evolution-500: Much appreciated friend ;) I quite enjoy writing Jill as the protagonist, especially this point in her life and the circumstances she is in. Jill is simple to write and figure out, a more straight forward Hero, where HUNK is complex, tragic, Anti Villain. There's nothing wrong with a simple character, she still has her own past and baggage, personality, flaws and strengths, and is being challenged by the moral conundrum a man like HUNK represents to her, her feelings for the worst man she could fall for in this situation. I don't see her as the forced over the top try hard action hero the remake made her come off as, she's simply a woman, a cop and a survivor. Young, but with some experience thanks to the Spencer Mansion. I based her on RE 1 Jill, S.D. Perry Jill and of course the original RE 3. A tough, warm, weathered optimist who cares about people deeply, about justice, has a well functioning moral compass, countering HUNK's initial cold, bitter apathy. Still keeps going, despite the obvious struggle of surviving. Jill's not trying to be a badass, is simply no pushover, even if she isn't on HUNK's skill level, she has advantages he doesn't. And he respects her standing her ground against him like others don't. She's able to call him out on his bullshit, because she genuinely cares about him, isn't afraid of him or his legend or using or exploiting him, is telling him the truth, as Umbrella does not. She sees him as he is, not from a reputation. She's a light shining truth into the world of lies he has lived in for years. So she's refreshing, and a challenge to him at the same time, helping him grow, pulling him away from Umbrella by making him confront hard truths he's known deep down for years. And inspiring him to reveal more of his true self gradually. She's different, the kind of different he has sorely needed for a long time. They are an interesting clash of personalities I've enjoyed writing, being on opposite sides but in the same boat, and sharing growing feelings for each other. Gal knows what she's gotta do, and will do it. And I liked playing with the nicknames and the Alpha Team coincidence when I realized it ;).

Rock992: Thank you kindly, glad you are enjoying it. He has indeed gone through character development and will continue to. Nikolai will continue to be a problem for them for sure. And Carlos wasn't referring to Glory Kills for the Doomguy reference. He was referring to the Berserk powerup, where Doomguy could tear demons apart with his melee attack lol.

Arkham Knight: Much appreciated, really wanted to make full fledged characters of the three, establish them properly, bring their personalities into interaction and create a group dynamic over time. Jill is definitely the buffer between HUNK and Carlos, who have very different personalities. I'd say Carlos is an extrovert, HUNK introverted, Jill somewhere between, lighter than HUNK but with past baggage like him, and while Carlos has his own troubled past he has a good head on his shoulders, faith and is the most 'normal' of them I'd say. Least traumatized, best adjusted to bad situations. Jill standing up to HUNK is important too, bringing their contrasting characters/personalities to focus, two very different people on opposite sides with feelings for the other. He has no authority over her either, as a civilian, so it makes her very different from what he's used to, everyone obeying him on a battlefield. She's a good challenge, being her own person, and their working together has to be one of mutual understanding and trust, not compliance. Everything about her is quite new to HUNK, and exactly what he needs. Detoxing from Umbrella.

Akira-Hayama: Indeed so, Jill is the most human protagonist here, and her emotions come with advantages and disadvantages. She has control over them, isn't hysterical or dramatic, is weathered, but it's still a weapon that can be used to manipulate her. Nikolai takes advantage of such things, especially with emotions growing in HUNK as well. A strength in some ways, a weakness in others. As I said, cold blooded HUNK as we know him from the games would have escaped the city by now. Slowly growing, developing, three dimensional HUNK remains trapped in it for a reason.

Jill's perspective on Raccoon City is certainly the most important of them, the most personal, this is HUNK and Carlos's first and final time in the city, Jill lived there all her life. Losing it will profoundly change her... not that the city and experiences there won't change HUNK and Carlos. Especially HUNK.

Much appreciated, I try to have every character included in the story matter, even after they are gone for one reason or another, and come up again at some point, be remembered. Hence the impact of Sherry's brief crossing of paths with Jill and HUNK, and the encounter sticking with them both deeply. Tying into their stories, personalities and baggage. Consequences and things mattering is important to me in a story, instead of pointless nihilism.

It's a crime Raccoon Park was cut, among other locations and material, from the Resident Evil 3 Remake. How do you cut out great swaths of content from a game when you're supposed to be doing a remake of it? So many vital things were cut out of laziness and incompetence. Rest assured, that will not be the case here. Thank you kindly, it's a difficult balance of horror/seriousness, action and bits of humor, trying to maintain atmosphere. But sometimes it is time to show horror themes, sometimes action, sometimes humor, sometimes romance. I can't go all in on one, a situation needs what it needs, hence all my original moments. I wasn't interested in telling an outright bleak horror story, but a human one, even with monsters and horror around. The situation they are in is crazy, messed up, absurd, but it is happening, that is going to impact three very contrasting main characters differently. And reflect in their interactions. And how they react to their surroundings. For HUNK, the most experienced, it's primarily an action/adventure story, for Jill it's a horror story, for Carlos it's both plus a dark comedy. Though the themes obviously factor into all three of them.

I love writing bemused, exasperated third wheel Carlos, and there will be plenty more of that in the story lol. HUNK by all accounts should be the one tagging along, but his commanding presence dominated the group and he just took over their canonical story in some ways by me introducing him into Resident Evil 3. I try not to undercut or overshadow Carlos too badly, still give him vital actions and presence, character, but he is a rookie young man, HUNK is experienced and authoritative. If this were a canonical game, HUNK would absolutely take over the group, and the two of them would be able to lean on him a bit, count on him instead of having to do it all themselves. As is the case in this story, and it applies to HUNK, learning he can lean on them when he needs to as well. Though Jill of course would stand her ground against him when needed, after the Arklay Incident, would only go along with decisions she agrees with, being outside of Umbrella and opposing them. She puts up good arguments, and HUNK isn't driven by pride, so can concede when another person is right. Especially someone like her, who is telling him the hard truth, which Umbrella never did. Bringing clarity to his world of lies. Concern for his well being. And with the growing romance between the two, I get the pleasure of using Carlos as the 'this is sweet... but give me a damn break, time and a place people' character watching it play out lol. Seeing the two of them from the outside, as we've seen HUNK from the outside. I tried to realistically reflect where each of the three is coming from, their personality types to form the unique group dynamic they have.

Thanks again, as ever.

Guest: No worries about your language, I understand what you're saying and appreciate it greatly. It surprises and humbles me to find out so many people thinking I have talent, when I never really thought about it, just focused on my writing and practicing over the years. I am glad this story is pleasing to as many people as it is, people all over the world enjoying it and understanding what I'm working on here, trying to do. That this idea of mine that started small grew as much as it did. All the tones and themes and characters I've balanced over the course of it, delved into, and hopefully did so properly. I hope you all continue to enjoy it, the developments and revelations in store for the characters. I'm glad I came back to this story too, I had it in me all this time, and want to complete it. Accomplish what I set out to do... which was to tell the definitive HUNK story that hadn't been done before, fully realize him as a layered character instead of a faceless enigma alone. To do it on a big scale, and do Jill, HUNK, Carlos, Nikolai and all others justice. This story is a love letter from me to the series I long followed, in spite of Capcom's blunders with the franchise over the years. Thanks again, friend.

117: Ah gotcha. Jill I doubt is petty enough to hold the sins of the father against his son. Might be a bit weary and hesitant, but wouldn't write Jake off automatically. Her hatred is for Wesker.

Guest: Very much appreciated, best compliment one can get is someone finding their fan fiction to be like canon, which was an intent of mine. I wasn't interested in telling a nihilistic story, wanted hope and humanity even around a bleak situation like Raccoon City. To do so I needed to delve into the 'heroes', have them interact over time, form a bond. Give weight to them and the situation. I don't think Jill and HUNK need to really talk about the kiss, especially while they're trying to survive still, they both know what they shared and feel for each other now. I'm glad that kiss moment had such an impact, that you liked it, that's the power of an earned romance, going through the steps and taking the time required to build it up, a slow burn romance. Then it means more when it happens, instead of just tossing a pair together to lock lips right off the bat, and especially with an apocalyptic backdrop and two very contrasting characters. It'd be too forced and implausible. A relationship without meaning or a story/character purpose does not interest me. Glad to hear people going back and rereading this story. I will be continuing to edit the story for a time, going back and adding/clarifying things and fixing mistakes.

Echo 5: Don't have the exact number of chapters left yet off the top of my head, a decent amount though, to the end of Raccoon City and afterwards. And yes, there will be an epilogue at the end of the story.

Thank you all for the reviews, as ever, I always appreciate them. From here on out is where my writing style narrowed down the POV's to one character at a time, I find such a method works best for me, allows the story and characters more focus. The journey continues, and both the danger and plot thickens:


October 1st, 1998, 1:52 AM

Raccoon Park Plaza, Northern Raccoon City

When they reached the park plaza again, the U.S.S. Agent immediately moved up over the stairs of the pond passage without hesitation. Remaining ahead of them, he began sweeping the area with his laser sight. He remained silent and in the lead, with Jill following him next and Carlos bringing up the rear guard. Not a word had been spoken between them all from the moment they had set out again together, through the entirety of the backtracking. The air was heavy with tension, like electricity on the wind... and Carlos didn't want any of it directed his way, if it could be helped. He wasn't in much of a joking mood at the moment. As they had passed the pond he kept his eyes, rifle and flashlight trained on the surface of the water... making sure no more surprises saw fit to burst out at him again. None did... but he took a moment to study both of the carcasses of the Hunters, still floating upon the slight current. He scowled at them darkly, cursing under his breath, but passed the pond quickly when he was sure it was secure. He hung back deliberately when they reached the plaza, keeping his eye on them as they neared and began to climb over the small bridge over top of the murky pool that had contained the sliding worms. He glanced off to the side for a moment on the way to the bridge, to their scattered parts spread out all around the area. He looked from them, and back to the entrance to the park they had come through, then focused back ahead. He had been in contemplation of what had transpired all the way back to the plaza. They were headed to some cabin deeper in the park's woods... near a graveyard apparently, that was all he knew. Somewhere on the western side of the park. HUNK seemed to know exactly where he was going, even without Jill's knowledge of the surrounding land. But then it helped when one had expertise like him... along with having contact with the Umbrella Intelligence Division and by extension one of the many satellite arrays the company owned.

Unlike the rest of them, the agent had a voice or voices in the ear to guide him along when required, keep him updated with critical information the rest of them couldn't get so easily, if at all. He was valued by the company, as much as those like Carlos were expendable. He was important... special... and had powerful benefactors since the start. War had been the first of them... currently it was Comtesse Henri, if the stories were true. There was something about powerful, blonde, European blue bloods, he supposed. Figured that had been HUNK's type... at least before a certain brunette had crossed his path. Or rather, him hers.

It had always been that way in one form or another, Umbrella Security Service having a favored standing over the other factions. The real heroes of the company who could do no wrong. Even with their faces unknown to the world, operating behind the scenes. Or perhaps because of it. Their discretion. It made sense, he supposed... given the world of difference between the woman who had founded them, and the man who had founded the U.B.C.S. The vastly different missions each faction undertook for Lord Spencer. Meanwhile the U.B.C.S. was sent into outbreak zones like the city as bait for combat data. That was all he and his friends had been worth. Data. Information. Tricking the U.S. Government into postponing their nuclear strike, buying themselves more time... though to what end, he didn't know. He couldn't deny in the past he had felt bitterness towards the U.S.S., the favoritism, the elitism... the way they behaved. The way they kept people in the dark. The secrets, nothing but secrets. It was all personified in their favorite agent, HUNK. Death. War's last protege. He had the best and worst qualities of their kind. Carlos had resented them for the longest time, the deep ingrained rivalry between their two paramilitary factions. Now... he wasn't nearly as sure. At the same time, he could never deny how much he admired them. All the soldier qualities in them that did make them so favored. The best of the best. He could never hope to match them, to be like them. To be one of them. He sure as hell wouldn't have survived the U.S.S. level training on Rockfort Island.

Everything he had watched HUNK perform... his skills, with his own eyes, were things he had never seen another man accomplish. The way he had fought the Tyrant. The Leech Man. The B.O.W.'s. The horde. All of it. The way he moved was almost unnatural. And he had taken the lead with ease and commanded them, in all parts of the worst situation imaginable. Situations that would have broken other men, were home to him.

As much as Carlos had griped, he acknowledged, there had been no man better to be led by when the shit hit the fan. By a leader known for his ability to adapt and survive against all odds. As much as HUNK had told them that they hadn't required him, that they could have made it by themselves, Carlos didn't quite find himself believing it. In all Carlos's time he had never met better soldiers... spies... whatever the hell exactly they were. When it came down to it, they were each a jack of all trades, trained and ready for everything... or very nearly anything. Sent on missions, at least until now with Raccoon City, that the U.B.C.S. could not hope to imagine. He'd heard the stories, rumors... some of it probably hyped up, made bigger than it was... but what he did believe was enough for him not to entirely envy the U.S.S. as others might, any longer. That this wasn't the first outbreak they had been involved in. Where Carlos and the rest might have been the expendable public military face of the company, the U.S.S. agents were its machines... cogs in the machine, keeping it all going. As they had been since the 70's, when the Umbrella Corporation's rapid ascension around the globe had led to the need for expanded security, special forces, and corporate espionage. War had gathered the best instructors, soldiers and leaders around the world and began U.S.S. Command at Lord Spencer's behest. Set up a legal framework and number of powerful leaders at Umbrella Command who had staved off even Colonel Vladimir's desire to take them over after War's departure. Now that he considered everything though, the U.S.S. were probably favored in the way a master might favor its best slaves. That was how the company operated.

