75

Wesker walked to the edge of the roof and looked out across all of Raccoon City. The chilly autumn wind ruffled his jacket and hair, and quickly blew the smoke from his cigarette away. It was early evening, not quite late, but the sky was still dark. Below him, millions of lights glowed. Car head lights and tail lights, street lights, bright windows, too many glowing spots to keep track of. The city was still very much alive.

Wesker took the cigarette from his mouth and flipped it out into the night. It was almost time now. He glanced back at the helicopter, blades rotating slowly, engine idling. Brad was already strapped in the pilot's seat, anxious to get going. Barry was beside him in the co-pilot's seat, adjusting his helmet microphone. Chris came out of the station through the roof exit, a black duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He trotted over to the chopper, nodding at Wesker, and boarded.

Wesker casually walked around the side of the helicopter so that none of the people aboard could see him. He lit another cigarette and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed the number again.

"Yes?" the man with the Russian accent answered.

"You're in position?"

"Yes, for most of day."

"We're leaving here in a few minutes. The targets are in the house?"

"Yes. The large man left for work some time ago, but wife and girls are still here."

"Go ahead then. Don't get ahead of yourself, though. I'll call you again in an hour or two. Keep them alive until I tell you different."

"I will. But wife is very pretty and I lack self-control, yes?"

"I'm sure you can hold on until I call."

The man laughed. "You lack sense of humor, Mister Wesker. Talk to you again real soon."

Wesker snapped the phone shut. He hated keeping that man around, but would require his services longer than anticipated. Hopefully, when everything was complete, Wesker could give the Russian his final payment by way of a bullet to the head. He would probably have to, because he was obviously only as loyal as long as the money kept coming. Wesker was buying his assistance for over a hundred-thousand dollars from an Umbrella bank account. The same bank account Chief Irons' payments had been taken from.

Jill and Joseph appeared at the door, hauling more duffel bags. Wesker tossed away his cigarette and ran over to help them carry the equipment to the chopper. Brad must have seen them, because the blades began to pick up speed, battering them with wind.

"Did you have any problems with acquisitions?" Wesker asked.

Jill just shook her head. "They know what we're about to do. They gave me everything I asked for."

"You asked for quite a lot."

"Well, you told me to be creative."

They stashed the duffel bags in the helicopter's rear cargo compartment and climbed inside. Jill and Joseph sat down in the rear seats and buckled themselves in. Wesker got inside and slid the door closed. He leaned into the pilot's cab and yelled in Brad's ear over the growing roar of the spinning blades.

"Okay, let's go!"

He sat down beside Chris, facing Jill and Joseph, and buckled himself in. As he put on a flight helmet, the helicopter rose into the air and drifted away from the building.

"Brad, you've got the transponder locked?" he said into the mike.

"Yes," came Brad's reply.

"Get there as fact as you can. Let me know when we're a mile out."

"Sure thing."

Wesker sat back and sighed, mentally preparing himself for the mission ahead. Around him, the other members of Alpha team did the same thing, but Wesker was aided by the knowledge of what they were getting into. The others only knew that they were headed to what they thought was a secret government location, giving them ideas about something similar to Area 51. They were probably thinking about underground bunkers and secret biological laboratories. Wesker thought it was funny that in reality, their guesses were not too far off the mark.

The plan was for Brad to land the helicopter close to the mansion, regardless of where Bravo's helicopter was. All of them would leave the chopper and enter the mansion. Wesker would then take a moment to sabotage the chopper to prevent it from leaving, and then make his way back to his lab to watch things unfold on the security cameras.

Of course, there was still the matter of the surviving Bravo members. Enrico was still running around in the Gamma and Delta labs somewhere. Edward had not been seen in hours, but there was still the possibility that he was alive and hiding.

And once again, the surprisingly talented Rebecca. Most of the remaining cameras in the upper levels of the water treatment plant had gone blank early in the afternoon, and not long afterward, Wesker had noticed smoke in the sky. It scared him at first, because if anyone else noticed the smoke, they might call the fire department or something. Thankfully, the treatment plant was far enough in the forest for anyone to see it, and the wind was strong enough to scatter the smoke before it attracted attention. Exactly what happened was irrelevant as long as no one saw the smoke.

Cameras had spotted Rebecca sometime later, walking along the old dirt road to the scenic outlook above the Gamma Lab. Her partner was gone, so Wesker figured he was dead. The last Wesker had checked, Rebecca had made it all the way to the outlook. He wasn't sure where she was now.

A certain resurrected mystery man was also currently missing, but Wesker was not optimistic enough to believe for a second that he was dead. He had probably followed Rebecca and her partner to the treatment plant, and with the plant's likely destruction early that morning, Wesker was tempted to think that maybe he burned up with the rest of it, but Wesker didn't think he was going to be that lucky. The mystery man was probably still lurking around the treatment plant or the surrounding area, but what he was up to or what he was planning, Wesker couldn't even hazard a guess. He would worry about it later.

No one said anything in the chopper. Usually, he could rely on Joseph to make a bizarre joke or two to keep the mood light, or on Barry to give the team some helpful advice. But not this time. The mission was too important, the unknown fate of Bravo team too much to think about. And the argument in the command center had killed the mood pretty effectively. Wesker rarely lost his temper, and the fact that he had blown up at Barry put everyone on edge. Which had kind of been the point.

He wanted Barry to be angry at him. When the time came, it would make betraying him easier.

He could not help but make guesses about Alpha team's chances of survival. His own guesses about Bravo had been half right. He had expected Enrico to outlast them all, but then again, he had expected Rebecca to freak out and get herself killed pretty early on.

As for Alpha team, he expected that Brad and Joseph would be the first to go. Brad was a coward at heart and everyone knew it, and in a dangerous situation he could always be relied on to panic and make things worse. Joseph was almost the opposite; he had a habit of running in head first without thinking things through. In this situation, that would get him killed pretty quick.

Jill was a competent officer, but she had no stomach for this kind of thing. She might be able to hold herself together for a little while, but eventually she would probably have some kind of nervous breakdown and wind up cowering in a corner like Kenneth. Which would be a shame, because he kind of liked Jill.

In a normal situation, Barry would be the last one left. Like Enrico, he was smart and tough and stubborn. But Wesker had already predicted his future, and it ended badly. He would not live to see tomorrow.

That left Chris, the most naturally talented member of Alpha team. Except for Wesker himself, of course. Chris was definitely the officer most capable of making it through the mansion alive. He was smart and brave like Barry, but he was also clever and resourceful and even his most daring ideas were laced with caution. Wesker believed that Chris could have succeeded at any level of law enforcement if he wanted to. He could have been an undercover cop, a detective, a S.W.A.T. officer, or even a forensics investigator if he felt the urge to do so. He had joined S.T.A.R.S. probably because he felt it was the most difficult assignment. Wesker would be sorry to see him go, but it would be entertaining to see how far he made it.

Brad's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Wesker, we're a mile from the target."

"Okay," Wesker said, speaking to everyone. "Let's get ready."