Best of Intentions: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked (ch. 24)

It wasn't often that Ada found herself impressed, but it was hard not to be when Rude presented to them what he called a ‘Veil’. 

“This here doodad is something I whipped up to aid in our infiltration of Rockfort Island,” Rude informed, reaching up to behind his ear and pressing something. In response, his face rippled to take on the appearance of Chris. The burley man's head was completely at odds with Rude's lanky build, at least until a hologram emerged from the neck down to render him into a complete replica of the larger man. 

“Okay, I don't like that,” Chris voiced, his tone awed and uncomfortable in equal measure.

“The Veil is a holographic face mask that can store up to five appearances, and can create new ones on the fly with enough visual data. You can create an appearance with incomplete data, but the Veil will be filling in the blanks with best guesses,” Rude continued, using Chris’ voice and making the man himself look vaguely horrified. Taking pity on him, Rude reached back to his ear and pressed it again. This time, it was Ada who stood before them. 

Ada's eyes narrowed into slits, “Height differences don't matter?” She questioned, her mind already pondering all the fun she could get up to with such a tool. Rude was tall and lanky, and there was about a foot of difference in height between them. Yet, there was no sign of it in the reflection of her that stood before them. In terms of appearance it was perfect, but there was a very Rude smirk on her face and his posture was all wrong. 

“To a degree. You can make yourself taller or shorter by a foot, but that adds complications,” Rude informed, reaching out for a pen on a table in the back of the Bus, only for her arms to prove too short while Rude grasped it with an invisible hand. “But, with the Veil, less is more. If Ada was using it and she took on my appearance, the hologram would bleed through like so,” he said, and Ada watched as she gained a foot of height. That was a strange sight, but she saw that he was right -- her fingers were clipping through the pen. 

Then her appearance vanished and once more, Rude was standing before them.

Ada felt a thrill of excitement race down her spine. “So, it's best used to mimic someone close to our height and used in conjunction with some old school tools of disguise,” she mused, a sly smile tugging at her lips. Pumps or heel pads for height, wigs and makeup to minimize the coverage of the Veil. Ideally, she would only use it to cover her face -- the rest could be covered with a general disguise. Makeup for skin tone on her hands, long sleeves or dresses to cover the rest of her body. “How long can the disguise last?” 

“Under normal circumstances? An hour,” Rude answered easily. Not ideal, but still very useful for getting in or out a target location. “That’s why you’ll be using it in conjunction with these…” he continued, having already identified the problem and presenting a pale blue stone to them next. “This is a battery. Each one lasts for an hour. To replace them, just swap out the batteries like so-” he said, plucking something behind the other ear and placing the new battery in. “They do recharge, but slowly. A full day for each battery.” 

Meaning that with enough batteries, one could maintain the disguise for however long they needed. 

She was impressed. Very much so. The grappling hook and remote hacker had been her favorite toys as of late, but she was pretty sure she found a new favorite. But, as impressed as she was, she felt… apprehensive. Simply because she could see it clear as day on his face and in his eyes as he reached up to pull off the shimmering Veil from his face to return it to the head of the mannequin he had taken it from. In Rude's eyes, the Veil was nothing special. It was a tool that he spent all of ten hours creating, by her estimation. 

Rude was direct. A straight shooter if there ever was one. Like with the rest of his seemingly impossible technology, it didn't seem to sink in how dangerous everything that he created was. That Veil? In the wrong hands- in her hands? 

She could bring nations to their knees if she felt like it. There wasn't a door in the world that wouldn't be open to her. Honestly, the Veil was so disgustingly powerful that Ada wasn't sure she wanted one because it'd make the game almost… too easy. Where was the challenge when God mode was enabled? 

“How are we going to infiltrate Rockfort Island?” Jill questioned, looking at the table behind Rude. There were three Veils, meaning that a team of three would be slipping in. She hoped that she would be one of them. Overpowered or not, she had never seen a toy that she hadn't wanted to play with before. 

“Three of you will be ‘recruited,’ Rude answered easily. He grabbed three folders -- one went to her, one went to Rebecca, and one went to Leon. Ada opened hers as Rude continued to lay out the plan. “You'll be disguised as three mid-tier researchers in three different fields as Ashford has become a tad more selective with the remnants that he's picking up from Umbrella. Ideally, all three of you will be picked up as I've seeded enough bait into your resumes, but if we only get one that'll still be a win.” 

“And if none of us get selected?” Ada questioned, reading through a surprisingly comprehensive dossier. Amelia Rosewood, field researcher. 5’7, thirty-two years old, divorced, no children. Grew up in Texas, moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts to get double degrees in virology and infectious diseases at Harvard University. Graduated at the age of twenty five. Recruited to Umbrella out of college and spent the past seven years with the company. One black mark against her early in her career for ethical concerns, but a hearing saw that smoothed away and since then she had been a diligent employee. 