Carlos and the rest of the U.B.C.S. had trained on Rockfort Island... but it hadn't been by the grueling instructors there, rather their own. Kept well away from the advanced training facility. All the while they had been trespassers there in the U.S.S.'s home, only allowed there at all due to Colonel Vladimir's high authority, and Commander Ashford's reluctant indulgence.

While he and the other mercenaries had trained against one another on the tropical beach, the U.S.S. Agents had almost certainly fought B.O.W.'s, infected and Tyrants in the facility. They trained almost non stop, between missions. They trained in each Umbrella military base they stayed at. They trained on the Leviathan. The ship, like Rockfort Island, was more their home than Carlos's. They probably had no life outside of the missions they were sent on... or not much of one. He doubted any of them even had family. They had been sent all over the world. Europe. The Middle East. Africa. Right here in America too. Wherever Umbrella had an investment and needed them to carry out an operation. All Carlos knew, from his experience fighting at HUNK's side in this city, was that if the company had dropped the agents alongside his own fellow mercenaries, they probably could have saved Raccoon City together. Probably could have accomplished their objectives with the agents leading the way. He wondered how defending the hellish train station might have turned out, with them there to turn the tide. Another part of him didn't want to imagine what he and his team must have run into that left nearly all of them dead, and HUNK the sole survivor of another operation. He had told Jill something... the way she had spoken, her knowledge that they were dead... and that he had spent a long time in the sewers. What the hell had been so important that Umbrella hadn't bothered dispatching HUNK and his fellow U.S.S. Agents to help retake the city? The Leviathan had been right off Tall Oaks, a battalion of the badasses stationed aboard it. What mission could have possibly been more important than that?

What she'd said about him in the city sewers stuck with Carlos. He didn't want to imagine anything as bad as or worse than the Tyrant lurking down there... but he would be naive to assume things couldn't get worse. The Leech Man had come from there, the worms dwell down there... and by all accounts, the sewer for whatever reason was a hot zone for infected and mutated horrors. Even with the sway she seemed to have with the agent, she probably didn't have the whole picture herself, the way HUNK held on to his secrets. She must have pulled some rough details out of him at some point. He also couldn't ignore the change developing in the agent, it was clear as day something was there. Something deep between him and Jill. He was the tag along third wheel here and had been since they'd all met. There was some influence she had on him. He was soft on her. As soft as someone like him could be, anyways. Otherwise, he probably would have shot them both for interfering with his mission, for defying him instead of going on without him to the Dead Factory. To say nothing of what had transpired at the hospital. What he had invested into saving her. Putting his own objectives in peril for her. Every time they were all together, though Carlos felt apart of what was happening, had come to care for both... he was treated like the kid. Though to be fair, he was in a way.

Still. Carlos didn't know what effect it was exactly she had on him... but it was there. The looks they traded. The closeness. The quiet talk to one another. And it had him behaving in a manner he hadn't expected to see from the agent. He was having too much contact with a civilian, perhaps, and too much time away from his fellow agents... and this was the result. Their experiences as a team were changing everything, even the U.S.S. Grim Reaper. Carlos had never really stopped to consider HUNK as a person, now that he thought about it. A man, not a machine. A human being, not a legend whispered fearfully about... stories that admittedly gave him the creeps. For everything that had happened since meeting up with him, Carlos wouldn't have traded any of it for the world. Barring the Leech Man and his 'swim' in the pond, of course. And the Pale Heads. And the Tyrant. And Nikolai. Secrets or not, HUNK had saved them both over the course of the escape. The three of them were bound in a way that went beyond duty. HUNK was a deeply complicated man, and perhaps Carlos would never be able to understand him, stand in his shoes, but he was a man nevertheless. A faint smile touched Carlos's lips as he watched them ahead. They were all he had left now anyways. He'd look out for them, both of them, no matter the cost.

To the end of the road.

Ahead, HUNK had reached another gate on the western side of the plaza and had kicked it open with a muffled grunt, moving through, aiming ahead and sweeping the area. With a hand gesture he ordered them to pause for a moment as he examined for any hostiles. Carlos froze on the spot, looking over to Jill, but she made no eye contact with him. She was watching HUNK, as ever. No moans or noises came from the area... nor did HUNK fire his silenced submachine gun. Finally, lowering his weapon he signaled to them that it was all clear. Jill moved through the gate next at once, standing off to the side from the agent, looking around herself. On Carlos's way through the gate, he glanced to a green sign on the wall next to it, denoting a park fountain of sorts lay in the next area. He passed a row of park benches and trees of a section of the plaza garden, brushing one of the branches out of the way.

Sure enough, moving through the gate, he spotted the fountain ahead at once. Copying the pair of them, he lowered his rifle but kept it close and studied their surroundings in unison with the others. The area consisted of a stone walkway ahead, two more benches and a trash can off to the right of the path, one covered in paint cans and the other broken and collapsed. Beyond them were some railings barring access to the dense forest beyond. There were a couple metal scaffolding structures past the railings, rising tall near the steep drop off of the railings. One sat off to the west, exposed to the rain, and the other was positioned just past the drop off ahead and covered partially in a loose blue tarp.

There was a pile of lumber laying across the walkway further on... and close beside it were a few clay pots containing a familiar assortment of green and blue herbs. Herbs... herbs everywhere, it seemed. Carlos couldn't go anywhere without tripping over them... fortunately in the course of his scavenging he had already gathered a fair measure of each type and stored it in his backpack. Now he could finally afford to not add more to his already copious amount. Taking it all into account, evidently someone had been hard at work fixing up and renovating the fountain area before the outbreak. The marble fountain itself was off to the eastern side of the area, and rather impressive, illuminated by a pair of spotlights on the edge of the pool. It consisted of a few statues, the centerpiece being a tall city building, probably a real one somewhere within Raccoon City. Water spouted from the top of it, flowing powerfully. Residing upon the skyscraper perched a pair of stone birds... not unlike the other sculptures he'd seen around the park.

This pair stared eagle eyed in their direction from the top, while resting beneath at the skyscraper's base another couple had their wings spread out, cawing. Beneath the fountain, where the water flowed into, resided a spacious, deep pool of shifting water within the concrete basin beneath the downpour. In contrast to the pool in the main plaza, the water at the base of the fountain was for the most part clear and clean. He studied the water with his flashlight, looking through it with his rifle aimed carefully. No worms, corpses or other mutated surprises lay within it, or burst out to attack them life before. Much to Carlos's relief. Surprises involving water were the last thing he cared for anymore. And he wasn't about to drop his guard around any body of water.

"Down there is a sewer shortcut we can take to get to the cemetery and the cabin.", Jill broke the silence, gesturing to the water and at last looking back at the two of them. Her blue, steady eyes peered intently between both, before looking past them. Sure enough, following her gesture, Carlos could see a closed metal hatch down beneath the surface of the water in the fountain pool's far corner. "Don't worry, it isn't connected to the infested primary sewer network... its its own section. But first we're going to have to drain the fountain to gain access to it."

"Why do I get the feeling that involves another headache inducing puzzle?"

"Because it does. Don't worry, I'll take the bullet for you."

"My hero."

"You two just watch my back, in the meantime. Had enough surprises for one night."

"Makes three of us, I bet."

Jill turned from and stepped past them, making her way off to the immediate right of the door they had come through, to another small section. Carlos's eyes followed her there, noting a tall blue mechanical control panel in that corner he hadn't spotted yet. It was connected to a generator, and a green light glowed vibrantly upon it, signalling it was all powered up for usage. Whatever it involved, Carlos didn't envy her... but he was grateful as hell she was volunteering to take the problem off their hands. He's had enough puzzles to last him several lifetimes. It was positioned next to a small set of stairs descending down into the pool of water, like a swimming pool. She tucked away her weapons and opened up the panel's lid, exposing the mechanical workings, glowing buttons and gears beneath... and stood before it in silent contemplation. Trying to figure it out by herself.

Carlos looked between it and then to HUNK, but the agent's rain soaked cracked and intact lenses watched her alone in silence. Not really seeing Carlos anymore. Seemingly contemplating something. Another long moment passed and the agent lowered his submachine gun, a quiet, weary, muffled breath escaping, and he began to move slowly after her, stepping past Carlos's curious gaze and pacing towards the young woman. He paused before a large sign that had been pinned up off to the side, close to Jill and the fountain's control panel and he turned towards it. Carlos did as well, noting it seemed to have instructions for how to drain the fountain and use the machine. It involved shifting around the gears in a specific order to specific places. Another game, like the synthesis machine in the hospital laboratory. The agent glanced at the complicated instructions for a few seconds, raising a gloved finger, running it over the sign and slowly turned his head in her direction. His low, muffled, calm tone finally emerged to her for the first time since their argument.

"Move the bottom left black gear to the empty space in the top left. Then move the top left white gear to the bottom left space, Valentine."

Jill's eyes shot up from the panel and over towards the masked agent, with a bit of surprise at his sudden voice and appearance behind her. The Batman routine again. She glanced at the sign, before looking back at him again. The two held one another's gaze a few moments and she nodded gratefully, before turning back to the mechanical device and getting to work, following the vocal instruction. Making it easier for her. HUNK stepped away from the sign and over to her side. The two went on like that, working together to solve the gear based puzzle... the tension between them was thick in the air like living energy... Carlos could still feel it, but they continued to work through it, with no hint of hostility towards the other. Not much else of anything really, that Carlos could determine. He was no master at reading signals, especially with them. But it was more of what he'd noticed awhile back. HUNK's low, steady tone continued to murmur the writing on the sign he had examined, with Jill nodding in acknowledgement between button pressing and gear adjustment. Working as they had before... falling back into a quiet, comfortable pattern. Apologizing to one another for their fight, perhaps, without putting it into words. The steel that he had seen in her during the earlier exchange relaxing again with him, as he comfortably took the lead. Taking one hand off his submachine gun and slowly... hesitantly... pushing aside the Mine Thrower slung over her shoulder and settling his hand against her soaked, bandaged, mostly bare back gently while she adjusted the gears. At the touch she looked up into his mask again... and he caught the familiar, faint smile on her bruised features... before looking back to the machine, leaning against his shoulder, and continuing.

It was amazing to Carlos how an Umbrella special forces legend who death seemed to follow, a secret agent in full gear, and a heavily armed former elite cop and soldier in one who looked one sweatband away from being Rambo, could suddenly and amusingly look like two shy teenagers attending a prom together.

Carlos, still standing some measure away from them, looked on again a bit awkwardly, resisting a chuckle at the oddly adorable scene, unsure what to do with himself. It wasn't something that involved him, what they had, those looks at one another, entertaining as it was catching Jill nearly drooling as she watched him sometimes. No sense drawing attention to himself. Even if everything turned out ok, even if they managed to escape the city... it wasn't going to end well for them. The two lovebirds needed all the time together that they could get while they still had it. Even if it was here in the middle of hell... the two of them had a better chance here together than they would outside it. He felt a pang of sympathy for them... of all the places to find one another... and to be on complete opposite sides. Carlos liked a good bittersweet tragic romance as much as the next guy... but it was rarely kind in the end on those involved in it. He didn't envy them for that... and taking out his cross, gripping it, he prayed a silent prayer for the both of them. Knowing how much they needed it, whether they believed as he did or not. When he had finished, the young man tucked away the necklace again and turned away from the pair of them, scratching his neck absently and looking back over to the benches. He left them to it gladly. Only then did he spot something else he'd missed earlier. A bulletin board, with a map of the park on pinned to it.

Seizing the distraction, something to do, he walked over to it and began to study it absently. It was one hell of a big park... easy to get lost in, as he probably would have without the two of them. Still, it could prove useful... he didn't waste any possible information. He slung his rifle again and unpinned the map, looking it over more closely in the light. He didn't want to imagine the creatures that lurked somewhere out in the woods, deeper into them. Fortunately they would only need to visit a few areas, and not the entirety of Raccoon Park. He was sick of the detours as it were. Sure enough, the graveyard and cabin were marked on the map, in the woods beyond the fountain.

Hopefully Jill's shortcut payed off... the sooner they got away from all the local 'wildlife' the better off they'd all be. Hopefully avoiding the woods was a good trade off for the unwelcome prospect of going through a sewer. It was becoming a typical routine in Raccoon City, being forced between two potentially disastrous decisions. But... at least this one wasn't his. He spent a few minutes mulling it over... when back at the control panel the gears locked loudly into place and began to whir and respond. Carlos looked up from the map and over at the pair. Jill wore an expression of pleased satisfaction and closed up the lid of the control panel, while HUNK removed his hand from her back and turned in the same direction Carlos did. Carlos and the agent watched as the fountain began to drain... and folding up the map, tucking it away as he walked, Carlos moved over to the edge of the fountain, peering down at the rapidly lowering level. The metal hatch had automatically retracted, bubbles erupting wildly from it, the water level lowering down the dark hole beyond and out of sight, the light gradually exposing a ladder beneath leading to the sewer. He could see nothing more beyond it, and at last looked over at the pair remaining by the control panel. He uttered a low whistle of approval, nodding with satisfaction.

"Not bad, you two. Make a pretty good team, when there's no lovers quarrel brewing. Probably would have taken me an hour to figure out that damn thing."

"Hell of a lot longer than an hour, Carlos. Assuming you didn't empty your rifle in it."

