I think THIS is the chapter where I can officially say we begin endgame. Either this one or the next one. Either way, mark off the beginning of endgame.

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Doctor's Revelation

It was quarter to midnight when Dr. Isaacs arrived on the Delta compound via helicopter. It touched down on the edge of the helipad, occupied only by Four Six as it was going through refueling. The pilot turned the rotor off and let the engine shut down; they were sticking around.

Isaacs stepped out and looked around at the busy compound. National Guard soldiers were preparing the Humvees to move...into the city? Fat chance, their soldiers would prevent anyone else from leaving or entering...but then, looking at the heavy weaponry, maybe they would not be asking permission. Maybe Sullivan's threats really were the real thing.

How did they know? How could they have known? That was the thought that was nagging at him. He had personally requested his name be kept off the manifests involving the U.B.C.S; no point in confirming a scientist was leading the mercenaries, not when he also had his own research to attend to. Someone had to have ratted him out, but who, exactly, he could not say. Whoever it was, Isaacs would be sure to hunt him down to the ends of the earth.

He turned to his pilot and nodded. He would go in alone from here.

Being wounded sucks, Sam Arnold thought, wincing as the medic pulled the Compress bandage off to clean at the wound. The good news was that the wound had stopped bleeding; the bad news was that it stung like hell and made cracking his neck feel like his shoulder was being cut with a sharp blade. He could not move his head sharply, otherwise he was in a world of pain.

As the medic worked on him, he saw a man step down from the helipad. He was light-haired, clean-shaven, dark eyes sweeping around the compound. He was tall but not particularly well-built, and definitely looked more like the indoors type. He was wearing work clothes under a white lab coat...one that had the Umbrella logo printed on the breast where the name tag would be.

Arnold sat up. This was their guy.

"I have to go," he said to the medic.

"You can't, I'm still working."

"Then hurry up and patch it. I have a meeting to get to."

The medic shook his head, but Arnold was insistent. The man responsible for the assault on their men was on their base, about to be picked apart by Sullivan. There was no way he could miss out on it.

Maybe if he was lucky, he could get in a couple good shots himself.

Twenty minutes later, Arnold strode into the meeting room, a fresh Compress bandage over his wound. Sullivan and Riley sat on one side of the table, and the doctor sat on the other side.

"Ah, Sergeant, have a seat," Sullivan said, his eyes never leaving the new arrival. "We were just acquainting ourselves with Dr. Isaacs here."

Arnold had a seat, glaring at Isaacs, who stared right back. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently.

"Sergeant Arnold was in charge of the convoy your men tore apart the other day," the captain explained. "He managed to make it back with his men before you completely annihilated them."

"Ah." Isaacs sneered. "And you're my jury, I take it?"

His voice was full of bitter sarcasm, but his eyes showed fear. Pompous little shit, Arnold thought. Bet if he looked down the barrel of a gun, he'd shit himself.

"We barely got out in one piece, thanks to your mercenaries," he said, his voice full of bitterness. "One of my men is still on the operating table."

"A pity," said Isaacs, turning back to the captain. "But if you're here to throw accusations at me, then I'd rather we did this over the phone. I have a lot of work to do-"

"Yes, your work," Sullivan interrupted, sliding a file full of documents towards him. "I've been reading up on your work. Interesting stuff. I especially like the part where you authorize use of living humans as test subjects."

He watched Isaacs' face go pale as he opened the folder and saw its contents. Mackenzie had compiled for them a very detailed report, giving everything he knew, including photos and sketches he had sent over from his own archives. Thrown in were some overhead surveillance photos of the creatures on the ground from their own birds. And this was just the tip of the iceberg. Sullivan could only imagine what the hackers at Fort Meade could get their hands on once the report came in.

"How...did you-"

"You underestimate what the government can get its hands on. Especially when you talk to the right people."

