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Leon S. Kennedy did not want to be in Brazil in October.
Specifically, he didn’t want to be trekking through the Amazon Basin in record-breaking heat, close to the Amazon River.
Not with the Hound Wolf Squad, and definitely not on his own.
The weather was hot, humid, sweat soaking every inch of his frame despite staying hydrated as much as possible and sticking under the generous tree cover as they walked along the banks of the river towards the latest report of B.O.W. activity. His only consolation was that he wasn’t alone with the hungry predators in the forest, and that the Wolves and their Captain looked just as hot and miserable as he did.
Chris Redfield was a soaked, annoyed, overheated beast of a man. One look at his face suggested that talking to him for any reason outside of an emergency would get you a one-way ticket straight into the afterlife.
The Wolves were walking a few paces behind their Alpha, Kennedy walking beside the massive man as they made their way through. About halfway through their four-mile trek, a thirteen-foot male Black Caiman came surging over with territorial hissing when they dared to walk too close to where he was sunbathing on the riverbank.
Without missing a beat, Redfield landed a kick right to the side of the snout, catching the jaw with an audible impact, stunning the beast and sending it careening backwards. When the current mate of the male turned to attack, he just pointed and growled,
“You’re fucking next.”
The female thought hard on the matter, backing away and sinking into the river as her temporary mate finally righted himself and retreated as well.
“A little testy today, huh?” Kennedy quipped, somehow not flinching when those stormy-blue eyes swung over to him with a scowl.
He got an irritated huff, before Redfield resumed walking on the edge of the riverbank to keep Leon on the inside of the trail. Stifling a snicker, he winked at the gobsmacked Wolves that had just watched their Alpha send the apex predator of the Amazon River packing with a kick and a death threat.
Finding a new way to amuse himself and distract from his paranoia of enormous man-eating snakes, Kennedy continued needling Chris as they went.
“Is it the swamp ass that’s got you so grumpy today? It’s hot as hell. Have you had enough water? You’re a bitch when you’re dehydrated.”
Nothing but a scowl.
“Poor Caimans were looking for a meal. Boot Sandwich wasn’t on their list of choices, I bet you’re gonna get a one-star review from that couple.”
Another irritated huff.
“It’s a shame that L had to go on that conference and couldn’t be here. I’m sure she’d be cracking jokes and petting bugs or something. Not punting the wildlife. She’s much nicer than you are.”
Something close to a growl came out of Chris.
“I’m betting it’s the swamp ass. Balls probably stuck to one of your legs by now, and you smell ripe enough to drive away a swarm of maggots. Can’t be easy in this heat, Bearfield.” Not true, Chris didn’t stink of body odor yet, but Leon was pushing buttons for fun.
A low rumbling of irritation made its way up and out of Redfield’s massive chest, head turning to level Kennedy with a glare that invited him to say one more word.
“There it is!” Chuckling and pausing as Chris curled a lip and kept going.
The Squad shuffled a little nervously when the deep, ominous rumbling continued from their Alpha for the next two minutes while Leon narrated like he was in a wildlife documentary.
“Today we are deep in the Amazon Basin of Brazil. The animals here are quite bold, normally undisturbed by the passing of humans through their home. A territorial pair of Black Caimans decided to explore the nutrition potential of our party, but wisely reconsidered their meal options when presented with a size ten and a half steel-toed combat boot of the Alpha of the visiting Wolf Pack.”
Umber Eyes and Piers were struggling to keep their snickers silent, Canine shaking his head with a grin.
“After the brief delay with the crocodilian interaction, the Alpha of the Wolf Pack resumed the journey with both irritation and increased speed. When questioned on his state of being in the humid temperatures, he responded with noises that indicated he would soon require nourishment and hydration.”
Tundra suppressed a giggle by shoving her hand over her mouth just in time as Lobo snorted.
“As the temperature continues to soar through the mid-afternoon, the Alpha grows more restless without the presence of his Mate. Forced to be confined to the urban jungle of New York City, the Alpha’s Mate is unable to bring any semblance of peace to the Wolf Pack. When this was pointed out, a deeply personal and aggressive response was triggered; the Redfield Rumble, scientific name, Upseticus Bearfieldus Response.”