"Don't rub it in. So... who's the brave volunteer going down there first? 1, 2, 3, not it."

Carlos looked up between the blue and dark figures respectively, the two of them with a smirk, while they exchanged another look. Wordlessly, HUNK nodded very slowly, and she returned the gesture. Silent understanding passing between them again. The U.S.S. Agent stepped past Jill and the machine and down the steps into the drained fountain, taking point again. His boots splashed through the remaining water as he navigated the path around the fountain and down towards the retracted hatch and ladder. Jill followed after him almost at once, keeping close, while Carlos moved over to the edge of the fountain and dropped down after them. He and Jill reached HUNK's position in moments, and stood back, watching on as he slung his submachine gun and began to lower himself down the hatch and on to the ladder, climbing down rung by rung. His mask and helmet disappeared out of Carlos's view, and Jill was the next one on the ladder, wincing slightly when her hands made contact with the rungs, before loosening her grip and descending as well. Within a few moments she was down out of view after him. Carlos stepped over to the hatch and began to sling his own rifle, glancing a little nervously down after them. There were lights down there, removing the need for his flashlight, which he switched off at once.

His narrowed eyes glimpsed them far below retracting back from the ladder at the bottom. There was still quite a bit of water down there, from what he could see... but he wasn't about to drown in it. He hoped. Drawing a steady breath, his boots and gloved hands made contact with the ladder and he began his descent, boots tapping and echoing on them, the sights of the fountain and park above fading out of view. The falling rain followed after him through the open hatch beneath the skies nonetheless. Fortunately, as far as sewers went it was probably clean, he recognized. He could smell nothing foul and heard no complaints below. As she had assured them it wasn't directly connected to the city's main sewers, rather was its own separate design specially for the park alone. Made sense. Sewage water in a fountain might scare off a few of the park visitors, just like the zombies would.

He held on to that relieving thought against the fear of things worse than the Leech Man waiting below. Monsters like that dwell in foulness and disease, not clean water separate of the city's main reservoir. If he didn't keep rationalizing everything, he'd probably lose his courage and tell them to go on without him. Half of him already wanted to do that. At last he began to near the bottom, reaching the final rungs and climbing off the ladder without looking down, or back. To his immediate regret. He landed with a splash, the cold water raising instantly up towards his waist and he let out a yell of surprise that echoed throughout the sewer. Carlos's eyes darted around the interior of it, to find Jill waiting for him, standing deep in the water near the ladder, and HUNK a bit ahead of her. The water was a bit higher on her than the rest of them, and she looked as properly displeased with the situation as he felt. She stood with both her pistols drawn and raised up out of the water... both her modified Beretta, and the unusual modified pistol HUNK had lent her.

"Jesus Christ! You could have told me it was this deep! That drainage system doesn't drain anything!"

"Are you really complaining, after your swim in the pond?"

"Well, my boots are full again, so complaining is going to be all you hear out of me, officer."

"So are mine. I'd be surprised if HUNK's weren't. You'll live."

"Not very comfortably."

Carlos uttered a grunt of annoyance in response as he began to adjust to the water. She did have one point, he was already drenched and had been in less clean water. Instead of going through the bother of unslinging his rifle, he drew his sidearm again and began to look around their surroundings. The tunnel was fairly long, and over to the left of the ladder it was closed off by a big cast iron gate, with another on the opposite far end, barring them access to other sections of the sewer, perhaps. He had no objections there. There was metal grating above them on the sewer ceiling, and assorted pipes running along interconnected to the walls. Dim flickering lights led their way... but it was light nonetheless. Carlos turned back to the two of them, and HUNK was already moving ahead, sloshing through the water, moving down to the end of the drainage passage. There was section out of sight off to the right of the far grating bars, and it was to there HUNK and Jill had begun to move.

Carlos started after them with a grimace, doing his damnedest to ignore the cold. His balls were shrunken in his pants, that was all he knew. He hadn't signed up for any of this shit. His original severe prison sentence, before Umbrella had come along with false hope, was already looking better now. He would have stayed behind bars if he had known what was waiting for him among the U.B.C.S. When they were half way up the passage, the world around them began to rumble and shake, the noise echoing through the corridor, and freezing all of them in their respective places as one. The cement began to crack on the ceiling above and sprinkle down dust into the water, Carlos's eyes raising to it. Was it an earthquake? Now of all times? He'd been wondering how the hell things could get worse, one way or another it did. Carlos looked around for somewhere he, they, might be able to take cover... but as the rumbling continued on, and his eyes fell upon the far grating ahead of them, his insides froze like his flesh already had. Lips parting.

"No fucking way..."

Something stirred beyond the bars of the sewer fence... somewhere beyond them where light barely touched. Enough of it did to highlight the outline of a massive bulk, a passing mountain of dark, slimy, scarred flesh moving quickly beyond amidst the worsening rumbling. Passing through the water with such force it sprayed everywhere around it, coming out from between the bars. Sliding. Digging through the vast sewers, perhaps. Carlos strained his eyes to glimpse as much as he could... and was welcomed for his trouble by a sudden shower of the raining dust from above. It fell right into his eyes, stinging them and momentarily blinding him. By the time he'd rubbed the dust out of them, cursing, wiping his arm over his face and coughing, deepening anger and dread had formed together as one in his stomach. There was a deep, muffled sound, somewhere echoing in the sewers beyond... a sound that could only have been produced by something living. Something emerging from a great maw... guttural. It echoed all around them, and Carlos felt it within, raising the hairs on his arms.

Whatever had been moving beyond the fence bars was gone quickly, the rumbling of the earth quieting down and vanishing in the distance. Leaving behind only the eerie silence of the passage, far away from the rain and moans of the dead above. Whatever had passed did bring a stench with it... of rot, bile... a hundred putrid scents... and left it behind in its absence. It smelled of something that had been buried away in the earth for too long. Something that didn't see the sun. Slowly he shook his head, heart still racing with shock in his chest as he worked, struggled, to gather his wits. To comprehend what had just come to pass. His hopeless, hollow words seeped out of his mouth of their own accord.

"Oh my God no, please... what was that?! Don't tell me..."

Carlos's eyes snapped over off the thing's side and to Jill in time to catch the unmistakable silent terror in her blue eyes. Recognition. He didn't see it in her gaze often... only when the Tyrant had been involved, he recalled. This was no Tyrant, but it was there now nonetheless. She stood stock still with both pistols aimed and ready in the direction the thing had slithered. By comparison, his SIG Pro hung loosely in his hand, almost forgotten until now. HUNK, weapon remaining lowered, slowly turned his head back towards them... but when he spoke it was to neither of them.

"Affirmative, NIGHTHAWK. We caught the seismic activity as well. Know what it means. We'll make this quick. Avoid it if we can. Will update you later. Going radio silent again."

The U.S.S. Agent paused for a moment, listening to the voice of the legendary U.S.S. pilot they couldn't hear on the other line, nodding slightly to himself. Then looking back their way again when he was finished with the call... but quite clearly his attention was more upon her. They shared another knowing look, the horror and unease in Jill's expression did nothing to comfort Carlos. Nor were the agent's subsequent reassuring words leveled at her and simultaneously confirming Carlos's worst possible fears.

"It shouldn't come back. We'll handle it again if it does. Like last time. We need to keep moving. Quickly."

"What?!", Carlos demanded loudly, looking sharply between the two of them. Dreading the answer he already knew deep down. "Huh?! What shouldn't come back?!"

To his annoyance they both ignored him, and said nothing. Jill merely nodded back at the agent with a grim understanding of some sort. HUNK turned back wordlessly ahead and began to lead the way again, as though they had not been stopped by an earthquake caused by something Carlos never wanted to fully rest his eyes on. Raccoon City had already made enough movie monsters a reality. Did it really need to make Tremors or Dune one of those as well? Every time his mind turned to imagining what it had looked like, each time it took on a different horrific shape, looming in the darkness. Tunneling inexorably through it. Waiting somewhere out there for them, perhaps.

"Here's me thinking I could go into a sewer without some nasty shit being involved. Was it really asking too much?"

Carlos muttered it more to himself than to them, but kept it audible enough. Neither of them reacted or looked back his way. They knew something alright. More than he did. He remembered them talking about what had lay the sliding... things, they'd had the misfortune to come across. From the look on Jill's pale face, and HUNK's body language, he had a general idea what had just happened. He had the sinking feeling he had just caught his first glimpse of mother. Tightening his stubble lined jaw, Carlos took off more quickly after them as the HUNK stepped up on to the ledge of the next corridor, pulling himself out of the water. It showered the concrete surface below his soaked boots, and then it was Jill's turn to climb out of the water. Carlos stepped up and out as well after them, no longer caring how soaking wet he was. He had far worse matters on his mind that wouldn't be going anywhere. The image of the burrowing, giant thing... its marred flesh pulsating and throbbing... giant, rope-like veins he remembered standing out on its side. He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it, to focus on what was ahead.

Glimpsing down past them through the final corridor, as they moved closer towards the end, their shadows dancing on the walls around them, he caught sight of the red ladder in the distance to the surface. Probably the most welcome ladder he'd ever seen. So far, anyways. They hadn't been in the sewer for more than a couple minutes or so, and he wanted the hell out as fast as possible. Already dreading the idea of having to come back through it again later. One problem at a time. One of the many. Rain poured down from above, which trickled from the open air high above, and ran steadily towards the trio. HUNK reached the ladder, slinging his weapon again and starting to climb without looking back, the rain bouncing off his gleaming black, battle scarred helmet, washing over his mask. Jill moved to tuck her pistols back away in their holsters, only to find them almost full to the brim with water. She unhappily poured the water out of each before tucking them away again and adjusting her shoulder straps. While HUNK climbed to the surface above, tapping combat boots echoing through the sewer, Carlos finally caught Jill's knowing eyes again, and her attention. He rubbed his hand through his hair unconsciously, again drawing up his words.

"Jill... what the fuck was it?", He asked tiredly, not wanting to hear it, but having no choice. The truth was all that mattered, no matter how awful. The sooner they properly acknowledged the giant worm in the park, the better. "Why won't you guys just say it?"

"Even monsters like those sliding worms have a mother, Carlos.", Jill replied at long last slowly, resting her gloved hand upon one of the rungs and gripping it tightly. This time she didn't wince at the pain it probably invoked. "While the T-Virus is their father. I'm glad you weren't there with us when it happened. And I hope you don't have to see it again."

"You fought it before, right? You survived it. If you could do that, how is it still alive? You killed it, didn't you?"

"We badly wounded it... I thought, hoped now that I think about it, that it had crawled off to die somewhere in the sewers Downtown. I was wrong. It had days to heal from its wounds. While we were held up at the clock tower. It healed... as the Tyrant healed. Probably mutated. It will be stronger and angrier, if anything else. Especially if it remembers what we did to it. What HUNK did to its hive. What we all did to its children. I rather think that it will remember."

"Hive? Children? How the hell can that thing remember anything?! It's just a goddamn worm!"

"Why do those men, women and children up there in the streets still walk?", Jill asked in turn quietly to Carlos's near shout that echoed around the sewer. The former officer calmly rose a gloved hand, pointing to the surface over their heads. His eyes followed her finger, while his mind followed her chain of logic. The point she was making. "Why do they hunger? They're dead, Carlos. I gave up all hope on anything making sense a long time ago. Last summer. After everything you've seen, done and survived... I think it's time you got with the program. Like the rest of the team. Just go with it."

Carlos stopped at that, choking back the rest of his words. They died in his throat. He had no answer for her. For that lunacy. As she had none for his equally stupid question. How any of this could happen, how things like the monsters they fought could exist could not be answered. How they, the three of them, had ended up together in this mess was beyond contemplation. It was a torture in its self to do so. To think about how differently it all could have turned out for them. He didn't want to bother. Evidently, neither did she. She gave him one more silent, sympathetic, understanding look at his bewilderment and turned, gripping the ladder and beginning to climb up after HUNK, who by now had reached the surface. He saw HUNK reach down and clasp her gloved hand, helping pull her up to the surface again, the two of them disappearing out of sight up there. The moment they were gone, Carlos lowered his head and sighed under his breath.

"Fucking insanity... all of it... losing my mind, like them... next thing you know I'll end up talking to myself..."

Carlos remained hesitantly at the base of the ladder for a few moments, his eyes slowly turning back to the passageway they had come through. To the fence bars he had glimpsed it passing behind. He couldn't hear it now... thank God for small mercies. The best case scenario was it had traveled somewhere away from Raccoon Park. It was a scenario he wanted to hope for... but look what hoping had done for Jill... it was back, stronger, bigger and perhaps angrier than before. A word stayed with him that troubled him especially. Hive. HUNK had found a hive somewhere in the city, she had said. His thoughts turned slowly back to that room in the hospital. The infected creature laying strapped to the bed. His midsection parted, intestines and blood everywhere... and the blood soaked, mewling things he had mistaken for intestines, hiding among the entrails. He imagined many more like it, webbed up in some pit in the earth... the things bursting forth as they screamed.

His mind did not want to go any further than that.

