So so sorry! This is supposed to be chapter 3!


A week passed ever since the mission to bring back the G-Virus samples and the assassination of William Birkin failed. The Wolfpack convened in the meeting room to hear their new orders which arrived early in the morning. Leather couches were situated in a semicircle facing the screen and in the corner was a small kitchen and a refrigerator.

Team leader and assault specialist Lupo had already been there since half an hour ago. She was a beautiful woman, to say the least. Her smooth porcelain skin and slender figure made it hard to believe that she was the eldest member of the team. However, beauty was not all she had. Her steely gray eyes with long tapering slits narrowing looked like the edge of well-sharpened knives, and she had an atmosphere of power around her which she donned like a brushed her shoulder length auburn hair out of the way and tied it up in a ponytail.

"Morning, cap'n." The next to walk in was Viper, the youngest of the team, not even ten years of age. Judging by the slightly tan skin and unruly jet-black hair he was definitely Asian, at least partially, if it weren't for his blue eyes reminiscent of a cat. But contrary to the innocent look, his body was in peak condition for a child his age, and the toned muscles of his limber body was apparent through the long sleeve shirt and frayed jeans he wore.

"Good morning. Where's the rest of my team?"

"They're on their way. Oh, but Four Eyes was up until early this morning going through files and piecing them together, so she'll probably be late. Bertha or Beltway should be bringing her."

"I see." Lupo exhaled softly as she turned her head towards the window. She always had a no-nonsense demeanor about her, but now she had a long face, which Viper failed to notice from behind.

"What are we doing now? Why the meeting? It hasn't been that long since our last assignment."

"I will disclose everything when they come. Eat something for now while we wait."

Viper shrugged as he sauntered over to the small kitchen area and began raiding the fridge for some fruits, vegetables, milk, and several pieces of toast. While waiting for the toast to finish, he ravenously attacked some carrots, tomatoes and apples.

Seeing this from the corner of her eye made Lupo's face break into a slight smile as it reminded her of her own children, but at the same time bringing about a sense of unbearable emptiness. The knowledge of him having killed as many people as he had made her slightly sick to her stomach. He was the first child soldier she encountered after retiring from the French Special Forces with a decorated career. At first she was utterly shocked to discover that a child younger than her own would be under her charge.

When everyone met for the first time, they had all underestimated him. No matter how much arduous training he had gone through, he would be nothing but a liability; they were proved wrong. Time and time again Viper proved his worth to the others that he is nothing short of a valuable asset to the Delta Team. While he is not as skilled in stealth as Vector, he uses the advantage of being a child whenever he can, infiltrating ducts that no adult can fit in to compromise enemy defenses, and neutralizing more hostiles than anyone in the team during guerrilla warfare.

But what really separated him from the others was an ability which could be called primal intuition or a sixth sense which gave him the ability to feel oncoming danger, whatever it may be. There was no logical explanation, but so far, it has never been wrong.

As time passed, besides Lupo, Beltway, Spectre, Bertha, and Four Eyes who had no interests outside of medical science gradually came to accept Viper as their equal and dote on him like their favorite nephew. Even the ever-distant Vector followed suit in his own way, teaching how to properly maintain knives after fighting with them and offering pointers in application of certain moves from his favored style of martial arts.

As their leader, Lupo had a vow which she had made back during her days in the Special Forces: to bring every man and woman back from every mission alive. But aside from that, she made another one: to protect the boy when he is need, at least until he grew older, stronger, and wiser.

One by one, the wolves entered the room and took a seat, all of their faces bare without the gas masks concealing their faces.

Vector, who specialized in reconnaissance, was a man of Asian descent with jet-black hair like Viper. Scars of various shapes and sizes were visible on his arms, neck and face, and one can only assume that this was only a fraction of battle scars that he had sustained. His expressionless mask like face paired with his skill in disguising his killing intent made it fitting to call him an assassin. He was carrying a whetstone and several knives which never left his side, and proceeded to check for cracks, warps, and rust as he began sharpening them.