It was solid work. It told a comprehensive story, didn't stand out too much, while giving the identity some weight. Further in the file was an information docket about her assumed identity -- pictures of where she grew up, a few previous boyfriends, names of friends in school and college, her divorce lawyer, a list of references... Umbrella was thorough with its recruitment. They wouldn't have gotten away with a fraction of what they had if they didn't vet their talent relentlessly. What she held in her hands felt like it could stand up to their standards. 

“Then we bag some of the personnel that they've already hired and have you pose as them,” Rude answered swiftly. “It'd be less ideal on account of the added risk getting in and out though. That, and the identities that you assume could already have relationships within Rockfort Island that could give you away if you're suddenly behaving differently.” 

“Once we're inside, then what?” Leon asked, looking through his folder with a hint of apprehension. For the past two months, they had been bringing him up to speed -- he had talent. A rare kind of talent, to just adapt to whatever was thrown at him and persevere through the struggle. He would have been wasted as a cop, though Ada wasn't so sure that the hat of a spy was any better a fit. Too honest and genuine. 

“Information, primarily. The who, what, when, where, and why. Identify priority assets, what they’re working on, and where it is. That, and to open the door for the assault team consisting of Chris, Jill, Carlos, and Kevin. I'll remain on the Bus as overwatch,” Rude answered as he turned on the TV. Crisp satellite images appeared on the screen -- Ada wasn't sure what ‘8k resolution’ was, but she was a fan of it. Kevin was in love. “The priority targets are as follows: Information about Umbrella and where its other remnants have scattered off to. What Ashford is working on. And, lastly, Alfred Ashford himself.” 

It was a clean cut mission. Not entirely too different than what she usually did when things got complicated on a job. And that made her wonder -- her profile as an FBI agent was rocksolid. It had been some of her best work, to the point that she could have requested a transfer within the FBI, and she'd receive it and a salary. 

Yet it didn't exactly feel like happenstance that she had been selected for this mission. She hadn't survived this long by underestimating people, and Ada was determined to never underestimate Rude -- the man pulled a death ray out of his ass and shot a city in half. In a month, he’d gone from penniless to a millionaire with his investments portfolio, and he built a plane that wouldn't be matched by any military in the world for decades, if then. No. Underestimating Rude was the single stupidest thing that anyone could do at this point, and Ada was no fool. 

‘Which means that he knows,’ Ada thought to herself without any panic. It wasn't as if Rude was going to take out a gun and suddenly shoot her - he'd had ample opportunity to get rid of her without anyone knowing. No, he knew about who she was. What she did. But, all the same, she got invited into ‘Storm.’ She nearly snorted at the thought of the group’s name, and the memory of how Rude had dug his heels in when they all made fun of it. 

What that meant at this stage? Ada wasn't sure. Rude didn't seem to be the type to get distracted by a pretty face. And Ada was pretty sure that he and Jill were playing a game of ‘will they, won't they?’ Was he trying to bring her to the side of the angels? Maybe, but that also didn't fit the profile she had built of Rude. 

Rude was a man who could look a squad of hardened mercenaries in the eyes and threaten to burn them to death, then bring them back from the dead just to kill them with fire once more. HUNK, Umbrella’s personal Grim Reaper, had backed down in the face of Rude’s wrath, and that said more than words could ever hope to. 

The third option… was that he knew who her latest employer was and he was using her to smoke him out. That felt more inline with Rude’s profile, though she supposed he could always be multi-tasking. He was quite good at that. 

The meeting continued as the rest of the team learned their roles -- mainly Rebecca needed reassurance on how to be a spy, if only for a few hours. All the while, Ada pondered her next move. There was no panic that influenced her decision one way or another. In the end, she had been in this situation plenty of times before. 

Those that hired her tended to be the type to tie off loose ends, and being a freelance spy and mercenary didn't exactly inspire trust. She was used to being three wrong moves from death and constantly aware of a dagger aimed at her back. Rude would kill her if he felt like he had to, but he'd rather not have to. Combined with the knowledge she suspected that he had… 

Yeah. He was giving her a chance and using her to flush out who sent her for samples of the T-Virus. That gave her room to maneuver… but it also complicated things a great deal. 

Namely, Ada was less than certain in her ability to survive betraying Rude and ‘Storm.’ Rude had built a fortune and a shadow organization in a month and a half. In days, he’d built technology that would enable them to infiltrate and subvert any organization or nation on the planet. She could only imagine what he would have up his sleeve by the end of the year. 

Which, realistically, left her two choices. She could come clean to Rude, and risk telling him what he didn't know or suspect… or hedge her bets and play both sides for as long as she could. 

