Lester and his team continued firing at the advancing zombies, clearing the station hallway with precision. Their adrenaline surged as they fought through, but after a few minutes, silence fell. Only faint gunshots echoed in the distance. The eerie quiet hung in the air, thick with tension.
Frederick, breathing heavily, broke the stillness. "We need to check out those shots. Someone's out there. Could be survivors," he said, gripping his weapon tightly.
Williams nodded in agreement, his voice sharp. "It's probably that woman. She was here for a reason, and I'll bet it's the same reason we're here. She might have gotten to the files first."
Lester narrowed his eyes. "We're not here to chase random people. The mission is clear—find intel on Nemesis, nothing more."
Frederick's face twisted in frustration. "You're telling me we're just going to ignore it? What if she has information we need? You saw how she moved, Lester. She's not some random civilian."
"I'm not ignoring anything," Lester shot back, his tone hard. "But we have orders. Nemesis is the priority. Not some stranger running around the station."
Williams stepped forward, his voice rising. "Damn it, Lester! You're too focused on following orders like a robot. That woman might be key to understanding what's going on here. And what if those gunshots are survivors? Are we just going to let them die?"
Lester's jaw tightened. "This isn't a free-for-all, Williams. We have a job to do. Chasing after gunfire without knowing what's out there is suicide. We stick to the plan."
Frederick's voice grew angrier. "Maybe you're scared of making the wrong call. But standing still won't get us anywhere. What if the Nemesis intel is with her? What if she knows more than we do? Hell, she might even be working with the enemy. We can't ignore it!"
Lester stepped forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "You think I'm scared, Frederick? You think I don't want to find the answers? I do. But I'm not going to risk our team getting killed because you want to go off on some side mission. This isn't about being a hero. It's about staying alive long enough to finish the mission."
Frederick clenched his fists, clearly ready to push the argument further. "Staying alive won't mean anything if we miss the bigger picture."
Williams cut in again, heated. "We've been chasing shadows for hours! You really think ignoring every lead we come across is going to get us the answers we need?"
Lester slammed the butt of his rifle into the ground, silencing them. "Enough! We stay on course. Focus on the mission. If that woman is important, we'll deal with her later. Right now, we're not splitting up or running blind. We finish what we came here to do."
Frederick stared at Lester, his anger barely contained, but he said nothing more. After a moment of tense silence, he finally relented. "Fine. But if this bites us in the ass, it's on you."
Lester gave him a cold stare before turning away. "Let's move."
Lester, still tense from the argument, reached for the glass device. The team's disagreements weighed on him, but he knew they needed to push forward. Ignoring the distant gunshots, he activated the glass, its faint blue glow illuminating the dark station hall.
As the glass flickered to life, the past began to unfold before him. He saw images of the police station in 1998, chaotic and crumbling. It felt surreal, watching as the outbreak consumed everything. Through the translucent lens, he spotted a young officer running through the halls—Leon S. Kennedy.
Leon was fierce, moving with the determination of someone who refused to give up. Lester watched as Leon fought off waves of zombies, barely making it through alive. The scenes played out like a memory, almost too real to be just a recording of the past.
Then something caught his eye—Nemesis. The creature appeared in the footage, towering and brutal, its presence looming over the station as it hunted survivors. Lester's breath caught in his throat as he watched Nemesis engage in battle with Leon. But it wasn't the fight itself that mattered—it was what happened afterward.
Leon had found something. A file, hidden in one of the offices. Lester zoomed in with the glass, focusing on the papers Leon had collected. It was intel on Nemesis: research notes, biological data, and deployment orders. This wasn't just a random outbreak—it had been orchestrated. Lester's heart pounded as he realized this file could be the key to everything.
As the vision continued, he saw Leon hand the documents to someone else before Nemesis launched another attack, forcing Leon to flee. The handoff happened so fast, but it confirmed one thing: there was still more to uncover.
Lester deactivated the glass, his mind racing. "I think I've found something," he muttered. He glanced at the team, who were watching him closely.
"It's Leon. He found critical intel on Nemesis back in 1998. It's here, in the station. We have to find it."
The weight of the mission had never felt heavier, but now, with this lead, they were one step closer to understanding the virus—and Nemesis.
Lester, pacing in the dimly lit room, gripped the glass device tightly. "We need to know where these files are, Ray. This could change everything." His voice was urgent, the weight of the discovery pressing down on him.
He called Ray immediately, relaying everything he had just seen. "Leon found intel on Nemesis back in 1998. I saw it with the glass. But the files—he handed them off to someone, and we need to know where they are now. Any chance we can reach him?"
Ray's voice crackled through the comms. "Leon? He retired in 2030, after over three decades of service. He's 66 now, and not as sharp as he used to be. But… he's still got his mind intact. I could try calling him, see what he remembers, but no promises."
Lester sighed, feeling both the pressure of time and the urgency of their mission. "We need to know anything he can tell us. If those files are still out there, we can't afford to miss them."
