Chapter 1: Second Wind
He quickly shot a quick glance at his dark surroundings as the whirling Night Hawk helicopter silently spun away leaving him on his own. The humid tropical air clung heavily to his pale face as he silently slid through the thick foliage of the forest. The menacingly low trees hung low around him giving him the feeling that an unknown enemy was glaring at him, waiting for its chance to kill the young man. He tightened his grip on the stainless steel of his combat knife. The shining ivory of the moon was shrouded in the navy blue of the clouds as the young man concentrated on the sounds of the jungle. He could hear the wind rustling the leaves around him as well as the shuffling of dirt beneath his feet. But as he concentrated more he could hear the sound of a rushing river that he determined to be exactly 1.4 miles away.
Instinctively the young man increased his pace, he couldn't remember how he could hear things that were too far away for any man to hear. He felt that he should know, that the answer waited for him in the shadows. The heavy black boots that he wore moved remarkably fast, seemingly almost to fast for any human or animal for that matter. What was he doing here, and what was he looking for. Sweat started to bead down his handsome features as the humidity made his fatigues cling closely to his body. He looked down at the uniform hoping that it would give him some kind of idea of who he was, but he only found a crimson and white emblem emblazed on the hunter green fatigues that he wore. The emblem looked like an umbrella with the interchanging colors of crimson and white on the patterns.
What was the pattern that seemed so familiar to him, again the answers to all his questions seemed to be in the darkness of his mind. A heavy fog fell instantly engulfing his body, instinctively he slashed at the fog with his combat knife expecting the unknown enemy to be the cause of the dense fog. A low growl began to emit itself from all around him, although he heard the river from almost two miles away, he couldn't pin point where the sound was coming from. Without warning, the young man felt something heavy on his back. Something that was clawing at him with razor sharp claws, and digging it's teeth into the man's warm flesh. His knees buckled below him with the thing still on his back, a waiting pool of scarlet blood waiting for him to crumple into it.
Pierre Dupree silently ran his pale white hand through his sweat soaked blonde hair as he awoke to find himself laying in the hard bed that sufficed for his bunk. Doctor Jennings, Umbrella's top researcher, had said that night terrors would be one of the many side effects that the injection of the T-Virus would have on him, but Pierre couldn't help but think that the night terrors were just another one of Lord Spencer's psychological tests. Each night he had the same dream, every night seeming more real than the night before. It seemed as though his hard bed had not sat in the small steel room but instead sat in a humid jungle.
Pierre thought it strange that he could never remember in his dream that he had been enhanced by Lord Spencer by using the T-Virus. And what did the jungle have to do with Umbrella. Pierre quickly shook his heads, trying to dislodge the answerless questions from his head. It wasn't becoming of a soldier to question his superiors as to why he was having night terrors. He had let his emotions overcome him once, and it had cost him his two partners. Before he could finish his though a sharp beeping noise erupted from the intercom beside his bunk. He quickly tapped the large circular button on the side of the intercom causing a calm voice to flow from the speaker.
"Dupree, your presence is requested by Lord Spencer in his office ASAP," a womanly voice commanded from the green intercom.
"I'll be there in five minutes," Pierre responded quickly as he let go of the large button.
Pierre's ice blue eyes quickly adjusted to the pitch black room making it seem as though the room was completely lit. He quickly spotted his combat green fatigues laying on the cold steel desk of his barracks. The fatigues were emblazed with the internationally known scarlet and white Umbrella insignia. He silently pulled his muscular white body out of the sweat stained sheets and onto the cold floor. He quickly pulled on the hunter green fatigues and laced up his ebony combat boots before he reached for his beret that he had placed on the bottom of his bed. The pure black beret was emblazed with a silver cobra that looked as though it was ready to attack. The silver cobra meant that he was Lord Spencer's "war dog", or right hand man. Pierre silently ran his rough fingers over the cobra before placing it over his ash blonde hair and stepping out of the undecorated steel room.
Pierre's small room had been placed close to Lord Spencer's office as soon as he had been named Lord Spencer's war dog. Which meant that Pierre was always at Spencer's beckoning call. The small stretch of dimly lit corridor in the vast building that separated him from Spencer was filled with the bustling movement of scientists in starch white lab coats scurrying around with stacks of papers since the labs were located under them and the entrance ways were in the corridor. Most of scientists with blood shot eyes seemingly didn't even notice the 6'2 194 pound soldier dressed in combat fatigues, but the ones who did quickly tried to cover up the shock of seeing an actual war dog. Once you were appointed War Dog everyone was supposed to cower at your very sight, since one of the War Dog's duties to Lord Spencer was to punish the people that he saw as unfit to work for Umbrella.
Pierre quickly reached the large polished oak door that marked the entrance way to Lord Spencer's office which was guarded by two men that were dressed in dark business suits. Why Spencer had insisted on having those grunts guard the entrance instead of two of Umbrella's soldiers was beyond him. Since the two men in business suits looked as though they belonged in a meeting instead of guarding Lord Spencer. At seeing his presence the two young men immediately stepped aside and opened the door for him. The least Spencer could have done was get some veteran grunts Pierre thought as he stepped into the tastefully decorated office.