Spectre was a man of many talents, particularly in electronics, surveillance, espionage, and sharpshooting. He was quite lanky, the second tallest man in the team, with platinum blonde hair combed back. His skin is significantly paler than Lupo's, with slight bags under his eyes, giving him sunken eyes like a skeleton. The slight smile he is never seen without sends chills down most people's spines. He pulled out a thin cigar from behind his ear and lit it as his free hand effortlessly danced across the keyboard of his laptop.

Four Eyes entered last, dragged along by Bertha and Beltway, who continued to tease her and pat her on the head like a domestic pet. She is Asian as well, sporting a bob cut with her hair sticking out in every which way as she staggered over to a chair with Bertha's help.

Bertha was a golden blonde woman with blue eyes no less stunning or intimidating than her captain who was wearing sweatpants and a shirt with the red cross on it. She ruffled Viper's hair who was taking a large bite out of a toast with a slice of ham and melted cheese on top as she took a seat and opened her notebook bristling with labels and post-it notes, highlighting things every now and then.

Beltway was a Hispanic man built like a grizzly bear, standing over six feet and three inches, covered in tattoos, enough to make people move out of the way if they were to see him. But despite the massive physique, he had the wide grin of a prankster child ready for action. Unlike Spectre, he had a regular cigarette hanging from his mouth, with a rag, a can of oil and some wax for his metal appendage.

"We have a new mission. Orders from management." Lupe began as she cleared her throat to get their attention. She turned the monitor on, which displayed a geographical map of Raccoon City and footage from street cameras of the virus spreading, and it was spreading fast. It was hell on earth as civilians and animals attacked other civilians and animals, tearing them apart, feasting on their flesh and moving on to look for another poor victim to terrorize.

"The failure to contain virus samples has left Umbrella in a precarious situation. Hunk is not responding. The UBCS-wing has deployed their forces." Red blips began to appear on the map, which began increasing and spreading over a wide area. There were recordings of civilians in distress calling for help with gunfire in the background, which was cut short after meeting their fate. "To ensure Umbrella's survival, the story of what happened must never be told; we need to make sure the truth dies along with each scrap of evidence and every survivor. Umbrella Security Service Task Force, commence Operation Raccoon City."

The screen turned off, and Lupo eyed each of her soldiers that have followed her with courage, fortitude, and skill. "It's as you heard. Tonight, we head to Raccoon City. Prepare yourselves."

"Whoa, whoa, hold the fuck up there, Lupo," Beltway growled scrunching his face, with the smile no longer present, "Umbrella's making us responsible for this 'accident'?"

Taking her silence as an affirmation, he smacked the rag he was using to apply the wax on to the table. "They have got to be fucking kidding! Who the fuck do these maricons think they are?! This is their mess to clean up, not ours!"

Spectre tossed his cigar into the sink of the kitchen without so much as a glance. It sailed perfectly into the washbowl, the ignited tip sizzling out. As the usual drinking partner of Beltway, he was a man who smiled a lot, but he looked ready to murder the high command for their actions. "True, we did fail in the containment of T-Virus. But they fucked up first, not catching wind of betrayal of one of their own."

"While I agree with that, those high and mighty shit stains are too proud to admit that they didn't know about it until it was too late, which is why they gave us a call. Four Eyes, wakey-wakey. I'll make some coffee." Unable to watch Four Eyes drift in and out of her dream world as she listened in, Viper got up and started to boil some water.

"Birkin injecting himself with G was unexpected, it does not change the fact that we failed the last mission. This is our way of taking responsibility for that and to redeem ourselves. They will not be happy with us until we can assure them they will not be connected with the outbreak. Our cut upon success will be greater than usual. Thirty-five million dollars. Two million has already been wired in advance. Our only option is forward. We deploy at 2100 hours. Do what you will, but get through PT. Weapons check commences at 2030."

Beltway was the first to leave in a huff, followed by Spectre who gave Lupo a small nod before leaving with his laptop. She could tell he was angry from his set jaw.

"I'll get my PT done right now. Tell management that they'll need to replace a punching bag." Vector took his leave as well, finally satisfied with the condition of his blades. Bertha lent Four Eyes her shoulder as she carried away the somewhat awake virologist to the showers.

