RESIDENT EVIL: LOCKDOWN

Just to let all who read know, I'm doing some revising to this fic. This may include changes to the plot, for the convenience of the these revisions. Sorry for those who've taken the time to read! Also, the fic has been changed from a sequel to basically "the next story in the series" due to stretches in the storyline. I will place a similar warning for the following chapters that get revised, or you can simply put the fic on Alert. By the way, the mercenary team name "Hell's Angels" is credited to Zoshonel(thanks, buddy!) Thanks for reading Lockdown! AstralSpectre

Prologue

The place was a disaster. Computer consoles were trashed, their monitors displaying huge gaping holes with jagged glass shards around it. Old computer chairs laid strewn about, evidence that the staff here had frantically made for an escape. And among the still sparking cables and glass pieces on the ground were blood stains, thick, viscous blotches of blood. Some of the blood seemed to have trailed off into other rooms. There was so much to look into, yet noone dared to foolishly jump in.

Like an ill omen to warn others, a patrolman was found on the ground, the body completely mangled into an indescribable mess. Limbs were either missing or twisted impossibly from one point to another. Small parts, like the eyes, lips, and fingers, were sheered off cleanly. One of the "men from the company" stared at the remains of the guard, wondering just what could have gotten him. The only corpse in the vicinity, and it had to have the telltale signs of predation. From what little he knew about "the company" he imagined it was the result of some lab test subjects that went loose. Maybe it was that guard's handgun with an emptied magazine that disturbed him most. What could take that many shots and still live to kill the shooter? Either way, it wasn't his place to question what these people were doing. It was dangerous thinking for someone with this kind of job. What mattered at that moment was that the President himself ordered his group to clean out the place, so to speak.

"Hey, Benny, what're you doing over there?" called out a grouchy man. "Get over here, now!"

"Alright already, jeez," the company cleanup, Ben, replied, his words so hushed it seemed almost to himself.. He managed to break his gaze from the body on the ground and headed through the clutter of broken machinery and bloody papers. The lab was a wreck, beyond the point of quick repair. Mostly everything was expensive, too, making him wonder exactly where an underdeveloped pharmaceutical company came up with the stuff. And even then, the higher-ups in the company, the ones who instructed them on where to go and what to do, seemed oblivious of that fact.

"Ben, over here," called out a rather soft-spoken soldier from afar.

"What did you find, Roy!" cried out the soldier named Ben. He jogged lightly to the rookie's position, finding the captain, their grouchy leader, beside him. "What's wrong, everything okay?" The captain only wore a stern face, one that overshadowed a look of worry. He put away his walkie-talkie.

"I don't know how to say this exactly, but . . ."

The soldier named Roy just lowered his head, his grim eyes barely visible through his bio-protection helmet. But Ben saw it, the raw fear that he shot out of his very eyes. It made him feel queasy.

"Well, spit it out already!" Ben shouted, his heart pounding harder as each second passed. The next words came to him like a slap to the face, words that struck every nerve in his body.

"The others . . . they're dead."

"What!" Ben couldn't believe what his captain was saying. There were a whole twenty-two of them! And at the moment, only four were in the room. Cal, the fourth, was lookout, watching the door and-

"AHHHHHHH!"

There was a strangled shout from down the hall they came from, the voice sounding liquid after a few seconds. Then, nothing. Not even a gunshot. The silence afterwards drove the others into a state of temporary shock. Ben's insides turned into mush as the others just looked at each other vaguely, their hope for Cal fading. The three held up their AK's and hurried out of the office and over to the door they had just walked through minutes ago. The automatic door struggled to rise as the captain approached, the soft electronic hum of the thing echoing every five seconds uselessly. Something bulky blocked access to the door through the other side. There was a faint crunching sound, so inaudible over the electronic door, it seemed an illusion. Fresh, runny blood streamed in numerous trickles from the bottom of the door, sealing Cal's fate.

Oh, God, Cal! He's dead!

Even as each one of them thought it, they forced out the ruminations and doubts and turned right around. Whatever was on that side was not worth facing for the body of a fallen comrade. They needed theirs; Cal sure didn't.

