I do not own [PROTOTYPE] or Resident Evil and I make no money from this fanfiction.


Chapter 2: Containment


Gentek Research Facility. 17/5/10

Chris ducked the swiping claw, rolling in a bid for some room. Over his head, he heard the very air being sliced by four lethal talons. As soon as he got to his feet he kept moving forward at a sprint. He heard heavy footfalls behind him, as the monster quickly made ground. Chris tried to ignore the impending death, and focused on reaching the console twenty feet ahead. The cavernous room he was in resembled a massive hanger, though curiously it was empty. That is, if you didn't count the dozens of cages that made up the walls. Made of reinforced titanium and clean shatter-proof glass, these cells contained mutated freaks created from every virus that a mad scientist could dream of. And the button to release them was already prepped, it only required pushing. He heard a swooshing of air behind him, and instinctively dived out of the way, rolling once again to keep his momentum. At his side, a monstrously long, thick rope of dark bio-matter twisting through the air where he'd been standing a moment ago. At the end of it was a single blade that proved its use when it punched a hole into one of the cages. It retracted back to its owner, and Chris increased his pace. Finally reaching the terminal, he slammed a finger onto the ENTER button, confirming a query on the screen. As soon as he had done so, he felt a hand push into his back, grabbing a handful of his shirt and effortlessly lifting him up and throwing him back into the ground like a doll. Chris saw a snarling visage of rage and once again knew that now there was no way to escape…


Washington DC. 12/5/10

Allison sighed. For perhaps the fiftieth time that day she said in a monotonous voice. "I'm sorry, but until the virus is contained, we can't let you out of the quarantine zone." That tired phrase, one that she absolutely hated uttering always had a different reaction among the many refugees that streamed out of the city. A family stood before her, a mother, a father and an eight year old boy. Tears streamed out of all their eyes.

The father snarled at her in anger. "You bitch! How can you make us stay in this hellhole? How can you let my son die here?"

She ignored this, merely repeating the message, however she tensed imperceptibly, her finger hovering over the trigger of her rifle. She doubted the man would fire on her, but the apocalypse brought out the worst in everyone. "Sir, please return to the city, we'll be sending troops and supplies in within a day. Please return now or we will be forced to open fire." As if on cue, the soldiers patrolling the wall behind her stopped and readied their firearms. When the family wandered away, she sighed again in both relief and sadness. Since the quarantine had been established by the Army Rangers there had been a steady trickle of displaced civilians and the occasional ghouls that followed them – the zombies were dispatched easily, but some of the civvies would refuse to turn back. These citizens were usually armed – how else would they have made it through the infested city? – and would fire at the guards, making one last, desperate bid for freedom. They were quickly riddled with bullets by the military soldiers. The quarantine was a circle all around the city, made of the entire US Armed Forces – Marines, Rangers, Air Force, even the SEALS. Allison was part of the Rangers. She'd joined up a year ago, but she'd never been in such a strange operation. She even preferred it when the Russians had attacked a few years ago; she'd been one of the Rangers fighting to reclaim the White House after the nuke went off. That had been her first mission and the entire squad had been killed, but at least they had been fighting a force they understood, something they were trained to battle. The walking cadavers that roamed the city were things that couldn't be understood or explained. They weren't human and every rule she'd learnt in training was null. Whenever one appeared a hail of bullets would rip it in half, despite the orders to 'shoot the head'.

She was interrupted from her musing by a call from one of her squad mates, a dark haired corporal named Dunn. "Hey Allison, hustle up, we're due for a briefing. Some real cloak and dagger types, and from what I heard the Marines saying they're not good news."

She nodded in reply, getting up and groaning. "Those Marines will bitch about anything. Since they screwed the pooch in Manhattan they've been whining like little girls." Dunn barked his laughter at her grumbling. Though all the military branches served the same goal a certain rivalry existed between them. Leaving the wire walls of the quarantine zone behind and heading through the gates, they headed back to the ops centre – a hastily erected tent the size of a small house, with guards posted around the entrance and containing the brains behind the operation. The military compound was a bustling hive of activity, soldiers moving to and fro, engineers preparing tanks and other humvees. Sergeants barked orders at the enlisted ranks and mess halls were filled with chattering troops. Finally the two reached the ops centre.