Maybe he really was starting to understand HUNK's silence and manner. Carlos had already seen enough for a dozen lifetimes. Jill more, probably. How much had HUNK seen, if the stories were true? He forced himself to stop right there and return to the present. He drew in a slow, steadying breath from the cold air coming down from above,. Opening his eyes, he peered up at the top of the now vacant ladder, to the surface where they awaited out of view for him to join them. Or interrupt them. He heard the agent's muffled voice and her softer tone up there speaking to each other quietly, but couldn't make out the words from where he was. No telling what they were doing up there together. He chuckled grimly under his breath at the thought. Sliding his SIG Pro back into its holster, he climbed on to the red ladder and began his own ascent, not daring to look back down, his heart beating quicker in a way that had nothing to do with the exertion. He left it all behind him gladly, amid the sounds of clanking metal as his boots touched each step. The higher up he got, the more concentrated the rain pouring down on him became, pelting him, running over his faces, from the black sky up there. The closer the cold air came, the louder the moans of the dead beyond and probably in the park grew, and the voices above fell silent.

Finally, reaching the top, he pulled himself up and over with a grunt, to find himself sitting on the edge of a ring of bricks encircling the ladder. The entrance to the sewer, at least on this side, was not a hatch as it was on the other side, but resembled a well more than anything. His first sight was of Jill standing to his left next to the dark cast iron fence of the graveyard, while HUNK stood opposite her to his right, next to a cement wall.

Jill had carefully removed her boots and was draining them of the water that had been gathered in them... which in turn reminded Carlos to do the same. She also took the time to properly tighten the blood stained sweater that had been fastened to her leg. Most of it was dirty and soaked... why it had been put there, what had happened to her leg, he wasn't sure. She'd been wearing it from the first time the two of them had met him at the Grill 13 Restaurant. When he had checked it at the chapel there had been burns and deep healing wounds. Fresh stitches... most likely from the same surgical stapling gun he'd found in HUNK's medical bag. They had been through something together, before they had all met... and she still walked with that limp... though managed to power through it whenever she had to. All Carlos had been able to do was apply more First Aid Spray, some freshly ground up green and red herbs and secure new bandages and her sweater back into place. What had caused it was anyone's guess. As well as everything the two of them had gotten up to before him. A run in with the Tyrant, if he had to guess. He wondered how long they'd been working together... she said they had met at the R.P.D. HUNK for his part remained quite still and at the ready, submachine gun already prepared. Waiting silently now for the two of them to be prepared to continue.

As Carlos drained his boots yet again, he took the time to look around... noting at once the trees around them, and the overall return of greenery. The noise of the rain was louder than before as such, from all the water steadily pattering against the leaves. They were back in the forest, and by now he was finding that welcome, the colors, illuminated in the light posts around the cemetery. More nature... like he preferred, to the concrete, battle torn hell that was the streets outside the park. It wasn't an especially giant cemetery from what he could see, decent sized, probably an old one, the grounds having belonged to the city park for years. There were a few rows of tomb stones, of various assorted sizes, some of the graves more elaborate than others. As it was in any graveyard. For those that could afford a decent final resting place. Ahead of them was the main path that, from the looks of it, took a turn that led off to the cabin in question. He could see part of the wood structure from where he sat, illuminated in a light of its own. The graveyard was abandoned, with no sign of any creatures... and between that and the big gate and walls around the cemetery, he was already starting to feel more relieved. He looked over at Jill, managing a smile as he put his boots back on, tying them up. At last deciding to break the silence that had lingered over them awhile.

"Hey, you guys know the advantage of graveyards? Even with all the zombies around this city?"

"Infected."

"Hmm? What's that, Carlos?"

"That cliche of them rising from the grave is pure bullshit. The bodies are already dead, buried and quite safe from infection. Even in the unlikely case an infected person died and was buried before it could reanimate, if it does reanimate it sure as hell can't claw its way out of a heavy sealed coffin and six feet of dirt. Call me crazy. Those things might be dangerous, but they aren't that strong."

"I never thought of it like that."

"The irony is a graveyard is probably one of the safest places you can be held up at in an outbreak. Hospitals, well..." , Carlos trailed off, glancing over to HUNK's lenses, receiving an almost imperceptible nod from the agent. The two men sharing an understanding of their own. "Not so much. The movies never did understand that. Cliches for you."

"I might not say it often, but you're actually pretty clever, Carlos. In your own sometimes annoying way."

"Don't sound so impressed, Supercop. Haven't seen anything yet. When all this is over, I just might write the world's first zombie survival guide. God knows the world might need one after this."

"Sounds like you could make a killing. If anyone buys all this... if it isn't covered up."

"I used to fight for the Communist guerrillas, in South America. Got caught red handed... earned a prison sentence, Umbrella came recruiting."

Carlos found himself admitting of his own volition. He adjust the straps on his backpack and thought back, remembering HUNK's mention of Bosnia and Croatia. He'd shared that much... and Jill had told him of her Delta Force training. The least he could do was return a little background information, for both of them. Fair was fair. It seemed to draw some curiosity, they both looked his way again, HUNK unreadable but interested, Jill raising a brow, looking like she wanted to speak, but listening instead.

"After a little time in America, I'm wondering why the hell I ever fought for them. They can keep their everyone equal in misery Marxist bullshit. Almost got me executed. I sure as hell ain't going back. At least here maybe I can get rich teaching people how to kick zombie ass when this is over. Might even write an autobiography."

"That's the American spirit, kid. There's hope for you yet."

"Hoorah."

Jill's bruised features smiled faintly at that, before glancing HUNK's way again with a slight shrug of her shoulders. At last, Carlos rose from his spot at the edge of the drainage sewer entrance, taking up his rifle again and readying it. Jill simultaneously was prepared again, drawing her sidearms... and HUNK took the lead once more, stepping away from the wall and on to the cemetery path. He looked back over his shoulder between the two of them as they resumed their former positioned, gesturing his hand for them to stack up and keep close. A military signal both of them understood. Carlos gave him a thumb's up, Jill a smile, and with a nod the agent started forward again. Carlos kept his guard up, eyes sweeping around the graveyard and woods beyond... he couldn't glimpse any shambling figures out there... but then, it was dense greenery. He wouldn't be surprised if anything made its way out of them at some point. How many park guests had their been since the outbreak? How many other survivors had passed through it? How many mutations and zombies were lurking there? It could have been few or many, either as likely as the other. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a pitched battle here... there were too many places they could attack from... in the camouflage of the forest, combined with the night and rain. Between it and the thing that burrowed below, the sooner they got this done the better. He never would have thought he'd be looking forward to the ominously named Dead Factory in thee tail end of an outbreak, compared to a jaunt through Raccoon Park... but here he was. When they reached the small open metal gate of the cemetery, the ground in front of it burst open all of a sudden, to Carlos's shock. From its depths emerged a dirt and mud covered figure... complete with the scent of rot, and the return of the familiar moans and the gnashing of teeth. All around the park separate spots of dirt burst open, and the moaning of the dead joined in a chorus with the first.

"Shit!"

Cursing in surprise, Carlos snapped up his rifle to his shoulder and fired a burst into the head of the snarling zombie closest to HUNK, before the agent could deal with it. The roar of the rifle splattered its head to a pulp, echoed through the cemetery and forest, and was soon joined by the twin gunshots of Jill's pistols and the powerful echoing clicks of HUNK's silenced submachine gun setting some of them on fire. The three formed up in a tri formation and held their ground, focusing their sights on the cemetery and targeting each zombie as they emerged and started in their direction. The red laser sight sweeped the area, exploding skulls, blood and grey matter, each head it targeted set on fire or outright blown off. Fire rippling over their corpses, smoke pouring off them. Carlos's heart raced again wildly at the ambush, but at the same time he was amped up at how awesome the slaughter was. He shot a burst into one's leg, breaking it from under the zombie, and fired another burst into its skull while it was down. They didn't stand a chance against the three of them, working together in unison. Carlos lost himself in it, focusing all he had on it, feeling not fear but exhilaration. It had been like this sometimes at the barricades of Central Street Station... struggling, lost in a fugue of battle. He had welcome it... an escape from the fear that would have paralyzed him otherwise. Fear that would have gotten him killed long before he met HUNK or Jill. Carlos shouted and cursed at the enemy enthusiastically, encouraging the others between the roar of gunfire.

Well over a dozen of the earth covered creatures had emerged in the cemetery's divided sections, but they had been prepared. He missed his shots now and again... he wasn't perfect and this wasn't a movie. He felt every ache, every bit of pain and exhaustion, and sometimes his vision was blurry... especially between the rain and with the dust that had gotten into them. Some of his shots went wild, slamming into head stones and breaking them apart with force. He cursed every time it happened and readjusted his shots. It was some comfort to glimpse Jill doing the same thing now and again... they weren't super soldiers, rather people who had been fighting for days. Jill flipped the switch on HUNK's pistol, and took the head off a mud caked, rotting woman who almost got too close to her with a burst of rounds. The machine pistol kicked in her hand but she held it fairly steady, a look of pleased satisfaction written on her bruised, cut face at the pistol's capability. No... not just Rambo... she seemed to be auditioning for Robocop as well. HUNK was more accurate than the pair of them... though he was clearly taking more of his time, using only one shot each, and lining up his shot with the laser sight first, peering down his scope. Making every round count, as he had all this time. Everything was precise, well practiced and calculated to him. He would not lose his head and fire wildly... he would simply and expertly take down the enemy, not give in to fear or blood lust, or cruelty.

A consummate professional. He took no satisfaction from any of it, Carlos was fairly certain... not the way others he'd known had. Not like Nikolai.

Carlos ran dry on his magazine and popped in a fresh one, following HUNK's example and switching over to single shot, helping mop up the last of them. Not letting them get closer. One after another they fell before the survivors, twitching and bleeding into the soil and mud. Infected corpses strewn all over the areas they had emerged from... none of them managing to get within arm's reach of the three survivors. With his adrenaline coursing, the battle felt to Carlos far longer than it actually had been. And only when he ceased fire, did he realize he'd been holding in his breath. Lowering his rifle, he rubbed his forehead a bit wearily, looking around at the others. HUNK was studying the rotting, burning bodies closest to himself silently, while Jill scanned the rest of the cemetery and peered into the woods beyond them as a precaution. Checking for more hostiles. At last her slow, mildly amused voice broke over the rain with clarity, audible to both men, her blue eyes within her bruised, cut face looking back in the Corporal's direction.

"You said something about graveyards being safe, Carlos? Might want to excise that one from your book. Hate to see you lose that newfound fortune of yours."

"There's no way they were buried six feet under!", Carlos declared in turn with an amount of bemused indignation at her observation. He moved ahead of HUNK and over to the first zombie's blood soaked corpse, kicking its rotting, oozing form out of the way of the hole it had emerged from, straining his eyes down on it. Taking in the details... his thoughts immediately confirmed. "I don't see a broken coffin down there either. It isn't deep, just enough to hide a body. Someone must have been in a hurry to bury them. I don't know if they were already infected, or if the T-Virus seeped to them in the soil. Either way, I stand by what I said. There's no chance that old myth could happen under the proper circumstances, damn it."

"A trap lay for someone. Us, most likely."

"Man, do you always have to be the bearer of bad news?"

"The truth is what it is. Good or bad is irrelevant to it."

"Shhh. You two are going to wake up the rest of the cemetery. Even the dead need their sleep. Apparently."

"Very funny, Jill. I hope to God someone living buried them like that, on purpose or otherwise."

"Why?"

"Because otherwise they're learning how to set up traps, ambushes. I'd rather not entertain the idea of smart zombies. Anymore than I like the idea of fast zombies."

"Smart zombies... like those Pale Things? Fast zombies... like the Lickers?"

"Those naked mutated bastards are not zombies. Zombies do not smoke when shot, mend themselves back together or have acid for saliva. They don't crawl on walls either. I don't give a fuck how messed up they are. Those freaks are more alien than anything else. Or vampires."

Jill appeared to consider that for a moment, a strange expression passing over her features. For a moment she looked as though she were going to say something... reconsidered and shrugged her shoulders. Whatever had been on her mind, Carlos found himself suddenly curious about whatever she had seen out there. Then again... at this point he probably really didn't want to know. Either way, she decided against arguing the finer details of zombies. He didn't push the matter, especially since she turned around then and took the lead from HUNK, stepping past the two men and into the cemetery, looking back at them as she moved. Waving her Beretta in a gesture to hurry up. The former officer moved to a pathway on the immediate right of the cemetery's gate, and she rose both pistols, sweeping them over the area.

"Come on, boys, enough small talk. The cabin's just down here. Let's get this show on the road. Before worse than zombies come knocking."

"Seconded. Still, I don't know who the hell keeps a cabin near a graveyard.", Carlos observed as HUNK followed after the young woman. Carlos kept back, remaining on rear guard duty but kept close to the two of them, not exactly wanting any further surprises. Or a hand to suddenly burst from the ground and find itself around his ankle. There were also strange noises deep in the woods, now and again. Sometimes he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him... other times he was not so sure. "In the forest, for that matter. I've seen enough movies to know visiting a cabin in the woods never turns out well. You couldn't pay me enough to live out here in one alone."

"The groundskeeper lived here, obviously. He didn't have much of a problem being paid for it. Someone had to watch over the place, do the handiwork. The city paid well, apparently. Don't worry Carlos, we won't be staying long enough to get chopped up by a chainsaw."

"First good news of the evening."