Noted. Isaacs stared at the research before him. Christ, there was a lot of it here...the history of the company, the origins of the virus research, the recent developments in the research, the formation of the paramilitary units, some of their more recent operations...how big of a breach were they experiencing here?

"That's the thing with hiring mercenaries to be your military structure," Sullivan continued, spinning a pen around on the table. "The moment they get a better offer, they'll go for it. Even if it means betraying their employer for it. They'll say or do anything to protect their own asses."

Someone in the U.B.C.S had betrayed them? Possible...their loyalty only ran so far as there was enough money for them, or their lives were not in jeopardy. He would have to put a word in when he got back about dealing with breaches in security. Putting those men in line, and getting rid of the ones who would not.

Isaacs closed the folder and slid it back. He had seen enough.

"So," he said, folding his hands together. "You bring me here and make accusations on my company's research based on the words of a defective mercenary. Do you have any more concrete proof than that?"

"You know full well that all I have to do is get word of this to the White House and they'll have Umbrella's presidents in front of the Supreme Court so fast they'll get whiplash."

"And you think that will get them to spill their guts?" Isaacs laughed. "You clearly don't know Mr. Spencer or Mr. Ashford very well."

"No," Sullivan kept his smile up, "but I'm sure before long, they'll come to know me."

The tension was thick, as Arnold looked back and forth between his commander and this scientist. Could this little scumbag be pressured into surrendering? It was possible, but he had to assume the man had some brains. Right now, he was probably wondering if this was legal in a court case, this sort of manhandling, and whether or not he should have his lawyer present. Well, maybe they could distract him long enough before a Fifth Amendment plea came up.

"Is that everything? Because if not, I should be returning to my camp-"

"Oh, it's not everything," Sullivan replied. "You're going to tell us why you've decided to make the stupid decision to attack my men. You're going to tell me what possessed you to assault my forces when the entire city is trying to kill them, because of an accident your company is responsible for. And please, no bullshit. If I feel you're lying to me, it will only make things worse for you."

Riley smirked as he finished writing in his pad. Arnold now kept his gaze firmly on Isaacs, who clenched his jaw, weighing his options. There were not many; tell the truth and face the courts, or lie and face courts...and possibly death. Either way he lost, but would it be the easy way or the had way?

Isaacs sat back in his chair, sighing. He ran his hand through his hair. This was quite a mess. No one was supposed to know that Umbrella was conducting their affairs in Raccoon City; that had been the whole point of him working out here. Umbrella was supposed to come out on top at the end, announcing rescue efforts once the city was eradicated and then setting up safety measures to ensure this sort of thing never happened again...but all that depended on no one ever learning the truth. Well, that was down the toilet now.

How much could be used against them? Would anyone believe them? It was hard to say. He was a scientist, not a lawyer; legal matters meant nothing to him, they were beyond his comprehension. All he knew was that his life was in danger here more than his position with the company. So what to do?

Well, he thought, if they had to know, better they find out from him. Find out just how expendable they really were, in the grand scheme of things.

"Why are you here, Captain?" he finally asked.

Sullivan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why are you here, in this city?"

The captain exchanged glances with Arnold, who raised an eyebrow. What was this guy playing at?

He turned back. "Our orders were to protect the civilians from the riots going on in the city. We were sent in to quell the hostile forces and-"

"But why you?" Isaacs leaned forward, his hand hitting the table. "You are Delta. You're one of the military's best units. You should be in the Middle East quelling civil wars or hunting down terrorist leaders, but instead you're here. Raccoon City is a back-end American town. Sending the National Guard would have been the most the government would have bothered to send normally. That would have been all they would need to normally. But this has not been a normal situation, has it? So I'll ask again: why would the United States government send their most elite unit to some bumfuck town in the middle of Nowhere, America?"

There was silence at the table as the men let that thought sink in. Arnold was not entirely sure what to make of it. It was true that it had been the question on his and all of their minds since they were deployed out here: why them? This was so far beneath their usual work; it had seemed strange to send them out here when National Guard could have easily done the job. Hell, the Rangers could have handled it in two hours tops.

