Their Last Escape

by antihero276

Former S.T.A.R.S. Officer Jill Valentine unexpectedly meets U.S.S. Special Agent HUNK at the R.P.D., his extraction overridden. Pushed to their limits, they are forced to work together to survive. With only days to escape the T-Virus infested Raccoon City before it is destroyed, they are stalked inexorably from the shadows by a deadly Pursuer, intent on carrying out its mission.

19. Chapter 18: Golgotha

Jinero: I can confirm that no, he won't see her that way, won't train her as a successor. Jill will never join Umbrella and HUNK won't invite her to. They are on opposite sides, Umbrella and Anti Umbrella. And I don't see HUNK as the 'training a protege' type. He has very little ambition and is primarily a field agent/special forces, a team leader, not a trainer/instructor. Though he has trained at Rockfort Island with others, more on that later.

Rock992: HUNK would win effortlessly, and they both know it. Jill's good, had some military and police training, but HUNK is at another level altogether. Why I had their first meeting go down the way it did, him sneaking up on and grabbing her with ease. And why she is half afraid of him and half attracted to him, feels safe and trepid when he's around. Conflicted. He is an intimidating man, Umbrella's top agent/operative, a killer. But it's not about that, won't come down to a fight between them in this story, obviously. Despite being their best I wanted to portray what it cost HUNK to reach that level within the company, the burden of the legend surrounding him and growing. Also that he has no real official power within Umbrella beyond certain benefactors of his in the company looking out for his interests. Or what they think his interests are. He is not an executive or among those making the decisions for the company, merely a sought after, in demand agent carrying out their most difficult missions. An excellent, reliable, cog in the machine.

Reptiliator: Much appreciated. I liked being the first one to attempt a story like this one, give HUNK his due especially, turn him into a three dimensional character. Work within a universe with many characters and canon and put in what works, blend things together, fit HUNK into having a bigger role in the world. Have him play off other characters and personalities and grow, develop. Yes, had to get the Tofu reference in there somewhere, and it worked perfectly. Carlos struck me as a man who wouldn't appreciate the stuff, whereas Jill had a mother of Japanese descent canonically, and HUNK is seen at the end of The Tofu Survivor cooking up and eating poor Tofu. So I had fun with that, as I do other things to come between the characters. Stay tuned.

xxSnowixx: His POV's will return at some point, especially in the second half of the story. But I think it's as vital to see him from the outside as from the inside. Can't reveal too much about him until it's naturally time for me to. You can translate it if you wish, though I would recommend waiting until the story is over. I also do frequent edits, and intend to when it's over, going back to revise details, add, etc.

Akira-Hayama: I wondered to put the shoe on the other foot, give Jill the challenge, save him and protect him after he did that for her already. In debt each other to the other. And see that despite all HUNK can do, and of course the fact he will survive this story, as he does everything, I wanted to undercut the 'plot armor' by showing he isn't invincible. Has limits he is rapidly reaching. Running low on energy. This is the most difficult mission he's ever performed for a reason. Not all aspects of their relationship could be romantic I realized early on, or there would be no foundation, just eye rolling too much romance that was unearned, not deeper or more complicated as it must be. The other aspects are needed to get to the romance, developing feelings towards one another. Them working as partners against the infected, protecting each other in this slog through the hell of Raccoon City was vital. And of course Carlos's role in what's happening between them, even if he feels like something of the third wheel here lol because he is. Thanks as ever.

BradsVest: Much appreciated, I'm glad I seem to have captured the right atmosphere for the story.

Rock992: Hunk only jumped out an instant before Jill, both from the front carriage, and the train was slowing down a bit being off the tracks and grinding against the pavement. So by falling back by momentum after jumping out, Hunk was closer to the rear carriage when the train crashed. He landed bad, armored up or not, knocked himself out. The rear train exploded further upon the crash, wreckage of the train car beside him landed on and around him. Jill ended up in a safe spot on the sidewalk through luck of jumping at just the right time. Carlos is integral to the plot and will have more POV chapters, though not as many as Hunk and Jill as the story goes on. He is indeed an important supporting character, but that doesn't mean we don't have to get inside his head and see how he ticks too. The three of them are the central characters. And you don't have to worry about me being PC, I don't infect the material I write with such things. And Hunk is a murderer who has done evil in his service to Umbrella, is complicated, trying to deliver a bioweapon that could cause another Raccoon City or destroy the world, so dark territory will be trodden upon. I'll get into Hunk's head again soon enough. But overall Jill is the protagonist at the moment, this being her game/story. Hunk is the deurotagonist, Carlos the Tritigonist.

Evolution-500: You never know ;). Won't hurt her chances. Or relationship with him.

LuckyNumber1: Oh I'm sure they'll get more 'rest' in time lol. And thank you very much, it's flattering to hear people enjoy it.

Thank you all for the reviews, means something to me that this story has taken off the way it has. Can't say I was expecting it. On with the show:

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September 28th, 1998, 10:49 PM.

Living Room, Saint Michael Clock Tower, Northern Raccoon City.

The banging of their stained, dead, clutching hands on the door didn't effect her much any longer, nor their orchestra moaning of hunger, she had to admit to herself. She'd gotten used to it what felt like a million years ago. It followed her everywhere, even in the time of relative peace between the Mansion Incident and this outbreak... she heard it everywhere she went. She'd remembered the first time she'd heard their moans out in the streets below her apartment. Unceasing. Spreading through the city. It only bothered her in her nightmares, at least the ones in which she was sleeping. Sleeping nightmares and waking ones plagued her. For how motionless she was laying against the door... she may well have either been sleeping, as unconscious as the man she held, or as dead as the monsters moaning outside. Longing to tear them both apart. No, it wasn't the sound that finally made her blink her eyes, and return gradually to the present. It wasn't even the living agony in her hands and fingers, or anywhere else. It was the consistency of the undead hammering on the door.

They gnawed and clutched not merely at the door frame, but on her mind, and every thought. They would never get in this way... but they would never stop trying... and if not here, they would try somewhere else eventually. It was all they did. All they could do. As surviving was all she could do. She recognized she was not altogether different from them, she supposed. She was running out of things to live for herself... but... she hadn't run out entirely. She was still here... still had a chance. Necessity was the only thing left. Duty. To survive and to pursue Umbrella... as their Tyrant had pursued her. For the moment... they had shaken it. Yet, she could see and feel how easily it would be to succumb to her despair, and simply end it all. It would be easy... probably wouldn't even hurt. Yet... she was not weak. She did not quit... she never did... that wasn't her. She would not and could not give them the satisfaction of falling into despair. She had a reason, reasons to live. Her eyes rose blankly from the carpeted floor, and her swelling hand held Hunk tighter against herself, using him as a means to brace and bolster her resolve. Drawing off his vulnerability as much as she had his strength when he was conscious. She was fighting for him too, to save him... not just herself... and Carlos as well, if he had... no, he had made it. He was somewhere, and wherever he was, he was not dead.

She would not lose another person. She wouldn't. Not while it remained in her power to prevent as much.

Jill took in the room from where she lay, capable of glimpsing most of it, and discerning the details. She had barged into a living room area of sorts, based off everything around her. It was all antiquated and fancy... the decorations and architecture of the place, like those of the Spencer Mansion... but given it being the base of such an elaborate clock tower, and the history of the place she knew well, having taken the tour... little else could be expected. Not to mention it had been the Umbrella Corporation who had invested in the clock tower, revitalized it, among other places around the town. It wouldn't have surprised her if old man Spencer himself had it deliberately ordered it furnished to resemble his mansions around the world. The entire floor was finely carpeted, along with various separate carpets of different patterns beneath some tables around the well furnished and ornate room. The table closest to them was directly a few feet ahead, with a couple well cushioned chairs pulled up, one a single straight backed one, the other spacious enough to almost be a couch. A chessboard had been left atop the table, the pieces still in their proper positions, as though a game had been dropped in the middle of it. Just behind the larger chair and table was a wooden dresser or cabinet of sorts, not too tall, and with several small sections on it, each closed up. The light in the room was kept dim, but illuminated enough, part of said illumination the result of a trio of brass candle holders on top of the cabinet, still lit, though only about half way, while other sources of light came from the room's east side.

There was a painting above the cabinet, one of three scattered about the walls of the room, but Jill didn't bother examining the particulars of them. Also behind the couch, but opposite the cabinet, in the corner of the room, was a drop lid desk with a chair pulled up, and the lid down, along with a tall plant in a plant pot, each illuminated by a lamp attached to the wall beside them. Further along the wall were a couple of small white stone pillars, just beside a dark tinted glass door that led out to a balcony Jill was incapable of glimpsing from where she was. The small stone pillars were not the only pair holding up an archway over the glass door... there was another to the immediate right of it, while in the east south corner of the room, another wooden cabinet resided, though far taller and broader than the other in the room, far more upright. Along this same wall, almost right beside Jill and Hunk was another table with a richly crafted wooden chair pulled away from it.

