Chapter Three - Lachrymal
It was eight in the evening on a Friday night in September and the Raccoon Police Department's public services counters and waiting area was packed. The scum of Raccoon seemed to come out in full force today. Worst of all, none of the nightshift officers were keeping an eye on them in the dingy, poorly lit room that branched off from the main hall of the police station.
There was only one officer watching the main hall and the rest of the station's security feeds as the Sargent was supervising the rest of the bare bones staff within the station. They had been busy the entire day due to a spate of drunk drivers. It happened Friday through Sunday, every week, without fail.
One incredibly stupid drunk man decided to hit on a particular girl at the worst possible time for her. He ignored her snarls of "Step off! I told you to FUCK OFF!" as he tried to put his hands on her. Finally, Officer Marvin Branagh heard the commotion from the hall outside and came to investigate.
Marvin yelled "HEY! KNOCK IT OFF!" as he walked in and was greeted by a flash of auburn hair, purple and black leather charging at one of the drunk drivers that the Sergeant had brought in. It took a surprising amount of strength to stop her mid-swing at the drunk's face. "Enough! You don't look old enough to be waiting on bonds. So, why are you here Miss...?", Marvin firmly asked.
The girl had stopped fighting him as she saw a black name badge with "Officer Branagh" stamped across it. She bitterly mumbled out, "Claire Redfield. And I'm here because of that... accident... I'm waiting for my brother. I think the officer said his name was Kevin? Anyway. He told me to wait here..." before she glanced at the clock hanging near where the officer came from. "After I got pulled out of school. That was a few hours ago."
Marvin shook his head at the mention of that particular name. There was only one officer with that name and that was Kevin Ryman. Marvin wasn't surprised, the guy never did his job properly and the Sergeant that was on-duty tonight seemed to have it in for the guy.
"Well, I'm very sorry about the mix up. You're supposed to be in the secure waiting room upstairs. Follow me.", Marvin apologetically said as he gently ushered Claire toward a wooden divider that was located to the left of the chairs and obscured a door that led further into the station.
"The station used to be an art gallery before the gallery itself was relocated to Fisson street. I'm afraid it's got a weird layout so I'll show you the way myself." Marvin chatted out loud as he and Claire made their way through a hallway that had a single room on the right-hand side which was labeled as "Archives".
Claire could see what he meant when they got to the door at the end of the first hallway. They then had to go through an even more dimly lit hallway that surrounded another room that came off to the right of it, this one was labeled as "Briefing Room".
At the end of this creepily dark hallway, Claire was almost blinded by the now proper lighting as they stepped through a door to a heavy art deco styled foyer. In the small foyer there was a set of stairs with a large window near the middle-landing.
Marvin made his way to the top of the stairs as Claire followed his lead to a nearby door that he went to open, only to find it was locked.
As Marvin went fishing for his keys somewhere within the pockets of his uniform, Claire wandered down the hallway to the right and had a look at the three statues sitting on pedestals. Two of the statues were up against the wall. Both of them were facing a larger statue in the center of the room that faced out from the other two, and had an arm raised in some sort of victory pose.
I guess they didn't fit in the new art gallery? Kind of weird seeing all of these statues and paintings around a police station of all places. These ones look like Roman soldiers or something, are they supposed to represent the police and the people?
"Hey, you? I got the door unlocked.", Marvin said as he waved for her to come over to the now open door. Claire scuffed her boots on the way back over to the patiently waiting officer before she looked down the almost black hallway. It was only illuminated by a red light, but there seemed to be a lit room at the end of it.
Marvin pointed down the hallway as he calmly said, "Down that hallway is the waiting room, there's a drink vending machine and there's comfy couches in there. If there's any problems just go through the door near the couches and you'll come out near the Communications Room. The other officers and the Sergeant are currently in there if you need anything."
Claire nodded and quietly mumbled, "Thanks" as she went through the door and down the hallway. It seemed as though the black, eerily red lit and silent hallway went on forever. She advanced down it with her boots loudly echoing her steps off the wooden floor in the silence until she saw a dimly lit room adjoining the dark hallway. Within the room there was a comfortable looking black leather couch, another set of the uncomfortable plastic waiting chairs she was sitting in for hours downstairs and a Raptor Coffee drink vending machine.
Claire ran her hand through her loose auburn hair as she plodded over to the couch and flopped herself onto it. She let herself think back over the events of the day.
I was going to drop the bike that Pops and I built off to finally get that awesome flame paintjob. Compared to Elza's boring one, my bike would be the shit with it!
Claire gave a small smile as she visualized her finished bike in her mind, but her thoughts turned sour.
But... Then Pops and Mom couldn't give me a lift later and only told me when I was heading out to school. Then school sucked, Elza didn't show up. Like that's a big fat surprise there.