Ada smiled to herself, closing her folder with flourish. She knew herself, and there was never a shred of doubt on what she would do. Come clean? Cross her fingers and hope? There were two things that Ada loved with the entirety of her heart -- risk and danger. 

And Rude was the most dangerous man she had ever met. 

…

“So, it's like… a normal interview?” Rebbeca asked, trying to still her bouncing foot as she sat in a coffee shop in Sydney, Australia. She had been preparing for the mission for a week now -- learning her backstory, and how to respond to questions that the dossier hadn't prepared her for. She also got used to wearing the Veil, which sat upon her face like a second skin. But, now that she was here, in the moment… the nerves were getting to her. 

“Basically,” Rude’s voice echoed in her ear through an earpiece. “Rebecca Wilks has made the short list -- you have the qualifications that they're looking for, but they're wary of infiltration. They're going to vet you and if it goes well, then you’ll receive coordinates somewhere in Australia where you'll then be brought to Rockfort Island. At least, that's how it worked for Ada.” 

Rebbeca Wilks. They chose the same first name so she'd respond to it more naturally. She didn't have the makings for a spy -- that had been a little disappointing to find out. Especially in comparison to Ada, who adopted her new identity as if it were the real thing. But she understood the reasoning for why she had been chosen. She didn't need any coaching through the science. 

At eighteen, she’d already had a PhD in Chemistry, and in the months since the Mansion, she had earned enough credits to add a Masters degree in Virology. By the time she turned nineteen, that would have become another PhD. She had also looked into taking classes in biochemical engineering. Rude didn't need to feed her answers when dealing with technical or research related questions like he did with Leon and Ada.

“Who else is trying to infiltrate them? They don't know about us, right?” Rebecca questioned, pinching her coffee cup a little tighter before bringing it to her lips. The hologram of the Veil didn't distort as it was layered barely a centimeter above her true face. Her hair was blonde, her skin had the kind of pallor that came from a lifetime spent in a lab, while she looked entirely different. 

“Tricell, for one. But I'm seeing signs that Ashford isn't the only one attempting to pick up the pieces of Umbrella,” Rude answered and she resisted the urge to look up from the balcony she sat on overlooking the busy streets of Sydney. Above her, she knew the Bus hovered silently, ready to react in case there was any danger. Likewise, Rude’s personal robot that he named Kaboom was under the table, ready to respond immediately. “The signs are all there -- talent being poached, sabotage, and so on. But, at this stage, we can't be sure if it's Tricell, other remnants of Umbrella trying to reform, or various governments trying to get their grubby little hands on talent and data.” 

“And you're hoping the Ashfords will know more?” She ventured and she heard a noise of agreement coming from Rude. 

“They're on guard, so I'm hoping that they're smart enough to investigate who is trying to infiltrate them and why. Not going to cross my fingers, though. They are Umbrella after all,” Rude elaborated, his tone so utterly dismissive that it was hard not to be a little amused. He took every single opportunity to poke fun at Umbrella, and he didn't care how many twists and turns he had to take in order to diminish them. Jill was convinced it was because he was… he was an escaped experiment of Umbrella and that was how he coped. 

Rebecca saw it differently. Umbrella had been filled to the brim with some of the most brilliant, driven, and capable scientific researchers the world had to offer. The competition was so fierce that Rebecca needed to pad her resume before she even thought about applying for some of their research positions. And not a single one of them held a candle to Rudeus Rain. 

She worked with him over the course of a month and a half, and she learned more in that time than she had years in college just to keep up with him. It was little wonder that Rude thought that Umbrella exclusively employed morons -- he was comparing them to himself, so of course he found them lacking.

Science was a slow process. Incremental, with every step forward challenged, judged, verified, and only after years of scrutiny would a single step be accepted by the scientific community. That wasn't how Rude operated at all. He would just look at something, have a breakthrough that would be miles ahead of the rest of the world, then just kinda look at you like a confused puppy when he had to explain the six or seven lesser scientific breakthroughs he reached to get to that conclusion. He was so far ahead of the rest of them that he was a distant figure on the road of progress.

She would never, ever, not in her life, forget the moment when he referred to a semi-perpetual motion generator as third rate trash-

“Clocked the recruiter. He's on his way. You have ten minutes,” Rude interrupted her thoughts and Rebecca forced herself to not react. She finished her coffee in a haste, and rehearsed her lines. She was ready. As ready as she could be, at least. Ada had been recruited five days ago, and everything had worked out for her. But… 

“This will work, right?” Rebecca asked, finding herself more nervous as she spied the recruiter approaching the coffee shop. 

“People only think to look for what they expect,” Rude quickly reassured her. “The fact that he's coming for the interview means that your background has checked out. The in-person interview is to double-check, and something like the Veil is the last thing that they would expect. No, they're going to be more concerned that you're a plant for another company, but that's business as usual for these kinds of gigs.” Meaning that she would be watched for signs of duplicity, but the fact that she would be interviewed at all meant that they didn't expect any from her. 

