Krauser traced a finger over the camera feed, the pad of it tracking the movements of Leon S. Kennedy’s figure as he faced the last batch of what Saddler had left to throw at him. It wouldn’t phase him, had barely slowed him down. He’d always been impressive in that regard.
Now, he was even more so. He looked every bit the seasoned warrior that he had pretended to be in years past. His body was muscular and lithe, tapered from shoulders to waist back out to hips and stabilized on powerful legs Krauser had seen split open a skull. Anyone else wouldn’t have wanted to be between them as badly as the alpha did.
He’d known Leon was alive. He’s also known that he was one of the president’s highest-ranking agents. It was clear now that he was the agent of choice. No doubt because of the trials and training the government had sent him through, so it was little wonder he’d be sent to play hero.
He’d always been good at that, though, hadn’t he?
He hadn’t been able to smell Leon when he first met him those years ago in South America. He’d chalked that up to the dense, emerald foliage of the rainforest around them, at first. It was the kind engrained in people’s psyche when they thought of a place like that, and the humidity in the air had made all the natural smells of wood and dirt amplified. Then the decaying smell of the village had served as an adequate cover—an adequate excuse, maybe.
He’d mentioned that it had smelled like a battlefield to the younger man: like blood, but also of shit and rot. He hadn’t expected Leon to know the smell. Sure, he’d claimed to have faced BOWs before, but Krauser hadn’t believed in them, yet. With all the things he’d gone up against in his career as a soldier and mercenary, whispers of monsters had meant little to him. He’d seen real monsters, the men with too much money and egomania, and he’d killed a lot of them.
He’d liked killing them. He was good at it.
That’s why they’d sent him, after all. It was too tough an assignment for the rookie to handle on his own—or so Krauser had been told.
The rest he figured out with his eyes and gun and the quick-thinking Leon by his side. The kid had cracked jokes like he’d been killing just as long as his partner had. One thing was clear, though, abundantly clear in the way he’d addressed the girl they’d found on their mission: he hadn’t killed as many as Krauser. At least not the living.
Zombies and monsters? Sure, he’d faced them. No use denying it when they’d started sponging up his bullets. No use denying it through all the different mutations they faced.
But, people? That was another story, obvious though it was by Leon’s determination to protect the girl—Manuela. To protect innocents, Krauser supposed. Seemed to be the kid’s M.O. Seemed to suit him, somehow. Not exactly a knight in shining armor—not with the things he’d seen, but the determination and confidence were there.
Their rescued victim had picked up on it, though—had trusted Leon immediately, though she didn’t take too kindly to Krauser judging by the distance she tried to put between them. That had been fine—he hadn’t taken to her, either.
She’d smelled wrong.
She’d smelled exactly like what they discovered later: too many parts jammed into one. But, that was after—after he had forced Leon to tell him everything about his past. If they were going to survive, if they were going to be at their best, if they were going to do it together, he’d needed to know what they were up against.
When Leon finished telling him about Raccoon City, Krauser had been conflicted. There were parts of him that were envious—to have been so young and so green and yet to have the skill and mental facilities to survive an entire city trying to eat you alive? He’d never be able to say whether he would’ve been able to survive in Kennedy’s shoes, and that irked him.
The other parts of him had been impressed. Rookie had been a wrong term for the younger man on their first mission together. He’d been a true rookie—a lowly beat cop—and yet he’d survived hell.
Apparently, he’d even managed to outlive a few different special forces groups sent in to retrieve samples and clean up messes. And he’d done it with a couple weapons and barely enough ammo spread out between them.
So, yes, it was impressive, and he’d grudgingly acknowledged that he was relieved to have someone capable at his back. The lack of scent on the other blonde’s skin, in addition to his age and pretty face, had made him doubtful at first. He’d never been someone to ignore gut instinct or first impressions, but he sure as hell wasn’t someone to deny when he’d been wrong, either.
In the end, that had made it easier to enjoy his attraction to Leon, especially with how often he’d gotten to take up the rear and look. He’d been caught, both by the girl and the man himself, but he’d always thought shame was a useless emotion. Besides, the former cop had known how attractive he was—most definitely still knew—and the little smirk those lips had given had been all the permission Krauser had needed to look his fill.
He did more than look after Javier had released the floodgates on them. Leon had swallowed water or hit his head—something had happened, and it had been enough to leave him immobile when the torrent had ended. Krauser hadn’t hesitated to plug his nose and seal the other man’s mouth with his own. It only took a breath and some urging, but it got the smaller man to his feet.
And those few close seconds had told Krauser all he’d been wondering: he hadn’t been able to smell his partner because he’d been using blockers.
Because Leon S. Kennedy was an omega.
Krauser hadn’t commented on it. There’d been no need to. It had already been proven that this omega could compare—or surpass—almost any alpha he was pitted against. Almost any. That wasn’t such an odd thing; Leon wasn’t the first omega to work as a soldier or special agent, though Krauser had never worked with one personally in such a capacity. It was a different thing to see it.
A tantalizing thing.
But, that was a thought he’d shoved off. Thinking with his dick was a good way to get them both killed. For now, the taste he’d gotten would be enough.
Leon had seen the flare of his nostrils and the recognition in his eyes. It had made the younger man turn away, made his baby blues turn to steel, made that pretty face go marble. That was nice to look at, too.
All the same, Krauser had reassured him: “At least I got you here backin’ me up, though, huh, boy scout?”
That had seemed to break the tension. “You’re not gonna ask me to hold your hand, are you?”
“If only your aim was as good as your jokes.”
His aim was much better than his puns, but he supposed anything that came out of that mouth would be appealing. The girl had thought so, too. Krauser hadn’t cared for that. Had even suggested killing her once they’d learned her connection to Javier. He’d known it wouldn’t fly with Leon, but he hadn’t expected to be roused to the agent’s cause when he revealed exactly who he was working for and what he was after.
It was then that he’d been torn. Torn between his attraction, his admiration, and above all his envy.
He’d let the first two win out and had agreed to work to protect the girl, but the more they fought and the more he learned, the more the taste of Leon had soured.
Krauser had been picked for this mission out of all his comrades. He’d thought it meant something—he’d thought the government had finally begun to acknowledge his skill. Instead, he was babysitting some kid all while playing second fiddle to the president’s golden boy. Then, to learn that all those missing girls had been killed to keep the brat alive?
Javier had been raving about power, a subject on which they could both agree, but where was the power in this? In making himself weak for some girl?