Of course, it had turned out to be a lot worse than anyone could have anticipated, but no one could have known that...unless...

"You were recommended via the tip of a government official that is affiliated with Umbrella," Isaacs went on to say. "The higher ups knew things were getting worse with Raccoon City. They knew we could not control a potential outbreak. So they decided, hey, why not test these creatures running around this city? That is why you're here. You and the U.B.C.S were sent in to be tested against the zombies and other B. that had been created."

"You set us up," Arnold realized. Sullivan's fists tightened.

"You were both expendable. Umbrella wanted to see how the T-virus handled against live combat-ready soldiers. The result was that both units were almost entirely wiped out during the initial conflicts. Not the expected result, but there you have it.

"But that wasn't enough. Delta and Umbrella soldiers were running around after the landing zone fell. So I thought, well, why not test Delta's strength against our own and see how they come out? So I used you destroying a helicopter transporting one of our B. as grounds for starting a little war in the city. And so far...well, so far, our side has been gaining a bit of a lead over yours-"

There was a loud crash as Arnold stood up, threw his chair aside, strode over and placed the barrel of his handgun to the scientist's head. He cocked the hammer back.

"My men got shot to hell out there just so you could run your goddamn tests?" he demanded. "We lost good men at that LZ, men worth ten times you, all so you could see if your science fair pets worked properly?!"

Isaacs eyed the gun that dug into his cheek. He gulped. One wrong move and his jaw was getting blown off. And he highly doubted their medics would waste their resources on him.

Sullivan's hand was shaking in his lap. Not with fear, however; with rage. His men had been sent out here to be slaughtered by Umbrella's monsters, and it was just so they could get combat data for them. They had orchestrated the entire thing, let the virus spread, and then order in commandos, all to further their own experiments. Was there no end to the arrogance this company had? Did they really think they were that above the law?

The situation had turned dire. If Umbrella had people in branches of the government, they needed to get word out to the president before disaster struck. This company was posed to do some serious damage to the rest of the country if left unchecked. They would have to act fast to ensure survival.

But in the meantime, he had to deal with Isaacs. "You're going to go back to your camp, Doctor," he said, and Riley looked surprised at this. "You're going to go back and let your company know what you've just told us. Let them know we know. And let them know that we are taking control of the checkpoint out of the city. The National Guard is going to move their convoy into the city and secure our men before the rest of the city is lost. Any Umbrella soldier we see will be shot on sight. No safe haven will be granted to any of them. Umbrella is to be considered an enemy of the state."

Arnold grinned. That grin faded when Isaacs sneered at the Delta commander.

"And what would the purpose of that be?" he asked. "Revenge? You'd stoop so low just for that? What could you want from it?"

"What I want," Sullivan replied, standing up, "are the rest of my men back on this base, alive, in one piece."

"Ah, yes, of course." Isaacs folded his arms, still aware of the gun that was pressed to the side of his face. "Delta Squadron, never likes to leave a man behind. At least, not since that one man...let's see, what was his name...Kimball, wasn't it?"

Arnold felt his heart drop into the farthermost bottom pit of his bowels as the old name left the man's mouth. He looked over to Sullivan, whose face was entirely unreadable but whom he knew was feeling the exact same thing. They were not going to like what this man was going to tell him. That name would not be dragged up again after seven years without a reason.

Isaacs knew that he had hit the right nerve, and that left a very smug, satisfied feeling in his chest, to have another one-up on them.

"Rather terrible thing, what happened to him," he continued. "You have seen him when they brought him in. He and his team had been wandering around the desert for days, terribly dehydrated, half out of their minds from hunger and fatigue. Our pilots picked them up and brought them in; our company had been doing research in that area and we happened to come upon them. He was ever so grateful-"

"What did you do to him?" Sullivan asked, and his voice had turned very venomous.

"We simply gave him an option." Isaacs shrugged. "He didn't think about it very long before accepting it. Seemed quite eager to join with out company. Even eager to tell us all that he knew about his former unit."

