@stratcom-agent-kennedy
The year is 2005, Umbrella has been on the decline and tearing itself apart for the last seven years. For years he’d worked under Umbrella, and for years he’d been under the command of one handler. While Umbrella would fall to pieces in the wake of the governments response to the Raccoon City incident, this man was confident in his ability to remain clean and safe. The mission he’d been handed was clear. Tie up any loose ends, end any scientist capable of replicating or selling classified information, and collect any samples he could get his hands on. He’d expected some resistance, perhaps from BOW’s and not the sort he’d received.
He recognized the face from the files Umbrella kept, even in their steady and inevitable decline. A standoff, sub-machine gun aimed and itching finger hovering over the welcoming steel of the trigger, while the other man’s did the same with his weapon. “You’ve had a busy couple of years, Leon Kennedy. South America, Spain, Harvardville, and now here--” They’d never met before, never had an encounter, yet they’d danced around one another’s locations quite a few times. “Seems we’re at a stand still for the time being, aren’t we?”