Turning the next bend, past the subsequent row of graves, Carlos spotted it down at the far end, illuminated like a welcome beacon to his eyes. The wooden door of the cabin awaited in the distance... there was a second cast iron door connected to it, but in contrast to the wooden door it was already open. The tall cast iron fence was situated on either side of the cabin's entrance, the top of each bar on the fence jagged and razor sharp, preventing any entrance save through the front door. Was almost like the owner had foreseen a possible zombie invasion, working in a cemetery. As Jill and HUNK moved down towards it, reaching the front stoop, Carlos found himself picking up the pace. He outright ran the rest of the way, past the various light posts in the cemetery, stepping over any of the body's in the way. At last the three of them had reached the door, standing together. Jill reached inside one of her side packs and produced the key she she taken off the dead Monitor back on the path to the suspension bridge. She began to move it closer to the locked wooden door's handle, but before she could insert the glinting metal into the lock, HUNK's gloved hand enclosed on her wrist, stopping her on the spot.

The U.S.S. Agent slowly shook his helmeted head when she looked up at him, and he looked back to the door, gesturing for her to stand aside as he took the lead again. She silently rolled her eyes in response, tucking back away the key when his hand retracted... but in the glow of the light around them, Carlos could make out the playful curl of her lips. It took Carlos all he had not to roll his own eyes... but he did smirk. In that instant she didn't look like the battered survivalist and elite cop she was... but a simple young woman, happy. And to think they had accused him of acting childish. What a pair of love struck hypocrites they made, scarcely hiding it... even if he hadn't heard the intimate words they probably shared. Not that they would ever admit it. Maybe instead of a zombie survival guide he could try his hand at penning the modern day Romeo And Juliet based on them. Romance sold well. Even between these two entirely differing people and an apocalyptic backdrop, it would probably be less melodramatic than Shakespeare. One hand gripping his submachine gun, HUNK rose the other, holding up three fingers in preparation for their entrance. Carlos, understanding at once that he intended to breach the door with weapons free, rose his rifle and aimed it carefully ahead. With their luck... something, or someone was waiting for them beyond. There never was a simple explanation, nor were they given a break. Somehow it just kept getting worse. The idea of fighting human opposition, if there were any more Monitors laying in wait, was almost an absurd concept at this point, in light of how many monsters he'd killed so far.

He'd almost forgotten the necessity of killing human enemies. He hadn't killed a human being, at least that he knew of, since South America. And all that seemed so long ago. Did he still have it in him anymore? Especially since finding his faith. Humans could be monsters... worse than the zombies... or very similar to them... but he had thought the worst of HUNK too... and what had the man turned out to be instead? Something more than his legend... something that gave Carlos hope. Someone, a person hiding in all those layers of armor, ice and secrecy. A man in need of redemption, who had a chance of it still, despite all he had done... things far worse than even Carlos had. Murder was a sin... but fighting was all Carlos was good at. For the first time he hoped and prayed it was monsters waiting for them, and not a human. If it was... he would do what he had to. Kill anyone he had to to protect them, their group, human or not. He wasn't a very good Catholic anyways. They had survived this long and would escape the city, whatever it took. Everything they had done to get here would not be for nothing. Captain Mikhail's sacrifice on that train would not be in vain... the sacrifices of all the men he'd dropped in with. He had to live. He had to tell the world the truth, of their courage. What they had fought for. He owed it to their memory. His eye remained on HUNK's hand as he began his countdown. Three. Two. One. The moment each of the fingers had dropped, HUNK drew back his boot and broke the locked door open with a muffled grunt and a single powerful blow of his combat boot. The side splintered as it burst open, squeaking on its hinges, slamming against the wall... and the masked agent was already sweeping inside at once, laser sight scanning the interior. Jill and Carlos were in after him at once, floorboards squeaking under all their boots, taking position on either of his flanks, weapons risen, covering him against any possible threat waiting.

"Clear."

Despite the agent's expert assessment, Carlos's alert eyes swept the entire cabin in one long, steady look... before deeming it all clear of threats human or otherwise for himself. Finally, he stood down, lowering his rifle, but keeping his grip tight upon it. Heart still beating quickly, he drew in a breath, letting it balance out as he took in the details of the cabin's interior. The subdued lighting of the interior greeted them, to the large main room of the cabin, hanging lights illuminating all that stood before them. Assorted tools, especially shovels and rakes hung on the wooden wall to their immediate left, or they lay scattered in front of the wall, along with a pair of dusty work coats that had belonged to the owner. Right next to it, along the eastern wall of the cabin was a fireplace, with a great deal of dry, chopped wood stacked up inside it, and a wheelbarrow leaned against the side. Off to the left of the main cabin door was a small desk with a couple wooden chairs drawn up, one of which had fallen over. The desk was complete with a phone on the surface, a pen and a leather bound book.

Further down past the desk and along the wall closest to it, were a couple of red wood cabinets, each door ajar and revealing a number of thick tombs and assorted sized books in each row. Whoever had lived here at least was a reader, and didn't lack for material. Glinting in the light inside the first cabinet was a long iron pipe of sorts, from what he could make out. Down in the corner past the book shelves was another rack of tools mounted to the wall... and right next to it a metal wheelbarrow. There was another wooden shelve just above the tools, holding on it a few metal coffee pots and cooking dishes. Further down, int the far corner of the cabin was another closed door, leading to some other section of the cabin. In the center of the cabin was a long table with an old blue table cloth draped over it.

There were a number of scattered plates, utensils a big metal tea kettle and empty green bottles of liquor all over it. Apparently the groundskeeper knew how to throw a party, or just liked his eating and drinking. There was a carton of milk and some other leftover rotting food on some of the plates, as though wherever he was he had stopped mid dinner. Carlos could even make out some, amusingly, jars of gunpowder of all things on the table, along with shotgun shells, both prepared and unprepared ones. He was used to the sight, as Alpha Team's weapon's expert, it had been on him to churn out spare rounds with the materials others brought him, when he'd been 'resting' on the train. That was about the most rest he'd gotten in those days, outside scavenging, reinforcing the barricades, pouring gas on the fires and helping hold the line. Making more makeshift weapons and ammunition to hold back the monsters outside. The stench of burning bodies had followed him everywhere. zombies... and his own infected friends who had to eventually be shot, and subsequently thrown on the fires.

There was no sign of the groundskeeper, either dead or alive... maybe he had escaped, or more likely he was out there with the horde, or shambling in the woods somewhere. Above all, there was no sign of the supposed Monitor outpost HUNK had informed them was supposed to be in the cabin. He was almost relieved, the last thing he'd wanted was lead flying in his direction, when he spent so long spraying it. When the zombies learned how to use guns, it would be well and truly over for him. Smart, fast zombies with guns... no thank you. He finally looked back at the others, glancing to the pair of them... but before he could talk, HUNK made a hand gesture and began to move. Jill followed him past Carlos, deeper into the cabin, sweeping past the desk, table and moving down towards the other door. They formed up on either side of it, weapons ready, shoulders against the wall and preparing to breach it without him. The Corporal, figuring they wouldn't need his help exploring the rest of the cabin, closed the open door of the cabin and slung his rifle over his shoulder and stood at ease, glancing off to the side. His gaze moved to the desk, to the closed book resting upon it. His hands found it out, picked it up and as HUNK's boot broke open the door in the corner, he began to pace absently over to the fireplace, turning the book over and examining the title.

A Farewell To Arms.

A literature classic, he knew... but one he'd never got around to reading in its entirety. The groundskeeper had good taste, between it and the other books Carlos saw lying around. He wouldn't be needing it anymore anyways. His eyes moved back to the fireplace, slowly rising over it, and freezing on the spot above it. Evidently the title of the book was not reflective of the owner. Carlos tucked away the book into his backpack and reached both hands up, grasping it and pulling it down off the mount, his eyes looking it over in awe. A sawed off double barrel shotgun had been hung over fireplace. It was a Remington, and comprised of a short walnut stock and cobalt blue steel. M37 custom design, from the look of it, complete with two triggers. He popped open the shotgun, checking to see if it was loaded... it wasn't, but that was easily remedied, he was sure he had a couple boxes of twelve gauge shells somewhere in his backpack. He'd hit the jackpot. All he needed now was a chainsaw to go with it and he'd be ready for anything out there. Probably even the Tyrant. Closing the barrel again, he turned it over in his hand, and then began to spin the shotgun around on his fingers, twirling it a couple times, before aiming it directly ahead and peering down the sights on the end.

"Groovy. Hey what the hell!"

A gloved hand had appeared from nowhere and clasped down on the twin barrels, pulling it from his slackened grip. A shock of surprise moved through Carlos as he started. He had been so focused on the shotgun that he'd forgotten all about them. That, or she was taking sneaking lessons from HUNK. Apparently they had finished checking out the back room. He looked over to his side to find Jill, looking it over with both hands, her sidearms tucked away. She wore a rather pleased expression on her features... though why shouldn't she? It was a hell of a weapon. And if anyone could appreciate it, it would be the three of them. Behind them, off to the side, Carlos felt HUNK's presence, but he paid no mind to them, rather he stood next to the center table, cocking his head, looking over the cabin carefully with his weapon lowered. Jill finally stopped looking over the shotgun, before meeting his eyes with a faint smirk, breaking the silence.

"I'll be confiscating this illegally obtained weapon, Corporal. Official S.T.A.R.S. business. Be grateful I don't book you for theft."

"What? Oh come on! You can't pull the cop card on me like HUNK does rank! You said you got fired anyways! I see no badge!"

"Umbrella doesn't seem to think so. That... thing, is programmed to kill S.T.A.R.S. And apparently that means I still qualify. Once a cop always a cop."

"Now you're just looking for loopholes...-"

"I lost the SPAS-12 you gave me, but it worked well on the Tyrant. Good stopping power. Staggers it back slightly. Not sure if that's still the case, after its mutations, but it's only fair I get to test out this one on it. Besides, you have plenty of guns already."

"Oh come on! I'm the weapons specialist here but you go through weapons like they're candy!"

Carlos complained in turn, glancing over to HUNK and gesturing his way. Specifically, to the modified long single barrel and stock of the W-870 Remington secured on his back in its position. The sleek grey steel glinted in the light, well kept like the rest of his gear. The agent had begun to pace around the room, seemingly paying them no further attention, searching for something, looking along the walls, moving to the book shelves and moving some of the books. Carlos looked from the agent and back to the officer with indignation.

"Why don't you just borrow HUNK's shotgun while you're at it and let me keep this?"

"I'm already borrowing his machine pistol. You want me to leave him completely unarmed?"

"Hey, from what we've seen him do, I bet all he needs is that combat knife. Or a pencil, some paper clips and duct tape. Watch him take down that big fucker with them."

"No arguments there.", Jill laughed, visibly unable to repress it, looking back at him with a conciliatory expression. She lowered the shotgun and turning it around, offering it to him stock first. His glanced between the two suspiciously. "Still... look on the bright side, Carlos. You can carry it for me in the meantime. I don't have any room... or anywhere to put it safely."

"What am I, a walking goddamn armory?", Carlos replied mock tiredly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, then back her way. The weight of all his weapons and the backpack didn't exactly sell his question."Ok, maybe I am, but the point stands. What happened to finders keepers?"

"You heard the lady, Oliveira."

"Lady? All I see is a thief. Man, you're biased as all hell. Playing favorites as usual with her, huh? Just because she's a good kisser doesn't make her right. I see how it is. Fine, fine.", Carlos conceded at last at the agent's cool yet withdrawn tone, grasping the blue steel shotgun by the handle and taking it from her. She looked a little gloating, but she didn't rub it in. Grumbling to himself, he tucked it carefully into his belt and secured some fastens around it in a makeshift holster. Once it was snug, testing it, he retracted his hand from it, glancing back their way with a shake of his head. It would hold, as long as he was careful. If not for the shortened barrel and smaller stock, securing it would have been too much of a cumbersome pain in the ass to bother. "Two on one, ganging up on the third wheel. That's fair alright. Next weapon we find is mine. Deal?"

"We'll see. If carrying it won't make you fall over."

"That's you, Jilly. Always looking out for my health."

"To serve and protect. And kindly don't call me by that name. My father called me that enough for one lifetime."

"Sore subject? Fair enough. My old man didn't win any father of the year medals himself. You guys find anything back there? I didn't hear any gunshots. Usually a good sign."

"All clear. It's just a storage shed, nothing else. Some tools and equipment. Another storage container and typewriter. Everywhere I turn it seems I find one of them, or find them together."

"I don't see how this place could be a Monitor outpost... unless they packed up and got the hell out of dodge. There were those bodies after all. Maybe your intel is wrong, HUNK."

"No. My U.I.D. contact doesn't make mistakes.", The U.S.S. Agent answered at last, rejoining them in front of the looked slowly between them. Then off past them, studying the fireplace intently. "It's here. Just a matter of where its been hidden. Spread out and help me search."

"Hey, hide and seek I can handle. Just as long as there's no more puzzles in store, I'm your guy."

With that, Carlos turned from the pair of them and left them at the fireplace, walking further down towards the table. As HUNK had been doing, he looked all over, glancing to the closed window of the cabin, watching the rain pour down it. He had no idea where a secret entrance or area might be hidden... it was a cabin, not a mansion. Jill had already ruled out the old book lever trick, at any rate, so he didn't bother with the shelves. He knelt down to the floor instead and tried another method, pressing a hand to the planks of the floorboards, testing them. Maybe they were mistaken and the room in question was underneath them... in a cellar of sorts. It would be the last place most anyone might look. He continued testing the boards and looking underneath the table, to little avail... while a couple were loose, they were not so loose as to be pulled off... and he could see no hidden handles for a possible cellar. No carpets either that one could be hiding under.

