him a smile, though the weary age shows in her own expression. They’ve both been in the Bioweapons game long enough to know that nothing was ever easy…and it never ended. “I promise. Not in the middle of nowhere.”

---

Jill had a few days after the conversation to get ready for her mission. Intel put together her full cover story, and a bag for her to take with her. She’s had time to make phone calls and take care of things. Now, today is the day of her insertion.

She leans against the small metal sink, taking one last look in the mirror as she finishes working her hair into a bun. It was still blonde, the same pale, platinum blonde its been since Wesker ‘chemically encouraged her’ to his side during that little disaster in Kijuju. Her eyes linger lower, to the indented scar and its many sharp branches. Another memory of her time on the other side of the Bioweapon conflict.

Buttoning up the rest of her blouse to cover it up, she finishes the scant amount of makeup needed for the cover story, and gives herself one last long look in the eyes.

“You can do this, Jill. You’ve always been a people person, right? You used to be a master thief, so how hard can it be to steal a little intel.”

She nods in answer to herself, and turns away from the mirror at last to grab the heavy blue frock coat hanging on the bathroom door and throws it over her shoulders.

There’s a knock on the door, and Chris’ voice comes booming through it. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Chris!” she calls back, mentally checking over her self defense inventory.

There was a knife, much good it would do her, and sewn into the lining of her bag, a small gun with the serial numbers filed off. So she had that much at least. both otherwise? Clothes, passport with fake name. Flashlight. She’ll be basically on her own.

She opens the door and flashes her most confident smile. “You still worrying about me, partner?”

“Always,” Chris replies. ‘If I’m not worrying about you then I’m cold in the ground. C’mon. It’s time to go.”

Jill punches his shoulder with a half smile.

“Yeah, yeah yeah. I know, you big softie.” She chuckles as she grabs her bag from a nearby chair and throws it over her shoulder. “Let’s do a little last minute back and forth, get into character.”

“Seriously? You know how bad I am at this shit. But if you insist.” Chris snorts incredulously. He waves her out of the room to follow him. “What’s your name?”

“Talia Revenko,” she replies with an easy smile. It rolls off her tongue easily, practiced for days. “I’m trying to follow the roots of my family tree…get to know the homeland of my great-great grandparents.”

“Speak any romanian?” he asks, clearly struggling to keep the conversation going. Chris isn’t lying when he says he’s bad at these scenarios. The man is terrible with undercover work. He could never be anyone but himself.

“Only a bit. What my grandma taught me when I was little.” She brushes a stray lock of hair over her ear with a smile. “I’m hoping maybe to pick up some more through osmosis, though.”

“Uh… osmosis?” He furrows his brow.

“Cultural osmosis? Picking it up from the people around you? They say you learn a language better when you’re around people who speak it all the time.” she chuckles and punches his arm

“Uhuh,” he punches her back. “How long are you planning to stay?”

“I dunno yet.” She says with a shake of her head as she leans on the wall. “it depends, I guess. I’ve got enough money to float on for a while…and I’d really love to get to know my father’s side of the family history better. So you’ll probably see me around!”

“Yeah? Where are you staying?”

“I was hoping there was some kind of hostel I could crash in for a while before I could find more long term lodgings.” Jill crosses her arms “I think my family home’s long gone…the whole lot of them moved to America ages ago.”

“Good, you’re in character,” Chris growls, clearly having exhausted all of his material. “There’s a public house in the village that’ll be your best bet, unless you’re planning on just showing up on one of the Lord’s doorsteps.”

Jill winks “I told you, I’m really good at this kind of thing. Back before S.T.A.R.S. picked me up, I was one hell of a thief…and my conwoman skills weren’t half bad either.”

She stretches “Public house isn’t a bad option. You think it’d go well if I just knocked on that castle door? Or maybe headed on over to that smoking factory? Or hell, the haunted house on the hill. Think they’d welcome me with open arms?”

“It’s not what I’d do, that’s for sure. But from here on you’re the one in charge of this mission.”

She nods, taking a deep breath “I can handle it, Chris. I won’t let you down. I’ll infiltrate and try working my way to the Lords, one at a time. Any last minute advice on which to avoid tangoing with first?”

“Avoid the lake, and especially avoid the manor house on the hill. Supposedly nobody comes back from there alive.”

“Sounds real schlock horror movie, then.” Jill winks at him teasingly. “Alright…I’ll be careful to avoid those…for now. At least until I get more intel.”

“Good. And Jill…. good luck.” Chris surprises her– not usually that open with his emotions any more, he pulls her into a bear hug.

Jill blinks in brief surprise before she grabs him back in a tight hug, giving him a squeeze “thanks Chris. I’ll be alright. I promise.”

She rests her chin against his shoulder.

“We’re survivors. I’ll be back, promise.”