The soft crimson carpet crunched under Pierre's strong frame as he stepped across the room to the sturdy oak desk that Lord Spencer sat behind. The oak walls were peppered with various paintings of Umbrella testing sights as well as former investors of Umbrella. A large bookshelf, overflowing with books on molecular biology, covered the wall on the left side. But the oak desk was by far the centerpiece of the office. The desk was easily nine feet long and three feet wide and was adorned with a small laptop, but no personal effects. Behind the desk towered a large decorative window that looked over the Narcissist Mountains.
"Sit Down, Pierre," a deep voice commanded from behind the desk.
Without hesitation Pierre immediately sat his large frame down into the awaiting crimson chair that faced the desk directly.
"There has been talk of a company rising to challenge us soon. A company coincidentally called Rainy Day. This company is not competing with us pharmaceutically, but plan on challenging our biological weaponry division or "White Umbrella" branch. I need you to gather a team up, and attack this corporation before it grows to challenge us," Lord Spencer explained coolly.
"Sir, I beg to differ with you on this matter. There is no reason for us to bother with this small company. There is no way that they can challenge our power especially that of White Umbrella," Pierre replied confidently.
"Last time I checked it was I that was your superior and not vice versa," Lord Spencer said coldly as he stared at the rising sun over the Narcissist Mountains.
"Sorry my Lord, I meant nothing of it. I will immediately assemble the team," Pierre replied embarrassedly as he rose out of his chair.
Pierre hated the thought of having to rely on someone else, especially a whole team of other people. Even though he would be in charge of the team, he would still have to trust the others. One of the golden rules that Umbrella had taught him was that you should never do something that you could not do on your own. Pierre found himself feeling extremely short tempered as he walked down the short corridor that would lead him to the elevator. Lord Spencer had wasted no time reminding him that he was still beneath his will. Without hesitation Pierre raised that stainless steel combat knife that he always carried in his boot and threw it. The glistening scarlet of blood dripped down the decorative knife as the scientist that it had pinned against the wall by his neck slid down the wall into a crumpled heap. The man's short gray hair lay against the cool white tile of the corridor as the scientists colleagues didn't dare stop to see if he was still alive. Of course they shouldn't have had to even wonder, Pierre never missed a shot and never left anyone alive when he decided to kill them. Another one of Umbrella's golden rules popped into his head, If you can't do it with one shot don't do it at all. Now, he would be able to find the teammates he needed since he had vented some of his anger.
He quickly shot a quick glance at his dark surroundings as the whirling Night Hawk helicopter silently spun away leaving him on his own. The humid tropical air clung heavily to his pale face as he silently slid through the thick foliage of the forest. The menacingly low trees hung low around him giving him the feeling that an unknown enemy was glaring at him, waiting for its chance to kill the young man. He tightened his grip on the stainless steel of his combat knife. The shining ivory of the moon was shrouded in the navy blue of the clouds as the young man concentrated on the sounds of the jungle. He could hear the wind rustling the leaves around him as well as the shuffling of dirt beneath his feet. But as he concentrated more he could hear the sound of a rushing river that he determined to be exactly 1.4 miles away.
Instinctively the young man increased his pace, he couldn't remember how he could hear things that were too far away for any man to hear. He felt that he should know, that the answer waited for him in the shadows. The heavy black boots that he wore moved remarkably fast, seemingly almost to fast for any human or animal for that matter. What was he doing here, and what was he looking for. Sweat started to bead down his handsome features as the humidity made his fatigues cling closely to his body. He looked down at the uniform hoping that it would give him some kind of idea of who he was, but he only found a crimson and white emblem emblazed on the hunter green fatigues that he wore. The emblem looked like an umbrella with the interchanging colors of crimson and white on the patterns.
What was the pattern that seemed so familiar to him, again the answers to all his questions seemed to be in the darkness of his mind. A heavy fog fell instantly engulfing his body, instinctively he slashed at the fog with his combat knife expecting the unknown enemy to be the cause of the dense fog. A low growl began to emit itself from all around him, although he heard the river from almost two miles away, he couldn't pin point where the sound was coming from. Without warning, the young man felt something heavy on his back. Something that was clawing at him with razor sharp claws, and digging it's teeth into the man's warm flesh. His knees buckled below him with the thing still on his back, a waiting pool of scarlet blood waiting for him to crumple into it.
Pierre Dupree silently ran his pale white hand through his sweat soaked blonde hair as he awoke to find himself laying in the hard bed that sufficed for his bunk. Doctor Jennings, Umbrella's top researcher, had said that night terrors would be one of the many side effects that the injection of the T-Virus would have on him, but Pierre couldn't help but think that the night terrors were just another one of Lord Spencer's psychological tests. Each night he had the same dream, every night seeming more real than the night before. It seemed as though his hard bed had not sat in the small steel room but instead sat in a humid jungle.