"Keep your guards up!" yelled the captain. Ben took the rear, leaving Cal's remains to the killer. The young soldier, Roy, took the front; he must have been only eighteen, nineteen at best. The way his breath quivered and his eyes darted back and forth made Ben feel even more uneasy, like he was back at training. Ben's nerves began to ache like it always did when things got out of hand. However, this time was different. He had a strange instinctive understanding that he wouldn't be coming out of this alive. His adrenaline rush reached its peak, though, when the men began to hear shuffling noises from back at the derelict office. It sounded like someone stumbling over the fallen papers and chairs. They heard the high-pitched sound of an automatic door whine from one of the many passageways that led to that room. Somewhere around that very office, one of the killers could be lurking, maybe test subjects gone wrong. Desperation, despair, and rage mingled in an unbalanced craze Ben could hardly contain. "Cleaning up" did not mean going face to face with a bioweapon! They were sent in to merely collect field data and turn the anti- B.O.W. gas on. The job did appear to be too easy. It seemed they were now going to be the field data, an irony that soon began to make more sense.

The team of three marched slowly forward, wary of the cluttered surroundings and dark corners. The hallway they ran through was much obscurer than the wasted lab office. Ben could hear the rapid breathing of the others, completely unaware of his own. Sweat trickled down his back by the bucket as his body tried its best to adjust to the current threat.

Again, the automatic door, this time the one they just went through to exit the office. Whoever, whatever was killing everyone was now in the same room as them. The captain froze, his gun aiming at something the others couldn't see. Was it a test creature, or was it a person? He surely couldn't hear anything. Ben saw the captain hold his fire, unsure of the figure approaching. He leaned in to take a closer look; the figure was that of a human, only he looked injured as he silently treaded. He limped, swaggering from one side of the wall to the next. He nearly fell over after his third step forward. However, something was off.

"Don't let him get any closer . . ." whispered the captain.

"What if it's one of the guys, maybe still alive?" It was Roy who said it and he was also the only one not backing up yet. "Look, he's wearing one of our uniforms!"

"Roy, you idiot! Get the hell over here, now!" growled the captain, his voice low.

A ceiling fan hung from overhead, its light illuminating that segment of the hall ever slightly. They all backed up slowly while the injured soldier ambled clumsily. Ben could swear his right arm hung loosely, too loosely.

"Who are you, identify yourself!" the captain shouted, his voice as tense as his face appeared. "Come any closer, and I'll have to . . ."

The captain paused mid-sentence as the figure stepped into full light. They all saw it. Ben's body surged with a fear he never felt before. The soldier, that mutilated, battered form that once was a man, was lurching toward them. It was unreal, a mockery of what he knew was right and natural. The creature before them clearly defied death. It released a moan that sent chills up his spine, his blood-covered face revealing beady, gray eyes layered in pus beneath thready locks of matted hair. Such sudden decay; they were only within the complex for an hour or two. A string of bloody saliva fell from its lipless mouth, falling onto its sinewy wounds which gleamed wetly in the light. Its left leg was nearly hanging from a string of gristly flesh, the creature using it to support its upper thigh as it continued to hobble over.

In a flash of a moment, it somehow gained speed, its arms outstretched. It released a gurgled sound with a groan of suffering and hunger as it lunged for Roy. Roy opened fire as the thing put its rancid hands on his shoulders. The bullets flew through the creature, blood spurting out from its back. Yet it still continued to wrestle Roy, finding hidden strength to get closer to his face. Some yellowish liquid dribbled down the thing's mouth as it nearly tumbled the young man over. Losing his rifle in the process, Roy used any and all strength and managed to detach himself from the grotesque husk of a human. His first impulse was to turn and run for his armed allies. Ben and his captain held their guns at the ready, the two prepared to blast the thing to shit. However, like a figment of the mind come to life, the monster released something from its mouth, long and tube-like. It had many other tubes, needle-like things that could puncture through a tree. It dug into the back of the boy's neck, stopping him on the spot. Ben froze, the image surreal. Then, when things couldn't get any more impossible, long, sharp skeletal brown appendages shot out from the thing's ears. Like an insect's mandibles, it stretched out and opened. The captain looked away when he realized what the creature was going to attempt. Ben couldn't resist. His eyes were hypnotized by the chimaera before him. After a very long second, the mandibles snapped shut, spritzing blood on everything in all directions. Ben was no exception. The headless Roy slowly, wobbly slumped to floor with a wet thud. His eyes wandered drunkenly to the walking corpse, its neck engorged by the skull of the boy who was alive just seconds ago.

With a groaning shout, the captain unleashed streams of bullets all about the creature. As if in a spasm, the thing convulsed, red tiny holes appearing throughout its body. It kept its footing and tried to get closer. Dumbfounded, Ben assisted his superior and finally brought the thing down in a great puddle of oily blood. Mandibles and feeder tubes receded back within the shell that was once a person.

