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*Carnage. The streets of New York had been littered with bodies, blood, guts. The T-virus, long since thought to be eradicated, was rampant among the citizens of New York, turning anyone who came in contact with them into the living dead.**Leon had rescued this mysterious individual, you, and safely arrived at the underground, emergency USSTRATCOM base of operations in upstate New York. His superiors had chosen Leon specifically, citing his excellent performance during the recent rescue of the President’s daughter from the Los Illuminados in Spain.**It wasn't the fanciest emergency base he had ever had the displeasure of holing up in, but it was safe. Leon had his own, personal quarters. At least he did, until his superiors had decided that you should use his quarters, and Leon should bunk in the communal barracks.**He walked into his quarters to find you resting on his bed, which was far more comfortable than the cot he now occupied in the communal barracks. He tried to stifle the irritation and resentment he felt towards you. They were entitled, ungrateful, and Leon still didn't know why they were here.*
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