It was the damnedest thing. If only he'd had a pair of thermal goggles, might make everything easier for them. A pair would have been useful, throughout the outbreak... but he supposed guinea pigs like them weren't worth the cost of a pair to Umbrella. He was about to move over to the storage room, certain they hadn't looked through it properly, when there was some rummaging back in HUNK and Jill's direction. He looked up from where he knelt to find the two of them kneeling in front of the fireplace, picking up and throwing aside each piece of the stack of firewood inside, clearing it out. The wood clattered against the floor beside the fireplace, and the two of them leaned in, studying the inside of it more closely. He heard them murmuring to one another, but couldn't make out the low toned words. Whispering sweet nothings as usual, probably, he almost rolled his eyes to the back of his head. Carlos, clearing his throat, spoke up at last, breaking over their private conversation and reminding them he was still in the room.

"That's not how you start a fire. The wood usually stays inside the fireplace."

"Make yourself useful. Bring over the iron bar in the book cabinet, Oliveira. We found something."

HUNK's muffled tone addressed him without even bothering looking back. They continued talking to one another carefully, remaining where they were, and this time he did roll his eyes. What was he, a ghost now too? He was already chopped liver, good for manual labor. All their time together speaking silently, and Carlos was starting to think there was something more to what they whispered about. He wondered if it was about him. Or whatever the hell the agent's mission was. Did they even really trust him yet, after everything that had transpired? The thought gave him a pang of bitterness... if she could trust HUNK, even after what she knew of him, how was Carlos more difficult to? Because she wasn't nearly as sweet on him? Was that the criteria for trust now? Exhausted, weary mind stewing over it, he obeyed the agent reluctantly at last. He stood up beside the table and crossed the room over to the book cabinets, to the one containing the long iron pipe. He picked it up and carried it back over to the fireplace, where by now both Jill and HUNK were standing, moving to their side. He looked down into the fireplace, and immediate saw what the agent had discovered. There was a single brick missing from the back of the fireplace, and yet light was streaming through it. He couldn't see much, but he could make out plenty of space beyond it.

Well. That had been simple enough to find, anyways. He passed off the iron pipe to HUNK and stood back, unslinging his rifle and aiming it in the direction of the fireplace, just in case. Standing on the opposite side of HUNK, Jill had done the same thing with her pistols.

The agent rose the pipe and slammed its end powerfully and loudly into the stacked up bricks at the back. The single blow was enough to displace several more bricks, knocking them back into the hidden room beyond. He slipped the pipe through the section, and pulling it upward firmly, the rest of the bricks parted and fell down towards them in a cloud of dust, the section giving way. The moment he had broken through, HUNK dropped the iron pipe off to the side without missing a beat, unslinging his submachine gun and lowering to one knee pad, aiming through the scope, laser sight exploring beyond. Carlos held his breath, but had the feeling that if any Monitors were beyond, the shooting would have already started. Regardless, he wasn't taking chances anymore where surprises were concerned. At last HUNK seemed satisfied, and with a hand gesture for them to hold position, he moved into the fireplace, crouching lower, pushing aside some of the bricks to clear it out better, then vanishing beyond into the backroom. There was nothing for a few moments save the patter of boots on floorboards... and then they stopped, and his muffled tone emerged once more from the hole in the wall.

"All clear. Move up."

Before Carlos could start forward, Jill was already down, with a pained breath, and moving carefully through the hole. In a flash she had disappeared beyond as well... and lowering his rifle, grunting as he followed suit, Carlos kicked aside a few more of the bricks, keeping his head low so he wouldn't bang it on the top of the fireplace. Passing through the hole after them, he rose back to his feet to find a spacious room beyond. Carlos released a low impressed whistle as he took it in, looking past the two of them. Sure enough, they stood in the Monitor outpost HUNK had told them of was the real deal. Not that he'd thought the man was lying about this... what else would have made him divert from his mission? From their escape? They wouldn't have been here unless HUNK had been certain something like this was here. As the two of them moved forward and began to explore the cluttered room together, Carlos hung back near the fireplace, quietly observing the sights with a sweeping look.

"Looks like your contact wasn't bullshitting."

"Yes."

Off to the left, at the far corner of that side of the room were a couple tall shelves that were falling about and dilapidated. A couple hung down on one end, looking close to falling apart from wear and tear. There were numerous boxes, books, a wind fan and assorted equipment still hanging on them, while in the corner to the left of the three cabinets was a pile of stacked sandbags, and to the right of them in the opposite side of the corner stood a trio of red and blue gas cans. The room resembled more than anything else a repurposed storage shed of sorts... that had been moved into some time ago by the Monitors. A long wooden table lay in front of Carlos in the middle of the room, covered in assorted maps and papers. There was a small opened crate with a radiation symbol on it... but whatever its contents had been he wasn't sure, it was empty.

A single hanging ambient light illuminated the table and the room. Just beyond the table hung another large map, of the entirety of Raccoon City, pinned up on the wall, with certain sections of it shaded in green marker. Carlos couldn't make out the details of it, but could imagine what the map contained. There were other papers and junk strewn all over the floor at their feet, as though numerous people had been bustling through the area. Further down, in the north east corner of the room a tall green chalkboard had been set up. There were numerous notes and markings in white chalk on it, including a rough drawn map and some photographs taped up. On the wall close to it, on the east side of the room a big bulletin board as well had been set up on the wall. Like the cluttered table, it was covered in letters, documents, sheets and maps, all pinned by an assortment of multi colored pins. All in all, it seemed, the whole room was devoted to intelligence gathering. To his immediate right, at a quick glance next to the opening in the fireplace, a coat rack hung, with a single U.B.C.S. outfit hanging freely from it. Whoever had been here had made themselves quite at home. Carlos's gaze drifted back to his left side, to the bundle of sandbags and the collapsing cabinets. While the other two explored the room, Carlos moved down closer towards the cabinets, searching through the equipment, pressing the safety and slinging his rifle again.

The shelves were mostly comprised of cobweb covered cardboard boxes and other assorted junk... but as his eye moved to the center of the shelf in front of him, he spotted a familiar, and welcome sight that brought a smile to his face. A case of grenade shells. He'd scavenged more than a few of them in the days since he'd been dropped in Raccoon City. Hell, he'd even made some with supplies aboard the train. High explosive shells with a grey tint, Napalm Rounds with a red tint, Acid Rounds with a green tint... even frost coated Freeze Rounds, blue tinted. Cryogenic and liquid nitrogen compacted within the shells, with a device connected to them to keep them cold. He's seen the damage they could do... but they were a rarity. He knew he had some of each tucked into his backpack, stowed away. Still... the case was a damn good find. From the markings on it, he discerned quickly it was of the high explosive variety. Simple, but effective. And a hell of a lot easier to come by than the other varieties. Carlos removed the bulky backpack and opened it back up, digging around for some room. When he had found enough, he grasped the small case and opened it up, examining the glinting six metal rounds within. He'd found another like it back at the park office lockers, and had slid the shells into his side packs, while Valentine had been looking around. In this case, he didn't exactly want to heft more grenades on his belt... so he closed back up the case and tucked it into his backpack.

When he had closed the backpack, took it back up and secured the straps in place, he stood again, feeling some measure of satisfaction at his find... his talents. Even in a dusty old cobwebbed room he could find something useful. In hindsight, as terrifying as leaving the train yard had been each time he was sent on a scavenger runs downtown and uptown for supplies and looking for other survivors, a mission Captain Mikhail at the time had dubbed Operation: Mad Jackal, it had been liberating. Exciting. The fear would illicit something inside him... and he had felt alive. Out there in the field, making a difference, however small. It had always been short lived, of course... the true horror of what he was in the middle of settling in. Jill had been right... they were a team. He needed to be in a team dynamic, like he'd had with his fellow mercenaries. Their talents had complimented one another, and without them having all been together, even as they were picked off one by one, they never could have accomplished the sheer miracle of holding the train station long enough for him to run across HUNK and Jill. He mourned his fallen friends and brothers in arms... and the innocent civilians and the police officers that had tried to help them, even now. He remembered running through the streets after they'd been dropped on the rooftops. Remembered the horde marching down Main Street... slaughtering so many SWAT officers and cops. He remembered the rattle of the .50 Calibers, rockets, grenades, rifles and sniper fire. The squeal of tires... a U.B.C.S. Humvee running down a crowd of zombies.

The bodies had flew everywhere... raining like the droplets from the sky. An APC cutting off the horde's access to the street, saving many lives. If only for a time.

He remembered a terrified little blonde girl lost amid the chaos of fleeing civilians, in a blue and white school uniform. She'd nearly been trampled, as Carlos forced himself through the crowd towards her. One of the zombies had grabbed and nearly bitten her... but Carlos had taken off its head in time. He'd carried the girl away from the stampede and the dead, getting her clear to safety. She'd been adamant that she reach the Raccoon Police Department, against Carlos's assurances it had probably been overrun by now. That she needed to stick with him. That he'd keep her safe. He had promised her that he would. She had told him her mother had told her to go to the R.P.D... and that she needed to find her mother. Carlos had been about to say more, when the Captain had barked orders at him, to form up with the rest of the squad and turn back a group of zombies and creatures that had come into view. To cover the rest of the civilians escape. He'd told the girl to stay where she was, and had turned for only a few moments, obeying his orders and shooting down the zombies. When the area had been secured, he'd looked back for the girl. She'd fled. Like the other civilians. In the days that came, he tried in vain to search for her where he could. He hadn't even shared his name with her, or gotten hers. She was probably one of them now... out there shambling in the streets, her clean school uniform filthy with blood and grime, her eyes as dead as the rest of her. Blood staining the metal of the golden locket she'd been wearing. He closed his eyes tightly and forced the haunting image away. Another regret, of the many forming since his time here.

He must have been half crazy, to even consider any of it... 'fun'... but in its own twisted way, it was. Battling one horror after another. Fighting back against it, resisting despair. He was becoming so used to this world he was starting to wonder if he'd ever leave it. Even knowing that one way or another, come the morning, he would. This battlefield of one task after another... the pain, exhaustion, terror... was becoming his home, even while they were doing all they could escaping from it. But there was one good thing he still had left... that they had brought with them. He hadn't known it right away, but as time had gone on, the longer he'd spent with them... the more hope dawned within him. It wasn't much... but it was something. More than he'd had before he met them. Even with their secrets and mystery. He would never have survived all this alone. Wouldn't have stood a chance. As they did now.

"There's another body back here."

Carlos turned his head at the words, to find HUNK standing between the chalkboard and bulletin board on the opposite side of the room, examining each carefully. Carlos navigated over to the map on the wall with the green markings on it, in front of the table, looking around the table and over to where Jill was standing. Sure enough she was right... a blood soaked dark haired figure lay in the corner against some boxes with Umbrella markings on them, with a steady puddle flowing from underneath him. In life he'd been an Asian man, and like the other bodies he was dressed in the green, black and beige U.B.C.S. uniform, vest and pants, all of them stained. He lay next to a big radio transmission device that had been just out of sight when he had stood in front of the fireplace entrance. The machine was complete with numerous blinking lights and screens, a vibrant glowing red light stood out most prominently in its center The transmission device had a microphone and its machinery was plugged into a power generator. The machine and wall was splattered with blood and grey matter, and the mercenary's arm was propped up on the seat beside him, almost as if he was posed in a mock relaxed position. Carlos averted his eyes over to the wall, resisting the urge to gag at the obscene sight and the gore. It never got easier. He could handle it, but the day he was fine with it would be the day he took after HUNK. Which he knew, in spite of everything the agent had going for him, was not a good thing. Jill remained where she was, standing over the body and the machine, examining each carefully.

"Just like the others. No dog tags. Shot in the back of the head. Another Monitor. What the hell is going on around here?"

She slowly shook her head and rose again, bruised features visibly perturbed. Looking back over her shoulder, she glanced between HUNK over by the chalkboard, and Carlos by the map. Disregarding the machine, she moved back over to the table, tucking away her sidearms, and beginning to study the contents of the table, rummaging through papers. Searching for something, anything. HUNK by now had turned away from the chalkboard, and studied the body as she had. He was silent for a few moments, over the rummaging of papers, but his muffled tone spoke at last.

"He was here... killed the Monitor and the ones outside. Even left the key. But he didn't clean out everything here. He's up to something. This operations room is probably his attempt to lure us into a trap. You both should have went to the Dead Factory without me."

"You're just being paranoid now, man.", Carlos declared with a skeptical smile. As much as he had considered the possibility of the Sergeant coming back, it just didn't add up. Nikolai was in the clear now, he could escape as he pleased. He knew like the rest of them the nuke was on his way, why waste time? If it were him, he'd be putting as much distance between himself and Raccoon City as possible. "There's no way Nikolai would come back all this way, he probably split by now. Especially after leveling the university. What could he have left to deal with around here?"

"Us. Unfinished business. I know him better than you."

"Maybe we got lucky for once and he blew himself up at the university. I know, I'm reaching, but even we deserve some good fortune at this point."

"The way he blew himself up at the hospital? He doesn't make mistakes. He's been planning the moment the three of us reached the train. Crossed his path."

"Good point. I don't even want to get into how he survived that four story drop. Probably carrying a rabbit's foot."

"He would have taken all these files with him, if he wasn't planning on coming back here. I can't find his laptop, but he would not have left all... this, lying around for no reason."

"Speaking of files...", Came Jill's voice from where she stood at the table, breaking over their conversation. She waved a pair of folders that had been laying atop a map in their directions, and lowered it, peering down at and opening the first. She began to scan over the contents, glancing up at them briefly. "These look like they might be interesting. They were laying right here out in the open. You boys interested in hearing it?"