"Oh Jesus," Riley muttered, looking towards his captain. Isaacs sat back in his chair, finally letting his guard down.

"You'll be happy to know that he was very eager to volunteer for this mission. Seemed quite excited to see his old friends again. Who knows? Maybe he'll even pay them back for-"

WHAM! Next thing he knew, his face erupted in blood and pain as Arnold grabbed the front of his shirt and smashed his handgun into his face. His nose smashed quickly, blood pouring out of both nostrils and the new cut that appeared as his septum was shattered. His jaw felt out of place for a brief moment before his collision with the floor helped snap it back into place. He coughed and hacked up blood and a couple of teeth onto the floor.

He did not have a chance to get his bearings when the Delta sergeant again propped him on his knees and put his gun to the back of his head. Sullivan stood up and crossed over to them. He squatted down so that he was eye-level with Isaacs, staring hard at his broken face. Isaacs gulped; these were the eyes of a killer, not just a unit leader. He had pressed his luck too far.

"I'm going to let you go back to your camp now," he said, and this time Isaacs cringed at the sound of it. "And I'm going to let your people prepare to surrender to the National Guard when they get there. And you'd better hope to God I never see you again, because if I do, I will put a bullet through your head. Now get out."

Isaacs did not hesitate a moment longer. The minute the hold on him was released, he scrambled to his feet and bolted out the door, off to his helicopter, to hopefully make it back before the soldiers did and get warning out before they made everything worse.

No sooner was he gone that the mood changed. Gone was the animosity; now was time for action.

"Sam," Sullivan turned to the sergeant. "Get to the convoy and tell them to get moving now. We need to get that relief out into that city. We don't have much time."

"Roger that," Arnold said, and in a moment he was out the door.

"Carl, get Washington on the horn. Tell them Umbrella has people in the government. We need to find and apprehend them before they do something to take advantage of this madness. I want to know who suggested sending us out here."

"Yes, sir."

"Also tell them we have a former Delta operator working for Umbrella, one that's been missing since Desert Storm. Cross him off the MIA list and put effort into finding him. Kimball represents a significant breach in security. We have no idea what he's told them or how much they know about our unit."

"We also need to figure out if they've secured files on our men," Riley added. "If they have names, addresses, the like. Otherwise, their families might be in danger as well."

"Move. We do not have any a moment to lose. Get Sonar on that now."

"Right away, Captain." And Riley was out the door as well.

Sullivan's hands were shaking again, and this time they were to fatigue. He felt very tired. He had barely slept at all in the last three days, which had blended so closely together that they all felt like one. He suddenly felt thirty years older, a feeling he had not had in all the time he had been with the unit.

First the LZ attack...then the Umbrella assaults in the city...then the revelation that zombies and monsters were real...now the discovery that they had been betrayed on two ends, one from the government, the other from a soldier he had long thought dead. What more surprises could they possibly throw at him? How much more could he take before he completely lost it?

He just had to keep it together for another few hours. Until his men were out of the city and back at base. Then he would be allowed to relax.

The convoy was ready to move out. Arnold walked up and down to make sure every single vehicle was loaded up. There were one hundred and fifty National Guard soldiers mounted in twelve Humvees and four flatbed trucks, all armed with M-4s, M-249s, and Remington sniper rifles. Maybe some of them had seen deployment somewhere, or maybe they were all green, but they had the numbers and the training, and that mattered a bit.

Arnold moved to his Jeep, the one that had survived two days in the city and the only vehicle left mostly undamaged by Umbrella's bullets. Atkins and Lake were loading their equipment onto the back.

"So we're really going back out there?" Atkins inquired as his team leader reached them.

"You have objections to that?" asked Arnold, placing his bag next to theirs.

"Me? Kinda. I mean, we barely got out of there in one piece, now we're going back out?"