Night Howl finally lost it, cracking up with laughter and setting off the rest of the Squad as a snort came from Chris just up ahead of them. Looking to the heavens, Redfield groaned.
“Spare me from this lunatic, please.” His cellphone rang suddenly, startling everyone.
“Tell your boyfriend if he says he's got beef, that I'm a vegetarian and I ain't fucking scared of him! She wants to touch me! Whoa, oh! She wants to love me. Whoa, oh!”
Answering quickly, Leon almost falling over at the sudden lyrics and timing.
“Your son has fucking cracked, Líle.” No greeting, straight to business.
“Which one?” Very amused.
“Kennedy. I think you should bite him again, see if that fixes the problem.” Leon snorted and Piers was wheezing.
“Have ye tried turning him off and back on again?”
“Little too public for that, and I don’t blow for free anymore.”
“Anymore?” Leon croaked, tears leaking as he was laughing too hard.
“Rough childhood.” Redfield answered automatically, not registering the bomb he’d just dropped on the Wolves and Kennedy. “When we get back, gonna need you to bite the shit out of him and try a factory reset.”
“I’ll see what I can do for ye, Big Boy.” There was a rumbling in the background of her end, before what sounded like an explosion and the loud cursing of Jake Muller. “Bloody hell, Son of Wesker! What the fuck?!”
“Didn’t know they’d fuckin’ follow me all the way to Brazil!”
“Líle?” Redfield’s brows knit straight together as they all overhead a secondary explosion, but closer like an echo not far from their location.
“Trust the fuckin’ ginger to get us fuckin’ blown out the sky!” The loud cursing was cut off with an enormous crash and the connection severed.
Redfield looked at the phone in his hand with both horror and amusement warring for dominance.
“Alpha? Is Luna…?” Tundra trailed off.
“I am sure she’s headed in our direction, and a crash won’t slow her much. Wonder what the hell she’s doing with Muller though.” He heaved a sigh and rubbed his face with a huge hand before pocketing his phone once more.
“Chris… When we get back home, I think we need to have a chat about what you dropped on us.”
“Huh?”
“Rough childhood?” Leon raised a brow. He was startled to see Chris’ left eye fully twitch and his knees tremble like he was avoiding dropping to the ground. PTSD trigger discovered.
“That? Yeah. No. Not talking about that. Let’s move out, want to get this B.O.W. hunt done before sundown.”
“Okay, but you get one for free. I didn’t know that was one of your hot spots.”
“Noted.” Chris grunted. Stalking off, they had no choice but to follow the Captain until they had reached a small village that had been reported as hostile.
“A free one of what?” Piers asked quietly.
“Your Papa and I have a deal. If one of us triggers a PTSD flashback, the other one gets to trigger the one who did it, so we don’t have to suffer alone.” Leon shrugged.
“Shit. That’s a little fucked up.” Umber’s eyes were wide as that was revealed. Of course the Squad had known that Kennedy and Alpha carried trauma, but they hadn’t expected the pair to willingly trigger one another to cope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The village was a cross between modern concrete and brick, versus traditional oca that denoted a sharp cultural discrepancy between the residents. In the center of the riverside village was a massive pit, with an unholy stench of rotting flesh and the buzz of flies coming from it. The team could hear and see the tentacles of something mutated flicking at the bars of the heavy grate that covered the B.O.W.’s prison. Zombies infected with the A-Virus prowled the perimeter of the village, as if sensing that they were about to be invaded.
After speedy reconnaissance, Chris and Leon prioritized taking out the prowlers first, the B.O.W. second, and anyone putting up resistance about killing the monsters, third.
It started off well, the Wolves and Kennedy surrounding the small village and luring off the zombies one by one, eliminating them as swiftly and silently as possible. They were ready to take down the monster in the pit when they heard a woman’s pained scream. From one of the ocas emerged a large man, grasping and half-dragging a heavily pregnant woman towards the pit.
