Leon Scott Kennedy.
Chris Redfield heard the name for the first time six years ago, although he hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time. Marvin Branaugh spoke about their new hire right before S.T.A.R.S. split and Chris left to hunt down some leads. It was Chris’s last conversation with Marvin.
His first conversation with Leon occurred months later: an email, simple on the surface, except not many people knew Chris’s email, the pair had never talked, and it was Leon notifying Chris that Claire was in danger. Even as Chris’s mind settled Leon Scott Kennedy into the box of “Claire’s friend,” he never forgot the debt he owed. Claire was one of the toughest women Chris had ever known, but he had no idea what would have happened to her without Leon’s email.
So when the call came, there was only one thing Chris could possibly do.
“What the fuck do they mean Leon is missing?” Chris hissed, stomping beside Jill.
Jill Valentine grunted, matching him stomp for stomp. They were both dressed in their blues for a stupid fundraiser in France. Chris hated it at first but couldn’t help but be grateful now: if he was still in Canada instead of this damned UN function, they would have called another BSAA agent to help Leon. Like hell would Chris turn down the chance to return the favor.
“Agent Hunnigan said he went dark two hours ago,” Jill said. “He was working with the local police but they were killed early in his mission. No other details.”
Jill spit out each word like a bullet. She had only met Leon once -- at Claire’s 23rd birthday party -- but she, like Chris, suspected there was something shady about USSTRATCOM and Leon’s involvement with them. No other details and the fact that Leon was solo in some strange enemy territory didn’t help anything.
Big bad government agent or not, in Chris’s head, Leon Kennedy was his little sister’s friend, the rookie cop who had one hell of a first day at RPD. What the fuck was he doing alone out there?
“Nothing?” Chris demanded. He tugged gently at his jacket: uncomfortable and too tight around his shoulders. His change of clothes was waiting for him and then time for his helicopter ride.
Just his. Not Jill’s. Her face was a thunderstorm beside him. Hunnigan insisted on only one agent and there was no doubt that it would be Chris. His first opportunity in six years to pay his debt.
Leon Scott Kennedy. Bright-eyed Leon Kennedy, who helped save his sister’s life, who was almost his subordinate before Raccoon City died.
“Nothing,” Jill confirmed. She paused outside the door leading to the locker room. Chris would change and head out and Jill would take over negotiations and neither would breathe a word to Claire about this. Not until they knew if her friend was alive or not. None of them had many friends in this field, and that phone call was always terrible to do. “I don’t like this, Chris.”
Chris nodded, because there was nothing else to say. Nothing since that party several years ago, when Leon refused to talk about his work, growing shifty and dark-eyed whenever Chris asked.
Leon was his sister’s friend, the young man who helped keep his sister alive. Now he was alone, possibly injured, in enemy territory, while the US Government refused to share vital information which could help save his life.
One way or another, Chris would find him.
“I’ll let you know whatever I find,” Chris said, politics and confidentiality be damned. Jill nodded back, jaw hard.
“Be careful,” was all she said back. Because the government was keeping secrets -- again -- and Claire’s friend was right smack in the middle of it.
Two hours radio silence, Hunnigan reported. Leon damned well be alive when Chris found him. A Redfield always paid their debts.
“Always,” Chris lied with a sharp grin.