Coal looked at the picture of his wife that Ethan was looking at. It was of her at a retiring police officer's party several months before the outbreak in Raccoon. She was wearing a black dress holding a glass of champagne. Coal wondered for a moment where he was at the time of this picture, couldn't remember and walked away to the kitchen. Ethan followed him.

"If you don't mind my asking," Ethan began. "how did she die?"

Coal pulled two bottles of Miller Highlife from the fridge and Ethan graciously accepted one.

"You heard about Raccoon City, right?"

"Of course. The whole world heard about that."

"Well...I was a cop there before I moved here. That's how she died." It required no further explanation than that abd Ethan nodded somberly.

"Tough break kid." he said before gulping down some beer. Coal agreed and did the same. The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity before Ethan asked "Where are your guns, fuzz boy?" Coal chuckled and led him into the bedroom closet where he unlocked a weapons cabinet revealing a row of pistols; Glock 17 9mm, Heckler & Koch 9mm sub-compact, Sig/Sauer P226, Colt Commander 1911, and a Beretta 9mm, a Mosberg Model 88 Shotgun, a scope mounted M4 Carbine, an MP5 with reflex scope, and a sawed off tactical Remington shotgun. Ethan whistled with approvement . "Very nice, Mister Coal."

"Thank you Mister Rayne." Coal replied.

"So..." Ethan said with barely controlled excitement. "Which one is mine?"

"Well" Coal began. "the M4 and the Heckler & Koch is mine. Apart from that go nuts." Which you clearly are. Coal thought.

Ethan was all too happy to oblige, grabbing the MP5 from the rack, several empty clips, and boxes of 9mm hollow points. Coal grabbed the M4 and the H&K 9mm, ammo for mboth and started for the kitchen where he and Ethan sat and began loading up for war. They passed the time by loading up magazines with ammunition and Ethan told Coal exactly what slang British words, such as bollocks, or gobbins, meant.

"So," Coal started, sliding in another 5.56mm round into the M4's magazine. "if I were to say ' all of these rounds lying on the table were gobbins' the that would mean that they are lose items?"

"Precisely." Ethan said, checking over his various weapons and clips.

"Huh." Coal said inquisitively. Loading his last magazine for his weapons and standing. He holstered the H&K at the small of his back and cliped over a dozen magazines on his belt and in his shoulder holster. Ethan stood and pulled on his suit jacket. Strapped to his leg was a SWAT style holster which housed the magazines for the MP5. Coal entered his bedroom and exited with his briefcase and a duffelbag. Inside of which were the Remington tactical, boxes of 12 gauge shells, boxes of 9mm rounds, a first aide kit, extra clips for both the MP5 and the M4.

"Whats the case for?" Ethan asked, picking up his MP5 and inspecting it.

"I need something out of it." Coal answered, opening it and removing the picture of Katrina and himself, putting it in his inside jacket pocket.

"So, whats say we go and find a way to get out of town?" Coal said, slinging the bag onto his back and picking up his M4.

"My thoughts exactly 'Old Bill'." Ethan said. Both men positioned themselves on opposite sides of the door. As Coal reached for the nob he stopped and asked "Who's Old Bill?"

"You are." Ethan said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Old Bill is slang for Cop." Ethan said, getting annoyed with the American.

"Oh, clever." Coal said sarcassticly before opening the door.