Though, hadn’t that been what they’d all been doing?
And Krauser had been maimed because of it.
Not smart, fast, perfect Leon. No, the girl had thrown herself in harm’s way to save him. But how she did it—the power of the Veronica virus—that was far more interesting than some little crush she had. That fire, that power her father had been protecting—that was something he’d never known existed before that day.
Javier had been right.
After the mission, after his arm was assessed and bandaged, after he was left alone to stew in his anger and envy and desperation, Leon found him. The special agent had tried to console him and in turn Krauser had kept the truth of his thoughts away from his voice. Reassuring others seemed to be a skill Leon had. If they wanted to be.
“What did the doctors say?” Leon had sat near him, just down the bench. All one of them would need to do is slide down the foot separating them to touch their thighs.
Krauser had considered it. The omega had smelled like he should, like desire, which meant he’d either lost his blockers during the mission or had opted not to swallow a pill just yet. It had been hard to tell which. He wasn’t clever like the other blonde. He couldn’t be much else but direct, which is why he had waited and watched that toned, almost feline body to see what was being offered.
“Got more tests to run,” he’d said, voice gruff. His partner had seemed to like that, had turned his ear to the sound.
Another area where they were very different. Leon’s voice was low, but smooth. He hated cliché, but if velvet had a sound it would be Leon spewing out a pun. But, how would it sound choking out a moan? Gasping around an orgasm?
“They’ll fix you up,” the younger man had said, most likely trying to assure himself. “We need the best fighting against Umbrella.”
Krauser had grunted and turned his knees towards the agent. “You sound sure.”
“You don’t need me inflating your ego. You know you’re a good soldier.” He was a good alpha, too. He’d wondered if Leon could smell it.
He remembered raising his wounded arm for consideration. “I was.”
“Wallowing in self-pity doesn’t seem like you.”
“Facing facts is like me,” Krauser had rebutted. “So, tell me: how do you fight against an organization that doesn’t want to be found?”
“They aren’t doing too good of a job hiding.”
“I suppose it’s hard to hide all the time.”
Leon’s playful expression had fallen. “Didn’t seem to bother you during the mission.”
Krauser had laughed. “Oh, it bothers me.” He’d spread his legs wide for emphasis.
Those blue eyes had fallen exactly where he’d wanted them to, and when the younger man had tried to hide it, tried to backpedal and sputter out an explanation, the alpha hadn’t wanted to listen. He’d shot his hand out, gripped the back of the smaller man’s neck, and pulled his ass down that bench so their faces had been inches away.
Leon’s fingers had curled in his fatigues for balance. That had felt right.
“Tell me something, Kennedy,” he’d rasped. “After you’re done playing hero, how many people offer to open their legs for you?”
The special agent hadn’t answered; his eyes had merely roved over Krauser’s face. He’d been trying to assess the situation, to weigh the pros and cons of their contact. Logic, however, had an abysmal win rate against an alpha’s pheromones.
“You’re not the usual damsel,” he’d finally quipped.
The bigger man had smirked and slid his hand up to feel the soft strands of hair before twisting them around his fingers and anchoring the omega in place. “Something tells me that’s not what you’ve ever wanted anyway.” He’d tilted Leon’s head back, pleased with the way his eyelids had fluttered, enticed by the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing.
“No? What do I want, Krauser?”
The soldier had leant closer. “An alpha who can keep up.”
Leon had laughed, sharp and surprised. “Not to be dominated?”
No, he’d thought. You want the fight. You want him to be worthy. He hadn’t said it, he’d simply pressed his nose to the soft skin of his neck and breathed. Leon had breathed, shakily, with him.
“Jack,” he’d whispered.
Krauser had tugged the silky hair at that, had extracted himself so their eyes could meet. Leon’s nostrils had been flaring, lips parted, and eyes daring. There had been barely any space between their mouths but all the welcoming space between the darker blonde’s lips, but the soldier had moved slowly. He’d wanted to savor the feeling of plush softness as he’d dragged his own over them. He’d wanted to hear and feel the other man’s breath increase. He’d wanted to suck it from his lungs.
But when he’d moved to wind his left arm around Leon’s waist, when he’d tried to pull him fully into his space, he’d remembered. The pain had laced through him, into the barely-there kiss, and he’d had to relinquish his hold.
The younger man caught himself on the bench, eyes wide, and Krauser had never known worse shame. The gritting of his teeth hadn’t only been to ward off the stinging ache.
Maybe Leon had seen that, because he’d given the alpha a moment before leaning in. His hands had avoided his arms—one had settled on Krauser’s thigh, the other his shoulder—so that he could press close with a firm kiss. The hook of his tongue had convinced the older man almost instantaneously that he only needed one arm to hold the slimmer body in place.
The sound of the locker room door opening, though, decided otherwise for them.
They’d been in the back and out of sight, so they’d had time to pull away. Gave Leon time to give him a shaky smile before he’d risen to his feet.
He’d smoothed his hair and cleared his throat. “Get your arm fixed and then have your people contact mine.” He’d walked almost out of sight and smirked when he’d glanced back and saw that Krauser had been watching the cadence of his stride very closely.
That confidence hadn’t gone anywhere, that was evident from all the footage. His skill had increased and he was proving to be a big enough thorn in Saddler’s side to send Krauser to take the brat from his lackey Salazar and bring her to the cult’s fortified island. He didn’t need to tell his employer that Leon would be following along sooner rather than later.
It would’ve been smart to just keep the girl in Krauser’s care, but he passed her off to some drooling Ganado who had been waiting for her. A stupid decision, but beneficial for him regardless. He didn’t care what happened to their hostage. She’d served her purpose for the soldier—a one-way ticket into Saddler’s good graces. Bumming her off on his ineffective goons would give him time to figure out how to go about obtaining his real goal.
The sample was the only thing that mattered.
Unfortunately, Saddler’s graces seemed to have worn thin.
The door opened behind him, though he was quick to snap off the feed he’d been watching. He didn’t have to look to know who it was.
Ada Wong had been described to him first by Leon. He’d had some sort of a crush on her before realizing who she really was, apparently. Made sense. She was a capable alpha of her own, though too crafty by far.
He’d warned Wesker against her, but her delivery back in Raccoon City outweighed any of his protests. It had been all the worse when he’d had to call in some help and she’d been the one sent.