On the surface of this particular table, illuminated by a small lamp, and taking up a great deal of it, Jill was not altogether surprised to find a old black typewriter occupying the space, fresh paper still within it, as though it stood waiting for words to be recorded. There was little else to the room... to Jill's immediate left, in the south west corner of the room, was another light, some small picture frames together on a wall, and beneath said picture frames, a storage box of sorts, shaped almost like a wide metal freezer. There was something about this town and typewriters and item boxes... they seemed about everywhere she turned, and for what reason? She had no reason to store anything, it would only slow her down... she had to keep on the move, not be doubling back all the time to take items from the same container. She was never in the same area long enough to do so. She'd rather keep all she had on her.

She supposed every town had its oddities... but on top of the town's love of puzzles, she doubted there were many others as strange as Raccoon City, even before Umbrella. There was only one other thing of importance in the tower living room, just ahead past the table, at the far end of the room. The door out, into another area, and the resumption of her task, of their evacuation. With that in mind, Jill's hand tightened on both Hunk, her Samurai Edge and the tower key she had found, the stinging forcing her back fully to attention, and she rose wearily to her knee amid the muffled thumping and pounding against the door behind her. She tucked away her sidearm and the key before grabbing Hunk's shoulder straps again and pulling him upright with her, clenching her teeth beneath her thinned lips at the pain that screamed from all over. At this point, she was done wondering what her next injury would be... all she knew was that there would be one... a theory she had on good authority to be true by now. Not much else had gone right already. Raising the larger man at last, she slung his arm over her shoulder and took his waist again, limping them forward across the living room. Accidentally bumping him into the table and tipping over the chessboard, which fell to the ground, scattering the pieces at their feet.

Their united shadows leapt about the room from the lights, and when she reached the illuminated door, she grasped the handle and tried it, to find it, predictably, locked. Releasing his arm, letting it fall limp around her neck, Jill fumbled with the key, before inserting it into the lock and twisting it, pulling it out at the familiar click. She opened the door partially, before moving her hand back draw her sidearm, then to Hunk's arm and hefting him forward again, kicking the door open lightly, aiming ahead. Discerning no awaiting threats, eyes narrowing, she continued on with him, passing through the frame... but as a precaution she took the time to close and lock the door behind her. She did not believe the monsters would get in through the first door... but if they did, she preferred a second layer of defense existing... because even if they got into the living room, they would give up on their search for her. All they knew was that she had went into the living room... after leaving it behind, they would be at a loss as to where she was. Deferring to that pale thing or not... they could not be intelligent enough to come after her further. At least she hoped. Shutting out the sight of the thumping door, and the rest of the living room, the muffled sounds they made, along with their moans, were twice as faint. She turned back around to find herself in a slight hallway... at the far end of which she could see another closed door leading off to the right... but she didn't focus there entirely.

A slight scent of rot greeted her in the room, but there was no shuffling or movements, no threats. The walls were lined with various paintings and picture frames, but Jill paid them little to no heed as she moved forward with Hunk, their boots thumping over the wooden surface of the floor. Stepping around the corner, she found herself standing before a very small library, or study of sorts. Closest to her were a pair of tall dusty old book cases almost jam packed with tombs and books, one against the wall, another connected to the side of it, and cutting off her view of the area beyond... but it didn't matter. She stood with Hunk, breathing harder at the exertion of carrying him... and glancing around her side of the room, she realized this place was as safer than others to settle in for a little bit, and try to help him regain consciousness... examine him for wounds, and treat them... and her own, at that. Another small table with a couple chairs resided in front of the book cases, illuminated by an antique lamp, as classically old as all the other lighting sources in the place. The table was situated over a dark red carpet of a floral pattern, and there were a few small stacks of books scattered around the floor, as though having fallen off one of the cases.

Jill stepped on to the carpeting, over to the closest chair, tucking away her Samurai Edge, turning Hunk around and again carefully holding on to his shoulder straps. His masked and helmeted head tilted back and forth as she did so... as slumped as ever, a rag doll more than anything. His breathing alone was the only company she had. She leaned forward, wincing at the continuous pressure and suffering she was putting her throbbing, swelling hands through... but she had dug her own grave on that matter. She settled Hunk down gently in the seat, trying to readjust him as comfortably as possible, before rising up over him, standing beside the table and peering down at him in the light, shadows flitting over her own features. She kept her hands loose and down at her sides, not touching anything... not that that helped particularly... the throbbing was only worsening, showing absolutely no signs of slowing down. Now and again her hands shook of their own accord, unless she was actively willing them not to. Still shook up, even as she was worn down.

For the first time, she truly examined them in the light... expecting the worst, and damn near receiving it. She sighed deeply... and with her basic medical training, discerned the details. Second degree burns... over much of her palms and the surface of her fingers... even a good part of the back had been burnt. Blisters were already raising at various points, and sections of flesh were pealed back, burnt off... even the sections not as badly off as others had gone pink, and was swelling just as surely as the rest of it. Hell, it looked as bad or worse than the damage done to her leg. The best that could be said, the best she could say in her judgement was that there didn't seem to be any third degree burns... nor nerve damage, based on the simple fact she could still move them painfully. But calling that good news was a stretch. She turned them over, examining the front and back... as well as further up her wrists and forearms, where further burns resided, though far lighter than the main concentration of burns, just scattered small sections of first degree burns.

Still... only a few small sections of her hands remained a pale white... as to whether there would be any scarification, only time would tell. Second degree burns could go either way. No matter what... they would be causing her hell the remainder of the trip, even if she tended to them here and now... and tending to them she would have to. As bad as they were, left untreated, like any wound, they would only worsen... and not only cause her pain, and slow her down... but only risk her losing consciousness again from the amount of pain building as she went along. Jill shook her head slowly, closing her eyes and lowering her hands again. She took a step over to the other seat, pulling it over to be just opposite of Hunk, knocking over some more of the books in her way.

Just as she was about to sit down, she heard the sound of footsteps running around the corner of the book shelf, and the cocking of a weapon from somewhere behind her. Ignoring the deep stinging it added, Jill drew both her and Brad's Samurai Edges in a heartbeat, spun around and leveled them at the figure behind her, eyes narrowing coldly. Although her heart had leap at the sudden sound, her reaction was automatic and fluid-like, her sense still sharp on the draw. Her fingers stayed still on the triggers, and did not shake in the least as she peered unblinkingly down the sights... at least until she discerned who she was targeting. Upon doing so, she drew in another breath, and released it... relief circulating inside her. She had been right about something... thankfully.

"Kept you waiting, huh?"

"Carlos! It's you!"

"You were expecting someone else, Supercop? Easy with the hardware."

Sure enough, his tall, familiar green and black uniformed form stood in the light beside the bookcase, his rifle risen not to his shoulder, but his waist. He lowered it the instant he too recognized her, tugging on and adjusting one of the straps of his backpack. Jill did the same action, lowering each of the Berettas slowly, and tucking them back away into their respective holsters. She took the time to examine him... noting that he looked and probably felt little better off than she did. His left eye was swelling, and he had received a jagged, bleeding slash wound across his right cheek at some point in the crash, along with various other deep cuts and forming bruises. The scarlet fluid continued to leaking down his face and over his chin... dripping into the front of his dark vest and tan pants, which were already stained with dust and dirt. He didn't look in the best shape, to say the least... but he was alert and standing.

It wasn't so much his wounds that alarmed, her, as his expression... the look in his usually warm brown eyes. There wasn't much of a trace of humor left in him, it seemed, no twinkle in his eye, or naughtiness as he had tried flirting at her before. Grimness was etched roughly into his youthful face, and combined with his developing stubble, made him look a little bit older than he was... prematurely aged by the things he had seen and experienced. It couldn't be denied, there was some obvious relief in him as well at the sight of her... and his eyes darted between her own, and over to where Hunk lay in the chair. His eyes moved back in her direction, and he uttered a steadying breath. Still, he was very clearly on guard, and getting to the edge... reserved, as he spoke, his accented tone low and steady, in spite of his disheveled appearance.

"Phew... well, at least we all managed to survive so far."

Carlos noted at last, his heart racing a little faster at the sight of the others, and he wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his glove, doing little to stop the trickling. Investigating the library, he had thought he could hear the muffled banging of the undead somewhere off beyond her, further in the tower... hell, he could still hear it, despite how faint it seemed to be. The ringing in his ears had mostly stopped by now, thankfully, alleviating some of the headache. He had found a dead woman behind the book shelves, former employee most likely. He had thought some of the creatures had managed to break into the library when he'd heard Jill moving closer, shuffling, and he'd bided his time for a few moments. Having heard breathing, he'd known almost right away it wasn't a zombie, and had to be a survivor... though he was beyond taking his chances, even if he regretted the necessity of leveling his rifle in her direction. He stepped over closer to both her, and HUNK's immobile form, before pausing, breathing again steadily.

"Maybe we can start helping each other again. Get the hell out of here already."

"Yeah, it's been rough going."

Jill replied quietly, her tone, in the wake of exclaiming his name, tired. She stepped closer to him as well, keeping her hands as still as she could as she moved. Standing closer to him, she felt another trace of sorrow, for how bad off he was. His face was already bruising... she wanted to take a cloth, wipe his bloody face off and tend to his wounds as she would Hunk's... but there were other matters at hand for the moment. There was still life in his eyes, even the swelling one... and hearing his voice again, hearing another voice after the train crash was more encouraging than anything. He definitely looked far more alert and tireless than either she or Hunk did in that moment.