From what Leon could tell, he was intending to drop her in as a meal and example to the rest of the villagers, and Kennedy struggled not to vomit. Redfield looked just as green when he gave the signal to intervene. They were met with strong resistance in the form of rocket launchers and AK-47s from armed men keeping a path cleared for the man dragging the woman. Who decided that the other villagers could be used as human shields to prevent their own deaths by the American invaders.
Swearing, they took cover and let Piers and Umber Eyes start their sharpshooting to headshot the ones with the rocket launchers first. Just as the main villain was five feet away from the tentacles wrapped around the containment grate, the undergrowth near the river parted and out came a distraction that nobody could ignore.
A slightly bloodied, wild-eyed, muddy L with torn clothing and bare feet came running out at full speed, yelling in Gaeilge. Around her left arm a Fer-de-lance Viper was coiled, on her right an Amazonian Coral Snake, and a massive sixteen-foot Green Anaconda slithered at speed behind her from the river. Going straight for the heart of the problem, the Wolves watched as she shouted and tossed her arms forward, the snakes launching towards the hostile men with machine guns, sending them scattering and becoming much easier to pick off. The anaconda was busy chasing wayward gunners as L zipped around. Keeping up the pace, she growled and tackled the man in front of the pit, nudging the pregnant woman to run to freedom. She shoved him into a hole in the grating, not bothering to watch as he was eaten by the monster.
The ever-composed-in-battle Captain Christopher Redfield burst out into deep, rolling belly laughter as the remainder of the resistance was eliminated.
Leon looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Am I missing the joke?” He huffed, crossing his arms. Redfield made a pinching motion with his thumb and index finger, wheezing another laugh as his mirth slowly subsided.
“She’s pissed.” Unable to keep his lips from curving upwards into a smile.
“And that’s funny, how?” Canine asked.
“What she said.”
“You understood that, Alpha?” Umber’s head tilted.
“Most of it, yeah. She came in yelling about losing her toothbrush in the helicopter crash, she has a rock embedded in her ass cheek from landing wrong, and she wants a hot shower.” Chuckling again. “Can’t tell you the rest because it was a message for me.”
A round of snorts before laughter rippled out of the Squad and Kennedy.
Redfield left them to their fit of humor, making his way over to where L was halfway surrounded by villagers. Raising a brow, he watched as she patted the anaconda on the head before sending it back to the river. The B.O.W.’s body had already disappeared, so there was no clean-up or execution left. Soon, he was joined by Kennedy and the rest. Hearing what the villagers were murmuring, Elba’s brows shot up.
“What’s up, Umber?” Redfield eyed him.
“My Portuguese is very rusty, but if I’m not mistaken they seem to think she’s the incarnation of a goddess named Yacy or Jaci.”
“Oh dear…”
They watched as the pregnant woman brought some yerba mate tea and a green frog pendant to L, smiling and bowing as best as she could.
L blinked and slowly accepted the gifts with a polite nod before backing away.
“Get us out of here, Big Boy. I do nae want another cult stalking me later.”
“Right. Canine, call for the exfil and South American Branch to get here for helping the villagers.” Kissing the top of her wild curls that were sticking up in every direction, he made a face and reached in before retrieving something carefully out of her hair. “Why is there always a damn lizard stuck in your hair?”
“Nae a clue, Big Boy.” Shrugging and walking with him carefully away from the overly friendly villagers.
Leon was eyeing the river up, noting that something was disturbing the surface, and all birdsong had stopped. He froze when an enormous head surfaced, making full eye contact with him before surveying the village.
“Is that a fifty-foot snake?” Tundra squeaked.
Leon slowly backed away, getting closer to Redfield and L.
L, for her part, was having exactly none of that on her watch.
“BEAT IT! GET YER SCALY HIDE OUT OF MY SIGHT THIS INSTANT, YE FUCKIN’ SNACK!” She roared at the Titanoboa.
The oversized reptile retreated with enough haste to make an actual wave and wake as it swam downstream like its life depended on it.
“What was that you said about Mom being nice to the local wildlife earlier?” Piers quipped at Kennedy.
“Shut up, Nivans.”