"Come on, man," Lake said, his trademark grin back on his face. "Where's the fun in sitting out the action? Delta's always first into the action."

"Not this time."

All three of them turned to see Sullivan approaching them. Arnold frowned.

"What do you mean, not this time?" he said.

"When you get to the Umbrella compound, I need you three to stick around and organize things," the captain announced. "Get the Guard soldiers situated, get the Umbrella scientists in one area and keep everyone under control."

"Guard duty?" Arnold could not believe what he was hearing. Was his captain being serious? "We're the highest soldiers in this entire convoy, we should be right at the front!"

"And if you didn't each have a bullet hole apiece, I would allow for that. But seeing as how you're all wounded, I can't let you put yourselves at risk like that."

Lake groaned. Atkins looked torn between relieved and disappointed. Arnold went right up to Sullivan, angry.

"You promised," he growled under his breath. "You said we were first up for this one."

"I'm sorry, Sam." There was no hesitation in Sullivan's voice; the matter was resolved, in his mind. "Once things are under control in the camp, then you can head out. Until then, you are to stand down in the camp. Understood?"

Arnold was livid. After this waiting, all this chomping at the bit to get back out there and save their men, and now once again he was being made to sit in the sidelines. What the hell had changed? There was something different about Sullivan's manner, he sounded almost fragile. Had Isaacs' revelation really changed so much?

Sullivan did not wait for an answer. He nodded to the other men and left, back to the control room to oversee operations.

The whistle blew from the back of the convoy. They were getting ready to move out. The Delta troopers piled into their Jeep; Atkins in the driver's seat, Arnold in passenger, and Lake hopped onto the back. The marksman turned his head over his shoulder.

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"What Sullivan says, I guess," Atkins replied, shrugging. "Not much we can do, I don't think."

Arnold said nothing. On the outside, he seemed like he was moping, furious with the decision. Yet Atkins had worked with him long enough to tell when the gears in his head were turning. And whatever he was planning, it was sure not going to be pleasant.

And with that, the vehicles started moving out. Atkins followed the lead Humvee, the feeling of dread in his stomach. He had barely escaped that city alive last time, had the bullet wound to prove it. Now he was getting as close to going back in as he possibly could. And who knew how bad the situation had gotten in the day they had been away from it? And he was driving back to that?

The only excuse he would have would be to save the other teams. But could any of them still be alive at this point?

Wirtz knew something had gone horribly wrong the moment the chopper returned and shut down. All it took was one look at Isaacs getting off the bird and seeing his heavily bloody face to know things had gone terrible at the meeting.

Still, she had to say "Oh my God, what happened?" as was proper. She was met with no response. Isaacs pushed past her and retreated into his tent, and that was the last she saw of him until the end of operations the next morning.

The National Guard arrived twenty minutes later. Wirtz knew it was them, at least internally, even though seeing them made her numb with dread. They had about four U.B.C.S men stationed with them, not so much for them as it is to man the gate going in and out of the city. The rest of them were all scientists with no weapons training and no means to defend themselves from attack.

The convoy parked itself in the middle of the camp, and the National Guard soldiers piled out. Their weapons were immediately at the ready, pointed at the scientists, who upon seeing them put their hands in the air to surrender. Two of the men approached Wirtz, who stepped backwards.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, though the crack in her voice gave away her fear.

"U.S. Army is taking over this station, ma'am," one of the men- a lieutenant, judging by the gold bar on his collar- answered in a authoritative tone. "Hand over the keys to the gate and all computers and information to us."

"You can't do that, we're in the middle of experiments-"

"We're also placing you all under arrest." Here the lieutenant drew smug satisfaction from seeing her face turn completely pale. "Gather all your people together in one of these tents, my men will make sure none of you leave until everything is wrapped up."

There was some gunfire. One of the U.B.C.S guards on the wall had taken aim at one of the soldiers and was immediately cut down by three assault rifles. His body fell off the railing and landed on a table, the weight upon impact snapping it in half. The other mercenaries were throwing their weapons down to the Guard soldiers that were aiming back up at them.