"But it's going to be ok, Carlos. We can rest now. Figure this out."

"No. Getting complacent is the last thing we can afford right now."

Carlos replied without hesitance, his tone rock solid with disagreement, hand tightening around the handle of the rifle at is side. Despite this, his tone was fairly gentle, and he ran a hand through his dark, messy hair, breathing deeply. As much as he wanted to do as she suggested, simply stop and take it easy for awhile, lay down and rest... there was simply no real time to do so. He wanted to be far from the clock tower and Raccoon City, days ago, not stay a minute longer... and he knew she felt the same way. The sooner they could contact the chopper and get the hell out of the city, the better. He was tired... he could not remember other times being more tired than he was, just as surely as she looked dead on her feet... but he had slept long enough after being knocked out. He wanted to make use of every second of his consciousness in every way that he could, and already had a plan of action for such. They'd come too far now to give in to what they wanted, needed most. So close to the finish line.

"I'm sorry Jill, but we can't just sit around doing nothing. We're probably the only ones left. We need to get out of here, ASAP. There's no rest for the wicked."

"You're right... I know you are.", Jill conceded after a few moments in which she peered back into his swollen eye. She also knew better than to think he didn't truly want to rest... but that was neither here nor there. "But I am going to need a little time here with him. Hunk... I don't think he fared quite as well as us."

"Yeesh. No kidding. That's saying something."

Carlos replied wearily, concern flitting into his features... more of it, at least, joining the vast amount he'd already felt. He stepped past Jill and over to Hunk, leaning over him slightly, moving a hand to his helmeted head and raising it slightly, tilting his own from side to side and examining the man. He could see no outward wounds along his body armor... there was a lot of dust, and were some dried blood stains, among other stains on the dark body suit, along with his sleeve, but none of it was his own. And his helmet, while having a slight dent in it, was not broken, nor was his mask. It was strange and troubling to see this man like this... helpless. Vulnerable. No sign of the legend around him... how intimidating he was... just an unconscious man in armor and a mask. Something about it just wasn't right. And he doubted many people had ever seen him this way. Carlos felt like an intruder. Wanted to remedy the problem.

"Hello? Is there anyone in there? Just nod if you can hear me, Secret Agent Man. Is anyone home?"

He leaned in closer and listened carefully... as air escaped gradually from the filters in his mask... a slight hiss. The agent didn't respond to his prompting... but his breaths were steady and enough. Good... he was alive, at least. The agent smelled worse now than before, the putrid scent of smoke added to the sewer smell that had accompanied him from the moment he'd arrived. The smoke and sewer scents following both HUNK and Jill. But then, Carlos had to admit, by now he didn't exactly smell like a bed of roses himself. He glanced back over his shoulder at her as he examined the agent, speaking up again with a grim smirk.

"Figured he'd make it. Death can't die. Still... who would have thought jumping out a goddamn train window like a lunatic had consequences? Is he ok? What the hell happened back there? You know, other than the whole crazy, fearless son of a bitch routine. Stealing my manly thunder."

"What didn't happen would be the better question."

Jill sighed deeply, stepping over to Carlos's side and studying the masked man herself, pursing her thin lips. She closed her eyes as she thought back, her jumbled mind proving difficult to untangle... the danger and shock she had been in only making it worse. Gradually, it all came to the surface, and she found herself glad to release the information to another, so he could bare the weight that she was as well.

"After I jumped off, I blacked out, or something... woke up in a curb between the outer wall, and the road the train had crashed on. Got back to my feet, shook it off... and I uh... I looked over to the wreckage, and there he was... underneath some of it. I managed to shift it, before it was too late... but by the time I did, those... things arrived, detected us... followed our cable car. It was unavoidable I guess... we drove through the center of town... probably alerted zombies for miles to our direction. Can't catch a break, so why would we start now? I slowed down the horde, and dragged Hunk through the hole in the wall... but on my side of things, the train crashed through the bedroom of whoever owns the place. The door was locked up, leading into the tower, and I couldn't blast it down without them following me in. I found a key to the clock tower in the bedroom, thankfully, and made it out... lost my rifle in the process, but I don't think those bastards will be getting through. I suppose it could have been worse. It can always be worse."

"Don't jinx us, Jill... you know the old motto. It'll get worse before it gets better.", Carlos replied quietly, examining HUNK a little longer, before releasing his head, which slumped forward again of its own accord, and he rose all the way upright, looking over to her. He recognized that yes, they needed to get out asap... but they were not entirely in any condition to do that as quickly as he had thought they could. "You have a point, though. You should stay here in this study with him, hold up here as long as it takes to get sleeping beauty awake. We're going to need him and his abilities... being reduced to carrying him around will complicate things immensely."

"Agreed... of course.", Jill nodded to herself, gradually opening her eyes and meeting his again, taking in his own wounds. He looked rather distracted, withdrawn from the situation, his expression growing more troubled than before as he pondered something deeply. "But what about you? Are you ok? I thought you would have the time to jump after me. What happened to the front end of the train? Where did you end up?"

"I would have, but the train rocked and I stumbled. It crashed before I could. In the clock tower gardens... some kind of big courtyard just outside. Most of the front end crashed through it, and somehow I ended up off the train, and on the ground. I heard your gunfire back here, and came as quick as I could. There were some infected dogs and birds in the gardens, but I dealt with them... there could be more later for all I know, but for the moment the area there is secure. That's probably where the chopper will be retrieving us. I'm not entirely sure... I thought Nikolai would still be around while we were here, that he would tell us more about the details of the evacuation, either here or during the train ride. I don't remember him giving many specifics... like a time. He said something about... signalling a chopper... but how? Radio frequency? Hell, I tried the U.B.C.S. frequency a million times already, even the Leviathan and every other channel in this city. I would have gotten something by now if they were picking me up. It's a waste of time at this point."

"I don't remember him mentioning it either. I don't know what we should do."

Jill admitted agreeably, silently knowing better than him about Umbrella. She seriously doubted Umbrella was not picking up Carlos's attempts at contact, or any of the others surviving in the city. They had an extensive network of satellites, and top of the line technology. They knew what was happening, all of it. It was pretty damn obvious to her that Umbrella got their transmissions loud and clear... they just didn't care. The only reason the evacuation would probably work, when they found a way, would be because of whatever mission Nikolai had really been running. This was supposed to be an evacuation spot for Echo Team, but with potentially none of them left, they would be stealing that particular evacuation.

Of course... all of this was assuming Nikolai had not been lying to them from the start. Jill had a bad feeling about it... and wished she had interrogated Nikolai before his demise, for the information. But she had not even thought about it at that point. She'd had enough on her plate to be dealing with. Hadn't wanted anything more to do with him than she had to, after what he had done. Still... she had to acknowledge Hunk's adamant manner on the matter. He had been sure the clock tower was the place to be... had believed Nikolai's word... and she was more than sure that of all people, the agent was still in contact with Umbrella. She didn't like or trust the situation one bit... but she trusted him. Even if his reasons for escape were different, escape was indeed his highest priority. And he had made a promise to her. She shook her head slowly, returning from her own stream of thoughts and memory as she addressed his troubled voice.

"I'll ask Hunk when he wakes up. He'll know more about it than we do, I'm sure. His connections to Umbrella... he can get into contact with whoever he needs to."

"I don't doubt it. As for my condition... you can see it quite clearly. I can function... that's all that matters. I'll be fine.", Carlos murmured after a long moment's pause, he too returning from his consideration on the matter, his eyes lowering gradually to her hands at her sides, taking in the rather alarming burns running along them. He'd spotted them almost right away, even as she'd tried to hide them... but he had not been sure how to bring them up. Until now. "I can also see you didn't get off any better. Worse, more like it. Told you that you were playing with fire with the Grim Reaper here."

"It was my fault, not his. And nothing I can't handle.", Jill muttered shortly, not wanting to get back into that particular topic with him. Feeling not only the sting of her hands, but the sting of his eyes upon them, and she lowered them out of sight. "It's not a big deal... I have one of those medical sprays with me. A medical kit here. I'll take care of it soon."

"You're tough, but you're also playing tough, Jill. I haven't known you long, but I think I can tell you aren't being entirely honest.", Carlos replied disagreeably, shaking his head, and he elaborated. Forcing himself to stick to a particular topic instead of the one of HUNK. He could tell she wasn't budging on that, and Carlos wasn't in the mood to lecture. Especially not here and now. "I've seen men burned before in my time... I know how it is. Get yourself bandaged up after you use that spray. Got it?"

"If you insist... I promise, so long as you take care of those cuts of yours.", Jill shook her own head, finding a thin lipped, but genuine smile forming its self at the slight return of his good natured mood. He was forcing himself to show it... she knew it as clearly as day, but she appreciated the concern more than she could say. He really did have a way of lightening even the worst of times... she wished very much she could do that herself. "Girl scout's honor."