As they passed the guards, Allison noted that their military uniforms were pitch black, and that their faces were obscured by compact gas masks and blue lenses. She couldn't spot any emblems that revealed their affiliations, and their features were entirely hidden. Allison hypothesized they were probably employed by some shadowy spooks. Inside the tent, the two Rangers found the rest of their squad, as well as many other units in the middle of the briefing. They all sat assembled before a silver haired man – probably in his fifties – that wore the same uniform as the guards outside, except that he had opted to not wear the mask. At his sides were more of those black ops soldiers, with the exception of a man and a woman in casual, tan uniforms that had the BSAA insignia. Allison noted that both looked slightly uncomfortable beside the guards. As the two took their place besides their Sergeant – named Foley – and a fellow Corporal named Ramirez, the man before them was saying. "- the virus currently infecting this city has been identified as the T-Virus. Now, some of you may remember the incident at Raccoon City a few years ago. That was the same virus, it managed to spread so much and become so uncontrollable that the entire city was neutralized. Hopefully that won't be the case here, but that's up to all of you unlucky bastards. On the plus side, we are not sending you in without intel. We know how this virus works and how to take out the infected. For that reason, we have a survivor from the Raccoon City Incident here."

The woman stepped forward into the light, and Allison noted that she had long, brunette hair beneath a cap, a fit build befitting a soldier and a beautiful face. "My name is Jill Valentine and I'm going to tell you how to survive."


The streets were in complete pandemonium. The sound of bloodcurdling screams competing with an eerie moaning. Shuffling shapes staggered around, searching out any prey. Their victims were the surviving citizens of Washington, people that sprinted around in a desperate bid for an escape. It was futile, the infected in the streets far outnumbering the survivors. As soon as one survivor got into reach they were snagged by cold, clutching hands. Immediately an entire swarm of walking cadavers would descend upon the unfortunate citizen, ripping into them with dull, bloodstained teeth. The screams would go higher and higher in volume and then cut off at the crescendo.

Those people that stayed in their homes only prolonged the inevitable. The ghouls searched patiently for any living person, going through home after home in random pattern. Those that fortified were faced with a siege of undead, wherein an increasingly large number of zombies would gather around an entrance, beating against it until it would give way. They would then swarm in, looking for anybody that could be devoured.

In one of the police stations, one such siege was taking place. Hundreds of zombies were gathered around the building, whilst out of the windows above the ground floor guns boomed. Few of the shots missed their marks, or simply hit the zombies harmlessly in their chests. Inside the building, dozens of police officers either took pot shots at the assembled crowd outside or sat around, rationing food and water, or simply waiting around for the eventual military rescuers. There were even a handful of civilians that were engaged in the latter option, the exception being a man taking pictures on his camera. When queried about the suitability of the practice given the situation, he'd simply responded that he'd, 'Covered wars before'.

One of the police, a petite female medic who was busy cleaning another officer's wounds gave a relieved sigh. "Don't worry, Troy. No bites at all. You'll be fine." 'That is, aside from the dozen cuts along your arms and face, and the massive slash across your side that's leaking more blood than a hose leaks water.'

Troy tried to be as charming as possible whilst speaking through gritted teeth. "Rebecca, you are an angel. Thanks."

The medic simply grinned. Pushing her brown hair out of her eyes she responded. "You won't be saying that when I start stitching this up, especially because we ran out of morphine. Seriously, couldn't you have opened the window before jumping through it? Glass shards slice deeply."

"Ran out of morphine? Just bloody great. I'll bet you my month's salary that John Citizen's been using it for kicks. OW!" Troy yelped as Rebecca began to stitch a long cut at his side. The next five minutes were filled with yelps and whimpers from the wounded officer.

"Great work, Troy, you're taking it like a champ." Rebecca encouraged. 'This guy handles pain worse than a five year old girl.'

"And we're all done here." She said triumphantly and quickly bandaged the wound. "Now just don't move around too much, or you'll tear your stitches."

"Thank you, 'Becca." Troy said wearily, sweat beading his brow. Before his eyes closed a sly smile appeared on his face. "Heh, now that you've seen me with my shirt off, maybe you should return the favour."

"Keep dreaming." Rebecca muttered, wiping the perspiration from her face.

"Officer Chambers!" Rebecca looked around to see who was calling her. Spotting the self appointed leader of the surviving officers she gathered her medical supplies, left the sleeping officer on the ground and approached the speaker, a tall, dark skinned man in a suit. "Special Agent Hendrickson, is something wrong?"