"I'm no happier than they are with this," Lupo muttered. "Big failures start with the smallest of split seams. If we had succeeded in securing G, Operation Raccoon City would not be in effect and I wouldn't have to take you all on this mission that would make past missions a walk in the park."

"I'm already used to it, don't worry. We all need our money, right?"

"Well, it certainly does not hurt to have more than less."

"I saw you looking at your open locket before, but that's your family, isn't it? I can't really think of much use for my cut, so I can give you a quarter of it if you want."

"My pockets are not so empty that I need a child to supply me with money." Lupo glared at Viper rebukingly.

"Sorry."

The background of every USS operative is known by the high command. While there is no formal agreement for confidentiality, none of them are inclined to speak of their past, and Lupo was no exception. Viper didn't feel the need to hide it and has told the entire team, but there was no way that she could. She was the only one in the team that had a family. A family, a weakness that can be exploited.

"See you at PT?"

"No promises. Don't push too much, hmm?"

"D'accord." Viper leapt to his feet as he brushed the crumbs of the toast off from his hands and sped out of the room to the gym.

The athletic facility of Umbrella was roughly half the size of a track stadium with a high ceiling, equipped with rows upon rows of high quality athletic machines. Free weights, treadmills, various machines, climbing walls, punching bags, an octagonal fighting cage, an Olympic sized swimming pool, and even a trampoline.

Viper proceeded towards the climbing walls wearing a vest with weights sewn in and weighted belts on his arms and legs to recreate the amount of weight he would have to carry during missions and started to climb. There were no harnesses or lifelines, since they will not always be readily available in every situation. He was roughly sixty feet above the ground, enough to sustain grievous injuries even with the safety mat. After climbing up and down the wall twice, he moved on to push ups and abdominal exercises.

Vector had worked up a giant puddle of sweat at the punching bag. He had been punching, kicking, elbowing, kneeing, and head-butting it as well with such intensity that the stitching had already started to come apart, and the split seams patched up with duct tape were opening up again and widening. He exhaled sharply one last time before smashing a high roundhouse kick, and started running around the outer circumference of the gymnasium.

"Mein Gott, his stamina is inexhaustible," Bertha sighed as she watched Vector begin his second lap. "But I guess it's expected as a USS operative."

"Oh, hey, Bertha. Is Four Eyes up and about now?"

"Thanks to your coffee. She's at the shooting range right now. I could see her glowing from her enthusiasm to collect new samples when we could very well die this time, or worse." Bertha let a sigh loos from her thin glossy lips, and suddenly pulled Viper into a hug.

"Whoa, wai— what the fuck?"

"Oh, come now, don't be shy. You make an excellent body pillow, in case you didn't know." Her words were not ones that belonged to the team medic and master torturer specializing in extracting information while making living a literal hell. They were more befitting for a child that was cuddling her new plush toy.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Bertha. He may look like bear cub, but he bites like pit viper when fighting." Spectre seemed to materialize out of nowhere as he poked his head out the entrance to see his teammates fraternizing.

"Oh, be quiet, you! Where's your friendly bomber friend?"

"I was—with him—at shooting range— but—his laughing—-like hyena—-got on nerves. So I—left—to do PT." He answered as he grunted between every few words while on the wall-mounted salmon ladder pull-up rig.

"Bertha, you mind? I have to get my workout in too."

"Fine," she pouted as she pinched Viper's cheek affectionately, "spoil my fun. Put my fun in camps, why don't you?"

Viper lightly brushed her hand off and hastily started chasing after Vector who was now on his third lap around.

Once the entire Delta Team had convened and finished their usual session of physical training, they all went into the fighting cage for a sparring round where anyone can attack everyone however they want. The use of training weapons made of wood and rubber was also allowed. Although they all had a certain amount of protective gear on to keep each other safe, they were still covered in welts and mat burns here and there while aching all over when they finished.