During the lunch break we kept hearing and seeing all of these freaking fire trucks going down Ennerdale St towards the industrial Cider District.
I only found out that there was a freak warehouse fire when Mrs. Mallet pulled me aside...
Claire hauled herself upright on the couch. She tucked her legs up against herself as she wrapped her arms around her knees and let her head drop against them.
And then she told me that my parents... had been in a car accident. That officer, Kevin what's-his-name said that a drunk driver pulled in front of them from the oncoming side of the lane.
They were trying to surprise me by bringing my bike back from the paintshop while I was in school... They tried to swerve but the trailer made the car spin... It came off the road and flipped into an embankment. They were trapped. The Raccoon Fire Department was busy trying to put that fire out...
Claire felt sick to her stomach as her body was a whirlpool with so many emotions. Shock, fear, anger, confusion... It made her body tremble all over as it finally hit her like a freight train.
It wasn't supposed to be like this! Not today. Not any time soon either! How the hell could this happen? Why didn't Raccoon have a proper emergency service?! They could've been rescued! Why them? Why us?! WHY?!
Claire began to cry as her body convulsed with each confused, angry but quiet sob. Her tears drenched her face and her loose hair that had fallen forward, thankfully covered it. Her eyes and her chest felt like they were on fire with every shudder she made.
If I didn't ask about my stupid bike... They'd be here still... They could've been saved... It's not my fault... But... It is my fault!
Her nose ran with every weep she uttered. It felt like she was choking on her own heavy grief and guilt. Her mind was swirling in circles with the same thoughts, blames and laments.
Chris still wasn't here. And our parents... They...
"They... Won't ever come home again! IT'S ALL FUCKED!", Claire brokenly howled out to herself in-between sobs.
Claire had lost track of time as she was wracked with emotion. The howling sobs quieted down to smaller, silent ones as her voice had escaped her. By the time this had happened, she hadn't even realized that someone else was in the room with her until she heard a loud metallic "THUMP!" that made her jump slightly. She slightly lifted her head from her knees and sniffled as she squinted through her swollen, teary eyes at what made the sound to her right.
Pale blue shirt... Dark blue pants? An officer?
Claire quietly wiped her eyes and could see a tall blond man in the same R.P.D. uniform as Officer Branagh. Claire observed the blond man as he audibly growled and hit the front of the coffee vending machine with the palm of his bare left hand.
Whoever he is... He looks pretty pissed. He's got a gold name badge though... it says something...
Claire had to squint once more to make out the engraving on the gold badge.
Sgt. A. Wesker... The Sergeant, huh?
"It can't still be broken. Bloody Umbrella. Anything to save a buck!", Sergeant Albert Wesker hissed out at the machine as he hit it again resulting in an even louder metallic clang.
Wesker's money still hadn't registered in the machine. He didn't carry more cash on him then what he would need for the day. He expected his day to go as planned.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!", he snarled as he put his hands on the top of the machine and began shaking it.
I guess he's having a really shitty day too if he's that desperate for shitty coffee. At least he's more interesting to watch compared to the bunch of old drunk assholes downstairs.
Claire thought to herself with a small grin on her face as she watched him continue shaking the machine while loudly growling at it. The scene he was making lasted a few solid minutes before he finally released the machine back into it's place.
Must've gotten it to work, FINALLY.
Wesker couldn't see her face and couldn't see that Claire was observing his every movement. She saw that he smirked to himself as he pushed the button for his drink with a loud "click" and grabbed a cardboard cup from the small table between the couch and the machine.
His smirk thinned and became a scowl.
Oh no, it's the end of the world. The Sergeant didn't get what he wanted.
Claire sarcastically thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. She saw Wesker swear under his breath as he gave the machine a swift, light kick and the smell of the drink from the cup in his right-hand rose and finally hit her.
… Hm... Hot chocolate?
Wesker stepped back from the machine and glanced around the small room before he muttered something. Claire could've sworn she heard the man say "Incompetence surrounds me. Useless janitor forgot the damn bin again!" before he spun around and looked at her.
Wesker had only just noticed that the seemingly endless sobbing had come to a stop. His eyes narrowed as he saw the auburn haired young woman unconsciously squirm where she sat when he glanced at her.
Claire could still see him clearly despite that fact. He grabbed the pair of sunglasses dangling from his shirt's pocket and quickly but almost gracefully shoved them onto his face. Wesker then cleared his throat as he sat the cardboard cup on the wooden floor in front of her before he proceeded to stomp out of the room and slam the door on the way out.
It was only when Claire heard a door slam faintly in the distance that she stretched out and slid down from the leather couch to the floor. She grabbed the steaming cup of hot chocolate from the floor and took small, slow sips. The creamy hot drink was a godsend for her hoarse and sore throat.
It wasn't long after Claire had emptied the cup that she heard a worried but welcomed voice from down the dark hallway call out, "Claire?"
