Birkin!
She heard the second shot – and then she was hit, shoved out of the way and falling to the cold floor as Leon cried out in pain and surprise, his warm bulk landing on top of her. Ada took a deep breath, shocked and amazed as she understood what had happened, as Leon rolled off of her and clutched at his arm. She heard running footsteps and Leon's harsh panting, and sat up.
Oh, my God. No shit.
He'd taken a bullet. For her. Ada stumbled to her feet, bending over him.
"Leon!"
He looked up at her, jaw clenched against the pain. Blood seeped through the fingers of his hand, pressed to his left armpit. "I'm… okay," he gasped, and although his face was pale, his eyes clouded with suffering, she thought he was probably right. It undoubtedly hurt like a son of a bitch, but it wouldn't – shouldn't kill him.
It would have killed me, Leon saved my life…
And on the tail of that thought, Annette Birkin. Still alive. "That woman," she blurted, the guilt hitting her even as she turned to run. "I have to talk to her." Ada took off, sprinting around the corner and down the hall, the door at the end standing open. Leon would live, he would be fine, and if she could catch up to Annette, this whole goddamn nightmare would be over. She'd studied the file photos, she knew it was Birkin's wife and if, by chance, the woman wasn't carrying a sample, she'd sure as hell know where one was. She ran through the door and stopped short of jumping into yet another water-filled tunnel, pausing just long enough to listen, to scan the surface of the rippling murk. No splashing sounds, and there were still lapping waves to the left…… and a ladder bolted to the wall, leading up to a fan shaft.
… goes to operations.
Ada plunged into the water and made for the ladder. There was a hallway farther along, but it was a dead end; Annette would surely have opted for es– cape. She quickly scaled the metal rungs, refusing to let herself think about Leon (because he was fine) as she peered through the shaft and saw that it was clear. Mrs. Doctor was probably still running, but Ada wasn't going to walk into another bullet. Through the shaft, a quick peek past the dead, massive blades of the vent fan at the far end, and back down another ladder. The giant two-story chamber that housed the sewage-treatment machines was emp– ty of life, as cold and industrial and strewn with equipment as she'd expected. There was a hydraulic bridge that spanned the room, raised to the level she'd exited on – which meant that Annette must have gone down via the west ladder, the only other way out. Ada flipped through her mental maps as she started across the bridge, remembering that it went down into one of the treatment center's dumping grounds…
"Drop it, you bitch!"
Behind her. Ada halted, feeling a pain inside – the pain of a hearty slap to the ego. The second time she'd screwed up, badly, in as many minutes, but there was no way she was going to obey Annette's hysterical command. The woman's aim was for shit and Ada tensed, preparing to drop, to spin and fire… Barn-ping! The shot hit the floor next to Ada's right foot, glancing off the rusting bridge. Annette had her. Ada dropped the Beretta, raising her hands slowly, turning to face the scientist.
Jesus, I deserve to die for this…
Annette Birkin walked toward her, a Browning nine-millimeter trembling wildly in one outstretched hand. Ada winced inwardly at the sight of that shaking gun, but saw a possible opportunity as An– nette moved closer, finally coming to a stop less than ten feet in front of her.
Too close. Too close, and she's right on the edge of a
total collapse, isn't she?
"Who are you? What's your name?!"
Ada swallowed heavily, putting a stutter into her voice. "Ada, Ada Wong. Please don't shoot, please, I haven't done anything…"Annette frowned, backing up a step. "Ada… Wong. I know that name – Ada, that was John's girlfriend's name…" Ada's mouth dropped open. "Yes, John Howe! But… how did you know? Do you know where he is?" The disheveled scientist glared at her. "I know because John worked with my husband, William. You've heard of him, of course – William Birkin, the man responsible for the creation of the T-Virus."
Annette fairly glowed with a mix of pride and despair as she spoke, giving Ada hope; it was a weakness that she could use. Ada had read the files on William Birkin – read about his steady climb through Umbrella's hierarchy, the advances in virology and genetic sequencing… and about the scientific ambi– tion that had made him a veritable sociopath. It looked as though his wife was operating on a similar plane – which meant that the Mrs. would have no problem pulling the trigger.
Play it dumb, and don't give her a reason to doubt it. "T-Virus? What's…" Ada blinked, then widened her eyes. "Doctor Birkin? Wait, the Doctor Birkin, the biochemist?"
She saw a flash of pleasure cross Annette's face, but then it was gone, and there was only despair. Despair and the flickering of bitter madness, deep in her bloodshot eyes. "John Howe is dead," she said coldly, "he died three months ago at the Spencer estate. My condo-lences, but then, you're about to join him, aren't you? You're not going to take the G-Virus away from me, you can't have it!" Ada started to shake all over. "G-Virus? Please, I don't know what you're talking about!" "You know," Annette snarled. "Umbrella sent you to steal it, you can't lie to me! William's dead to me now, Umbrella took him from me, they forced him to use it! They forced him…"
She trailed off, her gaze suddenly far away. Ada Tensed, but then Annette was back, her eyes welling up with tears, the weapon pointed at Ada's face. "A week ago, they came," she whispered. "They came to take it, and they shot my William when he wouldn't give them the samples. They took the case, they took all of the finals, both series – except for the one that he managed to keep, the G-Virus…"
Annette's voice raised into a shout suddenly, a pathetic and somehow pleading shout. "He was dy-ing, don't you see? He didn't have any choice!" Ada understood. She understood all of it. "He injected himself, didn't he?"
The scientist nodded, her limp blond hair falling across her eyes, her voice a whisper again. "It revi-talizes cellular function. It… it changed him. I didn't see – what he did, but I saw the bodies of the men who tried to kill him, afterwards… and I heard the screams."
Ada took a step closer, reaching out as if to comfort her, her own features set into a mask of sympathy, but Annette thrust the gun at her again. Even in her sorrow, she wasn't going to let Ada get any closer.
But it's almost close enough… "I'm so sorry," Ada said, lowering her arms. "So the G-Virus, it leaked, it changed all of Raccoon…" Annette shook her head. "No. When the Umbrella assassins were stopped, the case was broken. The T-Virus leaked – the lab workers hit by the airborne were contained, but there were rats, you see. Rats in the sewers…" She paused, her lips trembling. "… unless Wil-liam, my sweet William has started to reproduce. Implanting embryos, replicating… it shouldn't be time for that yet, but I…"
She broke off, her eyes narrowing, the madness sweeping over her again as visibly as a crashing wave. High color flared in her pale cheeks, her red-rimmed eyes glossy with paranoia.
Get ready… "You can't have it!" Annette screamed, spittle flying from her cracked lips. "He gave his life to keep it from you, you're a spy and you can't have it…"
Ada ducked and leapt, pistoning both of her arms beneath Annette's, shoving the gun up and away from both of them. The Browning discharged, sending a round clanging off the ceiling as they fought for control of the weapon. Annette was physically weaker, but she was driven by demons of hatred and loss, the edge of insanity lending her strength -