Now, Krauser was vindicated. She and Leon had history and that told him more than anything that the bitch was just going to get in the way. He didn’t hesitate in telling her of his mistrust, either.
“You know, I met Wesker long before you.” And yet it wasn’t only Wesker he was thinking about.
Once he was alone again, he turned the feed back on and recognized how close their guest was getting. Close enough to pay a visit and get reacquainted. He straightened up and raised his left fist to clench it tight. A promise was a promise, after all.
Clever Leon knew someone was stalking him, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d managed to dodge the sneak attack, though Krauser had never intended to land the killing blow. Instead, he rose slowly and lifted his chin to expose his face.
“Been a long time, comrade.”
Leon’s outstretched arm and knife fell immediately. His face slackened in disbelief. “Krauser!”
There was blood on the omega’s cheek and Krauser’s first thought was how much he wanted to lick it clean. He refocused his gaze to his own knife. “I died in the crash two years ago; is that what they told you?” He chuckled out the question, circling around his prey.
The other man circled, too. “You’re the one who kidnapped Ashley!”
“You catch on quick,” Krauer commended, twirling his knife around a finger. He turned his back, knowing Leon wouldn’t attack it. “As expected…after all, you and I both know where we come from.”
He swiped at the agent, delighted when it was returned twice fold. After he had dodged, Leon swapped his knife between his hands.
“What do you want?!”
Oh, he’d been given one half of what he’d wanted. Now, he’d come to claim what he hadn’t those two years ago. Still, he didn’t want to give up the game just yet. He smirked and dove forward to no avail. They traded attacks as gracefully as a dance and at every close pass the omega’s smell wafted outward.
Krauser could sense the taint in it, though it did nothing to quell the heat it instilled in him.
“The sample Saddler developed, that’s all,” he explained readily enough.
Leon dodged him again, breath quickening, nostrils flaring. So, he’d been unable to forget Krauser’s scent, as well. He wondered how badly he’d taken the news of his fake death.
“Leave Ashley out of this!”
“Oh, I needed her to buy Saddler’s trust in me. Like you, I’m American.” He’d meant to blindside the special agent with the empty oil drum, get him on his back and panting, but was thoroughly surprised when it was batted away. His surprise grew as Leon not only parried the next attack but used its momentum to flip himself to safety. Krauser landed not too far away and snapped back to look at that feline body poised and ready.
He grinned, though it felt more like a sneer. “Impressive, Leon. They’ve finally put you to good use.”
The other man glared and ignored the compliment. “You got her involved just for that?!” He launched into his own attack, spurring Krauser into defense. He savored the little grunts and cries Leon made, enjoyed the back and forth, as quick as their banter had once been. When the younger man even managed to slice a line up his chest, he couldn’t help but approve. Blood for blood, he supposed.
He laughed and lunged. Leon moved away easily, twisting the bigger man’s arm and trading knives. When Krauser reclaimed it, the omega threw up his other hand to stop it from sinking home.
For a moment their strength battled with one another—but in this Leon would never beat him. Not when it came to raw power. It was easy to twirl him around, to finish the dance with that and a swift kick to his back to send him sprawling.
He ended up on his back, arms spread out to lift his torso up. His knife was well out of reach.
Krauser prowled close and corrected Leon’s earlier assessment. “All for Umbrella’s sake.”
“Umbrella?” He was trying to rise.
The soldier lifted his nose, playful and taunting. “Almost let it slip… Enough talk. Die, comrade!” He launched up and came down with his knife.
Leon caught both his wrists and pushed up against his weight, gasping. When his arms began to tremble, he gasped. “Jack!”
The alpha in him roiled. He didn’t try to stop the grin from taking over his face. “Oh, I like that.” He angled the knife away and relented a bit of his weight as he felt the smaller man’s strength start to leave him. “Are you going to beg?”
Those blue eyes flashed with rage, the pale skin tightened, and all the while Leon gritted his teeth. Krauser wanted to lick over them. He straddled the flexing hips beneath him and lowered his weight, forcing Leon completely down into the metal mesh beneath them.
“Beg me, Leon,” he husked.
The agent’s eyes widened.
Krauser affixed the point back towards the neck beneath it, hovering right above where he’d sink his teeth if the throat was ever offered to him. “Two years,” he said, staring at the skin. “I’ve been thinking about you begging under me for two years. Or did you forget?”
Leon gasped when the side of the blade, cold and unforgiving, pressed to his pulse. “…Jack?”
The scent of the omega beneath him had permeated the smell of their sweat and gear. It was easy to suck it in, to get lost in it, to want to follow that blade down. Forgetting himself, he took one hand away, using it to grip Leon’s chin and put his thumb onto his lips and then between them.
“You didn’t, did you?”
The trapped man’s nostrils flared and his eyes went dark. There was the soft, wet sensation of tongue against the pad of Krauser’s finger.
He smirked down at his former partner and shifted his hips. “Didn’t think so.” He was about to lean down completely when Leon gathered his energy enough to push the knife away from his neck. It wasn’t as hard with only the strength of one of Krauser’s arms holding it in place. Before the agent could get any clever ideas, the alpha withdrew from his chin and mouth to wrap his fingers around the throat he’d been admiring.
Leon gasped as he was denied air, tried to say something and failed without it.
“Hm?” Krauser tilted his head and let him breathe.
“They’re using you,” that velvet voice repeated, tremulous.
That was obvious enough. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He started to curl his fingers again.
“What happened to you?”
The bigger man chuckled at that and looked to where Leon’s hands were wrapped around his left wrist. Realization spread over his face almost instantly. Before either could comment on it, a gunshot rang out and Krauser’s hand was vibrating from where the knife had been shot from his grip.
Leon shoved him away with a solid foot to his stomach and he rolled backwards with the force, upending himself to glare at their interruption.
The spy stepped from the shadows on one of the walkways above them, hips swiveling and a smug smile over her face. Her gun was trained on the opposing alpha.
“Well,” Krauser drawled, unsurprised, “if it isn’t the bitch in the red dress.” He stood to face her, noting how Leon’s head had snapped back to him.
“Looks like we have the upper hand here,” Ada simpered.
The soldier knew he couldn’t stay, so he chuckled and retreated, using his newfound power to flip himself back onto the walkway he’d used to enter. Leon made to follow, stopping in confusion at the display.
“Not done with you, Leon,” he promised.