A few moments later Marvin led a tall, brunet man dressed in USAF woodland-style fatigues into the small waiting room. "It'll probably take the courthouse a couple of weeks to sort out that paperwork I had you fill out.", Marvin finished as the brunet man nodded.
"Just going to give the Sergeant a head's up. You're good to go though.", Marvin said before he went out the same door that the Sergeant had slammed a little while ago. Claire felt a hand on her head and heard the warm voice of her brother. "Hey shrimp. Sorry I took forever to get here.", Chris said as he knelt on the floor next to his younger sister.
"All of Cider was blocked off and I had to take the long way through Stoneville.", Chris stated over his sister's sniffles before he pulled her into a hug. Claire couldn't contain her sobbing again and tried to talk to Chris but nothing came out other than a hoarse croaking sound.
It's... all my fault. I'm so sorry Chris.
"... Look, that officer told me what happened and nothing is your fault. That's it. Plain and simple, Claire. I've gotta look out for you now and first thing's first... We're going home. We can talk later whenever you want but you have to get some rest first.", Chris firmly said as he gently made Claire get off the station's cold wooden flooring.
It didn't take long for the Redfield siblings to make their way out of the maze that was the Raccoon Police Department. Chris had parked his restored 1968 royal blue Shelby Cobra on the other side of Ennerdale St just in front of L.E. Books. The car was something that Chris and their father had restored together and seeing it had upset Claire once more.
It was going to be a long and depressing drive to their now empty house.
Albert Wesker was hunched over the plain desk within a small office that had an adjoining dark room which was tucked below the stairs that led to the Communications Room. The R.P.D. still hadn't fully upgraded to computers across the station so there was still only an old typewriter to use. Wesker had chosen this particular office as the Chief of Police Brian Irons was constantly attempting to undermine him and he couldn't harass Wesker over the phone as it had seemingly "vanished" from the office one day.
It had been a few weeks since the warehouse fire within the Cider District. The Raccoon Police Department and the Raccoon Fire Department had a joint investigation which came to the conclusion of the origin of the fire being arson.
Of course it was arson. It was another incompetent cover-up by Umbrella. That particular warehouse contained the remaining documents that tied "Drugs, Inc." to the center of the Umbrella Corporation. That should've been corrected during the government investigation two years ago that resulted in the Arklay General Hospital being shut down.
That obviously, did not happen.
Wesker continued typing his report up. He had to as he was the only on-duty Sergeant that particular day. Of course, Wesker omitted the truth behind the fire as he sat back to read his final notes within his report.
Due to the constant and steady increase of the crime rate within Raccoon, it is my personal opinion that the fire may have been due to some sort of territory war between some of the local gangs that operate out of the Cider District. This would correspond with the usage of certain accelerants discovered by the R.F.D. at this and similar fires found within the area.
Far enough away from Umbrella, but still entirely plausible.
Wesker allowed himself a smirk at his handiwork as he freed the paper from the typewriter.
That toad of a Chief is in today. I'd rather save myself the trouble of dealing with the idiot so I'll drop these off with his secretary before I head out for some lunch.
Wesker pushed himself up from the desk and his chair as he grabbed the small pile of papers that made up his final report on the investigation and headed out of the office. Wesker was trudging up the stairwell as he rolled his head side to side until he felt and heard two loud and satisfying cracking sounds.
Evidently, Spencer is obsessed with the style of the architect behind the Arklay Mansion and the Research Center. The mansion actually had some semblance of a layout but, this place? A single stairwell to the upper floors? No doubt this is some sort of imitation of the mad architect's style as the security system presented as puzzles are nowhere near as irritating as what was in the mansion!
Wesker scoffed to himself as he swiftly made his way through the secure waiting room that lead down to the Raccoon Public Library. The only way to get to the Chief's office was to cut through the library, exit out into the second floor of the station's main hall before you were even at his secretary's waiting room.
Until that second set of stairs has been completed... This amount of idiocy on a daily basis is slowly but surely killing me.
Once Wesker reached the spacious waiting room he quickly flung his report onto the secretary's desk that was tucked behind a rounded wooden counter. He hadn't been inclined to linger as he had other matters to attend to; William Birkin had been nagging Wesker to visit his newly constructed underground laboratory.
It wouldn't take Wesker long to backtrack through the R.P.D. before he could make his way over to the nearby Waste Treatment Plant that was located over on the corner of Central and Park Street. The treatment plants of Raccoon were all interconnected and provided Umbrella's research staff fairly discreet transport and access to their workplace around and below Raccoon.
However, Wesker hadn't factored in the group of journalists and upset civilians that were currently crowding the enclosed courtyard of the station. He could see that some of the people had handmade signs with various, colorful complaints and demands splashed across them as he shoved his way past.