"Good girl... and I promise too. Boy scout's honor... not that I ever was one.", Carlos replied with a shrug, finding himself smiling at her rather lovely expression. Even with all her wounds, there was no diminishing beauty like hers. He looked down again into the bag and rummaged around, retrieving one of the many items he had packed, and drawing it forth from the recesses of the pack, before zipping it back up, rising to his feet and putting the backpack on again, adjusting the shoulder straps. With another smile of his own, he held out the item for her to take. "Here's a gift for you. Put it to good use when you get the chance. I had one on the train when I was packing, so I figured what the hell. Put this on."

Jill studied it closely in his hands, before extending her own and taking it, holding it up in the light and examining the military style bandolier, of the same olive green material as her shoulder straps and side packs. It wasn't just any bandolier, rather it of the variety that had many slots... made specially to hold shotgun shells. If it was the kind of bandolier she thought it was, there had to be over fifty spaces for the shells, so long as she proved fortunate enough to ever have that number of them in her possession. She was empty as it was... but as ever, Carlos seemed to be on top of things, including that matter. He would not have given it to her, she recognized, if she had not been able to put it to use.

"Now, just one other thing. When I'm outta here, and when HUNK wakes up, I want the two of you to go out into the lobby, the door over there in the corner... and recover the weapon and ammunition laying out there. I came across some other U.B.C.S. men... dead, of course, but I didn't have time to scavenge everything, and am running out of space as it is. You'll find that bandolier especially useful. Oh, and as far as your missing rifle goes... you'll be back to two primary weapons in no time, when you head out there and see what's waiting. Has your name on it."

"Thank you, Carlos. I can hardly wait."

Jill smiled tiredly at the idea of finally putting the shotgun to use, glancing down to where it hung. Equally intrigued by his mysterious implication about another weapon. He winked at her as he said this... and she knew he meant business. She raised the bandolier and began placing it on her right shoulder, attaching both ends of the buckles together with a click and fastening it securely into place around herself. As she did so, Carlos moved away from her, Hunk and the table and made his way over to the same door he had gestured to, that led off into the rest of the clock tower. She stopped what she was doing, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as she spoke, concern passing over her features and replacing the smile.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to explore the clock tower on my own... scavenge some more supplies, and clean out and secure as much of it as I can. See if I can find anyone left alive of Echo Team. Make myself useful.", Carlos replied, pausing in front of the door before his hand could grasp the handle, looking back over in her direction. She looked like death, in the light... pale and in agony... and more than ever, even as he spoke words to the contrary, wanted to stay with her, protect her. The lady who needed little to no protecting... taking both her training and her Grim Reaper boyfriend into the equation, once he woke up. Carlos forced himself to repress the instinct, and focus on his task. She was safe here without him, didn't need his help. "There's no telling how long we'll be here, and how many monsters there might be in this building. I want to get on top of things. Clean house. Maybe I can turn up some clues on how to get out of here in the meantime... and when Hunk gets up, you and him can do the same."

"I don't like this one bit.", Jill informed him seriously, looking back to Hunk's unconscious form, and then back to Carlos, her tone rather grave. She remembered precisely what Hunk had told her about his misgivings towards Carlos... and she was starting to see the agent had a point on that topic. "And I don't think he would either. You're being impulsive, and it's dangerous. We need to be sticking together, especially now of all times, Carlos, not splitting up and looking for clues. It's just us now. We're probably all that's left. You know that."

"I do... I also know that I can't just stand around here doing nothing. I've done enough of that already. And we have no way of knowing how long it'll take for him to wake up. With our luck, it'll probably be on the evacuation chopper out of here.", Carlos reasoned carefully, having foreseen such objections from her. He couldn't deny that she had a point... but he could not agree entirely with it. He had been a scavenger for so long in this battle, that it was about all he knew, and what he was best at... they would need his expertise used in the way he knew how best to use them. He could do the lone wolf thing, as well as he could do the team work thing... and right now, he needed to be doing things his own way. Hunk was in no condition to object, or give him orders... that could wait a little longer. "You have a reason to stay in here, to wake up and protect him, to tend to your wounds and his... I don't."

"I still don't like it. You're going to get yourself killed running off alone like this, Carlos. Please, don't go."

"You worry too much. I'll be fine Jill... I promise. Takes more than an infested clock tower to get rid of me."

Carlos replied assuredly, remaining motionless in front of the door a little longer, jaw tightening. He was a little humbled, and touched by her genuine concern... and he wanted to stay with her, really he did... but he had to ignore what he wanted, for what needed to be done. He hoped she would understand. But as he examined her closely... a thought and idea came to mind, one he hoped would go a ways in relieving her worries. Something that would help them both.

"Look, I'm going to keep my radio on and channel open. Mikhail... the Captain, gave you his radio before... well, you know. You can contact me at any time... we all have radios, if the time ever comes where we all have to split up, communication won't be an issue. You'll be fine here as well, I checked the area out, there's a dead body behind this book shelf... the woman who owned the place probably, but other than that and the monsters I took care of outside, this section of the place is safe. Ok, Supercop?"

Jill's gaze lowered to the front of her outfit, to the mobile radio clipped to her belt... she had almost forgotten about it. The last time she'd thought about it was when she'd regained consciousness... but after receiving it, she'd had nothing but distraction after distraction hurtled her way, and had not been given the proper time to consider it. He wasn't wrong about that, she had to admit. The least she could do was exactly what Mikhail had intended giving it to her... make use of it, talk to Carlos on the device later. She pressed the button on it, activating the radio, a faint bit of crackling static occurring as it hummed to life. Good, it was in working order despite everything. She looked up slowly back to Carlos, lips thinned together, for quite some time, before slowly, reluctantly, she sighed, and nodded.

"Fine, we'll try it your way this time, for now.", Jill conceded at last, knowing full well there was no stopping him right now anyways. At least he brought up a good solution for the very problem he created in leaving, a substitute of sorts. "On the condition that you check in, and update us on your status now and again, and we'll contact you to do the same. Is that clear?"

"As crystal, Supercop.", Carlos smiled through his pain and soreness, pleased with her acceptance, reluctant or otherwise. The last thing he wanted to do was to be arguing with her... they had enough on their plate as it was without descending into fighting among themselves. That and he knew damn well he couldn't win in an argument against her, and didn't want to try. "I'll see you two when I see you... good luck."

"And to you, Carlos. Thank you. For everything. Be careful."

Carlos rose his hand to his head and snapped off a salute to her... not of half sarcasm, as he had with the uptight HUNK before... but he genuinely meant it. She was as much a soldier as he was... or even more so. She'd made that more than obvious. Only now, that he had time to consider it, did he realize the steel of her nerves... marching head first into that rear carriage and opening up on the Tyrant... even he had not done as much. He had run away from it, when it had been his turn. She'd tried to save the Captain with all she had... she was more of a soldier than most people he had ever met. He wasn't entirely sure why she'd given up a career in the military, over police work... but regardless of her motivations, the town of Raccoon City had been lucky to have her serving and protecting it. Maybe if there were more soldiers, more cops like her in the the city it all would have turned out much differently.

"Right back at you, Supercop. Remember, we might have come far, but we ain't out of the woods yet."

She smiled at his salute, again a reluctant smile, but like his salute, one she meant... but she did not salute him back. That wasn't her anymore, she was no soldier. Jill watched as he turned back to the door and pushed it open, his eyes narrowing intently as he went back to business, and he rose his rifle to his shoulder as he stepped out into the lobby, the details of which she couldn't see from where she was. Apparently, it was secure, for he did not fire... but to be on the safe side, and in a gesture she appreciated, he closed the door behind himself loudly. Vanishing, save his muffled boots beyond the door... and before long, even they were gone, wherever else in the clock tower he was headed to scout out. Jill released a breath, and looked slowly back to her only present yet absent company remaining in the library.

"Well... just you and me again, big guy. Hope your dreams are better than mine."

With his departure, Jill and the unconscious Umbrella Agent were left alone... but, in Jill's case, feeling a bit better than before. Not in regards to the pain... and she felt uncomfortable, a lurch in her stomach at the idea of Carlos being on his own here... but having talked to him, knowing the three of them were still alive, for the moment it was enough for her, short of their looming evacuation. She examined her bandolier for a few moments and she found herself thanking him again quietly, before moving her attention on to the most pressing matter. Recognizing it was now or never, in regards to getting her hands fixed up, Jill moved one of them to Rebecca's medical bag, opening it up and rifling around inside for the First Aid Spray... not finding it within. Remembering in a flash leaving it on the train... at the medical station, with the kit she had planned to bring with them. Before the explosion. When she had somehow been naive enough to think their departure would end well.

"Damn it..."

Jill winced to herself at the realization, resisting the urge to rub her face wearily. Her eyes narrowed a little, and she let out a sigh of annoyance. Perfect... just too perfect. Now she could stand here on her own, simply dealing with the screaming agony in each hand, and do nothing but grin and bare it. Bandages and herbs on their own would do next to nothing without the medicinal spray also hurrying along the healing process, and disinfecting the burns. Burn treatments being among the spray's healing properties. Frustration overtook her features, and she wanted to punch the bookshelf in her anger... but had enough of her reason to recognize the futility of such an action, one that would only worsen matters.

