Chapter 7: Shootouts and Standoffs
There was a clatter of metal as spent magazines were ejected from guns. A series of clicks sounded as fresh ones were inserted and chambers were closed.
Chris didn't dare to stick his head above the table. As much as he wanted to get a grasp of the situation, he knew there would be hot lead waiting for him if he did. Right now, his only concern was to try and get Rebecca in a better position. If the gunner's advanced, she would be exposed, and undoubtedly gunned down. He mimed a few hand signals to Barry and Jill: an open palm brushing over his head, then a fist pointing through the table, and finally tapping his jaw. A loose translation: Covering fire in the direction of attackers, vocal distraction.
"Identify yourselves," he yelled over the table. His request was met with silence.
"Not very chatty, are they?" he thought.
"You work for Umbrella?" he asked. Again, silence.
"Screw it."
He popped up and fired a round from his shotgun. Jill sprayed a volley with her MP-5K, and Barry's magnum filled in the gap with thunderous claps. Chris saw the shooters duck under cover. Some were crouched behind desks and cabinets like they were. More were crouched in the hall behind them. He saw a glimpse of the high end equipment they were using and the gear they wore.
As the rounds sang over her head, Rebecca dove and crawled underneath a metal desk. It covered her much better than the metal base of the growth tube did. The attackers returned fire, their bullets ricocheting around the room. Chris pumped another round into his shotgun and fired before ducking again.
"'Becca, you good?" he called. Her voice replied a little shaken.
"Yeah."
Chris heard muffled footsteps. The shooters were advancing and moving around them, trying to flank them in the room. He picked up a piece of glass and stuck it around the edge of the table. He saw a flash of movement in the transparent reflection. He dropped the glass and poked his gun around the edge of the table and fired. The shot hit the man dead on. The close range power of the shotgun knocked him back off of his feet.
They fired again. Bullets bounced around the table. Jill dove out from behind the cabinet and drained her clip. She dropped one soldier as she landed, and scrambled to find more cover as they fired at her. Glassware popped across tables as she crawled underneath them, ignoring the shards cutting at her skin.
Barry's magnum sang out and pierced the armor of another soldier trying to flank Rebecca. He fell over firing his gun as he died. Rebecca leaned out and fired at the cluster of soldiers that tried to advance through the door.
A metal object bounced around the table that Claire and Chris were ducked behind. A grenade! Chris quickly snatched it up and tossed it over the table, grabbing Claire and throwing her to the ground, then piling on top of her. The concussion in the room was deafening. Part of the table folded, and bits of metal showered onto the siblings.
Chris coughed. "Claire, go! I'll cover you!" He let Claire up and fired his shotgun over what was left of the table. Claire scurried away, crouched low under whizzing bullets and hopped over a counter. She pulled the grenade launcher off of her shoulder and loaded a 40 millimeter shell into the breech.
The soldiers stuck at the door were laying down fire, giving those in the room a chance to try and flank the team. Claire flipped up the sights on the launcher and lined up the door.
"Guys, get down!" she yelled. They all ducked and she fired. The explosive round struck the door frame and rocked the room. The door and part of the wall blew out and she saw three soldiers disappear into the wreckage.
Jill slapped another magazine into her MP-5K and squeezed off a few bursts at the remaining soldiers. They had grouped together on the far side of the room. One popped out of cover with a grenade in his hand. He caught a few bullets in the chest from Rebecca's handgun. His armor held and he began to toss the grenade. One of Barry's .357 rounds blew through his head, splattering the wall behind him in gray matter. His motion stopped, but inertia carried the grenade a ways, and it rolled and exploded, causing both sides to duck as another explosion rocked the room.
Claire had ducked behind the counter from the explosion. The grenade had landed close to her corner of the room. She heard a loud ringing in her ears, and her vision was swimming. As she tried to regain focus, someone grabbed her from behind. As she was wrenched from behind the counter, she saw the two remaining soldiers get peppered from Jill's submachine gun. She saw Chris drop his shotgun and draw his sidearm with unnatural speed and point it directly at her. The rest of them followed suite and turned their guns on her
All this happened in less than a few seconds, and Claire was still hazy from the grenade concussion.
"Why are they aiming at me?" her mind slurred. She groaned and all at once, she was herself, and she was aware of the arm around her throat and the cold metal pressed against her head.
The last soldier, a man with black hair and a cut on his forehead, had grabbed Claire in the confusion after the grenade explosion. He had his sidearm jammed against her temple, and he was hiding his body and head behind hers. Claire could feel his nose digging into the back of her head.
The rest of the S.T.A.R.S had taken aim at the soldier and Claire. A standoff. None of them could clearly see his body without Claire's getting in the way. He spoke, his voice shaking with anger and stress.
"Drop your guns." Chris ignored his request and stated his own.
"Let her go, right now." They were in all spaced out in a line in front of him, from left to right stood Rebecca, Barry, Chris and Jill. The soldier was staring down the barrels of four different guns. He slowly backed away, half dragging Claire with him.
"I'm not fucking around," he hissed. "I will blow her head off."
"And in turn, you get torn to shreds," said Jill. "I don't think you're that stupid."
Chris however, was acting strangely. The S.T.A.R.S would have thought his temper would have flared, but it didn't. Instead, he was taking slow deep breaths. His eyes half closed slowly, then his left one closed completely. His right eye stared down the notches of his gun sights. The soldiers head was half hidden by Claire's head, but she was straining away from the tip of his gun.
"Just a little further, Claire." His arms were cocked straight out, slightly bent at the elbows. They were as still as rock. He saw Claire's face. She looked calm, but her lower lip was quivering, a unique sign of hers when she was frightened. His vision blurred her face, and he only focused on the half of the soldiers head behind hers. That was all that mattered. His finger tightened on the trigger of his Beretta, but not all the way.
"Just need to get the gun away from her head." He took a long step forward, and the man stuck his gun out at Chris.
"Stay the fuck back!" he screamed. Chris took his chance and applied the last hundredth of a pound of pressure on the trigger. The gun fired, ejecting the empty casing at a high angle. The bullet sailed down a few inches above the man's outstretched arm. It sliced a few stray strands of Claire's long hair as it swept by her head and entered through his right eye. The back of his head exploded, and he crumpled to the ground. Claire stood there, frozen.
The team jumped at the gunshot, almost firing themselves.
"Chris are you fucking insane?" Jill yelled. Chris ignored her and immediately walked to Claire. He dropped his gun and hugged her, cradling her head in his hand. She was still in shock at what just happened, and she didn't return the hug. He buried his head in her neck and closed his eyes. A tear squeezed out from one of them.
"I am so...so...sorry Claire," he whispered, shuddering. "Please forgive me."
Her arms slowly circled him. She herself was crying.
"It's okay..." she breathed.