She nodded to herself, and then her gaze went to the recruiter. He was a middle-aged man with a touch of gray at the temples, wearing a well-fitted business suit and a pair of thin glasses. “Mrs. Wilks,” he greeted, and they shook hands before he took a seat across from her. “I hope I didn't keep you waiting.” 

“Oh, no -- I just wanted to make sure I was here on time,” Rebecca half-tittered, her nervousness spiking. There was no reason for it, but she half expected him to just see through the Veil and rip it off her face to expose her. But there wasn't a sign that he noticed as he set a briefcase next to his chair and steepled his hands together on the table. 

“I see. In that case, in the interest of not wasting any more of your time… let us conduct the interview,” he began, reaching down to his briefcase, and Rebecca’s heart nearly jumped out of her throat. Would he see Kaboom? Would- apparently not, as he grabbed it, opened it, and took out a manila folder and flipped it open. “What is it that you seek by joining Lord Ashford’s employ?” 

This was… the exact same question that she had been prepped for. The same question that they had asked Ada. Did they not… personalize things a bit?

“Because I believe Lord Ashford represents the same vision that I joined Umbrella for -- the advancement of humanity,” Rebecca replied, as she had been coached. “Science is the pure pursuit of intellectual development and progress, and it shouldn’t be hindered in any capacity.”

“And what is said about the Raccoon City… incident, doesn’t deter you?” He asked, and Rebecca tilted her head ever so slightly, exactly as Ada had instructed. 

“Why would it?” She asked, and she was glad that the Veil was able to convey the tone that she tried to utter the insane words with. She wouldn’t have been a fraction as convincing without the Veil. Just as she was thankful that it kept her true expression off her face because the man nodded, as if that had been exactly what he wished to hear. 

From that point, the rest of the interview was a formality. She had been grilled harder defending her thesis, and when she had been recruited into STARS. The man rattled off questions like he had a script, and it was a script that she had already read. Her answers weren’t identical to the ones that Ada had given, but they were in the same vein -- that she was an amoral scientist who didn’t care about human suffering in the slightest if it meant taking even a half step forward in the name of progress. 

Rude was scathing about Umbrella, and he never hid that animosity for them. Which is why he had disqualified himself from infiltration, Rebecca reasoned. That being said, he wasn’t exactly wrong about them. Ashford was looking for a specific type of recruit for his organization, which seemed to be amoral sociopaths. 

Within fifteen minutes, the interview was over. By the end of it, she had almost started to relax as there were no sudden curveball questions or something entirely off script. It was almost pleasant, really. By the end of it, the man thanked her for her time, though made no indication that she had met the criteria beyond a vague allusion to keeping her phone close. 

It was a day later that she received a text with a set of coordinates that would take her to the east coast of Australia. The nerves were back when she drove out to the coordinates, though she took reassurance in the fact that the Bus was overhead every step of the way. When she arrived at the coordinates, there was nothing there for a long few minutes before there were the sounds of a helicopter approaching. 

Rebecca watched with some apprehension as it approached, squinting her eyes with the hope that the dust that was kicked up would interfere with the Veil, but when the recruiter gestured for her to get on the helicopter, they didn’t seem to be aware. She found herself seated down, a pair of headphones placed over her ears, with the recruiter seated across from her with a paid of paramilitary officers. 

“Welcome to the team, Mrs. Wilks,” the recruiter said as they took off, leaving someone behind to drive the vehicle back. “It’ll be a short journey to the research site, so take a moment and relax,” he said, and she supposed that even if her face was artificial she still gave her nerves away with her body language. 

‘We’re right above you,’ Rude remarked through the earpiece, and that let her take a breath and calm down. Nothing was going to happen. And Ada would already be there on Rockfort Island. Everything was going to be fine, and she forced herself to believe it. 

She turned her gaze out of the window, watching the land transform into a stretch of ocean. They couldn’t be too far away given the range limitations of a helicopter, and she was right on the mark because it wasn’t that much longer before she saw it. Rockfort Island. 

It wasn’t a particularly large island, she quickly noted. It jutted out of the water like an ugly lumpy rock, barely a few miles long and wide. She supposed that for a secret base, it was ideal as there was nothing that would take a ship or plane anywhere near it without it being the destination. As the helicopter banked, she saw the base in question -- it was nestled into an alcove at the base of the central mountain, and the water, nearly blending in with the rest of the dull environment but not quite. 

The helicopter was set down on a pad, and she was ushered out. The nerves were back as she got out, but she swallowed them down. She had backup, both within the base and without. And Rude had made it absolutely clear that he was more than willing, downright eager even, to wipe the island off the face of the Earth at the slightest provocation. 

She had survived the Manor. 

She could survive this.