She remained standing where she was, considering the matter deeply. She was tempted to call up Carlos on her radio and see if he brought any medical sprays from the train... but such an action, calling him back so soon would make her feel ridiculous. Like she couldn't even take care of herself, all but telling him how stupid she had been. Not wishing to add more of a burden to him than he already carried, distract him from remaining careful out there in the clock tower. He had monsters to deal with, she merely had burns. Fortunately, as she pondered the matter more closely, she realized swallowing her pride would not be necessary. As she recalled, some time ago on the train before they had all set out to gather their respective parts, Hunk had requested a First Aid Spray from the Corporal, and had tucked it away in one of his own pouches. Provided he'd not already used it up and discarded it, she doubted he'd object to her using it. He was in no position to object anyways. Her eyes rose to the front of his vest and belt, the various pockets and slots on each, and then they rose to his head, still quite slumped forward, still breathing quietly.

"Just need to borrow something... I'll put it right back."

She murmured to him quietly, receiving no response but his steady breaths. Hesitantly, a part of her preferring to bear her pain than go rummaging around in his pockets without his permission... she moved closer, and leaned over slightly when she stood in front of him, leaned closer. He would understand, she was sure. She hoped. She felt rather unpleasant doing so... like she was looting, robbing a corpse... though in this case, he was quite alive. The constant stinging of her scalded hands was simply too much to take for much longer. She checked his medical bag first to make sure he hadn't put it there, and sure enough it contained everything but a First Aid Spray. Closing it she started popping open some of the pockets on the front of his body armor and rummaging through, finding only various extended magazines, shells and equipment, for his TMP, slung MP5, shotgun and his strange, holstered high powered, modified pistol. A pistol she had never seen the make of before... was tempted to withdraw it from his holster and examine more closely, but moved on instead.

There were all kinds of items within his many front pockets, Jill discerned, closing them back up after looking around inside. Spare gas mask filters and parts, a field repair kit, night vision binoculars, a scope, an unusually designed silencer... a couple sky flares, his remaining Molotov cocktail, a small bundle of folded papers like maps and reports... a compass, the Bar Black Jack lighter she had given him. Looking at the lighter she was reminded again what a silly name for a bar that was. Why not just call it something sensible like the Black Jack Bar? It was just one more Raccoon City oddity that amused her, and that had growing up. She really did find everything on him but the kitchen sink, or rather the medical spray, in many of the pockets on his armor. Each discovery making her curious. Though none of it mattered compared to finding the First Aid Spray... which she found herself steadily failing to accomplish. Jaw tightening slowly at the continued pain.

"Where the hell are you?"

Growing more irritated as it went on, with her lack of success, Jill moved on closer to his belt, discovering a concealed pocket within the armor, just out of sight as the others. Reaching into it, her stinging fingers fastened around a long cool, metallic surface... undoubtedly the First Aid Spray bottle. Satisfied and relieved, she smiled a bit, and drew it out into sight, standing back up to her feet and examining it closely in the light, ready to rid herself of the deep stinging. No... this wasn't it. Not by a long shot. It was some kind of cylindrical metal container... sealed perfectly air tight. She turned it over in her hands... no longer caring for the pain, her curiosity overtaking all else. As her eyes moved down to the center of the container... her curiosity was satisfied, while her relief was replaced by raw horror, her eyes widening, blood freezing. A small area in the center was clear... Plexiglas or something as durable. Otherwise the sample would have already been smashed in the crash. Nor, she found, was it mere metal... rather, it was reinforced titanium. It was a sane precaution, given the contents within. A biological sample... and not the T-Virus... she'd seen samples of such before, in the labs beneath the Spencer Mansion... and knew their green tinge. This one comprised of a faintly glowing purple substance far deadlier even than the creation Umbrella had ominously dubbed Tyrant.

Destructive. Adaptive. Implacable.

"Oh my God..."

Golgotha.

Like their company motto, it was a darkly ironic named creation of a madman... a megalomaniac, if she had to guess. The Umbrella scientist Doctor William Birkin in his lab beneath the city, she remembered Hunk telling her. His equally repugnant wife Annette as well, no doubt using the Raccoon City Orphanage children as test subjects... Sherry's parents. The reason Hunk and the other elite special forces U.S.S. Agents had been deployed in the first place. And the major part of the cause of all this. She recalled, thinking back, at some point back in August before Chris had left... he had shown her some files and reports related to Umbrella, referring to a creation known as 'G'. He had told her the nightmare wasn't over. Warned her. She hadn't known anything in the way of details regarding the so called 'G', nor even how Chris had gotten his hands on the knowledge of it. His belief there was a secret Umbrella facility beneath the city... though one he had not been able to locate. NEST, Hunk had called it. That had been the last straw for him, the point he had to do something, to take action. Nowhere in the report had been mention of its purpose, besides another virus... nor who its creator had been.

It was only through Hunk she had heard of the true nature of the G-Virus and its development that very night. Him with his insight within the company... God alone knew how much he knew of what went on behind the scenes. How deep these things went, how much blood was involved... and perhaps whatever they were working on in Europe. Her thoughts drifted back to the apartment, in which she had confronted him, held her weapons on him, and had wanted to shoot him, even in the wake of his saving her life. The way he had spoken to her... the honesty, even as he did something worse than dishonesty. Gradually calming and standing down... unable to go through with it. After what he had done for her. Too weak. The journey between then and the present had distracted her off the G-Virus for the most part, even as it periodically troubled her thoughts. She felt nauseous, just holding the canister containing the deadly virus, now. What all this had been about. Why her city had fallen, and would be incinerated. She had never thought she would hold it in her hand... a burnt hand that began to shake.

The G-Virus... he had told her little about it, but more than enough. It possessed mutagenic capabilities... vastly superior even to the T-Virus... as well as regenerative properties. In short, whatever it infected, it twisted, and made far more powerful and contagious than the T-Virus. Created true monsters instead of simple infected with the potential to mutate further. Mutated much faster. What Umbrella was dying to get its hands on. She didn't know its method of spreading... for all she knew, it was airborne, but one of the many reasons Hunk and his unit had likely been wearing gas masks. She turned it over in her hand, feeling a mixture of fear and anger, revolted to her core... to be in the presence of such a bioweapon.

So... this was it? This was what everyone was dying for? What had likely caused the outbreak to begin with, or at least acerbated it far worse than it would have otherwise?

How many people had died to create this thing? On top of the hundred thousand lives lost in trying to gain possession of this virus. How many orphans reduced to test subjects, how many human guinea pigs sacrificed by the monstrous Birkins? Boys and girls their own daughter's age... younger. It was madness... all of it. Concentrated horror and death within an encased vial, within her fingers. She shook her head slowly, feeling even paler the longer she held it. She wanted nothing more than to throw it right back down into the sewer where it belonged, or better yet back in the fiery wreckage of the train, even if it meant having to push her way through the horde to get to it. She wanted to throw it on the ground and fire two clips in it from her and Brad's Samurai Edges. Destroy it in every way possible, anything to keep it out of Umbrella's hands. To refute that damn, condescending motto of theirs that left her bitter.

"Our business is life its self."

The T-Virus alone was potent enough to end the world if it escaped Raccoon City's Quarantine Zone. If they got their hands on this sample, what other hell would this spawn upon the earth? What other city, or country would be infected by this thing, and what even were the results of being infected by it? She could not imagine anything worse than all she had seen the T-Virus do to this point... but she had also seen enough to know that there were worse things in the world. Umbrella still existed, after all. Whatever it had done to the madman Birkin, whatever form it had twisted him into... would happen to others. There was only one survivor she knew of that had seen what it could do, and here he was with her... silently keeping his secrets. She wanted to pitch it out a window, and out into the street... anything that got rid of it, that kept it away from them... but as she drew up the strength to take an action to destroy it, a single other thought rose. Contradicting her. Giving her pause... and somehow making her doubt even a cause as righteous as its destruction. Quite related to the virus... and it was enough to freeze her where she was, to make her eyes rise slowly away from the sample and focus unblinkingly upon Hunk's unconscious form. Feeling a mixed pity and exasperation towards the strange, mysterious man.

"Oh Hunk... what the hell have you gotten us all into? Why would you get involved in something like this?"

Jill murmured quietly as much to herself as to him. Knowing deep down it wasn't nearly all him. She had chosen to work with this dangerous man... to get to know him a bit. Though... she hadn't chosen to feel herself growing closer to him as she did. Hadn't planned on it or wanted it... but it happened anyways. Her heart beating quicker still. If she destroyed the virus, and Hunk lived to found out... he would probably kill her... or be ordered to at least. She had little doubt about that... he was a professional, a soldier, with a job to do, and she didn't think even she would get in the way of his duty, regardless of whatever else she had glimpsed in him. She was fortunate thus far not to have done so. But not even the potential threat of that made her fear anything, or give her pause... she was quite used to the idea of her own death, for better or worse. She had only been afraid for a brief few moments when he had grabbed her from behind, hovered his knife over her heart. The idea of death had been a welcome prospect, at that point... in his arms... but it was not to be. He had spared her. Worked with her. Fought at her side. Saved her life. Protected her.