All those bullets, and . . .

Ben just stood there, watching the body of the dead monstrosity. It continued to digest the head it swallowed, making the pair wonder the extent of the thing's death. At least thirty holes through its sickly flesh. Still it showed some signs of life, if that word could even apply.

"Come on!" yelled the captain, pulling at his arm, simultaneously snapping him out of his moment of trauma. With something else at their tail end, they needed to move quickly. They ran into the office, noticing at least three more shambling, moaning things heading their way. There was a lady, her hair color indistinguishable in the blood it was soaked in, her lab coat caked with gore. Two other male scientists, one missing an eye, came at them, too, their faces utterly blank and expressionless. Through the nearby door, several more fought their way inside, struggling to get to fresh meat. Two of them were wearing the same suits as their own, the masked camo outfit. Ben had to wonder for that split second if those two would be him and the captain soon.

How can this be happening? We were only here investigating for a short while, all fine and joking around and making fun of the company and, God, I don't want to die yet!

The captain gave him one last look filled with much remorse. His eyes appeared teary, his facial expression one he never thought he'd see on him. It was the most horrifying sight yet, driving him over the breaking point.

"There's no chance," he stated sorrowfully, and the gun was placed below his chin and-

PANG!

"NO!"

Ben backed away from the room filled with the dead, the captain now included. There was no way he'd live. He took the captain's gun and walked backward, half-aware that the dead began feasting on the guts and limbs splayed on the marble floor. He heard movement back in the hallway where Roy was killed, noticing that the bullet-riddled creeper had gotten back up to join it for lunch. Wryly, he let out a hysterical laugh and began blasting the place down, even as the abominations came nearer and nearer.

-CHAPTER 1-

Rebecca Chambers got off her couch, turning off her television just before tossing the remote away as she walked over to her kitchen. She opened her refrigerator and took out a leftover slice of pizza from the day before, shoving it haphazardly into her microwave. She yawned, her mind still dwelling on the news flash subject she listened to just a few minutes ago. Apparently, a rather large area in Europe was bombed because of some strange outbreak. Many civilians were euthanized in the process. It vaguely reminded her of Raccoon City. The real details, of course, weren't mentioned.

Wanna watch a good horror flick? Tune in to the news at five! a sarcastic voice in her head lashed out.

The truth was it had become too unbearable to watch, even listen. After all, she had her share of horrible news back when. Days of agonizing biding, just waiting for the dreaded "Raccoon City is doomed" announcement to show up. Watching hopelessly as her new urban home began to fall apart all thanks to Umbrella. She was twenty-five years old now, but a helluva lot happened when she was a mere eighteen. She refused to let in the rest of the memories and took out the warmed slice from the microwave. She absently took a bite, her thoughts lingering on the surprising phone call she received just two days ago. A request to aid in research to prevent things like the "Raccoon Incident" from happening again. The caller obviously knew her role in the incident itself and realized that she had commenced her work in the biochemistry field. But what shocked her the most was that the President of the United States himself handpicked her. They were to meet at New York City. Just like that, the biochemist became a VIP as well as some super heroine.

Since the horrible days the citizens of Raccoon had to bear witness to, Rebecca helped the remaining STARS, anti-Umbrella organizations, and U.S. agents dig out the Umbrella HQ and finish them right there on the spot. Hundreds of lawbending, nature-twisting asswipes were placed responsible, and hundreds more in hiding were swept out of nearby countries. It was a time of great accomplishments, of sacrifice and of justice and relief. During the end of the big fight, she contributed more. The wiz kid, as she was known as, had done all the studying she could to make sure something like the Raccoon City Incident would never happen again. Shortly after the fall of Umbrella, Rebecca and several other determined scientists were given a lab where she studied preserved specimen found at the HQ. Her team eventually turned up with a cure for the unnatural T-virus, naming it "Daylight" in memory of a fallen doctor of Raccoon who figured out a partial synthesis during the crisis. She and her team of scientists received the Nobel Peace Prize only a year and a half ago for their unerring dedication to helping mankind. Strangely, word had it that was the only bioweapon they unearthed in the rubble of Umbrella HQ; the legendary G-virus and the oh-so-elusive T-Veronica virus were missing, as well as plenty of other strains and weapons. It would seem somebody picked up well before their crumbling demise.