As members handpicked to be incorporated into the Umbrella Security Service, there were high standards for proficiency in hand to hand combat. Each member had their own preferred style of fighting which made these bouts practically educational as much as it is dangerous. Usually Lupo or Vector who often are the vanguards come out on top most of the time, but the others were just as good as them. Beltway uses his large physique and brute strength, Spectre relied on technique, often using the opponents attack against them, and Bertha used her extensive knowledge of the human anatomy to her advantage, aiming at every vital spot on the human body. Every single one of them had won at least once, all except Viper. As the smallest of the group, his speed surpassed Vector's even with his gear on, and he knew enough vital points that would be fatal when struck. However, his striking power is comparatively low and he was lacking in size which is surprisingly important when it comes to melee. Although it could be reasoned that he is still a child that has not even hit puberty yet, it made him one of the very first targets to be taken out.

"Motherfucking shit…." The male members that were "killed" in the sparring were washing off the sweat they had worked up. Viper finished first and he was repeatedly punching in the door of a locker. "I WAS SO GODDAMN CLOSE!"

The battle royale style vale tudo sparring was a cutthroat competition as always, and Viper was one of the three who were still "alive". And he was able to take down Spectre and Lupo. All that was left was Vector and Bertha.

"Very, very close fight," Spectre encouraged as he dried his hair. "Very good bayoneting techniques too. Compact and fast."

"He'll probably be kicking our asses around the cage in about a decade." Beltway slapped Viper on the back with his NBA player sized hand.

"Thanks." Viper grumbled. That was fine. He knows that his skill is growing, but the problem this time was that Bertha and Vector came at him simultaneously with coordinated attacks. Vector had a knife and a karambit in each hand swung his knives as he closed in, aiming for veins, arteries and various organs. His record of stabs and lacerations he can inflict in a second was four. In other words, the minute someone is within Vector's range, they will almost certainly lose their lives. But getting out of his way meant getting in Bertha's way with a long machete. Failing to fend them off, he ran out of stamina, and her machete blade hit the back of his head while Vector's knife and karambit stopped at his throat and groin.

What surprised Viper the most was after he was "killed". Just as he was about to leave for the showers, he caught a glimpse of Vector tossing his knives away and let Bertha win. Vector, a man who is the epitome of the strong and silent type, a man that takes fighting very seriously, let someone else win without a fight. "Why did Vector do that, Beltway?"

"Oh that? Probably the same reason why I was at the shooting range with Four Eyes."

Viper frowned in confusion and discontent as he cocked his head to one side, not entirely happy with the answer he got. "I don't get it."

"You will, eventually. Give it another ten years." Spectre snickered as he lit a fresh cigarette after putting on a clean shirt and sweat pants.

"I'm gonna take a nap."

"I need one too. That took a lot more out of me than I expected." Beltway yawned.

"Vector, we'll be on our way. Say hello to Bertha for me, eh?"

Vector glared at them through his hair matted with soap and water and flipped them off as they left. Once they were gone, a silent, blonde figure sauntered into his shower stall with nothing but a towel wrapped around her body. It was Bertha.

"Vector." She whispered in a teasing sing-song voice. The towel hiding her naked body soundlessly slid off and fell to the tiled floor in a heap. She wrapped her arms around his stomach, but she stiffened at the low temperature of the water. "Scheisse, this water's cold!"

"Leave it. Cold showers accelerate fat burning." But Bertha reached out and turned the knob, turning the water slightly tepid.

"Always so serious," Her lips brushed against his shoulders, and her breath tickled him with every whisper. "You'd give Lupo a run for her money for the number of scars."

Vector let out a small snort, but made no effort to distance himself from Bertha.

Her thin, delicate fingers started tracing Vector's rippling abdominal muscles and the scar tissue covering his torso. "This was the first one I patched up. Shattered rifle round. This was shrapnel from a grenade, and this one a stab wound from a dull knife. It was infected rather quick, so it was worrying." Bertha's tongue eventually found its way to Vector's ear which she licked tantalizingly. She smiled as she felt him shudder in her embrace and felt the heat in his body rising.

"These scars," Vector grabbed her hands, "are lessons. Every mistake begets pain, which is temporary and therefore a valuable lesson in what not to do. Besides, it comes with the territory of being in charge of recon. But I do appreciate your handiwork in patching me up."

"Thank you for your kind words. Like you said, it comes with the territory of being the medic. Can I ask you one thing?"

