Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur
Disclaimer:
The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent.
Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls
By Tom Lazur
CHAPTER II
The seemingly never-ending road hurried towards Gary, then just as quickly hurried away behind him. Gary liked to think like this whenever he took long car trips. He enjoyed the picture of the Earth spinning and whirling in a certain way just to make sure the road went under his tires. If the world wasn't revolving around him, it was revolving for him. Gary smiled at the thought. He joined his particular line of work so that he could do it for fifteen years, retire, and then write books had about his experiences for the rest of his life. The road was sandwiched between forests, and the winding road made it difficult to see what was very far ahead. Just then, a road sign ran by that read Hemming Germ Research Facility Authorized Personnel Only. Gary thought to himself how wonderful it was to be an authorized person. It was such an important, official thing. He barely noticed the Warning: Biohazard sign scamper by.
Carl had been able to glean the necessary information from Hollace. No doubt the timid businessman would try to cover his mistakes. Call in favors from the facility to dissuade him from entering. Gary had taken this into account while preparing for his trip.
Eventually, the globe started to slow down, and the surprisingly large research complex crept into view. Gary whistled. The building that was previously shrouded by trees was at least six stories high, and made of steel, concrete, and glass. It was juxtaposition when compared with the quiet, natural looking forest surroundings. The gates of the complex drew nearer, and Gary noticed that they were just closing. Beyond the gates, he saw a white bus moving down an opening that was probably a parking garage. The title borne on the back of the bus appeared to say New York State Penitentiary Committee. Gary frowned and grunted. The reason why a prison bus would be out in the country, especially at a research facility eluded him. He thought back to his prior briefing, and only one possible answer registered.
By the time Gary had reached the gate, it had closed, and the guard stationed inside a booth next to the gate got out and walked to the car. Gary rolled his window down, stuck his head out, smiled, and said, "Hey there! I'm Walt McIntyre on behalf of the Albany Science and Technology Newsletter." Gary handed him a false business card. "I'm here to see Mr. Yunoki."
The guard stared at Gary's card for a moment, then down at his clipboard, then up to Gary. "You're two hours early."
Gary stared back at the guard, his smile not wavering. "Well I've always been extra punctual. There was a lot less traffic than I'd anticipated. Hope you don't mind too much."
The guard didn't move. "I can't let you in."
Neither did Gary. "What?"
"No visitors can enter the facility early. You'll have to wait two hours. It's a very strict policy."
Gary's smile shrank, but he hadn't given up hope. "Oh come on, I'm sure someone would love to give me a tour."
The guard said evenly and firmly, "No."
Gary sighed. He wouldn't get anywhere with the guard. "Alright, I'll just wait for a while."
Gary put his car in reverse, backed up, and then made a U-turn. He drove about a quarter mile away and parked his car on the side of the rode. He sat and thought for a bit in silence, reached behind the seat, pulled out a manila folder, and removed a file from it. He began rereading his assignment.
July 22nd.
To Mr. Gary Peterson, Private Investigator;
In the past you have served the Saint Michael Institute of Medicine and its members with admirable results. We have found your work and reports thorough and straightforward. It is with confidence that we again have employed your services. We have reason to believe that there is illegal activity being conducted at the Hemming Germ Research Facility in New York, and we need your expertise in discovering it. As of now we have only hearsay and speculation as of the illegal activities of the facility, and possess no physical evidence. Because of this we have no power to ask the authorities to intervene. What we wish you to discover is what is the true nature and extent of the activities, and who is responsible for them. We believe that the facility is wrongfully imprisoning various peoples and subjecting them to biological tests and experiments. We also fear that certain unknown sections of the Federal Science Association and Federal Environmental Association are somehow involved in the activities. This is an appalling and unacceptable practice, and must be uncovered. You will of course be paid your usual fee and a bonus of $15,000 (fifteen thousand dollars) upon completion of your assignment. We the staff of the Saint Michael Institute of Medicine wish you good luck.
At the end, there was an illegible signature, and the typed name of Charles F. Mooney, Head Administrator. Following the first letter, there was a short memo.
Dear Sir;
The following items have been collected and dropped off at your office:
1. High Performance Nico Telescopic Photo Camera and high resolution film.
2. night vision goggles.
3. Custom made Colt .45 with laser sight and extended cartridge and 40 (forty) rounds of hollow and hard point ammunition.
4. Identification stating the existence of Walt McIntyre, and accompanying business cards
Be advised that there will be armed security personnel at the facility. Exercise caution. An appointment with Mr. Onu Yunoki has been arranged for 3:00 pm on the 24th.
Mooney and the Institute also sent this memo. Gary smiled a little as he thought of how generous the institute had been in their outfitting of Gary's assignment. It wasn't often when all of his requests were filled. Perhaps he should have asked for more. There was one more piece of literature that had anything to do with Gary's assignment. It was a fax he had picked up in the morning.
Dear Sir;
Please try to gather any information regarding the Umbrella Chemicals Corporation. We believe it is involved somehow.
Now this last fax, also sent by Mooney, had really piqued his curiosity. All he knew about Umbrella was that it's headquarters was located somewhere in Europe, and that its name rang synonymous with rich, powerful, and inhuman. The only reason they had been able to escape being shut down by uncountable public safety laws was their money. The corporation was notorious for paying huge salaries for people willing to accept dangerous working conditions, and even accidental exposure to whatever they test. Gary wasn't quite sure what to expect now, but by God it was fascinating. His grin became wider as he thought about it. This could very well be the next profile scandal that made the right people rich, and he would be in at the ground floor! It almost made his mouth water. He was positive that the next few days would be nothing short of incredible, although as his mind went back to the suspicion of the illegal tests, he shuddered. The idea of testing whatever it was they might have there on actual humans disturbed him. Hopefully, all the fears would be bunk, and everything at the facility would be normal as far as germ research goes. Gary looked at his watch. There was still another hour and a half until the guard would let him in.