Pierre thought it strange that he could never remember in his dream that he had been enhanced by Lord Spencer by using the T-Virus. And what did the jungle have to do with Umbrella. Pierre quickly shook his heads, trying to dislodge the answerless questions from his head. It wasn't becoming of a soldier to question his superiors as to why he was having night terrors. He had let his emotions overcome him once, and it had cost him his two partners. Before he could finish his though a sharp beeping noise erupted from the intercom beside his bunk. He quickly tapped the large circular button on the side of the intercom causing a calm voice to flow from the speaker.
"Dupree, your presence is requested by Lord Spencer in his office ASAP," a womanly voice commanded from the green intercom.
"I'll be there in five minutes," Pierre responded quickly as he let go of the large button.
Pierre's ice blue eyes quickly adjusted to the pitch black room making it seem as though the room was completely lit. He quickly spotted his combat green fatigues laying on the cold steel desk of his barracks. The fatigues were emblazed with the internationally known scarlet and white Umbrella insignia. He silently pulled his muscular white body out of the sweat stained sheets and onto the cold floor. He quickly pulled on the hunter green fatigues and laced up his ebony combat boots before he reached for his beret that he had placed on the bottom of his bed. The pure black beret was emblazed with a silver cobra that looked as though it was ready to attack. The silver cobra meant that he was Lord Spencer's "war dog", or right hand man. Pierre silently ran his rough fingers over the cobra before placing it over his ash blonde hair and stepping out of the undecorated steel room.
Pierre's small room had been placed close to Lord Spencer's office as soon as he had been named Lord Spencer's war dog. Which meant that Pierre was always at Spencer's beckoning call. The small stretch of dimly lit corridor in the vast building that separated him from Spencer was filled with the bustling movement of scientists in starch white lab coats scurrying around with stacks of papers since the labs were located under them and the entrance ways were in the corridor. Most of scientists with blood shot eyes seemingly didn't even notice the 6'2 194 pound soldier dressed in combat fatigues, but the ones who did quickly tried to cover up the shock of seeing an actual war dog. Once you were appointed War Dog everyone was supposed to cower at your very sight, since one of the War Dog's duties to Lord Spencer was to punish the people that he saw as unfit to work for Umbrella.
Pierre quickly reached the large polished oak door that marked the entrance way to Lord Spencer's office which was guarded by two men that were dressed in dark business suits. Why Spencer had insisted on having those grunts guard the entrance instead of two of Umbrella's soldiers was beyond him. Since the two men in business suits looked as though they belonged in a meeting instead of guarding Lord Spencer. At seeing his presence the two young men immediately stepped aside and opened the door for him. The least Spencer could have done was get some veteran grunts Pierre thought as he stepped into the tastefully decorated office.
The soft crimson carpet crunched under Pierre's strong frame as he stepped across the room to the sturdy oak desk that Lord Spencer sat behind. The oak walls were peppered with various paintings of Umbrella testing sights as well as former investors of Umbrella. A large bookshelf, overflowing with books on molecular biology, covered the wall on the left side. But the oak desk was by far the centerpiece of the office. The desk was easily nine feet long and three feet wide and was adorned with a small laptop, but no personal effects. Behind the desk towered a large decorative window that looked over the Narcissist Mountains.
"Sit Down, Pierre," a deep voice commanded from behind the desk.
Without hesitation Pierre immediately sat his large frame down into the awaiting crimson chair that faced the desk directly.
"There has been talk of a company rising to challenge us soon. A company coincidentally called Rainy Day. This company is not competing with us pharmaceutically, but plan on challenging our biological weaponry division or "White Umbrella" branch. I need you to gather a team up, and attack this corporation before it grows to challenge us," Lord Spencer explained coolly.
"Sir, I beg to differ with you on this matter. There is no reason for us to bother with this small company. There is no way that they can challenge our power especially that of White Umbrella," Pierre replied confidently.
"Last time I checked it was I that was your superior and not vice versa," Lord Spencer said coldly as he stared at the rising sun over the Narcissist Mountains.
"Sorry my Lord, I meant nothing of it. I will immediately assemble the team," Pierre replied embarrassedly as he rose out of his chair.
Pierre hated the thought of having to rely on someone else, especially a whole team of other people. Even though he would be in charge of the team, he would still have to trust the others. One of the golden rules that Umbrella had taught him was that you should never do something that you could not do on your own. Pierre found himself feeling extremely short tempered as he walked down the short corridor that would lead him to the elevator. Lord Spencer had wasted no time reminding him that he was still beneath his will. Without hesitation Pierre raised that stainless steel combat knife that he always carried in his boot and threw it. The glistening scarlet of blood dripped down the decorative knife as the scientist that it had pinned against the wall by his neck slid down the wall into a crumpled heap. The man's short gray hair lay against the cool white tile of the corridor as the scientists colleagues didn't dare stop to see if he was still alive. Of course they shouldn't have had to even wonder, Pierre never missed a shot and never left anyone alive when he decided to kill them. Another one of Umbrella's golden rules popped into his head, If you can't do it with one shot don't do it at all. Now, he would be able to find the teammates he needed since he had vented some of his anger.