“You’ve failed to rid me of Mr. Kennedy,” Saddler announced from behind him. Krauser felt his shoulders tense and he pressed the note he’d been about to deposit in his pocket for the time being. He turned stiffly to see the cult leader approach slowly from down the tunnel. At one of his elbows was the president’s daughter and behind them were two ganados.
The girl approached with Saddler, silent and methodical. Her eyes were red and unfocused.
“Wanted to see how my friend was doing first.”
The older man gave a hum of consideration. He circled around Krauser, eying him. “Indeed. He told me he enjoyed the reunion.”
The soldier knew they had been able to hack into Leon’s transmissions, so the statement didn’t come as a surprise.
“He left you with a parting gift, as well, I see.”
Krauser looked down to his already healing and scarring chest. He touched it dismissively and not in reverence like he wanted. “Gave him one of my own, too.” He motioned to the ladder one of the ganados was ascending. “I’m laying a trap in the ruins for him. I’ll bring you his head.”
“Won’t that make a pretty trophy,” Saddler almost purred. He gave one of his disarming smiles and held out his hand to Ashley. Once she took it he directed her up the ladder. The second ganado followed. After a beat, the Los Illuminados founder continued, “It’s a shame Mr. Kennedy has proven so resistant. Very unlike his kind, no?”
Krauser lifted his chin and met his eyes.
“Though, I suppose that’s what makes him so appealing?” When the soldier only gave a snort and crossed arms in response, the robed man chuckled and moved towards the ladder. “Set your traps and hide the insignia pieces, unnecessary though it may be.”
“And why would it be unnecessary?” How many times would Leon need to thwart him before the man learned?
“I’ve sent one of our favorite experiments to entertain him.”
The muscular man watched him start climbing. “Which?” The omega had already left a path of mutated carcasses in his wake, small and giant alike. As far as Krauser knew, the Regeneradors—creatures which were meant to be as implacable as their names suggested—had barely slowed him down.
Saddler chuckled as he stepped up the rungs. “Krauser, Krauser… I don’t believe you had the pleasure of meeting It.” At the top he disappeared from sight, but his voice drifted back down, harmonious and haughty. “I do so hope you get your chance to prove yourself. It will be your last.”
Krauser glared up at the sky through the hole. It was hard to fathom what kind of abomination they’d sent to stop the rampaging omega, so he didn’t try. What good would it do anyway, when you’re just going to kill it, too? He fished the note out of his pocket and left it on a box beside the ladder.
“Don’t disappoint me, Leon.”
He didn’t. Krauser was huddled over, wiping his fingers clean from the war paint he had smeared over his face when he heard the sound of sand grinding underneath feet. He rose and mirrored them, separated though they were by the decaying walls and pillars built by people long since gone.
“So,” he said, making his presence known, “you two are all hooked up now, is that it?” He’d warned the omega against the spy in his note. Ada was no better than Krauser—far from it considering her track record of broken loyalties. She was about to betray another, he knew. “Speaking of being used—you’re worth more to her alive if you can help her get that sample, you know?”
Leon’s brows fell low. “Where’s Ashley?!”
Krauser laughed. “Do you really wanna know?” No argument in her defense, then. At least he wasn’t as gullible as he’d once been. “She’s beyond that gate.” He nodded his head in its direction. “But you’ll need three insignias to open it.”
“What’re you gonna do, Krauser?”
He continued his path, arms crossed over his bare chest. “There’s one in the north and another in the east.”
“And let me guess,” Leon humored, “you got the last one.”
Krauser turned to face him fully, brandishing his new scar and his sub machine gun. “Pretty much means you’re on a tight leash.”
The other man’s eyes fell to the muscles on his chest and then to the gun. “Sounds like you thought this one out pretty well.”
He threw something. A hook-shot by the quick look the older man got at it before he batted it away with the side of his weapon. It gave his target an opening to run for cover, though he must have known he didn’t need it.
All of Krauser’s shots imbedded in the walls long after that lithe body had passed.
He laughed, almost thrilled. “Run, Leon! Run!”
The alpha launched himself over the space between them, eyes on the door Leon slammed shut behind him. He prowled to it slowly, tucking his gun away to twirl his second knife around his finger. He’d been wondering if Leon had picked up his first. When he got to the door he gave himself a moment of preparation for the attack he knew was waiting for him and then lifted his knife and gave the old wood a powerful slash that splintered it to pieces.
Leon was waiting for him off to the side, though he only found that out when a strong kick collided with his face and sent him sprawling back. His hand flew to his nose. When he inspected it the red of his blood had replaced the paint.
“Not bad, pretty boy.”
He thought he heard a laugh, but it was hard to tell over the sound of Leon’s footsteps pounding over the sand. Krauser assessed the bridge of his nose—not broken—and followed once he wiped the mess away. The only other way out of the building was a metal door and once he was through it the faster man was nowhere in sight.
Krauser couldn’t smell him, either, due to the copper clogging his nostrils. “Always so smart, aren’t you, Leon?” He didn’t expect an answer, so he walked slowly, twirling his knife once again. “What’s the next trick?”
“Nothing fancy.” A grenade rolled between his feet.
The bigger man lifted his hand to his face again, but the blast still blinded him, the power inside him recoiling at the brightness. He heard Leon bolting, feet finding stone instead of just sand as he headed for the first insignia.
Krauser blinked the pain from his eyes, forcing his body to obey so he could pursue. The agent was going straight for the pieces with no thought of truly attacking his former friend. It was almost sweet, really, if not entirely naïve.
He caught up in time to watch Leon pick up the piece. He turned to look at his pursuer, flicking the fringe of his hair from his eyes in the process. It was an impractical haircut, but the omega knew how well it framed his face.
“What do you plan to do restoring Umbrella?”
The alpha snorted. “This isn’t just about them.”
“What do you want, Krauser?”
“Right now? Or do you mean why I faked my death and joined up?” He stepped closer, but Leon just stepped back. He brandished his knife and purposefully twirled it with his left hand. “I was left useless after that mission. You probably heard they couldn’t fix me. They were going to discharge me.”
“So, you join the people who were indirectly responsible for that?”
The older man chuffed. “They’re indirectly responsible for you standing here, too. Tell me who else could’ve fixed my arm?” He flexed his fingers around the handle, causing the muscles of his forearm to move under his skin.
Leon shook his head. “You could’ve fought them some other way--…”
“No,” Krauser said, coldly. “People like us? We’re meant to fight. I’m a soldier; that’s my purpose.” He motioned to his counterpart. “Like how you’ve come into yours.”