She could die if need be... sacrifice herself for a cause. But that was different. When it came to the deaths of others she cared for, on the other hand... she hoped she never would grow used to it. She knew the Umbrella Corporation... perhaps almost as well as he did. At least she knew what they were, if not everything they did. Even if he spared her when he found out... if he returned after all he had gone through for Umbrella empty handed... they would kill him. She knew that they would. He would have outlived his usefulness, no matter how good he was at what he did. That was simply how the company operated... it was so obvious it was beyond question. It didn't matter that he was one of their special forces agents... he was nothing to them, legend or not, stories Carlos had spoken of or not, he was expendable compared to the virus in his possession. But... so what if they did kill him? What did his life, what did one life matter compared to the countless others likely to suffer and die the moment Umbrella got a hold of the G-Virus? How many more orphans? Test subjects? How many if it escaped a lab, as the T-Virus had here?

There shouldn't have been any hesitance or concern for the agent's life... he had dug his own grave, he deserved to lay in it, working for who he did. She would sacrifice her life in a heartbeat if it meant stopping the G-Virus. But... it was not really her life at stake, was it? Sacrificing someone else was no true sacrifice. Not the way Umbrella did it. Throwing others lives away. The conflicted fear and anger coursing through Jill's veins told her that, demanded she destroy the virus. She wanted to... she wanted to for everyone who had died... for everyone dead in the photograph she carried, and the countless others she had both known and not known. Hell, she wanted to destroy it for those who had survived... for Chris, Barry and Rebecca. To spare them and so many still living on the planet from another potential pandemic. Having to live in a world where bioweapons like this existed. The sea of faces she didn't even know, over five billion lives. One life did not outweigh countless others who might die otherwise... logic told her that, all of her logic insisted it. The matter should have been clear... cut and dried... but it was not. It never was, for her.

Logic... was not morality. Was not difficult. Not the way morality was.

Hunk was not Albert Wesker... or Oswell Spencer or William Birkin for that matter. He had not created Umbrella or this virus to begin with. He was no corporation owner, ambitious executive or virologist. He hadn't betrayed or used anybody that she knew of... he did only what he was best for. The bidding of whoever had sent him. He was in the employ of truly monstrous people... like a soldier manipulated by corrupt politicians and bureaucrats sitting behind a desk. That's how it had always been, in the history of humans... of soldiers like him. He was a soldier to her, not a mere overqualified security guard, like she remembered him claiming. He served them, yes... had chosen to work with them... or had he? She didn't know how much free will one could have at Umbrella, or who he was or where he came from to end up here, now, like this. When had they sunken their hooks into him... and how? Had he been bought by Umbrella, raised by them, groomed to do their bidding? How old had he been when he started? What was in it for him, what did he get out of it all in serving them?

Her mind drifted to that burning apartment, where he could have left her to die... and back to the sewer, when the worm could have eaten, or done far worse to her. He had been there, he had helped her, saved her. Healed and protected her when he stood to gain nothing. They should have been even now, her pulling him out of the wreckage and protecting him, helping him along the way... but they were not. This wasn't something to be boiled down to a numerical equation of who saved who more. She had told him the truth... that she trusted him... promised him that. Saw another side to him. She cursed under her breath in frustration. She should simply destroy the virus and get it over with... but the turmoil would not stop... none of it did, and she knew it never would. He had said it himself to her. She was not like them... not like his employers. Had the integrity they didn't. For better or worse.

"Damn it..."

She closed her eyes firmly, hating herself for everything, hating her self doubt. What would Carlos have done? She wanted to give him the choice for her, and walk away... but she had never run away from anything in her life... except perhaps, from herself. She wanted Chris to make the call for her. Her partner always knew what to do. He wouldn't hesitate for an instant, and it would be out of her hands. She had stayed in the city, against all sense, she had stayed to help in any way she could... and look how far it had gotten her. It had been futile. Now she held the fate of countless lives in the palm of her burnt hand. Hunk could have shot her, the moment he had seen her at the Police Station... he'd quite clearly had the drop on her. Could have put his knife through her heart. But he had spoken... coldly, yes, but logically as well, working with her and the others, rather than taking off on his own. Cooperating. Compromising. She found it hard to believe he wouldn't earn Umbrella's ire for that by its self.

She knew much of that was necessity alone, more than anything... but it was not all that his decision had been. The times he had saved her, guided her in the sewer, helped her... he could have walked away, left her, and probably fared better than he had so far without her. Found a better way to escape. He hadn't... he'd stuck with them, kept them together, led them... and was invaluable. She didn't want to continue without him... and knew that if she destroyed the virus, she would destroy him and herself in the process. It should have been a worthy sacrifice... she would be willing to sacrifice herself for such a thing... but she could not sacrifice him as well.

His life was not hers to sacrifice. Her choice to make. To take away.

She did not know if she was right... or wrong, feeling as she did... but she knew she was damning herself either way, and countless others in the process. That her feelings and mercy had become a sickness. One everybody might suffer for. Hesitating where there should have been none. Allowing her feelings to interfere with what needed to be done. What he would almost certainly do, in her position. In a choice between one life and billions. Somehow, she knew Hunk would choose the latter without hesitation. His resolve and strength seeing him through. Her grip tightened on the titanium outer case firmly, the sting shocking her senses... the weight of the sample seemingly growing heavier in her hand... all over... a crushing burden. Gradually, her eyes opened on his unconscious shape again. And hated herself with the clarity that came to her at the mere sight of him, the knowledge... and the weakness she felt.

She couldn't do it.

Couldn't go through with it. Couldn't let him die, no matter what the consequences. She had no illusions... she knew every victim of the G-Virus, from here on, would be blood on her hands, each of them with more than the right to kill her. She was dooming the very people she had sworn to serve and protect... by protecting one faceless man she didn't even really know. A man working for the ones she hated most in the world. A man in part responsible for all this. They had gone through too much together... he wasn't her partner, as Chris was... but he was something else to her, here, in this battlefield. Something more, perhaps. Something different at least. Maybe she could have survived on her own, or with Carlos alone... maybe running into Hunk had caused her more trouble than good... but none of it mattered. He was here. They had met, in that police station. And while they resided in this city... struggled through it... their lives and fortunes had become intertwined. The faces and memories of the lost came to her as they did in her nightmares, calling for justice... as they would return to haunt her the rest of her life, however long that proved. The photograph, burned into her consciousness, and now into her guilt.

"I... I can't. I'm so sorry..."

She could take a life when it was necessary, to directly protect another... but she was not a killer... a murderer. Could not cause or allow the death of someone directly in front of her who was not directly and purposefully harming another, when she herself had the means to save him. She had to save him. Not just out of a debt or obligation to him... but to herself. She... found she cared for him. And then there was the oath she'd taken putting on the badge Irons had stolen from her. Serve and protect... even when black and white mixed and turned an unpleasant, pasty grey. She had sworn to serve and protect people... and he was one of them, no matter who he really was under all that armor. She didn't have the badge, but she was still herself... a cop. She had to judge the situation on a case by case basis as best she could... and do what needed to be done. This was it. She despised herself, was more disgusted now with herself than she was with the virus... but she did what everyone had to do at one point or another in their lives. No matter how difficult. No matter how much she hated herself for it. How much she already regretted it.

She made a choice.

Jill studied the destructive purple liquid glowing within the canister a moment longer, etching it forever, like so many other things, into the stream of her memory. Another nightmare for when she next slept. Then she leaned forward again over Hunk, trembling, burnt hand inserting the sample back safely within the concealed pouch, and closing it up again, before drawing back partially. Willing herself not to retrieve it again... forcing herself to live with the choice she had just made. She felt dead inside now... as dead as the others walking around outside. The sensible thing to do would be to join them out there... but she could not remember the last time she had done something sensible. She was culpable in all this now... felt dirty. Corrupted. Guilt twisting her from within. Wondering what her team members... her partner would say to her if they knew. The betrayal she had just committed. She was culpable in whatever would happen when the virus escaped Raccoon City. Just as she'd kept his secret so far, and tried to get closer to him. To open him up. What the hell was she doing? What was she becoming? All over a man she didn't know. A stranger who frightened and attracted her... working for the enemy. It wasn't right... none of it was... but she couldn't kill him. Couldn't let him die.

Not after everything.

She slowly peered down at Hunk's quietly breathing form... closing her eyes for a few moments to try to gather herself. When she opened them again, she did not search further for his First Aid Spray, by now almost having forgot it and the stinging. Her eyes touched his mask instead... her pale reflections in the red lenses. Another thought coming to mind. This was the least he owed her... the right to know the face of the man she had saved. Was allowing to hold on to that virus. To etch it into her mind and remember what was almost certainly a mistake, as she had done to the sample. He owed her... this and more. He owed her his life, as she owed him is. The least they could do was be honest with one another... bound up together in this horrific moral dilemma. Slowly, she took either side of Hunk's helmeted head and leaned it back in the chair, forcing it not to slump forward again... and her eyes traced the surface of his mask. She had made another choice, nearly as difficult as the first. Carefully, she extended her trembling hands, leaning in her head closer, heart racing quicker with anticipation the closer she got. Her fingers brushing against the surface of his mask, looking for the strap upon his neck concealed by the material of the undersuit, prepared to undo and remove it. Ready to see the man she had saved. The man who had both saved and damned her. Sate her growing curiosity.