He opened his car door and stepped out. It was still fairly warm out, so Gary's wool overcoat remained in the backseat, and he was dressed in a pleasant, gray, three-piece suit. Gary stretched his arms out, and as he lifted his arms into the air, his jacket opened, and his concealed shoulder holster came into view. He had learned in the past that there were many people prone to unpleasantness when certain dark secrets were brought into the light. He also carried a retractable baton in a concealed jacket pocket located in the inseam. One could never be too careful. Gary stood six feet and three inches tall, and was solidly built. Being physically fit also proved to be quite useful in his career so far. He took a short walk down the road and back to his car to get his blood moving, looked down at his watch again, and got back in the car. He started the engine, and drove down the dusty road for the second time.
The iron gates and guard station were a familiar sight. Joining the guard this time though, was a man in a white lab coat. They both had grim expressions, and the one in white was fidgeting. As he pulled up to the guard post, he dusted off his smile, and replaced it on his lips. "Hey there again! It's me. I'm two minutes late, I hope that won't count against me."
The guard was unmoved. "I'm sorry sir, you'll have to return tomorrow."
Gary stopped smiling. "Hey look, I was just kidding."
The man in white spoke. His brow was furrowed, and his glasses resting on his nose made him look like a nervous rodent. "I'm sorry Mr. McIntyre, but he have to close the facility to visitors today. There was a gas leak inside, and we don't want to be held responsible for people not covered on our insurance policies. I hope this won't inconvenience you too much."
"Inconvenience?! It's a four-hour drive to the nearest motel! I had an appointment! I don't want to have to drive back out here again!"
"I'm sorry Mr. McIntyre. You'll have to come back tomorrow."
Gary's face was a picture of confusion. "What in God's name is so important that I have to…" Gary was drawn towards the facility's parking lot. From the opening that he had seen the bus enter, he saw two Jeeps peal out in a hurry. Inside each of the Jeeps there were two men dressed in khaki uniforms. The Jeeps turned away from Gary's car, then headed down a road leading to the back of the complex. Gary looked from the Jeeps to the man in white and said, "Ah, well, I am not happy about this, but judging from how thick-headed you guys have been so far, there's no sense in arguing. Just what's your name, anyhow?"
The man in white half sneered and said scathingly, "Smith. Joe Smith."
Gary stared back at Smith, and a few moments of silence passed by. Finally, Gary smiled again, and said, "Well Smithy, see you tomorrow. I hope you've removed your thumb from your ass by then."
The man in white scowled but Gary didn't see him do it. He had already turned his car around, and was driving away from the complex. He knew that getting inside the facility today would be impossible. But in the meantime, the next best thing was still feasible. Gary drove until he couldn't see the guard post any more then turned off the road. He drove between the trees perpendicular to the road and after awhile, stopped and got out of his car. He walked to his trunk, opened it up, and removed his high powered camera. He started to walk parallel to the complex which he could still see the top of over the trees. After he had made it to the east side of the complex, he looked for some higher ground. About thirty yards ahead, there was a sudden and steep incline of rocks and earth that was covered in dirt and a solitary elm tree. It rose about twenty feet above the ground, and was more or less what Gary was looking for. He walked up the incline and stood on top of the hill. He could just see the complex and it's surrounding courtyard. He raised the camera to his eyes, and through it, was able to see quite clearly what was going on inside the gate.
The man who called himself Smith was having a heated argument with another man in a white lab coat. The other man was Asian, and wore glasses. The Asian one shook his finger at Smith, then pulled out a radio, and started to talk into it. Gary started snapping pictures. He then turned his attention to the backside of the complex. He saw a trail leading out behind it, and after following it for a moment, he caught sight of one of the Jeeps. Gary scanned for the other one, but could not find it. Gary took some pictures of the Jeep, then looked all around the surrounding forest, but couldn't see the other Jeep anywhere. This began to make him nervous. His car was not far from the facility. The Jeeps might chance upon it and they would radio the complex about it, then Gary would be in a lot of trouble. A thought occurred to Gary. Just what were the men in the uniforms looking for? He doubted very much that it was a runaway gas leak.
A twig broke. Gary snapped his head to his left, and saw a man stumble out of some nearby brush. Without taking a moment to think, Gary whirled around and hid behind the nearby elm tree. Gary softly muttered obscenities under his breath. He listened to the ruffling of leaves and dragging of feet on dirt as the man approached. Working very hard, Gary racked his brains for an excuse to be wandering around in the forest outside a germ research facility in a three-piece suit with a high-powered camera pistol. Only one possible answer came to mind, and Gary thought it would sound really stupid. He gritted his teeth, then turned to meet the approaching man.
"Hey! Dou you mind? You're scaring away the birds… What the hell?" Gary was puzzled as he looked at the approaching man. The man was only wearing a hospital gown, had something red smeared on his mouth and chest, and looked like he was plastered beyond comprehension. As Gary looked closer at him, he saw that his pupils and corneas were almost white. The man let out a raspy moan and started to shamble even quicker.
" What are you… doing?" Gary started to back away. Before he could do anything more, the previously undetectable Jeep came plowing out of the shrubbery, and rolled to a stop only ten feet away. One man took out a hunting rifle, and the other took out an air pistol. The drunken man turned to face the Jeep and let out another moan. The man with the air pistol leveled it at Gary, and Gary lifted his hands in the air. There was a quick PFFFT! And Gary's world twisted and shrunk until it was a little ball of black that erupted into inky darkness. The last thing he remembered was the sound of a rifle firing