“I fight to protect people. You used to be the same way.”
The alpha laughed outright at that. “I fought because I’m good at it.”
He expected something uplifting and convincing to come from the smaller man’s mouth. He expected placations and coaxing. Instead, Leon withdrew his gun. “Not good enough to stop me.” And he fired.
Krauser used the new power within him to avoid the shot, back flipping onto the upraised platform behind them. He retreated from sight. Best to let Kennedy have his little victory for the moment. All the better to prepare for what came next.
The machines weren’t anything revolutionary. A couple land and flight drones affixed with turrets and small grenades. He watched from above as Leon navigated them all with simple pistol shots. A shame, considering how expensive they were, but not too much of a concern for him since it hadn’t been his money.
They did their job well, after all.
It was just after the last one fell, sparking and overheating, that he ambushed the omega, dropping down from above to land behind him and grapple him. Leon only got one shot off before his gun went flying into the dirt. Krauser yanked the agent’s arms up and back, pulling so that there was no space between their bodies.
A gasp and the feel of hard muscle along his front drove the bigger man to press his nose deep in that dirty blonde hair and scent, long and loud.
He smelled like blood and sweat. He smelled like Krauser remembered. He smelled like ferocity and rampage. He smelled like omega. He smelled like las plagas.
That last one would have to be remedied. The only extra scent on him should be his alpha’s.
Leon didn’t submit, but that was to be expected. And that’s what they both wanted.
Krauser took the kick to his shin in silence, though it did stun him enough for his captive to slip at least one arm out of his hold. He caught the hand and the knife before it could reach him, twisting the arm at the cost of releasing the heat of the other body he’d been enjoying. Leon took the opportunity and attempted a swift kick, using the angle to contract his body to do so.
The alpha let it land and then with his free hand he grabbed the thigh that had made contact and used it as leverage to heft his opponent into the air. With a grunt he threw him down, back to the dirt which puffed out around them at the impact. Krauser went down hard on top of him, jamming the knife-wielding arm once into the ground. The weapon fell free.
Without the threat, he readily bullied his way between Leon’s scrambling legs, lifting his hand and bringing it down swiftly across that pretty face. The slap left him reeling and Krauser closed his hands around that pale throat.
Leon’s mouth opened briefly, closed once, and then puckered around the wad of spit and blood he spewed into his attacker’s face.
Krauser snarled, caught off guard, instinctively making to wipe it away. The omega took advantage of the opening, striking the inside of the older man’s elbow with the side of his palm to break the hold on his neck. It worked and he went for his knife again.
The older man caught the two-handed hold and pushed. Just as before, their arms trembled at the exertion.
The alpha had the upper hand again, literally. Not only did he have the better position, but he’d always been naturally stronger. Now, he was supernaturally stronger.
“That’s it, Leon,” he rasped. “That’s what I want—keep struggling.”
The agent gritted his teeth, eyes going from the blade to Krauser and then back again. The blue settled on the former soldier’s face and then, suddenly, the omega’s hold slackened.
The knife jerked forward and Krauser barely stopped it in time from sinking into the younger man’s chest. He lifted surprised eyes to Leon’s who held them for a heartbeat before gifting him with an elbow right to his cheekbone. It made his vision white out and blur, made it impossible to block the follow-up kick to his gut which sent him stumbling to the side.
Chase him, his mind roared, and yet by the time he came back to himself, he was on his back with a knife to his throat. Leon S. Kennedy was a fiery weight where he straddled the bigger man’s hips.
Krauser could buck him off; his arms and legs were free. He’d get cut for it, sure, but he could keep this fight going. However, he liked seeing the omega poised above him, so they stared at one another, regaining breath and coherency.
“Good, Leon,” he praised. “You gonna cut my throat?”
He wasn’t and they both knew it. But, with Krauser’s misstep, they both also knew the reverse to be true.
Leon didn’t know what to make of it; that much was clear from his expression.
The confusion may also have been because of the erection, hard and pulsing and lodged prominently against his ass.
Hot air puffed between them, traded back and forth by their panting. It was laced with the bigger man’s pheromones and the world around them grew heavy with it. When Leon’s nostrils flared just a bit wider than normal, Krauser lifted his hands from the sand and put them on the hips above him.
“Jack,” Leon warned.
He ignored him to sit up and pull that tight body close once again. The other man went with a sharp intake of breath and that even sharper blade still between them. Krauser let it stay, let the danger hover just at his throat, let the edge of it press into his skin when he moved in, slowly, so slowly—too slowly, towards Leon’s mouth.
His lips were parted because of his panting, and the alpha opened his own to drink it in. They skimmed together, separated by that blade and so much more. Their teeth clicked once or twice before Krauser growled and ended the farce.
The kiss was long and hard, their noses catching, mashing, and stinging in his case when he sought out different angles from which to savor the taste he’d fantasized about for two years. When he reached up and removed the hand and knife from his neck Leon made to get away, but with his renewed left hand Krauser took hold of his neck to keep him in place. The gasping response gave him another opening to slip his tongue inside, demanding and probing. He lapped at the roof of the other man’s mouth, his clever tongue, over his white teeth…
When he let Leon breathe the agent tried to get his forearm between them, but the bigger man just grabbed that wrist, too. The omega gave a feeble fight for dominance that ended with his shoulders pinned to the ground and his hips angled up and snug against Krauser’s own.
He moved his grip to Leon’s sides, bending that flexible body in half to catch his mouth again. It was obstinate against him, so he tugged on the plump bottom lip until he opened up all over again. By the time he was finished, the pink had darkened and become shiny with spit.
He leant lower, pressing his face to a thudding pulse to scent and lick. He felt Leon’s face turn, ever so slightly, felt the admittance through the tremor that followed. Felt the offering. So, he took it; feasted on it, slathering his tongue and teeth, rubbing his lips and relishing the soft skin over the strong tendons.
Krauser followed one down with his lips and then crossed over his adam’s apple with his teeth. On the other side he began anew, leaving angry red marks in his wake.
Below, he raked his hands from the omega’s hips up to his ribs and back down. When they got caught at the belt, he grunted and moved his hands to undo the clasp. When he gave it a tug, the flashlight and pouches caught on the loops. He had to set on them with a snarl and toss them aside to finally get it free.
That seemed to get Leon’s attention, because his hands were at Krauser’s shoulders suddenly. “Jack, don’t—there’s no time.”