But it was not to be.

Something powerful fastened tightly around each of her burnt wrists and squeezed, pausing her fingers and sending another stinging pain through her forearms. She gasped, her heart leap up in her throat as she looked down, to find each of his gloved hands holding her fast. She drew in a sharp breath, and looked up at him again, peering back at her paling reflection in each of his red lenses... and she knew by extension, she peered into his open eyes hidden away beyond them. She remained entirely silent, assured she had been caught in the act... but like her, he said nothing... merely rose a bit higher on the seat, no longer slumping... and studying her. Or more accurately, studying her hands, raising them slightly. She could feel his eyes moving over them, no matter how hard it was to discern details from his movements. His muffled breaths breathed a bit deeper through his mask as he studied her.

The clock tower began to chime, then. Its great sound emanating through the bowels of the entire building, pausing Hunk and her where they were, still looking to one another. She glanced to the ceiling the muffled sounds emanated from, the mighty building rumbling it almost felt from the sounds. Then down to her watch to find the clock had struck eleven, listening to it chime as many times, before it fell silent again. And her eyes rose to her frightened, guilty reflections in his lenses again. Her voice trapped within her throat, words unable to escape any more than she could his hold.

Jill half expected him to kill her where she stood the instant the clock stopped chiming, in one of the many ways she knew he could. He was... a dangerous man. She had seen what he could do. An artist on the battlefield. The way he moved and fought. If she tried to resist, it would be in vain. She knew that already since they'd met. She was almost certain that the moment he released her left wrist with his right hand, he would draw his sidearm... part of her screamed to draw her own in a futile hurry... but he made his intent clear too quickly. That, and she was too startled, both by the suddenness with which he had grabbed her, and what he started to do. He continued holding her left wrist, but the tight grip slackened, and he reached into one of the front pockets Jill had missed, slipping out the First Aid Spray she had been looking for. In silence, save his slight muffled breathing, and the light spray of the nozzle when he pressed it, he tended to her burns. He started with her right hand and wrist, applying a decent amount of spray to every section that had been burnt, and addition spraying to the worse off areas.

The instant the cool stream of medicinal spray touched her, she winced, tightening her jaw, but refrained from letting the pain win out, not making a sound. He took care of the burns on her left hand and wrist, next, his touch, even through his gloves, was gentle. Ensuring every burn got enough spray, and at no point through it did he hesitate as he examined her grotesque burns and rising blisters, whereas by contrast, she did not want to look at them. When he was done spraying her fingers, palms, back of her hands, wrists and forearms, he set aside the bottle back within its original pouch on his vest, before opening his medical bag, bringing out a roll of military bandages from within and holding out his open palm for her to give him her hand again. She looked between her hand, and it, heart racing faster... and she couldn't resist. Could scarcely even breath.

Gradually, she moved her right hand over to it, and he began to unroll and expertly wrap the bandages securely around her, starting at her forearm where the burns were the lightest, and working his way up to the worst places. He stopped just short of wrapping up her burnt, spray coated fingers, before tying up the bandages tautly. Jill watched it all throughout in numbness... waiting for the moment in which he brought up what she had done, reaching for his mask, rummaging through his outfit... lifting the viral sample. Threatening his mission. For all the weapons she carried and her training, she felt like a little girl caught red handed. Literally. How long had he been conscious for? What had he seen? Her fear, paranoia and guilty conscience ate away at her, and she glanced now and again to the location of his sealed pouch... seeing the virus sample within it, in her minds eye. Surely if he had seen what she did, he would have stopped her from taking it. Would have seized her sooner than he had. And yet... he didn't bring any of it up. She didn't know whether he'd speak again, he was so quiet... but as he started carefully wrapping up her left forearm and wrist, moving to her hand, he did so.

"We have reached the clock tower, then. A library. Where is Oliveira? What has occurred in my absence?"

The Umbrella Agent's tone seemed no different than it had been before the crash, calm, low and muffled. Not even groggy or tired seeming in the least, to compliment his almost robotic, calculated movements. He spoke to her, addressed her and the situation, without even looking back into her eyes, focusing solely on her hand as he finished bandaging it. Somehow, she sensed the armor within him had returned... blocking out the pain and exhaustion he must have been feeling. She remembered catching a glimpse of it on the train, but now he hid it again entirely. She answered him quickly, clearing her throat.

"He's alive too... he ended up in the clock tower's courtyard, separated from us... I met up with him not long ago. He's investigating the place without us, cleaning out any of the monsters that might be in the area and looking for supplies. We can call him by radio, if needed. You were... still unconscious, when I woke up. I dragged you out of the wreckage, and brought you here to safety. Away from the horde of monsters."

"I can hear them. Jumping from the train was a miscalculation. I misjudged the train's velocity. And I did not take into account that the wall was not as dense as I believed it. Searching for the emergency break, as you suggested, would have been the wiser course of action. The one we should have taken. The consequences are my responsibility. In following me, I see you also made a miscalculation."

"What? Saving you?", Jill asked, a little startled by his words, following his look towards her hands again as he worked. "That wasn't a miscalculation. I chose to do it. Wanted to."

"Hmm. Make that two miscalculations then, Valentine."

Jill studied his lenses closely, uncertain of what he meant, as he finished bandaging her hands, fastening it securely into place, and tucking away the remaining bandages into his medical bag. Without a word, he extended his hand out to her front belt, and as she had done with him, retrieved something from one of her pouches that had been tucked away, holding them out in front of her loosely. Jill uttered a low, defeated groan as she glimpsed what he had retrieved, utterly mortified when they stood out in the light, instantly beating herself up mentally over it. She rubbed her face tiredly, then shook her head slowly... and after a few moments, finally took the pair of dark gloves he had given her on the train before everything there had gone to hell, staring down bitterly at them. Just one more of her million mistakes and bad choices since the start of everything. God damn it all. She'd put herself through needless torment... as usual.

"I forgot about them... how in the hell did I forget? Oh God..."

"Easy to miss what is in front of you. You had numerous valid reasons to."

"There's no reason good enough for something this stupid.", Jill sighed exhaustively with a dismissive wave of her hand, putting on both gloves carefully, concealing her burned fingers and much of the bandages as she did so. She was late to wearing them... but even she had to concede, it was better late than never. They could serve as an extra layer of protection, like her sweater on her bandaged leg... even if she'd have been better suited just putting the damn things on before this all had started. She could have slapped herself, for how stupid she felt. The stinging pain was at least a bit numbed by the layers... but replaced by a throbbing ache. "I could have avoided all this if I had... if I had just thought it through. I panicked. Lost my head. When I saw you in that wreckage... I just...-

"It's done. The past cannot be altered. No matter how much one might wish to. We're still alive. That's all that matters. You'll be fine."

"Oh, I'll be fine? Just like that? Well when you put it like that, that takes a heaping load off my mind.", Jill replied a trace sarcastically, rolling her eyes at his straight forwardness on the matter. Her hands and forearms continued to sting beneath the bandages painfully. It would be a little while before the First Aid Spray worked its medical 'magic', and actually started helping her out. Still... as much as she hated to admit it... she appreciated having him back, as opposed to his unconsciousness. His clarity welcome. He was, and had been from the start, utterly reliable. Stable. They needed that now more. Needed him at his best. Where before she had been frightened of him... in almost an instant... she felt safe again with him already, somehow. Even after what had just happened. "Glad to have you back to keep things in perspective, especially this close to the end."

"Someone has to."

"And someone needs to take care of you. You need to be examined for wounds. Treated."

"I will not require medical attention. My doctor will tend to that when the mission is completed. I have cost you enough time, effort and risk as it is."

The U.S.S. Agent's steady tone was resolved... though not unkind. Genuine. Not wishing to impose more trouble than he seemed to feel he had. Nonetheless, she felt a stab of bitterness towards his doctor at the mention. Getting to treat him, while she could do nothing for him. Take care of him, the way he had her hands and her legs, her cuts. She wanted to be the one to return the favor... to protect him more, as he had her. But... it was clear she had no choice in the matter. He didn't need her help anymore... or desire it.

"Fine. If you insist, 'Secret Agent Man'."

Jill replied with a mock stern look, forcing herself not to sink into the floor with humiliation. She wanted to do that, plus sit down and laugh and cry at the utter foolishness on her part, but she held on to that stern air for a bit, feeling nothing less than sheer embarrassment. She had to ignore the flush in her face she felt, the warmth creeping up her bruised neck... but knew damn well he saw it just fine, any red on her pale face would stand out from a mile away. She raised an eyebrow slightly, studying him again carefully.

"In your expert analysis of the less than pleasant situation we find ourselves in... what do you think our next best course of action is?"

"You mentioned that Oliveira is securing the clock tower?"

"Yes, I did. What about it?"