The lieutenant's aide grabbed Wirtz and guided her to the research tent where the rest of their team was being placed under guard. Arnold came up, weapon in hand.

"Isaacs has shut himself up in his tent, he's not coming out. Make sure he stays put and doesn't contact anyone," he said. Then after a pause, he continued with, "hey, listen, you guys have this under control, right? You really don't need us here, do you?"

"I'm leaving a platoon behind to guard. These feather merchants won't be giving us any trouble."

"So you don't need us here?"

"Affirmative. My men can handle this just fine."

"Excellent." Arnold smirked. There was that problem taken care of.

He left the lieutenant and approached his Jeep. Atkins and Lake were standing near it, waiting for orders. The sergeant hopped into the driver's seat.

"Listen, you two can stay here if you want," he told them. "But I'm not sitting around waiting for these guys to finish our fight. Our boys are waiting for us, and I'm not letting them down. No one gets left behind. So what's it going to be?"

I knew it, Atkins thought. Arnold was not planning to sit around and wait. He had made his choice. Now they had to do the same.

He and Lake exchanged glances. The marksman shrugged, smiling.

"Not really a choice, man," he said. "Just a way of life."

Atkins nodded, sighing. "Yeah, you're right." He turned back to his team leader. "Budge over, I'll drive."

Arnold smiled. He knew he could rely on them. Delta all the way.

This time they really were heading back out, as the gates opened for the convoy. But it was different now. With this large convoy at their disposal, any monsters out there would be instantly mowed down. And with them would fall the Umbrella mercenaries. They had the numbers and firepower on their side this time; Umbrella had nowhere to run but back to their base now.

And, as Arnold thought as he lead the column of Humvees and trucks filled with soldiers into the city, that was no longer a safe place to run to.

"Sir."

Sullivan looked up from the file on Umbrella research. Riley had returned from his job, but...something was wrong. He looked uneasy.

"What's wrong?" he asked, closing the file.

"The, uh..." Riley gulped; whatever he was about to say, Sullivan thought, it was not good. "The government responded to our calls. They know about the outbreak, and they know that measures to contain it have failed, so..."

"So?"

The lieutenant gulped again. Sullivan saw that the man's hand was shaking.

"So come morning, the situation will be dealt with...and the city will become completely sanitized."

He let the pause hang in the air as the captain took that in. He frowned.

"What do you mean, 'sanitized?'" he asked.

"I mean...come dawn, the outbreak will be destroyed...as well as the entire city."

Now Sullivan was standing. This was not good. When containment protocols failed, the only surefire way was neutralization. And that only meant one thing.

"What are they using?"

"One cruise missile, nuclear warhead strong enough to level the city and the surrounding forest for miles."

Jesus Christ. "Don't they know we still have men out there?"

"It's too risky, sir. It's been four days since the outbreak started and things haven't improved since then. The wall can only do so much. They need to neutralize it now before it spreads and we have a global biohazard on our hands."

"So I just sent a company of National Guard soldiers to their deaths, is that what you're telling me?"

"The deadline is for dawn, seven A.M. If they can be out of the city by then, then they're safe."

It was just past midnight now. So he had seven hours to coordinate his men and the National Guard soldiers out of the city. Considering their track record over the last couple of days, that would take nothing short of a miracle to pull off.

"We need to re-establish radio contact," he said, moving past Riley and heading for the door. "We need to do it now."

"We haven't figured out what's jamming us yet-"

"Then we find a frequency that isn't jammed. We have seven hours to get our men home. Let's get it done."

I admit, I was in a bit of a kick after the last chapter, which is why there's another update so soon. I might have rushed this a bit, I went and tried to add more to the rushed bits, hopefully we enjoy.

I'm really looking forward to next chapter. I'm gonna start working on it right away. Like I said, we are now on the road to the end of the story. Still a few more chapters left, but we're getting very close.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and as always, peasoup.