"Yes."

"We're all ears, Jill."

"It's a fax sent by 'HQ', apparently. Wherever that is. Here it is: Attention. The Raccoon City project has been abandoned. Our political maneuvering in the Senate to delay their plans are now futile. All Supervisors should evacuate immediately. The US Army is going to execute their plan tomorrow morning. The city will be obliterated at day break for sure."

A silence returned over the room after she finished reading the fax. Jill continued looking over the paper, rereading it silently, while HUNK peered off in the distance, remaining where he was. There was something different about hearing it aloud, directly from a document from Umbrella, no less. He had known since HUNK dropped the bomb on him aboard the train... but an actual document holding the information was different. Carlos mused it over... the company had its hands in far places. All the way up to the US Government of all places. Carlos remembered Bard's friendship with Senator Tester, their correspondence at the hospital. Who knew how many agents Umbrella had infiltrated into various positions and sectors in government? A global corporation... the largest and most powerful in the world. More and more, everything Umbrella related was starting to sound like one big conspiracy. Though to be perfectly fair, conspiracy was exactly what they were known for... the presence of one of their agents was all the proof one needed. At this rate, next they'd probably find out Lord Spencer had had JFK shot. Carlos and HUNK remained silent, considering the operations room... while Jill's tired voice spoke again at last.

"Nothing we didn't already know. Figures Umbrella has Senators on their payroll, buying time. Politicians playing with people's lives, suppressing the truth and lining their own pockets from special interests... they already had Mayor Warren... so why not Senators? To hell with them. Their day will come."

"Yes. It will."

At the agent's voice, Jill, remaining at the table, at last folded up and tucked away the paper into one of her pouches. Then she drew her attention to the second file she had uncovered. HUNK remained where he was, paying neither of them any mind, looking back to the bulletin board... while Carlos looked on with interest. Jill had begun to read the file... but unlike with the first one, she did not read its contents aloud. Rather she read it silently... with a visibly growing grimness. By the end, she seemed to be continually rereading it, the apprehension in her eyes growing all the more undeniable. Carlos felt a pang of concern growing. She was silent for so long, that even HUNK, seemingly in his own world, had paused, looking back over his shoulder to her at the table.

"Hey, Jill...", Carlos broke the silence with genuine growing concern, raising a brow. He remained where he was, in spite of his instinct to walk over to her. He knew someone else was already on it. "What is it? You ok, lady?"

No response came back in return. Jill looked at both of them as though she had only just realized they were present... then she looked back down to the paper and continued to read. Sure enough, HUNK's figure moved away from the chalkboard and bulletin boards he had been examining. He stepped over to the table, joining her at it and standing at her side. Carlos watched on silently, his eyes flickering between the two of them. Whatever Jill had uncovered, it had seriously unnerved her. She had the same look on her face as she had down in the drainage sewer. When that... thing, had passed off in the distance. The same one on the train, as the Tyrant had murdered Captain Mikhail. The recognition in her gaze... and the horror were one and the same, her lips parting. Not much frightened her, he knew... but whatever was in the second file sure as hell had. The agent settled a steadying grip on the arm holding the letter, and he leaned down closer to her, his low muffled tone reserved for her alone.

"Valentine? What did you find?"


Supervisor Chan's Report

The endurance ability of the contaminated guinea pigs is truly incredible. Even when shot in a vital area, they can sometimes survive for several days without taking care of the wound. However, after prolonged exposure to the virus, the guinea pigs' intelligence level decreases to that of an insect. Even though reviving the dead seems too disgusting, the virus may still be of use. If we inject the virus into our POW's and release them, they would return to their units and then turn into zombies. This plan may work well for us in the future.

In certain areas, the T-Virus seems to have caused the mutation of animals and plants. It may be difficult, but it'll make a good sample for Umbrella's bioweapons development. I've heard that there is a giant alligator in the sewers, but I have only encountered a giant creature moving underground. I don't even want to imagine what creature spawned that monster. Or how long it had taken to mutate to such a size. I can only imagine what has become of Raccoon Zoo. Unfortunately I have been unable to make it out there to see, as of yet.

On a more positive note, I encountered the Sixth Laboratory's Las Plagas inspired experimental NE-α Type Parasite imbued Tyrant, codenamed "Nemesis", granting it intelligence beyond any previous model. Sentience, perhaps. The Colonel will be pleased with his son's progress. If I didn't know about it, the best ways to avoid it, I might have been contaminated and would have become one of the infected by now. God knows what those it infects might become. Some parasitic, tentacled monstrosity. If it is still walking around in the city, its mission is not yet over. The primary guinea pig named Valentine remains out there, somewhere. S.T.A.R.S. members must be very tough, for one to survived until this point. However, she cannot hold out forever...

Jill reread it, over and over, drifting away with the words. She heard their voices, as though from down a long tunnel. She read. She kept reading. And she read it again. But it always came down to one word among them. A name. A name for the thing she was most afraid of. Fear rarely had an all encompassing name... but that thing had it. Their Tyrant. Their Pursuer. Titles, not names. Nothing that set it apart. She hadn't expected to ever discover it... much less out of the blue, here and now of all places. The idea of it having a name... gave it something. Just like its intelligence and cunning did. It existed. It had a name. A purpose. A mind. Everything it was... everything they had made it, was all for her. Every bit of it existed because of her. Because of what she had done at the Mansion. The threat she posed. The scientists had gone happily to their labs and had birthed a nightmare, for her. For the crime of surviving. Of seeing more than she should have. And as much as she feared the thing. Hated it. Wanted it dead. The only thing she wanted more than that, or escape, was to get her hands on every scientist that had created it. To ask them why. Why they would have done this to her... to Brad, and to any of the others if they had stayed in Raccoon City.

She wanted to cry. To laugh. To scream and shout in their faces. To throttle them to death. To show them even a measure of the rage and raw emotion she felt. But they were faceless, distant puppet masters, pulling the strings of their creation. Watching from afar with an omniscient eye. And she was as powerless against them as she had been against it. She didn't understand how these faceless entity's could do it, go home and look in a mirror after a day in some laboratory, creating death. But then, why should they care? Their hands were clean. It was their invention... probably greatest invention that was doing all the dirty work. What did it matter to them who it killed? Umbrella did not tend to hire its employees for their moral compunctions, rather for their talents. The bottom line and results were all that mattered. Everyone else be damned. In a world she realized more and more was devoid of justice, she knew the men and women that had made it would never receive what they deserved. She hated them all, more than she had hated someone before.

"Valentine."

Wordlessly, Jill handed the report off to him, and stood, staring ahead quite blankly. At her side, she dimly heard him slinging his submachine gun, before reading the letter silently as she did. She didn't see either of them... she was lost in her thoughts. The beating of her heart racing in her ears. The numbness overtaking even her aches and pains. Time seemed to slow, and she seemed to drift, as though on a cloud in her dreams. As helpless as in her nightmares. Every night the mansion had returned to her. Beside her, HUNK, having read through the contents, lowered the letter slowly, his muffled tone gradually returning.

"The Greek Goddess of Divine Vengeance. Nemesis. Frankl's sick sense of humor. Umbrella Europe's Sixth Laboratory in France created it. Paris Facility. They named it as well as they made it."

"Umbrella always does, don't they? Cerberus. Hunter. Tyrant. Nemesis.", She spoke it aloud... it rolled off her tongue and became reality, the name of the enemy. She thought back, days ago, remembering one of the documents she had scavenged from the Umbrella store room Uptown. The Sixth Laboratory... she had been so close to the truth all along, carried it with her... only now were all the pieces of this coming together. Feeling her despair returning... threatening again. "The inescapable agent of someone's downfall. Well. They weren't wrong..."

"Valentine. Listen to me.", His low tone murmured, changing its tone to a barely noticeable degree. But she picked up the change at once... subtle, like everything else about him, but clear as day to one that cared. Cared enough to know him as a person. "It will not live up to its name. It hasn't, after all this time. After every attempt."

"Yet. It almost did, and won't stop until it does. I'm just bait for that thing, and as long as both of you are around me, it will keep trying to kill you. You should have left me in the courtyard, when you had the chance. Like you should have let me burn in that apartment. It killed Brad. Mikhail already died because of me. Now you're both fair game... secondary on its list. You shouldn't die with me... because of me."

"I stand by my decision, Valentine. Then and now. To the end. As the Captain did his.", HUNK's low tone replied without hesitation. His gloved fingers moved to her chin, turning her head back in his direction, forcing her to meet his lenses. She blinked slowly back at her red reflections. "And I wouldn't alter it if I could. Wouldn't change a moment of any of this. Apart from the Leech Man, perhaps..."

Jill breathed at his comforting words, unable to repress an instinctive laugh at the last dry toned sentence. Closing her eyes. She resisted the impulse to spill more tears... shocked more than anything she had any left to spill. A relief, slow but steady, picked up through her. Quickened in her heart. Gradually, it began to overtake even the fear. She opened her eyes again to her twin red reflections. He'd been there in the courtyard... fighting with her... been there for what felt so long. He was her other half, fighting their Pursuer. Fighting everything. He always had her back and took care of her while she took care of him. She wasn't sure if she believed in fate, or destiny... they were novel romantic concepts. But she belonged as she did, here and now, with him. With both of them. Carlos stood off on the other side of the table, next to a marked map a bit awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, but he offered her a reassuring smile when their eyes met. She returned it... understanding the awkward position he was in. How much of a third wheel he must have felt. All the same, he gave them their space when he could. When they needed to speak quietly. She appreciated it a great deal. Slowly she looked back to the agent.

"That Leech Man again... wish I had been there to help. Both times."

"Believe me... you were better off missing out on them."

"Perhaps so... if even half of what Rebecca told me is true. Now we've got other parasites to contend with, apparently. What is... 'Las Plagas'?"

"A parasite located in a mountain region of Spain. Some ancient cult worshiped them out there... there have been a number of stories dating back hundreds of years. Umbrella hasn't yet been able to get their hands on a live specimen. Lord Spencer was interested for a brief time... sent an excavation team out there, led by U.S.S.'s founder... I was there too, aiding the security forces, in case the neighboring villagers got riled. The scientists were only able to turn up fossilized specimens of the parasites in rocks. The tissue samples too degraded to be of much use... beyond an inspiration. A partial blueprint. Lord Spencer gave up quickly, focused his sights elsewhere. On other projects. He was always like that... quickly gaining interest in something... then as quickly dropping it for the next ambitious venture. Parasites have been a side project at best compared to viruses in the bioweapons division of Umbrella... and the other companies. They're too unstable, difficult to control or cure... possibly more dangerous. Doctor James Marcus didn't think so, back in his day. Hence the leeches. Frankl and his team didn't think so either. Wanted to apply it to the Tyrant project, increase their intelligence, Colonel Vladimir was all for dusting off the parasite project and making use of it that way. I wasn't aware Frankl had successfully created one, yet. Made this breakthrough. This isn't good."

"That's putting it mildly. Infected and mutations have been bad enough... but intelligent parasites?", Jill returned with disquiet, attempting to digest all the revelations he gave to her freely. Likely top secret Umbrella information he had been sworn to secrecy over. More and more... he slowly gave things away to her. Surprising her. Why? She didn't know... but she welcomed his honesty. Honesty his employment had prevented for years. Honesty to her of all people. "Can you imagine an army of them? People infected by them? An entire city, like this? A brand new sentient being... the first of its kind. And now its gunning for me. Was created to kill me."

"It will not succeed. Regardless of the parasite's capabilities. We shall see to that."

"More of an optimist than I am. Never thought I'd say that."

"Not optimism, realism. Everything dies, Valentine. Today is its day. Not yours."

"Still haven't given up on me?"

"Never.", HUNK's low, calm tone promised her, and she believed him in that moment. His gloved hand offered her back the report simply. She glanced between it and her reflections in his lenses with a measure of hesitation. "The letter was right about one thing. You are tough. No guinea pig. Keep it. You have evidence on them, now. Your enemy. Proof."

"Yes... I do don't I?", Jill agreed slowly, her eyes lowering to the offered document. Reluctantly, she took it from him, folding it up and tucking it away out of sight with the other papers she'd found. She looked back up at him, and went on. "In their arrogance, they leave trails that can be used to follow them. It's why they need to destroy this city so desperately. Wherever Umbrella goes, whatever it does, it leaves a trail... one that will be its undoing, one day. They know it too. That's why you exist, in the role you do. Umbrella Security Service. Why you've had to clean up so many of their messes."

"Yes."

"This is what you came here for... isn't it? Wasn't just about looking for data to cover your ass... it was about the Tyrant.", Jill gradually came to the realization... looking at him as though seeing him for the first time. "You wanted to know more about it. Where it came from. What it was. Anything else you could. To find out if the Monitors knew... how involved they were. How high it goes. Isn't that right?"

"I... suspected the outpost held such information. I was correct."

"Why?"

"Further evidence. To hold those responsible for sending it here without clearance accountable. Colonel Vladimir. Frankl. The Sixth Laboratory."

"For me? For endangering your mission? Or because that's just your job at Umbrella? Security."

"It's time to leave, Jill."

"That's alright. I think I have my answer."