The alpha set the belt aside, wanting it within reach in case he needed it. In case the resistance continued, even if they both knew it was only for appearances. Because despite the complaint and the pushing when Krauser clawed that tight-fitting shirt up, exposing abs and pectorals and hard nipples, that blonde head dipped and let the fabric be lifted and cast aside.
He refused to give up the space he occupied between the smaller man’s legs, so he slid down, put his ribs between them, forced them wide so he could set his mouth to bruising skin. He kissed some of the discoloration over his ribs too hard and didn’t bother to hide his grin at the hiss that followed.
“Looks painful,” he mumbled, mouth half-pushed against the muscle covering bone.
Krauser bit one, withdrawing in time to avoid Leon’s bucking against his already bloodied nose, and then went back down again to set his teeth instead to a nipple. He bit the skin around the areola and flicked his tongue over the nub between, feeling it move with the urgency of the wet muscle. One of the agent’s hands slipped into the back of his hair and buried itself there, tugging.
It hurt, but he preferred that it did.
He came up, blew against the wet patch he’d left and shifted over to slather the same administrations on the other nipple. There was a groan deep in the chest beneath his mouth, vibrating his lips. By the time he was finished, Leon’s back was bowed, his supple stomach concave, but rising and falling quickly with his breath.
Krauser set his face to it, too, smoothing his cheek over the abdominal muscles before following the line of them with the tip of his tongue. He sucked at the rim of the younger man’s belly button, enjoying the way it trembled against him. When he reached the fly of his pants, Leon jerked again.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop?” He slid his hands down, thumbing over prominent hip bones, seeking back to grab the firm globes of his ass. That made him arch all anew and Krauser sucked his own bruise into the pale skin of his stomach, just above his belt line because it was offered up so nicely to him.
Then he put his mouth over the outline of his erection.
That got those legs moving, though not much considering the alpha was using most of his upper body weight to hold them down. Still, the traction on the bottom of Leon’s shoes were gritting against the sand as they fought for purchase. Krauser never let them.
“Stop!” He snarled it this time. “Dammit, Krauser!”
Stop; a command of his mind when all other parts of his body screamed differently. When the smell of his arousal was heavy and thick enough that it eclipsed all the other smells around and on them. When it was so palpable he could feel it on his tongue.
There was a sharp tug at his hair again, one that got him back an inch. It also brought to attention Leon’s other hand which was reaching towards one of the discarded pouches only a few centimeters away. Krauser gave a growl and gripped Leon’s thighs to pull him from everything—his gadgets, his weapons, even from the wall. The omega reared up at that, flexing to scramble up the knife he’d dropped in his distracted pleasure.
Krauser caught the arm again—for the last time. He slammed it, and Leon, down into the ground. The younger man grunted, going still for a beat too long. His grip did not relinquish from the handle of the knife, though, so the soldier slammed it down again, and again, and again, until finally it fell free. He smacked it aside towards the rest of his gear.
“You want to pretend you’re still fighting?”
His opponent flicked the hair out of his face to meet his eyes, furious and pained and aroused.
“Why lie? You know I can smell it.”
Leon bared his teeth and tried to pull a leg back for one more kick, but the alpha knocked it to the side, and then, liking the twist it gave that sinuous body, held his hips to enjoy the angle. The pants he wore were tighter now, to be sure with the hard on the younger man was sporting, but normally when standing it was hard to make out the details of his legs beyond the power in his thighs. Now the fabric stretched over the swell of his ass and Krauser looked his fill, slipping one thumb back from his vice-like hold to touch.
To let himself imagine how it was going to feel to fuck between those cheeks. To slap up against them and watch the skin ripple. To see it all while that tight heat sucked him in.
Enflamed, he flipped Leon completely onto his stomach, hooking his forearms around the front of his thighs to cock his hips up and back. Then he stripped them bare. That got the smaller man gasping and Krauser wanted no more resistance. He shoved his hand down into the middle of his back, forcing him to present.
Leon cried out sharply, and the alpha leant up and tilted his head at the too-sharp sound. Below his touch was more discoloration, darker and angrier than the front. He pressed his palm in harder.
The agent cursed.
“Aw,” Krauser cooed, “want me to kiss it better?”
“I want you to get off.”
“No, you don’t,” he said, voice low. “Running on fumes here, aren’t you, boy scout?”
“Have a bunch of mutated goons throw you into things and tell me how you’d feel.” He was pliant under the hand, not wanting to aggravate the bruise nor Krauser further. “You had a hand in some of that, by the way.”
“Was thinking of using something other than my hand.”
“Stop making it easy, Leon.” He pressed forward, putting the tent of his pants against the bared skin, humping a little at the back of the other man’s balls. He hunched over, hovering near an ear. “Or do, because if you try to hit me again; I’ll slit your throat.”
Leon called him on it: “No, you won’t.”
Krauser huffed out a laugh. “No, I won’t, but I’ll bounce your head off that wall and fuck you anyway. But, you wanna be here for it, don’t you?”
“Jack,” he choked out, probably intending it to be another protest or threat, but his voice stopped the moment big hands started down his sides and back.
The alpha moved with them, watching the indentation left briefly in their wake until he got back to that ass. Here there was no bruising, only pale, flawless skin. He set one hand to each cheek and pulled them apart. In his peripheral he could see Leon’s head bow, maybe in shame. It didn’t matter, though, not with that pink sphincter twitching and exposed.
He touched a thumb to it and watched the muscle tighten. “Don’t suppose you have any lube in one of those pouches?” Leon didn’t answer, but considering the question was rhetorical the older man didn’t care much. He dragged his thumb back and forth and then set forward.
The scent of omega and sweat were there and so were their tastes. Salty and Leon in the way that any omega’s flavor was unique. Krauser lapped his tongue along it once and strengthened his grip when the body beneath him instinctively shuddered. When the tight pucker began to relax he focused his tongue on it, swirling around the folded lines and then prodding up against them. When he tried to push inside, Leon gave a soft cry of surprise.
He wondered, as he flicked and pushed and added his drool to the wetness coming so easily, so freely now, if anybody had done this to the agent before. It was a shame, if not, with the ass he had. With how responsive his body was being, if not his mind. But then, the idea of someone seeing and touching and licking and fucking the omega made his chest heat, made something uglier than what was already in him thrash around beneath his lungs.
He’d already embraced the first so the second was much easier to label possession and accept it. Leon was his now—anyone could see that, if Krauser let them.