"We've got a situation. Follow me." He said and briskly set off at a half run. "You five! Come on!" he yelled at a group of officers that were standing around, chatting. Rebecca followed a little reluctantly. Victor Hendrickson was an agent for the FBI, and had arrived a week ago to arrest two psychotic brothers that he'd been chasing for months. He'd failed, and had been about to leave when the outbreak occurred. After the Police Chief had been killed by the undead assailants, he had stepped in to lead the surviving members of the Washington Police Department. His first act was to personally identify Rebecca Chambers and ask her for every little bit of information on their enemies – when she asked how he knew to question her, he had confided that one of his first assignments with the FBI was to write a report on the STARS team in the Mansion Incident. He confessed to calling them insane – and after processing everything she told him about the walking corpses outside he had ordered everyone checked for possible infection. Once every infected person was dealt with, the rest had to take everything of use up to the second floor. He then had all destructible stairs demolished to be replaced with ladders, and those that couldn't be destroyed were barricaded by all manner of objects. One concrete staircase had been lubricated by oil, so that any zombie that tried to make its way up would be sent crashing down. He had posted numerous snipers at the windows, these sharpshooters were armed with hunting rifles and were ordered to take out as many ghouls as possible. Thanks to an overstocked armoury, as well as a recent raid on a nearby gun store, all the officers had enough ammunition to last months of sparing use. 'A real cold character,' Rebecca mused. 'Smart, practical, brilliant, but impersonal and all business.' She remembered the five people he had executed upon discovering their infection. Their faces were horrified, some had pleaded, others had cursed, two had agreed with what should happen to prevent their transformation. Chambers was shaken from her musing when they reached the windows and the situation. Snipers fired out the windows in panic, their shoulder sticking out into the night and they moved their rifles to and fro with jerky, erratic movements. The other officers that had been called by Hendrickson exclaimed in fright. "Those things can't climb! Can they?"

"What the hell's going on here?" Rebecca yelled. In that instant her question was answered immediately. One of the snipers fired with his rifle, hitting something that responded with a howl. The sniper gave a yell of triumph. "YES! I can't believe I hit it! YEAH! I – AAARRRGGGHH!" Perhaps he had spoken to soon, because at that moment a long, barbed tongue shot through the window and impaled the sniper in the shoulder. The tongue quickly withdrew, dragging the screaming officer with it.

"Officer Chambers, what are these things?" Hendrickson calmly asked, withdrawing a .45 from a hidden holster within his jacket.

"Lickers! Keep away from the windows, they can clamber all over the walls and they move fast. They can also shoot their tongues out far, keep your distance." Rebecca warned, chambering around in her customized Samurai Edge, issued to her fifteen years ago. "Also, try to get 'em in the head."

Hendrickson nodded in his unfazed way. "You heard the lady. Everyone get to the right side of the room. Cover the windows, as soon as those things jump in we'll fill them with lead."

The officer rushed towards the designated position, taking cover as they had been trained to. A tense minute passed. Rebecca, near the back of the formation, felt sweat trickling down her back. Another minute passed and the handgun was growing heavy in Rebecca's hands. Fifteen seconds passed and the medic's fingers began to twitch. Another five seconds passed. The moaning of the zombies outside became extremely apparent and grating.

"AAAAAHHHHHH! COME ON YOU RAT BASTARDS!"

Rebecca almost fired out of shock. One of the officers, an unhinged cop that had finally snapped under the pressure, had run down the corridor, screaming and brandishing a shotgun. As he aimed out a window still shrieking and cursing, he was instantly tackled back onto the floor by a crimson blur. Within seconds, the entire corridor was filled with clawed creatures, crawling across the walls, ceiling and floor. In an instant, Rebecca recognized that oversized and exposed brain, lashing tongue and skinless body. The shrieking of the creatures drowned out all other sound, and many of the officers were stunned by the sudden appearance of such monstrosities. Gunshots boomed next to Rebecca's head and served to not only send a Licker sprawling, but acted as an alarm clock to the dazed officers. It had been Hendrickson who had shot first, and he continued to fire upon the beasts. The volley from the police officers sent Licker's falling to the ground, their twitching corpses littering the room and their dying howls serving to rally the cops. However, from the windows more of the creatures poured, rapidly gaining ground as they all struggled to reach the officers before being brought down. It was a race; could the creatures be exterminated before they reached the police? Two of the cops began to reload, and the creatures gained an extra few metres.

"Come on! Give them all you've got!" Hendrickson yelled. The creatures were a mere five metres away and one sent its harpoon-like tongue at the nearest officer. The tongue lanced into his chest, and the Licker lunged towards its dying prey. It was blasted off his body immediately via shotgun at close range. Rebecca fired in short bursts, taking out Lickers with rapid head shots. Another Licker fired its tongue out like a chameleon, this time it took out the officer next to Rebecca. As it reeled itself in, Rebecca made a miraculous shot at the speeding target. Its exposed brain was sent out the back of its head. Another Licker made its way down the corridor. Despite the fact that it didn't have eyes, Rebecca somehow knew that it was aiming right at her. She sighted down the barrel of her gun, aimed carefully for its head, and then squeezed the trigger.