If they had only blocked the gate or the street. I could easily issue a citation and disperse them. Not particularly my problem though. It would seem that their issue is with Mayor Warren and the toad.
Wesker had finally forced his way across the courtyard. He had gotten some breathing room a few feet from the large dark green gate that was set into the decorative wall around the station when a woman with a blonde bob wearing a maroon pantsuit stepped in front of him.
"Move!", Wesker snarled as the woman pulled out a small cassette tape recorder from her jacket. "I'm Alyssa Ashcroft from The Raccoon Press, can you please comment on the quickly rising crime rate in the city?", Alyssa politely asked as she shoved the recorder in Wesker's direction. Wesker ignored her and continued onward to open the main gate but, the journalist was very persistent to talk to the only officer stupid enough to go through the crowd of protesters.
"Come on, sir! What about the rumors of the fire being arson?! What do you have to say about the R.P.D. being unable to cope with the increase of mafia related activites? We and the public shouldn't be suffering from the R.P.D.'s incompetence! A family has lost their parents and only for that to be made worse, one of them was a retired United States Airforce veteran! THIS ISN'T ACCEPTABLE!", Alyssa loudly berated Wesker.
Hm... Perhaps I could use them to force the toad to accept my proposal for my own unit...
Wesker thought smugly to himself as he decided to turn the current situation into his favor.
Some of the protesters joined in as Alyssa rallied them up in Wesker's direction. Alyssa hadn't expected Wesker to suddenly snap around and without a trace of his annoyance earlier he said, "You know what? You're absolutely right."
Alyssa held up the tape recorder to Wesker as he cleared his throat and launched into a small speech. "I never really understood why Raccoon lacks a dedicated emergency service given the size of the city. Arklay, Makoba and Stoneville all rely on the services that run within Raccoon. Personally, as an Army veteran myself... I am truly shocked and appalled that a fellow veteran had to pass away before there was any outcry on the matter.", Wesker finished solemnly.
Alyssa nodded eagerly as she waited for Wesker to continue on.
"If Raccoon had a proper specialized team to cover both emergency responses and higher level crimes then, that'd be killing two birds with one stone. So, I'd like to recommend the creation of a "Special Tactics And Rescue Service". However, I'm afraid that picketing the police station won't help. The public would need to contact Mayor Warren and Chief Irons to have the response escalated directly.", Wesker coolly finished with a slight smirk.
"Thank you for your time officer-", Alyssa started before Wesker interrupted her. "Sergeant Albert Wesker and it's not a problem. I just... feel obligated to do my part for Raccoon.", Wesker humbly finished with a fake smile that the journalist fell for.
A few months later in April, 1996 Mayor Michael Warren and the Chief of Police Brian Irons officially announced the formation of the Special Tactics And Rescue Service it would otherwise known as "S.T.A.R.S." for short. S.T.A.R.S. was to be lead by the man that had proposed it with the city's support. Not that this had surprised the newly promoted Captain Albert Wesker. He always got his way, eventually.
A slightly shorter chapter though the next chapter will be longer with some S.T.A.R.S. shenanigans! All I can say is, poor Captain Wesker!
I've been using Outbreak characters to fill in gaps whenever needed, "Mrs. Mallet" is not an OC but appears as an NPC called "Regan Mallet" with her daughter "Lucy Mallet" in the Outbreak games.
I've also tucked in a couple of references to other things, please drop me a PM or a review if you recognize them. :)
If there's any confusion from having particular streets mentioned, then please refer to my map of Raccoon at Enetirnel on DeviantArt called "Map of Raccoon city - Home of Umbrella"!
Terminology Cheat Sheet:
Lachrymal: Is a small part of bone that is formed around the small almond shaped Lacrimal glands that are located within a person's eyes towards their nose. The word itself is associated with one crying or sobbing given the origin of the word.
USAF: United States Air Force abbreviation
Woodland-style fatigues: These were the standard woodland camoflague pattern used by the USAF in the 90s up until the new Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) was introduced as part of a standardization of all United States military service uniforms. The pattern is similar to what Steve Burnside wears in CODE: Veronica whereas Jill in REmake/Resident Evil GameCube is wearing the digital BDU.
Arson: A purposely lit fire that is considered as a criminal offense.
Accelerants: Fluids or any other items used to purposely start a fire extremely quickly. In most cases this could be fuel, kerosene and so-on.
Citation: Is a paper document typically issued by a police officer for minor offenses. The citation a police officer gives to a violator will state the charge behind it being issued and will include a listed date in which the violator will be required to appear before a judge within court regarding the offense.
In Ohio, specially Southern Ohio where Raccoon would be located - it is illegal for protesters to block of streets, sidewalks and general access. If they are being rowdy as well, they can be issued citations for that too. Should they still refuse to leave the area after being dispersed by police then the offenders can be arrested for public disorderly conduct.