And he would—later. He’d fuck Leon full and leave him dripping and smelling of him. He’d put his mark into this pliant body that time wouldn’t heal. He’d let the world see the pleasure he’d taken. He’d let Saddler smell his scent on the man who’d eventually end his life.
He had no doubts in his skill—and he’d let him do it. His omega would make him proud…and then deliver the sample like the good mate he was going to be.
His pants were starting to hurt, swelled as he was by blood and arousal and all the thoughts making him high. He didn’t want to rush eating Leon out, but he knew they were on borrowed time as it was. When his tongue pushed into the sucking heat, he traded it out for his fingers.
The omega was wet and slippery and opening up for claiming. As eager as his hole was, though, Krauser still took his time spreading him with one, two, three fingers… and then four, just to see if he could. Leon took it with quiet, gulps of air every so often accented with tiny, gravel-like sounds of enjoyment. When he started massaging his walls, fingering over the soft bumpy flesh inside to find his prostate—that was when his voice started to break free. When he found it, Leon’s head tossed back and he gave a startled half-broken moan.
Krauser withdrew his fingers slowly and then smeared them along the side of the other man’s thigh so he could feel just how wet he was for it. Then he undid his belt and fly to free his aching dick. It was purple and eager and big and he knew the omega was going to suck up every inch of it.
He set the weight of it between Leon’s ass cheeks, rutting and letting him feel its girth. “Might not need any lube with how excited you are. Still, I’ll try not to wreck you too bad.” He leant over his back again to graze his neck with teeth.
One of the other man’s hands reached back and found a strap on his tactical harness. He gave it a swift tug and Krauser was about to growl, but it got caught halfway when those deft fingers navigated to the front and began undoing the buckles. When they’d all clicked free, the alpha shrugged it off and hefted the smaller man against him. He lowered his mouth to suck at the seam of his neck and shoulder. Right where he was going to leave his mark.
“Wanted to feel me?”
“My back is a minefield and I don’t want you tearing it open worse because you have some kind of buckle fetish.”
Krauser laughed. “You know, I always liked that smart mouth of yours. One day I’m gonna shove my cock in it.”
The other man gave a self-assured little huff. “Doesn’t feel like you’re gonna last long no matter what you do. Good; I don’t have all night.”
The alpha grabbed his throat to threaten his air again. “Go ahead, Leon. Keep pretending you weren’t moaning with my tongue up your ass.” He spat into his free hand, reaching down to spread it over the skin of his dick. When he was satisfied he rubbed the head over the slippery opening. “Wonder what you’ll sound like when I bottom out… Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Krauser pushed the head in, grunting as the inner muscles resisted, but then—then it slipped in. Then it welcomed him. Like he belonged there. Being inside the omega was as hot as he’d imagined, as gripping and sucking.
“Slow—” Leon half-sobbed it, cut off when the bigger man freed his neck to wrap an arm around his chest—to hold fast to his hip so he could work his way deeper.
Despite his command, the agent’s body took the pace he set in one firm glide to the hilt. Krauser bowed his head, shuddering at the feeling, at the thought of how readily his dick was taken. He was not a small man, by any means, and any other partner would’ve taken much more preparation, would’ve needed him to go slow and gentle. But not Leon S. Kennedy.
He needed no other sign that Leon wanted this. That Leon wanted him. That Leon was his.
He released a shaky breath against his opponent’s neck and then sucked the spot of skin into his mouth, enjoying, briefly, the feeling of being balls deep. Of feeling the trembling against him. Of feeling the minute spasms of Leon’s hole. Of feeling the way his body was unconsciously swaying back.
The smaller man’s hands moved up, covered the forearm wrapped about his torso. His nails dug deep into muscle.
Krauser bit down, slipped himself half-way free, and then slammed back home.
There was a guttural sound that broke from the agent’s throat. It was wet and hoarse and heady, and each thrust Krauser pulled to hammer in was just to get him to make that sound again. To cry out from the way the alpha’s thickness was stretching him, molding his insides to its shape and use.
Leon didn’t give in easy, though. What fun would it be if he did?
He was stifling himself, biting his lip or tongue to keep his silence. Whether it was due to his dignity or to just deny Krauser of a bit of pleasure out of spite was anybody’s guess. It didn’t matter either way. He wasn’t going to be denied.
He dropped his grip away so he could skim his fingers up to Leon’s chest. When he circled each pectoral the omega arched into it. When Krauser pinched his nipples, that got him hisses. When he rolled the nubs with his fingers, that got him labored breathing. When he did it on a particularly hard thrust, that got him voice.
“Greedy slut,” Krauser complimented.
Leon elbowed him at that, though it wasn’t hard. It reminded him of two years ago in that locker room. Of how easy the banter had been then.
“You want to be, though, don’t you? My slut?”
Called on it, Krauser yanked his hands away and shoved him back down into the dirt. He took hold of his hips, found his balance, and pulled out so he could start fucking Leon the way an omega needed to be fucked and bred.
The hard, elongated, and swift movements punched little sounds out of the man below him. As he rammed into him, adding his own bruises to the pale skin in the shape of his fingers, they escalated from gasps to whimpers to grunts. Finally, finally, his voice melded into a groan when Krauser wrapped his fingers around his slick cock to tug it in time with his pounding.
The sound of their coupling was obscene and echoed off the ancient walls surrounding them. Every cry that poured from Leon’s throat, every grunt from Krauser’s, every sucking, wet slop of dick dipping in and out of a tight pucker, every slap of his balls as he buried himself the deepest he could rebounded right back to their ears, speeding their pace and heightening their ecstasy.
Leon was drenched both in front and behind, his body ready for the bigger man’s load, ready for his breeding, ready for an orgasm that would wrack his body and mind. That would shake him, make him forget himself more than he already had groaning and grinding back on the thick girth spearing him open.
“That’s it,” Krauser whispered, running a reverent hand up the omega’s side. A particularly sharp spike of pleasure reeled him, made him bend over his former partner again. Made him gather him close, pass a tongue over the shell of his ear before speaking into it: “You’re close, aren’t you? Ready to take me all in?” He pressed his forehead to his neck. “Want my knot?”
Leon was practically vibrating beneath him when he readjusted his weight so that he could wrap one hand around the one Krauser was using to work him over. The older man stayed like that for a moment, pressed deep while they listened to the slick sound of palm on stiff cock. He even dragged one of his thumbs over the tip.
The smaller man keened at that.
