Before the Storm
For the surviving members of the RPD expedition sent into the Arklay Forest to root out a group of ritual cannibals, the nightmare is finally over.
To Chris Redfield, it means a return to Raccoon City, where his recent field promotion, after the death of his former captain (the treacherous Albert Wesker, slaughtered by the Umbrella monsters he'd sought to exploit), will likely become permanent.
For Jill Valentine, it means a more lonely life. Her boyfriend, Edward Dewey, has been killed in action two nights earlier, and she hasn't even gotten to see his body. The scars of her loss have only just formed, and haven't had time to fade.
In contrast, Barry Burton gets to go home to the family he'd risked everything for. He intends to hold onto his loved ones tightly, and never let go.
For Rebecca Chambers, sole survivor of STARS Bravo team, it means she's survived two nights that have tested both her skills and faith. She's faced unimaginable horrors, but has made it through. Now she plans to return to Raccoon City, take off her uniform, and never put it back on.
For Mat Dawson, a member of the RPD's SWAT team attached to STARS temporarily, it gives him a strange feeling, as he's been a part of something he was never meant to witness. After so many near brushes with death, he vows now to make the most of his life, since so many of his friends have lost theirs.
The survivors all react differently to their escape; each acts according to his or her own priorities. But they are all alike in one thing.
All of them assume the nightmare is over…
Chapter 1: Homecoming
(BRAD)
There were people waiting on the roof of the RPD building as Brad slowly guided the Aérospatiale/Eurocopter AS350B police helicopter onto the rooftop helipad. Two were wearing paramedic uniforms; both also had medical bags. Brad was glad to see them; the rookie from Bravo team, Chambers, was in pretty bad shape, and he'd been worried she wouldn't survive the long flight back.
The paramedics made sense, though. Alpha team had been sent in to recover members of Bravo team after their helicopter crashed in the forest. Logically, there would be injuries to treat.
But there was another, stranger sight. Standing in full gear, complete with flak vests, riot helmets, and assault rifles, were a contingent of the RPD's SWAT units. A little ahead of them, arms folded across his chest, was Captain Peyton Welles. Brad shivered, remembering how the SWAT commander had bawled out members of Alpha team in absence of having Captain Marini or Captain Wesker on hand. Brad had thought Welles was mad then. Now he realized his error.
He could feel the anger radiating off the large black man from twenty feet above the helipad. He hoped whatever bile Welles wanted to spew; none of it was reserved for Alpha team's pilot. After all, Brad knew he hadn't done anything wrong. But he'd learned long ago that one didn't always need to deserve a loud reprimand from a superior in order to receive it.
The second oddity was the sharply dressed blonde woman standing next to the medics. She wore a dark red jumpsuit and had a small laptop under her arm. A reporter? Brad wondered. What's she doing here?
Then he noticed the third odd member of their welcome wagon. Standing apart from the other officers, hands clasped firmly behind his back, further accenting his barrel-like profile, was Chief Brian Irons himself. While Welles looked ready to breathe fire and rip new assholes, Irons had always tended more toward cold fury. Standing just behind and to Irons' left was his personal secretary, the little mousy girl named Waverly. She looked terrified to be so close to her obviously seething superior, but, like Brad, she didn't have any choice. Like the Alpha team pilot, she'd just have to do her job and hope too much shit didn't roll downhill onto her.
Beside Brad, in the co-pilot's seat, Barry Burton made a face. "Looks like they won't be rolling out the red carpet" he said grimly. Brad didn't reply; Barry had taken the words out of his mouth.
"Well folks," he said over the chopper's personnel compartment speakers, "we're home." A second later, the helicopter's skids touched the RPD building's roof, and he let out a sigh of relief. After a long, terrifying night of helplessly circling the forest searching for his team (Brad chose to forget the fact that he'd stranded them in the first place), it was finally over.
Brad killed the chopper's engines. Before the large, dangerous blades over the troop compartment had stopped spinning, the doors were sliding open. Brad unharnessed himself, then waited with Barry for their turn to exit the chopper.
The first person out of the chopper was Jill Valentine. She turned around immediately and helped Dawson, the kid from SWAT, as he supported the rookie out of the bird. Chambers was a little unsteady on her feet. Brad was amazed she was still conscious.
"We need medical help for this one!" Jill shouted to the medics, pointing at Chambers. The white clad med immediately hurried forward.
One pulled a collapsible stretcher off his back and opened it, setting it down on the roof. Chambers shook her head, protesting that she was fine, but a moment later she almost collapsed, and was finally persuaded to lie down. The two medics hurried off, carrying the STARS medic into the precinct.
Dawson started to follow, only to be stopped by Welles.
"Just a moment, Dawson, if you don't mind" the SWAT captain said, his voice thick with fake politeness.
"Sorry sir, I'm just worried-"
"Look at me, Dawson" Welles said, his voice growing dangerously quiet. "Look into my eyes and tell me I look like a man who gives a rat's flying shit how you feel right now. I want you stay here until I'm finished with you and your…friends here. If you're lucky, you'll still be with the force when I'm finished with you."
Dawson's face twitched slightly, which must've hurt given his apparently brand new facial scar. "Yes sir!"
Barry stepped forward, toward Welles. "Peyton, the kid's been through a lot. Cut him a little-"
"Don't talk to me like you have any right to tell me what to do, Burton" Welles spat. "You STARS assholes have fucked me over for the last time." He paused, looking over the chopper. "Speaking of assholes, where's that useless captain of yours, or Marini? I'd like to have a word with them."