"Depends on what it's about?"

"Why did you let me win?"

"Who knows?" Vector shrugged, but let out a minuscule grunt as he felt her nails dig into his stomach.

"Don't bullshit me," Bertha's tone dropped to a chillingly low one, her eyes now squinting. "Going easy is unbecoming of you to say the least, and you tossed your knife aside. Why? Tell me, or I swear I will tear your stomach open with my bare hands. Don't think I won't."

In a flash, Bertha was slammed against the wall of the shower stall hard, both hands pinned above her head. "You should know why. If I get infected and go past the point of no return, I wish to die by your hand. No one else." He lightly knocked his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes without a blink.

"Really? And what about Lupo? Word about possible intimacy with teammates spread fast. You two work relatively close together on missions, so that was a thing, no? You silver tongued devil. She certainly seemed to value more than just your sense of professionalism and expertise in what you do."

Vector frowned as he watched Bertha's lips curl into a vicious smile. He knew these words were meant to spite him. "We both had a bit of alcohol in our system, and what happened then happened and lasted no more than two weeks. We knew it wouldn't work so we both moved on. Lupo is eight years older than I am, but any man would be fortunate to have someone like her. But we still respect each other as warriors, comrades-in-arms."

Apparently satisfied with his answer, Bertha's smile softened as he planted a kiss on Vector's lips. "Good answer, mein liebling soldat. Fine, I will kill you if you're beyond saving. But a word of warning, you will not die easily. I will make sure I am the last thing on your mind up to the last millisecond. Also, I do like my men with a high tolerance for pain, in case you didn't know. You gritting your teeth, not screaming through my procedures without painkillers, those cold, eyes….very sexy." She purred before kissing him again, letting it linger this time as she lightly chewed on his lower lip.

"Bertha—"

"It's Michaela. Michaela Schneider."

"Schneider…German for 'cutter', if I remember correctly." He found it surprisingly fitting for someone of her expertise as both doctor and torturer-for-hire.

"Yes, don't you forget it. And this goes without saying, but if you fucking betray me, you die." Bertha broke free of Vector's grip with lightning fast reflexes, pulling him close, attacking his lips hungrily. She guided his hands towards her waist and lower back as she turned the temperature of the water higher. Steam began to rise from the stall as their hands, lips and tongue began exploring each other's bodies. A heated moan escaped from her lips as Vector nipped her just under the jawline. The ecstatic pleasure shot through her like a high voltage shock from a defibrillator as she arched her back. Vector kept going making the pitch in her moans rise as he gently but firmly kneaded her breasts while pinching her fully erect nipples between his fingers.

"I think I found your weak point, Frau Doktor. Several in fact," Vector hissed in her ear as he felt her hands run her hands through his hair.

She retaliated by smashing her lips onto his again, forcing her tongue into his mouth and lashing it around every which way, stroking the inside of his cheeks, gums, teeth, and the roof of his mouth. Her hand slid down below Vector's belt line and reached down to his manhood, gently stroking it with her hand. Vector groaned into the kiss, proceeding to slide his hands to Bertha's buttocks, and grabbed them firmly before picking her up. Realizing what he was about to do, she obliged, lifting herself off the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Mmh, quite the passionate romantic, aren't you?"

"Missionary style seemed too boring and basic for someone with your skills and taste is all."

Bertha's eyes widened slightly in shock. Did he just make a snide remark? The man known as the absolute, no nonsense man only on par with Lupo? Realizing what just, happened, she giggled a little. "Shut up and fuck me, idiot." Bertha growled, breathing heavily. Her entire body was flushed, the excitement making glow a shade of crimson.

As Vector entered her, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her moans and screams that leaked out with every move he made. Her teeth marks drew blood as she bit down even harder as he elicited screams signaling her consecutive climaxes but she didn't care, and neither did he. Both of them gave in to their primal instincts and drowned in the carnal pleasures as they continued to ravish each other.

By the time they had finished, their bodies were riddled with a combination of love bites, teeth marks and nail scratches (which only Vector sustained), giving them a hard time to cover them up to avoid explaining how they came to be.