Regardless, Rebecca just couldn't say no to President Graham. Suppose there was another crisis somewhere, maybe involving this "outbreak" in Europe? Despite her excitement and honor for the job, she couldn't help feel uneasy about this whole thing. Even to this day, guilt had always washed over her whenever she found herself lost in thought over the technicalities of the horrors Umbrella brewed. In the past, she had lacked much confidence, especially for being an eighteen year old college grad student joining STARS. She was even considered a child prodigy in her younger years, but still the feelings of ineptitude lingered. She preferred the simple life and embraced her accomplishments silently. Regardless of her incompetence, time had been running out. She ended up choosing to face her reluctance in ability.

She went to her room, the tiny apartment suiting her well. Rebecca kept her apartment simple; not many ornaments, several pictures of herself with the family, one snapshot of her and her STARS buddies, and a big old couch across from the tv. Many people had complaints about the drab crowded place. However, aside from a nice little house in the suburbs complete with a garden, a lake in the back, and a fancy gazebo to overlook the sunset, this was her dream home.

The bedroom was nice and tidy, her two briefcases and carry-on already packed and set to go. Her neighbor, Abbey, said she'd take good care of her few house plants and fish while she was out, making her feel a little more at ease.

"Well, better get going," she told herself, lugging her things outside to the hallway. She gave her quiet apartment one last quick glance before closing the door and locking it; Abbey already had her spare. She had to fly from Michigan to NY, the state she'd once lived in when everything was . . . normal. She couldn't kid herself. Everything changed from that fateful day onward, when her helicopter crashed and left her team stranded. By the time she got to meet with Alpha Team, she was already the only living Bravo in the mansion.

The mansion . . .

She shook off her thoughts immediately, not wanting to remember those depressing events in her life. They fought themselves back in anyway, refusing to be forgotten. Richard, Kenneth, Enrico, all of them were dead, killed by the virus-carriers at that mansion. She kept those memories strongly suppressed, did so for nearly six years.

But now things are different, she thought. She was making a difference in the world, creating vaccines to those viruses so that nothing like Raccoon, or Sheena Island for that matter, ever happens again.

Rebecca would only remain inflated with confidence for long. She checked her cell phone for any missed calls. Nothing. Everything was in check. It was time to go. With a final sigh, she departed for the airport.

Q U E E N

It was the late evening and Queen was at the lounge watching Joker play Jack at pool. It was amusement on its own. She snickered as Joker cursed loudly at Jack's combo.

"Goddamn it! It's the fifth time in a row! At this rate, I'll lose all my earnings from our last mission!"

Jack, as placid as he always was, chuckled lightly to himself, his blue eyes appearing almost child-like. It seemed as if Queen had known everyone on the team forever. Their mercenary team was composed of some of the most skilled and interesting people from all around the world. Queen herself was from California. However, she lacked all the qualities(if it could even be called that) those valley girls had. She had short black hair, clipped back to the side. She was quite on the pale side, also having a tomboyish look to her. She wore a cut-off shirt and pants reaching down to her boots. Sure, she wasn't Miss Eloquence, but she wasn't unattractive.

"Hey, Queen! Wanna try a game with me?" It was Joker, of course, calling her over; everyone on the team was given a code name, basically to emphasize that it didn't matter where they came from, and partly because it was just fun. It had been ages since they'd call each other by their real names. Well, except for their captain.

Joker was third-in-command among their mercenary brigade they called "Hell's Angels". He excelled at handling weapons of all sorts, as well as any equipment they used, such as the vests and tasers. He was an excellent shot, but better suited for support. After all, he was the eldest of the team, which always resulted in teasing from the younger members. However, when it came to skill, none would object. He was also a decent gambler, when lady luck was on his side. His jet black hair in a ponytail and his mustache made him appear younger, but he couldn't quite hide the slight wrinkles that gave away his age.

Then, there was Jack, a true mystery only because he barely spoke. The young man was handsome, having spiky blond hair and always wearing a blue bandana around his forehead. His build was quite thin, but easily fit for combat. Sharpshooting was his forte. Naturally, he enjoyed lugging his crossbow along on missions, although it was unnecessary. Still, he was highly adept with it, just as he would with a nine millimeter. Of the team, he was fifth-in-command, which was good for someone who was fairly new in the team.

Queen crossed her legs and gave Joker a cynical look, in which he responded with a careful studying; when dealing with the only woman on the brigade, the others tended to watch their words.

"Me? Gamble? Against YOU? Please!"

"What, I'm not good enough for you, Queen?" he retorted jokingly.

"Ha! I could easily whoop your sorry ass!"