"Wesker's dead" Chris said, stepping out of the chopper, Brad following a moment later. "Enrico didn't make it either. Aside from Rebecca, none of Bravo team did."
Welles nodded. "And I guess that makes you the highest ranking member of STARS here. Well, I have something for you." Then, without warning, he slammed his fist into Chris's face.
Brad flinched as the STARS marksman staggered back. That looked like it hurt.
Dawson made a move toward his superior, but Jill grabbed his arm. Barry turned toward Chief Irons, who so far hadn't said a word.
"What the hell, Chief? You saw that!"
Irons blinked in mock surprise, a cold smile spreading across his face. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about." He looked over at the SWAT team Welles had brought with him. "What about you fine gentlemen?"
"No, sir!" the SWAT men chorused in well rehearsed unison.
Irons smiled. "See? You must be hallucinating due to fatigue. Which brings me to our next order of business.
"All members of STARS Alpha and Bravo teams are hereby suspended. You can turn your weapons over to these nice people from SWAT Gamma team." He smiled thinly, looking at Brad. "And that includes that blasted rocket launcher your captain insisted we purchase last month. Maybe we can sell it, and those marvelous custom handguns of yours, to recoup our losses from this catastrophe."
The SWAT team stepped forward, two stepping past Brad and into the chopper. Another held out a hand toward him. Brad stared at him blankly for a moment, then realized he was after Brad's Samurai Edge.
"Just a minute" said Barry. "You've got a right to the launcher. But the Samurai Edges are gifts from Kendo Gunsmith to the individual STARS members. They belong to us, not the RPD."
Brad removed his hand from the handgun's holster, glaring at the SWAT officer when he started to reach for it. If the handgun was really his, if Barry wasn't just blowing smoke, then there was no reason to give it up.
Irons made a face, then waved to the SWAT officers. "He's right. And judging by the fact that they aren't with you, I assume both Dewey, Aiken, and Frost met their untimely ends along with Bravo team and Wesker?"
Barry nodded.
Irons sighed. "Well, I guess we'll just have to take what we can get." He pointed to Dawson. "He's suspended as well. Take his weapons and put them with whatever you pull out of the chopper." He pointed at Chris. "And that's Aiken's shotgun. We'll be needing it as well."
Brad watched as Dawson handed over his pistol to the SWAT officer, who shoved it into his waistband. Then the riot cop extended his hand again, looking expectantly at the submachine gun on Dawson's back.
"I'm gonna need that too, Dawson" he said, eagerness in his voice.
"Fuck off, Guthrie. I bought this with my own money. It's mine. Go ask Lieutenant Mathison if you don't believe me."
Guthrie snorted. "I know. But you're on suspension, and you don't have a civilian permit for an automatic weapon. So…" His voice trailed off, an expectant gleam in his eyes.
Muttering irritably, Dawson unslung his weapon and handed it over. "If I find a scratch-"
"Oh, don't worry" Guthrie smiled. "I'll take good care of this for you. Trust me."
Another SWAT officer stepped toward Barry. "As per City Ordnance 18232 B, I'm going to have to take your magnum."
Barry made a face. "But, I built this gun myself."
The SWAT nodded, patiently. "Yeah, Barry, I know. And I'm sorry, but you can't own a .44 like that as a civilian. So you're gonna have to hand it over."
Barry sighed, then pulled the chromed revolver out of its chest holster and handed it over. The SWAT took it gingerly, then tucked it into his vest. "I promise I won't let anything happen to it."
"You'd better not, Aaron" Barry growled. "And I count my bullets. They better all be there when I get it back." He sent a deadly look at Irons. "Because one way or another, I will."
Irons smiled. "I wouldn't get my hopes up for that happening anytime soon. You're all traumatized by the losses of your teammates. I think you all need a little time off to recover. Then, I'll take statements on the tragic circumstances that have claimed over half of STARS's manpower." He looked over at the blonde reporter. "That's what I want Raccoon Press to say tomorrow. Understood?"
The reporter made a face. "That's bull-"
"Remember our deal?" Irons asked. "You can print the story as I see fit, or I'll simply find someone else to give exclusives to. And I know how much you don't want that, correct?"
The reporter sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Anything else?"
Irons shook his head. "No. You're free to leave, Ms. Ashcroft."
The reporter sent a final scowl Irons' way, then turned and stalked away. The police chief's eyes followed her down the stairs before turning back to the disarmed police officers.
"Why don't you all go home? Get some sleep; I'm sure you could use it. And who knows? I may yet reinstate you." He smiled coldly. "But don't get your hopes up."
They filed down the stairs to the RPD's parking lot, Brad's mind a mess of confusion. What the hell just happened? Why was he essentially told to fuck off and die?
Chris waited until the reached the bottom of the stairs, then turned to face the others. "What are your plans?"
"I'm gonna go home" Barry said. "I need to talk to Kathy…"
"I for one am gonna take a shower" Jill announced.
Brad nodded. "That sounds good to me, too."
"I'm going to go check on Rebecca. I'll go home once she does" Dawson said.
Chris nodded. "Sounds good. I recommend we all get some sleep. Then, tonight, I want us all to meet at Emmy's diner. Everyone know where that is?"
Emmy's was a low-end dive toward the edge of town, by the interstate. It had showed up on one of those stupid cable travel shows, though, and despite its horrible food had become a local landmark. Brad nodded along with the others.
"Good" said Chris. "Let's meet up there, let's say around eight. Then we can discuss our next move."