In a flash of movement, not of Hunk's entire body, but solely of his arm, the U.S.S. Agent seized the dagger knife off the front of her shoulder strap and drew it from the sheath. Jill reacted quickly, dodging aside instinctively, her heart all but seizing at the violent, rapid suddenness with which his senses had recovered. The glinting, razor sharp blade slashed and flew through the air. Fear exploded in her chest, her heart spasming. But no pain came. Was she in shock? No... it took her a few moments to realize that she was not the target... though her hand did lower to her sidearm and grasp it. Eyes slowly following the direction of his head and risen arm. As he lowered his hand back down to the table, resting it on the surface, she understood his intent quite well. The long blade of the dagger knife was embedded into the side of a tattered, rotting old woman's head as she stood at the corner beside the book case, in the same spot Carlos had earlier. She remembered him mentioning a body back there. She had smelled some rot the moment she'd entered the library, but hadn't given it much consideration.

She had thought... for a second, Hunk was aware of her handling the G-Virus, and was going to kill her. Even trusting him... she had thought he would, and only felt all the more foolish, vowing never to bring any of it up. Though surely she must have reeked of guilt and hiding something, the way he'd looked at her. Recollecting her senses, and lowering her gloved hand from her holster, she watched as the infected thing's jaw snapped uselessly open and closed, blood pouring from the knife embedded in its temple. It tried to moan, but managed no more than a gurgle, more blood coming up from its mouth and rushing down the front of its faded blue dress, staining it deeply. Stepping backwards a couple times, away from the case, the twitching thing promptly fell backwards, in front of a door beyond the bookcase, and lay there, still squirming a few seconds longer. Twitching... before going both silent and motionless at last, not rising again. Leaving Jill frozen where she was, his determined, calm voice speaking in front of her.

"He isn't doing much of a job of it."

Before the thing had even dropped to the ground, as Jill watched it truly die, Hunk was already rising to his feet from the chair, adjusting his vest and shoulder straps accordingly. Drawing his TMP, snapping on the laser sight and holding it in one hand, inspecting it for any damage in the crash. He seemed satisfied, for before long, he lowered it to his side, and looked over in Jill's direction. She met his stare when the zombie was dead... and despite what he had just gone through, how long he had been unconscious, the crash, he stood tall and stiffly as a statue, otherwise showing no signs of being in obvious pain or vertigo. Repressing it most likely, and taking charge once more. The authoritative tone she had missed washing over her again. Commanding her.

"Recover your knife, so we can resume the mission."

For a moment she stared at him silently, recovering herself from her shock, heartbeat slowly balancing out. She wanted to tell him to sit down again, that he wasn't fully recovered from his ordeal... but the leader had returned. The figure she had met at the police station. Implacable. Unbreakable... even after she had seen him so vulnerable. At the flip of a switch, it seemed. Hiding any weakness again. And she knew there wasn't any arguing with him now... that he was resolved. Set on his course... their escape, above his own health.

"Sir, yes sir."

She murmured reluctantly with a sigh. As Carlos had done to her... Jill snapped off a salute, a sarcastic, yet tiredly amused one, and she strolled across the carpet, over to the book case, and to the body. Despite how obviously dead the former woman now was, Jill was taking no chances if that jaw decided to start snapping again. She pressed a boot down on its neck, pinning it to the floor, before grasping the handle of the blade and sliding it out of its leaking skull. As it turned out, her precaution was not needed... but the day she stopped taking precautions in a place like this was the day she died.

Standing where she was, she was able to glimpse the space behind the bookcases that she not been able to earlier... where Carlos had popped out on her. There wasn't much, other than a desk, some lights, and spread open books on the surface of said desk. Though it was enough to indicate they were in a combination of a library and study of sorts. There was a puddle of blood behind the bookcase, where the former lady had been laying, she supposed... but none of it interested her, compared to the door the creature had just fallen in front of. Kicking aside the infected corpse, away from the door, Jill examined it, to find door frame on the side broken... its knob riddled with bullets.

Sure enough, there were a few spent brass casings already on the carpet close by... and the door was ajar, no more than a few inches, leaving her unable to see what was beyond. Etched under the key hole was a strange design of sorts... a figure of a bearded old man, that she took a few moments to recall from a long time ago. It had been years since she'd brushed up on Greek mythology... but given the symbol, and given the fact they stood in an old clock tower of such rich history, she was all but certain a symbol of Chronos, the God of Time, had been put there. She considered it absently, wiping her bloody knife off on the corner of the door before sheathing it again.

It wasn't necessary... but she was curious, taking out her key from her pocket, and placing it into the bullet ridden lock of the already partially opened door, twisting and turning it. The lock did not extend... the key in her possession didn't work on it, and she tucked it back away into her side packs. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for a building to have more than one key... considering the overly elaborate, convoluted locking system at the R.P.D. If she had to guess the door had probably required a different key than the one in her possession, hence the broken door. Whoever had breached the door had been impatient, and for the best possible reasons. Someone who preferred said approach rather than going on a scavenger hunt around a strange place for an item they may or may not ever find.

Cutting the Gordian Knot, like Hunk had done back at City Hall. She admired the approach, but it also irritated her a bit. How little she had been able to put her lock picking skills to use since she set out from her apartment. Since recovering them from her desk. She hoped to get the chance to show him what she could do, at some point. His low, calm voice spoke up again then through the gas mask, his lenses studying the door.

"I take it we will be proceeding through here?"

"No. I don't think so. Not yet at least... we can check inside later if need be.", Jill replied after a moments consideration, sensing him behind her. She had not heard him move silently to her side, but nor she found was she surprised or startled by it any longer. She felt at ease, comfortable now when he did it. She turned away from the partially opened door and back to him, eyeing his mask intently, and gesturing off to the side of the library to the other door Carlos had gone through already, and Hunk's lenses tracked her gesture. "Carlos suggested we head out into the main lobby, apparently there's a dead U.B.C.S. mercenary out there with some ammunition and supplies we can recover. Must have been part of Echo Team. Maybe then we can figure out where to go next afterwards. Sound good?"

"Good enough, Valentine. Lead on."

"Gee... I'm honored."

Jill replied a little dryly, but not unkindly, flexing her gloved hand, in spite of the pain. She drew her Samurai Edge, leaving Brad's in the other holster, and she strolled away from the broken door, and over to the closed, intact one. Hunk followed her over to it, his TMP still down at his side. He walked slowly, and a little more stiffly than he had before the crash... but she was not surprised. She wanted to stop and give him a proper checkup and examination... there was no telling the pain he was in, and exhaustion... it was damn near a miracle he was still going, that he had shaken off what he had. But she knew just as well that he wasn't having any of it. He was as stubborn, or more so than Carlos... and she knew only Rebecca would be able to force a medical checkup on both men. She doubted even Hunk would have been able to refuse the stubborn, tiny young doctor. Doctor's orders. The image of their completely contrasting figures raising a smirk to Jill's face for an instant. She raised her Samurai Edge, and with her other hand grasped the handle, ignoring the pain, twisting it, but before pushing open the door, glanced back at his mask from over her shoulder.

"Right this way then, 'Secret Agent Man'."

"On your six, 'Supercop'. Tread lightly now."

Her pulse quickened at that, not knowing if the warning pertained to the monsters... or to him. If it was a warning, a threat, or both. His voice was as unreadable saying it as his face was. Jill merely nodded grimly at the masked agent, and turned back fully to the door. Drawing in a breath, ready for anything that might occur, she pushed open the door and moved out of the library, into the lobby, holding her pistol in both hands, sweeping the vicinity carefully. Hunk followed after her closely, raising his TMP and stepping outside with her... before grasping the handle as well, and closing the door in their wake, shutting out their view of the study, and moving on to the next area of the clock tower. Jill forced aside again what had happened with the G-Virus, shunting the image of the sample to the back of her mind as best she could. She could afford to torture herself over her poor, possibly catastrophic decision later. Just not now... while he was counting on her... in the midst of this outbreak. A tower potentially crawling with monsters. One outbreak at a time. She felt his eyes watching her back as she moved... and again couldn't help but wonder what he knew. What he had seen. When he had woken.

The red laser sight was flashing around in a protective shield about her again, a perimeter... as it had been in the sewer... had been since they crossed paths. Yet half of her felt safe standing within it, while the other half felt dread. Paranoia still threatening. How long before the order came through on his radio to kill her? Would he obey it or not? If he could obey the orders to retrieve something so destructive, regardless of what it had caused... what was one woman's life to him? Surely not what one man's life had ended up meaning to her. She had seen the hesitation in him... the human moments, gaps in the icy armor... but was it enough? Or did the ice run too deeply to unthaw? In his very blood? She remembered Carlos's warnings about him. She didn't know the truth... but she had made her decision, in regards to him. And knew she would have to live with it. However long that would end up proving. It was out of her hands now... and she felt as though she had fallen back into his strong, intimidating, powerful pair. Part of her wanted to close her eyes as he held her and keep trusting him, let go. Another part of her feared them locking around her throat again. She shook her head tiredly, and looked over to the main floor of the clock tower's lobby.

It wasn't far now... they just needed to keep moving, and everything would be alright. It had to be. Not even this hell could be permanent. Not even her doubts. If Raccoon City had taught her anything, it was that nothing lasted forever.