Ray paused before responding. "Give me a moment. I'll try to get through to him. If anyone knows where those files ended up, it's Leon."
Lester nodded, turning to his team. "We might have a way forward. Let's hope he remembers something useful."
Ray's voice came through the headset again, this time laced with an unmistakable urgency. "Lester, you need to listen carefully. The woman you saw earlier—she's not just some rogue agent or survivor out here. She's been sent by the government, handpicked for this mission."
Lester furrowed his brow, his mind racing. "What are you getting at, Ray? Why is she so important?"
There was a brief silence, as if Ray was choosing his words carefully. "She's the daughter of Leon S. Kennedy."
Lester's breath caught in his throat. Leon Kennedy, a legend in these kinds of biohazard situations. His name carried weight, especially in Raccoon City history. "Leon Kennedy? You've gotta be kidding me."
Ray's voice was calm but firm. "No joke. She's inherited all of her father's instincts and skills. She's highly trained, lethal, and as dedicated as they come. There's a reason they sent her—she's one of the best."
Lester's device pinged, and a photo flashed across the glass interface. The image showed a woman with an intense gaze, the same piercing eyes that Leon was famous for, mixed with a striking beauty that exuded confidence and danger. Her features, sharp yet graceful, told of a life lived on the edge, just like her father.
"Look at her, Lester. She's a perfect blend of precision and strength. She's got Leon's combat expertise and more. You're not just dealing with another agent. She's a force to be reckoned with."
Lester stared at the photo, a mixture of awe and concern settling in. "So, she's out here, chasing the same intel as us?"
Ray confirmed, "Exactly. She's likely after the Nemesis file, just like you. And trust me, she won't let anything get in her way. Be cautious, Lester. She's got years of experience and is trained to handle situations just like this."
Lester sighed, rubbing his temples. "So, we've got Leon's daughter out here, probably after the same thing we are... And she's a pro at this." His gaze hardened. "This mission just got a lot more complicated. If she's after the Nemesis intel, we can't let her get to it first."
Williams, overhearing the conversation, chimed in. "Leon's daughter, huh? Well, I guess we're in for a challenge."
Lester nodded, his thoughts racing. He knew they were already facing impossible odds with the virus outbreak and the creatures lurking in Raccoon City, but now they had a rival—one with ties to a legacy that still haunted this place.
"We need to stay sharp," Lester said, glancing at his team. "We're not just fighting zombies anymore. We've got someone else in the game, someone who knows these streets and these monsters better than we do."
As Lester processed the information about Leon's daughter, Ray interjected with more details. "Her name is Camila Kennedy. She's 25 years old, and she's not alone. She has a brother who's 20. The documents I've been able to dig up show that she was trained by both her parents."
Lester's brow furrowed in curiosity. "Trained by both her parents? That's impressive. But what about her mom?"
Ray hesitated for a moment, then continued, "Her mother is not just anyone; she's an elite operative in her own right. Trained in various combat disciplines and stealth techniques. If Camila inherited anything from her, she's likely just as skilled in covert operations as she is in direct combat."
"Wow," Williams murmured, looking at the photo of Camila on the device. "So she's got a legacy to uphold. No wonder she's so formidable."
Lester nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. "This makes sense. If she's been raised in that environment, she'll have a strategic edge. We need to be careful about how we approach her. She might see us as competition—or worse, a threat."
Ray added, "Her mother has a reputation for being fierce and resourceful. If Camila is anything like her, she won't hesitate to eliminate obstacles in her path, including us if it comes to that."
"Great," Lester said, feeling the weight of the mission pressing down on him. "So now we have to deal with a skilled operative from a legacy family, as well as the zombies and whatever else Raccoon City throws at us. We need to regroup and come up with a plan."
Frederick, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "We can't let our guard down. We have to stay focused on the mission and not let anything distract us, including this Camila. We have a job to do."
Lester took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. "Ray, do you think you can reach Leon? If he's retired, he might have valuable insights or information we need regarding the Nemesis. He's been through this before."
Ray nodded thoughtfully. "I can try, but he may not be easy to reach. It's been years since he's been in the field. He might not have the same resources or contacts he once did."
"Even so, it's worth a shot," Lester insisted. "If we can get in touch with him, he could provide crucial intel that we might be missing. Plus, if Camila is connected to him, she might have more knowledge about her father's experiences with the Nemesis."
"Alright, I'll do my best to get in touch with him," Ray replied, pulling out his device to initiate the connection. "But keep in mind, it may take some time. He might not respond immediately."
Lester nodded, the tension in the air thickening. "In the meantime, let's keep moving. We need to gather intel on the Nemesis and figure out where this leads. We can't afford to get sidetracked by anything—or anyone."
As they pressed onward, the stakes felt higher than ever. With the prospect of reaching Leon and the uncertainty of Camila's intentions, they knew they had to navigate this treacherous path with care and precision.