Part Two — Chapter Two: The Unexpected Reunion
RECORD P2-02
Knew You'd Have My Back
The abandoned mine swallowed the B.S.A.A. team one by one, the last traces of daylight disappearing behind them as they descended deeper into the mountain.
Every operative was equipped for a hostile environment—tactical gear, secured comms, rifles, sidearms, and enough ammunition to withstand a prolonged engagement.
Their movements were disciplined and deliberate, each step echoing through forgotten tunnels where rusted machinery and abandoned equipment had remained untouched for years.
Only the narrow beams of their flashlights pierced the darkness ahead, revealing decaying support structures, corroded rails and walls that hadn't seen daylight in decades.
Chris led the formation, as he always did.
His rifle remained raised, his eyes sweeping methodically across every corner, every doorway and every blind spot.
The mine had supposedly been abandoned.
It wasn't.
Fresh boot prints interrupted the layer of dust covering the ground.
Power cables disappeared into recently restored walls, and equipment that should have been buried beneath years of neglect looked as though someone had used it only hours ago.
Someone had been here.
Recently.
The team slowed instinctively, clearing each section before moving deeper into the facility.
"Area clear," Mitchell reported quietly.
Jill acknowledged him with a brief nod.
This was the first operation she'd worked alongside Chris' new second-in-command, and she found herself observing him as carefully as she observed the environment.
Mitchell looked every bit the experienced field operative.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Somewhere in his late thirties.
He carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had survived enough operations to know when to speak—and when not to.
He rarely raised his voice, yet the team responded immediately whenever he did.
Derek, by contrast, moved with an entirely different rhythm.
Where Mitchell relied on presence, Derek relied on precision.
Lean and quick on his feet, he navigated the narrow tunnels with practiced ease, his attention drifting naturally toward control panels, security systems and anything mechanical.
Chris hadn't chosen him for his strength.
He'd brought him because every mission eventually reached a door that refused to open.
Derek had a habit of changing that.
Chris suddenly raised a closed fist.
The team froze instantly.
Something felt off.
It wasn't simply the silence.
It was the feeling that the silence was waiting for them.
He advanced another few careful steps toward a heavy steel door leading deeper into what had once been the laboratory complex.
The door stood slightly ajar.
Not damaged.
Not forced.
Simply...
Open.
Chris exchanged a brief glance with Jill before carefully pushing it wider.
The room beyond was almost completely dark.
His flashlight swept methodically across concrete walls, abandoned workstations and overturned equipment.
Nothing.
Then—
Movement.
A figure stepped out of the shadows.
Chris reacted on instinct, his rifle already aimed before conscious thought caught up.
The stranger mirrored the movement just as quickly, raising a handgun with practiced precision.
For several long seconds, neither of them moved.
Chris couldn't make out a face.
Only the outline.
Tactical gear.
Controlled posture.
Professional weapon handling.
Whoever stood opposite him knew exactly what they were doing.
"Identify yourself."
Chris' voice echoed through the empty laboratory.
The answer came immediately.
Calm.
Steady.
Familiar.
"Leon S. Kennedy."
A brief pause.
"D.S.O."
For the briefest moment, Chris forgot about the rifle in his hands.
Because he'd recognize that voice anywhere.
FILE NAVIGATION
← Previous Record: P2-01 — Home
Master Story Index
Next Record: P2-03 — Old Friends, New Secrets →