The three laughed in good-nature, their words echoing in the hotel they were staying at for the night. They were all set for their next job, given to them by a strange organization. Their team leader, King, always took care of the objectives for them, so they often had to wait for him to arrive.

"Hey! Quit fooling around," came a voice from down the hall. It was Ace, the second in command, and also the team's alcoholic. He was surprisingly slim, his shoddy, messy brown hair expressing his personality in one fell swoop. He was a lady's man, one that often ended him up with no lady by the end of the day.

To much disdain and shock, Ace was given the job of administrator for their team, which was an utter mystery all in itself. Then again, it was King, their captain, who chose him, so he must've had some talent.

"We're not fooling around," retorted Joker. "This is nothing but legit gambling, mind you."

"Quiet, old man," Ace shot back in response, "I wasn't speaking to just you."

"Knock it off, Ace, we've already packed and all," Queen added.

"Well, fine. I just hope I don't get a scolding from our captain." He sat beside Queen, stretching his legs. "So, I hear we're going in on this alone, huh?"

"Yeah, King said it'd only be us five," Queen answered, the others listening in as they continued their game.

"That's bull! Although . . . we would be getting more pay than if we brought some of the others."

The five of them had always been together on missions. They were also the most experienced of Hell's Angels. On rare occasions, they'd go their separate ways, but they worked best when on the same mission. Their platoon, anyway, was an independent branch, meeting with their superiors from time to time. But the majority of the time, it was King leading them.

"That's true," Joker added from the pool table, "then again, with you in charge of the financials, that still doesn't leave us with much."

"Why you . . ."

He was cut off when their captain marched downstairs from his meeting with a representative from the "organization". They paused looking up at him with interest.

The captain was tall and bulky. Although it was well hidden beneath his jacket, he was well-built, easily weighing two-hundred pounds, most of it muscle. He had semi-long brown hair, a part of it covering his right eye. The rest was pushed back. He had a gruff look to him, and if one were to see his right biceps and forearm, they would be able to witness his amazing tattoo that screamed rebellious. He came over, looking stern as always, yet in person, he really was a fun guy to be around. He was in his early thirties, but his face and body appeared only twenty-five.

"You guys ready?" he asked, his voice deep and low.

"Whenever you are," Ace replied with a half smile.

"What's the deal?" Queen asked him, standing up as she did so.

King steeled himself a moment to think before speaking, closing his eyes in the process.

"Our job will be more espionage than anything this time around, so prepare yourselves."

"Aw, man!" Ace blurted out in disappointment. "I hate spying around!"

"I must concur with the idiot," Joker agreed with a nod.

"Hmm, doesn't bother me," Jack said from seemingly nowhere.

" . . . You're weird," Ace said with a puzzled look. "I'd rather just blow things up instead." Ace was also a good shot, especially talented with hand-to-hand combat, making him useful for something, or at least a temporary shield.

"Whatever, let's get this over with," Queen said with a tired smile. "I want to go to Vegas by the time this is all over."

"Likewise," Ace said while stretching.

"Well, what do you say we hit the hay?" Joker inquired, the pool table stick in his hands.

"You and your old-timer expressions," Ace stated with a smile before walking off to bed.

"You're an ass, you know that?" he shot back, also heading upstairs.

"I'm beat," Jack finished, being the last for the moment to go up.

"Everything okay, captain? You've seemed overly stressed lately." Queen noticed he had something on his mind for awhile.

"Oh, not really. Sorry, Queen. You know, I told you guys you could call me by my real name."

"Nah! King suits you well. Ever since you came, you've pulled us up. Now, everybody hires us. Remember when President Graham asked us to do that last mission?"

"Hah! Yeah, what a nightmare."

The two laughed for some time, barely noticing how late it was getting.

"Well, you better get some rest for tomorrow," King told her.

"You're right. Have a good night, captain."

"Same to you."

Queen headed upstairs to her room, wondering what exactly the job was. However, the team always trusted the captain's decision, the same way he would put his life in their hands. He always made sure the job was safe enough. Six years ago, life was very miserable. The pay was lousy, work was dull, and Hell's Angels didn't see much action as it was. However, he pulled them out of the slump. A real go-getter, he was. Or maybe someone who tried to forget a lot by pushing forward. It was futile trying to figure him out. They've all grown fond of the man, despite his enigmatic past.

Then again, all of them had their secrets. She decided to stop thinking about it and go to sleep. The following day was going to be a big one indeed.