Krauser leant back and shifted Leon to his side, shoving him down and angling his legs so that one thigh was over the other—so he had complete access to empty his load, to mark his territory, to make his claim and remain locked in that gripping heat. He could feel himself swelling and still he kept his body undulating, kept driving down and rolling his hips to snag Leon’s prostate each time.
The agent twisted, lying back so he could watch Krauser hump down into him. The older man met his eyes and held the gaze, knowing both their faces were slackened and yet somehow tight in pursuit of their release and pleasure. But their eyes, their brows—more was spoken in that gaze than any of the barbed words they’d fallaciously thrown at one another all night.
One of Leon’s hands reached out, caressing just below the former soldier’s navel, soft and alien compared to everything that had come before. Rattled, Krauser shifted and fucked down in short little lurches against the spot that would spur the agent’s orgasm. His hand fell because of it, thudding in the dirt, useless and unnecessary.
Unnecessary because in the next moment, between one moan and the next, the first jet of cum shot out of his dick, untouched and provoked only by inner stimulation. Krauser had never made a man squirt like that, had never been more turned on in his life, had never swelled so quickly and stuck inside so fast in response to someone else’s body and face and voice in the throes of orgasm.
But now, he did. He ground in, stuck and only able to roll against that spot to prolong his mate’s bliss. Leon’s cum had landed on his chest and some had been wasted in the dirt. Krauser lamented that he couldn’t curl over him and lick it all up.
“Jack,” the smaller man choked, overstimulated and overheated, blue eyes standing out so starkly now that all his skin was flushed pink.
Krauser relented and hunched his back, crowding close and undulating his hips to chase his own pleasure. His knot was caught under the rim, tugging the muscle as he moved, as his cock pulsed and his cum splattered every crevice inside of Leon. He gave a carnal growl against where he’d shoved his mouth to the agent’s shoulder, riding out each surge of his own extended orgasm.
There was a soft touch to the base of his skull, a gentle pet of fingertips in his hair. Too gentle. He reared up and without looking fastened his mouth to Leon’s.
It opened up readily beneath him, beckoning in his tongue with a quiet groan.
When it was finished Krauser moved back only a centimeter to breathe and wasn’t sure how to feel when those fingers from before pressed over his upper lip to his cheek.
“…Thought you faked the accident?”
Krauser looked at him then. His face was pink where it wasn’t smeared with red paint, but his eyes looked more lucid than he had any right being. The alpha wasn’t going to take it as a slight against his skill considering what the younger man still had yet to face.
“After trying to kill you and then fucking you, that’s what you ask?”
“You were only ever after the fucking,” Leon said, absolutely certain.
Krauser grabbed his jaw, hard. “Not the only thing.”
The secret agent didn’t avert his eyes like any good, submissive omega would. “You gonna go soft soon? I have to keep moving.”
The soldier tried not to let his amusement show. “And I’m just going to let you go?”
“You think I got what I wanted?”
“Don’t know; don’t really have time to care, Krauser.”
“I think we both liked it better when you were calling out my first name.” He jerked Leon’s face to the side and watched the tendons of his neck stretch.
His former partner caught on immediately. “Don’t.”
“You think you’re in any position to be giving demands?”
“You think I would’ve let this happen otherwise?”
Krauser hated how much that statement aroused him, how his cock jerked as if trying to fill the other man up all over again. “You’re not leaving here without my mark on you.”
“Think you left it pretty deep,” he quipped. “I already smell like you.”
“That’s not enough.” He lowered his mouth.
“I said don’t.” One of his arms shot up to deliver a savage palm strike to Krauser’s jaw.
The alpha grunted, jostled and dazed. When his vision began to clear he sneered at the feeling of Leon jostling to free himself. He coiled his arms around the younger man’s torso and squeezed him still.
“Jack,” he whispered. “Not while this thing’s in me.”
Krauser froze, poised above the seam of his neck and shoulder. He held him, counted the way the omega’s heartbeat slowed now that he realized he had spoken directly to the bigger man’s rationality.
He was right. That plagas needed to be destroyed. He wasn’t going to let anything or anyone taint Leon. Not now that he had him. Not now that there had been some promise to those words.
Krauser eased his hold and gradually inched himself free from where they’d been locked together. He hadn’t undressed besides his harness and he wanted to keep smelling Leon’s scent on his skin, so he tucked himself back into his pants. He scooted back against one of the walls and watched intently as the younger man gathered himself, as well.
In one of his pouches he found some kind of medical wipe, probably used to apply some herb mixture. He used it instead to wipe his chest clean of his spend before reaching back to do the same at his opening. When he was satisfied, or at least as clean as he could get, he reached out and yanked his shirt back down over his head. Then he pulled up his pants, zipped up, belted up, and sat up slowly.
Krauser watched him put every pouch and weapon back into place. The only time he looked away was when Leon put his flashlight back onto his hip but not before playfully aiming the beam directly in the older man’s face. When he stood, he almost looked as if nothing had happened, save for the swell of his lips and the smear of red paint around them.
“…Is there a way to get the parasite out?” He made eye contact. “Is it too late?”
He didn’t hesitate: “You’d know if it were. Good thing that Spaniard gave you those pills.” He stood. “There’s a machine in Saddler’s lab. You’ve gotta go there to get the girl. You’ll find it.”
Leon searched his face. “…Come with me. You can help me.”
Krauser laughed. “And risk word getting out?
“Getting to Wesker, you mean.”
The alpha closed the gap between them and settled a heavy hand around the back of his mate’s neck. He reeled him in. “Say I help you—would you give me the sample?”
“Over my dead body.”
Krauser laughed again. “I prefer it alive. Still not done with you, Kennedy.” He thought about kissing him again, but shoved him away instead. “Go on, boy scout,” he encouraged, rummaging in a pocket and withdrawing the last insignia piece to throw at him. “Go play hero.”
Leon caught it. He turned it over once, pocketed it, and met Krauser’s gaze again. There was nothing more to be said—only more to happen in their future. The soldier would see to that.
That confident, determined expression took over the younger man’s face. He went as marble—as some classical statue of Ares himself; beautiful and deadly. He left without another word, turning and heading to the northern part of the ruins to collect the last piece.
Krauser waited until he heard the gate open and the door shut to follow. He’d find a way to get a sample, even if he had to go find the remains of Salazar or Mendez himself. But first… first he had another death to fake.
And then… then he’d follow and watch and admire the trail of destruction left by his omega.