Jill's quiet voice returned... the warm smile touching her lips... not even the prospect of the Nemesis could remove it. Her heart beating faster in her chest, the warmth spreading there. He merely met her gaze, letting it linger there for a time. Before they could all start back to the fireplace, the transmission device received a call, breaking the near silence, apart from the sounds of rain beating on the rooftop. And everyone paused where they were. They listened, looking back at the source of the sounds as the machine began to beep rapidly, awaiting confirmation, and at once HUNK turned from the table and moved down to the device. Jill, with curiosity, followed suit, and Carlos remained where he was next to the table. Jill moved quickly to HUNK's side, standing near the body of Monitor Chan... for a moment contemplating reaching for the receiver... but HUNK beat her too it, flicking a switch on the microphone. A hint of static came through the line, and over that a man's voice became audible.

"Monitor Command to all Monitor outposts. Attention all Supervisors. By order of the Captain of the Guard, Operation Watchdog has been terminated. Return to the closest extraction point. Repeat, all remaining Supervisors return to the Leviathan immediately. Over."

The voice vanished from the line, and the static with it, leaving only silence. And questions. Jill wondered who the voice worked for... if it belonged to U.B.C.S., or the Board Of Directors. There was so much about Umbrella's factions and command structure she still didn't understand, even with all the investigating she had done since the Arklay incident. Carlos gave no sign of recognition of the voice either, looking more confused than she was. But her attention was on HUNK's reaction... the stiffening of his shoulders and stance, and his silence. He knew something. Of course he did... with how deeply involved in it all he was.

"That can't be good.", Carlos observed from the sidelines at last, breaking the quiet. He scratched his head and smirked a bit wryly, attempting to hide his obvious unease. "An incoming nuclear strike would explain a few things though. If the Monitors are running away, we should be too right now, shouldn't we? Huh, guys? Preferably while the chopper is still there?"

HUNK ignored him, remaining focused on the transmission device, while Jill remained focused on the agent. She was half expecting HUNK to turn from the device and lead them off again. Depart immediately for the Dead Factory. But HUNK surprised her yet again. He flicked the microphone to its speaking function and leaned in, gloved hand gripping the microphone, the main nozzle of his mask pressing against it. His low, authoritative tone addressing the voice that had come from the other line.

"Monitor Command. This is Monitor Outpost 4. Come in. Over."

"Outpost 4, reading you loud and clear. You've been down for hours. What is your current status? Over."

"We're packing up right now and preparing to evacuate to Incineration Disposal Plant P-12A.", HUNK informed him truthfully, looking down at the corpse near Jill's feet. Jill did as well, the blood and grey matter dripping from the Monitor's skull. The two of them shared a look, before looking back ahead to the device. "I have some questions first. Over."

"Hell of a time for a refresher. Go ahead. Over."

"Has the Colonel retrieved what he's searching for? Over."

"Not yet. At his last transmission from his gunship, U.M.F.-013 is still inside the facility. Shouldn't take too much longer for him to recover. Over."

Jill and Carlos exchanged a look at last. Carlos looked utterly bewildered by the conversation taking place, yet impressed by HUNK's maneuver. Jill found herself feeling the same way, and holding her breath. Unsure what he was attempting to accomplish, but liking it. He seemed to be playing the other man like a fiddle. A cunning she hadn't expected from a marble statue of a man. Somehow he kept on surprising her with hidden talents. The voice on the other line may have been a fellow Umbrella employee, but it was clear he was no friend or ally of HUNK's. Was giving up information the agent desired, not knowing who he was speaking to.

"What is the status of the other Supervisors? Over."

"Most of them have been confirmed K.I.A., dropped out of contact or have already evacuated, as of now. Yours is the only confirmed remaining active Outpost. Over."

"What is the status of Raccoon University? Over."

"Destroyed. The team dispatched to retrieve or eliminate the rogue Tyrant codenamed Thanatos was exterminated by it, with the exception of Supervisor Zinoviev. Operation: Emperor's Mushroom was a failure. But Doctor Mueller's bounty has been collected by him. Over."

"The Tyrant Colonel Vladimir dispatched to the Raccoon City Police Department. What is its status? Over."

"T-00 has been confirmed destroyed. Along with NEST when its self destruction sequence was initiated by person or persons unknown. Whatever its classified mission was, is a failure. Over."

"The five T-103 Series Tyrants dropped off at the Incineration Disposal Plant? Their status and that of the military personnel they were sent to eliminate? Over."

"Status of both parties unknown. All Umbrella security camera feeds there were cut off by the military before the Tyrants were dropped. Watch yourself when you get there and expect the worst. Especially the closer Operation: Bacillus Terminate draws. Over."

"We will. Are there any other priority missions? What are their statuses? Over."

"Monitor Torihata, Sergeant Claus and their team have failed to report in for the procurement of Doctor Cameron and her research data into an unknown biological agent she was working on. It was one of the Colonel's priority missions besides UNF-103. Spencer himself authorized it. It is believed they have failed Operation: Executer. Over."

HUNK met Jill's eyes again, watching her as closely as she was him. For a second he seemed about to hang up on the man on the other side. Then he turned back to the microphone and leaned in one more time. Activating the transmitter.

"One more question. The experimental parasite Tyrant searching for S.T.A.R.S. Officers, codenamed Nemesis. Where is its current location?"

"Also unknown, we've lost sight of it. We don't have any tracking devices on it... but the Sixth Laboratory overseeing it probably does. They're keeping it to themselves. Last known location from our own data was the clock tower, two days ago. It took down one of the evacuation helicopters the U.B.C.S. dispatched there. It could be anywhere in the city by now. Wherever Valentine goes, it will. Find her, find it. Over."

HUNK looked back at her again carefully. Both of them. She could feel his eyes moving between them. She found herself watching him back with bated breath. He seemed to be considering something intently. He glanced off slowly to the side away from them. Then back down to the transmitter... speaking up into it again icily.

"Thanks for the heads up. Idiot. Give Colonel Vladimir my regards when he returns to the Leviathan, Murdock. Tell your boss I'm coming to get him."

"What...- wait a minute... how do you... you aren't a Supervisor. How the hell did you find that outpost and this frequency?! Who the fuck are you?! Identify yourself at once!"

"Death. Over and out."

His cold voice signed off to the alarmed man on the other end, his grip tightening on the microphone. Unceremoniously, HUNK rose and drew his shotgun from its spot on his back, took it up in both hands and blew apart the transmission device. A deafening thunderous boom roared through enclosed space at the high powered shell. Jill jumped back with alarm, her heart beating rapidly as sparks flew around them. For his part, Carlos uttered out a loud curse of surprise, hands shooting up to his ears. Pumping the shotgun hard, the U.S.S. Agent fired again, breaking apart the machinery further, and fired a third and fourth shell for good measure. Electricity danced visibly within the device, and the glowing lights blinked out and faded altogether. As last the smoking machine died, and the final Monitor outpost in Raccoon City did so with it. HUNK rapidly loaded four fresh shells from his belt into the shotgun, before pumping it, pressing the safety and slinging it across his back again in a fluent motion. Then he drew a low muffled breath, turned back to the shocked pair, as though nothing out of the usual had transpired, unslinging his submachine gun casually. Glancing between the two of them, as though nothing had just happened.

"That was fucking awesome. Don't even try to pretend you have no sense of humor. I know a badass one liner when I hear it.", Carlos spoke up from the side with a deepening broad grin on his face, in spite of his shock. He shook his head and uttered a laugh. Jill found she couldn't repress an appreciative smile herself, once she had recovered from the shock. "Remind me never to ask you to fix my car. Goddamn... my ears are still ringing. I think you just got that poor, dumb bastard fired. From his job or life, either one is likely. Probably both."

"Hopefully. Never liked him."

"Operation: Bacillus Terminate...", Jill spoke up, considering the strange operation name that had been revealed, looking back HUNK's way, puzzled. "What is that?"

"The U.S. Government's official operation name for the destruction of Raccoon City."

"No idea what it means... hate to admit it, but it's a lot catchier than 'Sterilization Operation'."

"Operation: Executer? What's that about?"

"Doctor Yurika Cameron. One of Lord Spencer's favorites, from the Umbrella Japan Laboratory. Was working on something important for him, clearly. She's likely dead by now. Irrelevant to our current escape."

"World's probably better off... if she was keeping friends like Spencer."

"And U.M.F.-013...", Jill cut over Carlos's grim words, placing a hand instinctively on HUNK's arm. The mask's lenses turned back her way again, giving her his attention. Her reflections looking back at herself, imploring him for answers. "What is it, HUNK? It's important to Umbrella, isn't it?"

"There's nothing more important than it. Umbrella's primary computing system core. All research data. Colonel Vladimir nearly has his hands on it. In all likelihood at Lord Spencer's behest.", HUNK slowly explained after a long, hesitant pause. For a long moment, Jill noted, it had looked as though he might not speak. Ultimately, he decided to again, revealing ever more of how much he knew. How deep in it all he was. And again she wondered how he had come to know as much as he did. And why. "It possesses the Umbrella Archives, information on every branch of the company. Network failure notifications, network monitoring notifications and the Umbrella Chronicles. It also contains the RED QUEEN and WHITE QUEEN. Two sentient artificial intelligence programs responsible for overseeing and protecting Umbrella's assets. Originally modeled after Umbrella's true heiress."

"Wait, hold the goddamn phone a minute. AI's? Those actually exist?", Carlos interrupted in the wake of the revelations before Jill could speak, visibly stunned and reeling, trying to comprehend it. "I mean, zombies sure... mutated biological monsters, alright... but HAL 9000's sisters? Really?"

"Yes. Umbrella has access to the world's most advanced technologies. Created a number of them."

"A global corporation, conspiracies, murderous AI's, mad scientists, secret agents, viral bioweapons, zombies, test tank mutated freaks and walking sentient parasites. Is there anything left on the supervillain checklist Spencer hasn't crossed off yet? Don't tell me he works with aliens as well."

"So... basically Colonel Vladimir is going after Umbrella's Holy Grail?", Jill inquired quietly, ignoring Carlos's exasperated aside, very much troubled by the implications. The looming danger it posed to the world... to the future. "Something they could rise from the ashes with, even after all this?"

"Essentially."

"Did you know about this all along?"

"I suspected. Like the Tyrant. Now I know the truth. I got more out of him than I expected to."

"If they get the core out of the city, they'll be able to rebuild.", Jill reasoned in turn, her eyes filling with contemplation. The other two men looked back her way, Carlos with clear confusion at what was happening. HUNK's stillness said enough. "They can use everything they've gathered to deflect and keep stalling any prosecution raised against them. To keep the lid on things. They can buy themselves enough time to find a way to get away with... with this. With everything. And it can all just keep going on, as it has been. Can't it?"

"Yes. The end of one nightmare. The prelude to another."

"I hope to God someone or something kills him before he retrieves it."

"Likewise."

"What about the other Tyrants you mentioned? This... Thanatos? T-00? What's the situation with them?

"Not our concern. They are irrelevant. Though the self destruction of the NEST still has me curious."

"Thank God. Had enough Tyrants to last a lifetime. I don't know about you guys, but I have a headache from all this.", Carlos spoke up again with a grimace, visibly rubbing his temple. Looking between them and the ruined machine, gesturing back to the fireplace entrance. "Can we just get the hell out of here? Please? I'm sick of surprises. And knowing more than I really should. Let's just get to the chopper already."

"And the five other Tyrants that were dropped off at the Dead Factory?", Jill went on without missing a beat, not breaking eye contact with the agent. From the side, Carlos looked back over to them again, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "The military there? What about them?"

"They might be our concern."

Carlos groaned with immediate dismay at the unwelcome news. He began to mutter under his breath and pace back and forth on the spot. Muttering how they never caught a break, and that things somehow always got worse. Jill kept her eyes on HUNK a few moments longer, and finally nodded in understanding. Bad news she could handle. Carlos could handle it too, he just still cared enough to be upset over it. She felt cold inside at the prospect. The potential of five Tyrants waiting for them there... to say nothing of their... Nemesis, was not a welcome prospect. But it could have been eight Tyrants, if the Thanatos and T-00 had been involved. And there was also the chance, however unlikely, that at least the military had killed one of them... or at least wounded a few. Small comfort as those were. But there was nothing further any of them could do here. They had a bridge to cross, together. As they had so many others already. She simply nodded in understanding, slight smile touching her bruised features as she looked into the agent's mask.

"We know now, at least. We'll be ready. It's better than nothing. Isn't it?"

HUNK looked back at her for a moment, before nodding in silent agreement. It was good enough for her. Turning on the spot, she took the lead once more, walking away from the broken machine and cluttered table and over towards the fireplace entrance. Eyes flickering the Corporal's way and speaking up again shortly as she did so.

"Now we can leave, Carlos."

"Amen, Supercop. About damn time."

The two men moved up and took positions on either side of her at once, and Jill drew the Samurai Edge and Matilda from their holsters, gripping them tightly. Ducking low, she started to move forward, through the entrance. Regardless of the bad news, everything was clear now. No more tasks that would lead them off the path would pop up. HUNK's dilemma seemed to have been resolved, and he was satisfied. They were finally headed to the Dead Factory. Anything that tried to get between them on the route to their last escape, they would deal with. They would go forward. Only forward. Never backwards again. To victory or defeat. Life or death. But they would go forward, and not be sidetracked again.

Then, before Jill could climb out of the fireplace and into the cabin, she was stopped where she was. She felt the cold metal of the pistol's silencer press up against her temple. A bemused, icy, familiar accent washing over her from above, chilling her.

"I'm quite impressed you've managed to stay alive... up until now."

Of course.