~click~

The handgun was empty. "Shit!" Rebecca cursed. The Licker sensed the lowering of the weapon and leapt immediately, claws outstretched and jaws gaping. Rebecca couldn't dodge anywhere, there was no room. Everyone else was shooting other Lickers. There was nothing she could do but die.

The Licker seemed to take a crystal clear clarity as it was a mere foot away from the officer. An explosion sounded beside Chambers. The Licker was blasted straight back, its head practically disintegrated. Rebecca looked to the source of the explosion, and saw Hendrickson, clutching a shotgun and still looking relaxed. She gave him a nod in appreciation and swiftly reloaded. The siege was still taking place.


It had quickly been settled. Each squad would fall under the orders of BSAA specialists, and the BSAA would fall under the orders of that shadowy unit. They would make their way into the infected city, setting up military bases and safe zones in places where the infection was eradicated. Helicopters had already been sent in to scout and take out large crowds of zombies wherever they could, this would make the eventual reclaiming of the city easier for the troops. Charlie Squad had been assigned to the command of BSAA Agent Jill Valentine, and they all reported to 1st Lieutenant Armitage who had chosen to accompany Alpha Squad. The two were completely different. Valentine was friendly, actively asking questions and conversing with the soldiers. She gave them tips on fighting the creatures spawned by the T-Virus and what might be lurking in the city. Armitage on the other hand was cold. He didn't speak unless it was to give an order, he only ever chatted with other members of his organization. Allison could detect disdain in his attitude, towards the Rangers and the BSAA Agent. He never took off his goggles and gas mask, and there were always weapons on his combat harness. He sat apart from the others, staring into the distance and preparing his equipment. Charlie Squad was glad he'd be with Redfield and his team.

"I wonder what we're getting into." Dunn sat beside her his eyes possessing a faraway look. "All our lives we've been training to fight against terrorists, rebels, you know, other human beings. This is different."

"It's the same thing, Dunn." Allison noted. "We're trained to protect our country and its people from threats. That includes these...things."

"I guess." Dunn admitted, sounding depressed. He gave a ghost of a smile. "Is it just me, or has Uncle Sam been going through a rough patch in the past few years? I mean, the Willamette incident, Russians attacking, the outbreak in Manhattan, and now this. What's next? I bet you five dollars that the next crises will happen in Empire City."

Allison laughed. Across from them, Sergeant Foley looked over from his conversation with Agent Valentine and Ramirez. "Corporal Dunn, Corporal Glasson, make yourselves useful and prep your gear. We'll be having a rough time in Washington. Ramirez, same goes for you."

With a chorus of "yes, sirs" the subordinates went to the armoury. As they went, Dunn gave an annoyed remark under his breath about how Foley had just wanted to be alone with the BSAA Agent.


"Still using that piece?"

Chris looked up from his disassembled gun. Jill stood before him, her lips curled as she stared in distaste at the weapon. "Somehow I don't want to let it go. I lost mine, seems only fair I got to take his."

"Here I was thinking you kept it for sentimental reasons."

"I'm keeping it as a reminder. So that I won't forget that you can't always trust the people in charge."

There was a tense silence between the two friends.

Jill sighed, settling down beside her old partner. "What do you think about this whole thing?" she asked, handing him a pin as he reassembled Wesker's Samurai Edge.

He waited a moment, thinking carefully before he spoke. "I don't like it. There's something...off...about the people leading this op. Did you catch their names?"

Jill shook her head. "All I know is that their clearance goes way over our heads. That Colonel Sullivan, I think we should keep an eye on him."

Chris gave a wry smile. "An eye on our CO? An eye on the government organization that the fucking UN told us to avoid antagonizing?"

"Chris," Jill tightened her clutch upon the barrel of the Samurai Edge. "I left the military a long time ago. All I care about is helping people. I know that's something we have in common. If there's something wrong with Sullivan and his people, I know I can rely on you to help me bring them down. We took down Umbrella, didn't we? We'll do whatever we have to."

With a click, the gun was complete again. Jill turned, and headed for her chopper without a backward glance.

Chris just looked down at the traitor's weapon, and remembered its lessons as Armitage yelled at him to hurry up.