AS COLD BLOOD RUNS
Chapter Twelve: Checkmate
Note: Please don't be confused, unlike the other parts, this will shift from First-to-Third person often, because I don't necessarily know what goes through Wesker's mind. This is also going to be the largest...and last chapter. Enjoy.
Before Apocalypse: 3 hours until banquet: New York, NY, HQ of Umbrella-NEO
"...and the security preparations?" Wesker asked the young security chief in his office in the magnificent new office building.
"We have a full squadron of RAID officers, sir, along with several SMS patrols, sir. We are prepared for whatever the terrorists would plan," Captain Marquez Garcia replied.
"Very good, Captain Garcia," Wesker replied. He swiveled his chair around, and removed his sunglasses.
"Captain, you are dismissed," Wesker said, wiping his sunglasses on the gray tie that complemented his gray and white three-piece Perry Ellis. He caught a glimpse of his reflection, the glimpse of his yellow catlike eyes, and felt a wave of an emotion he had refused for so long...pain, followed by angst, grief, anger, and even a little humor.
'...and now, I control the very bastards that did this to me...' he thought. ' and I will make every last one of them pay. Along with that little demon in my closet, Chris Redfield. And I must finish the job with the Kennedys...oh hell, I'll kill them all...wait...maybe not me...' He chuckled, and put his sunglasses on. He'd need those contact lenses from R&D tonight, he couldn't last in there without explaining his sunglasses. Tonight would be one of celebration. And tonight, he would finally get rid of those little pins stuck in his ass...and maybe he would convey a message. That he was in control. He picked up the telephone receiver on his desk, and punched a key.
"Lab Department," came the answer.
"Please let me speak to Dr. Raymore," Wesker said.
"One moment," the woman said. A few seconds passed, and a husky voice came through the receiver.
"Louis Raymore," it said.
"Dr. Raymore, this is Albert," Wesker said. "Did you receive my memo?"
"Yes, sir, I just got it," Raymore said. "You're serious about releasing the Ge-3?"
"I am very serious," Wesker replied. "Is programming completed?"
"Yes, sir, I finished it this morning," Raymore answered.
"Good, I want it ready for this evening. I have a feeling some old friends are going to show up."
"Such as, sir?" Raymore asked.
"Just...a few pests from another day, doctor," Wesker answered. "Something that the Ge-3 should take care of."
"Yes, sir, it will be placed in stasis, awaiting the 'awake' command from you," Raymore replied.
"Good, doctor," Wesker said. "Make sure that it is ready for me. Because I just know that we'll have some uninvited guests tonight."
Leon
Black Ops
"Does anyone have a bad feeling about this?" Seth asked as the camouflage cargo van I was driving pulled into the driveway of the home of Martin Rennigher. "I mean, all this covert shit, the Bio-Port Chopper, the uniforms, all this planning...it just gives me the creeps."
"Don't worry, kiddo," Jason replied. "This is child's play."
"You're serious?" Chris asked, the slightest notion of fear in his voice.
"You betcha." he shot back. "We had more hell going after Saddam."
"The hell you talkin' about?" Chris said. "I was in the Gulf, and I didn't hear a thing about any of our boys going after Hussein!"
"Show's what you dumbass little pilots knew," Jason said. "We even got in his bedroom, close enough to blow his brains out before orders came from directly from Secretary Cheney in Washington to pull out."
"Jesus Christ," Chris muttered as he shook his head. "But the kid's right...these damn uniforms do give me the creeps," he said, tugging at the blue fabric that made up his uniform coat.
"Well, this is the only way that the boys in Intelligence could get us in," I replied, pressing the clutch and putting the old clunker in neutral. I kept the diesel engine running, and saw Martin dash out of the house, the dark blue officers uniform making him look regal and commanding in his elder age. He came up towards the van, and Chris slid open the door.
"Hey, lookin' sharp, Uncle Marty," he said, shaking Martin's hand as he took a seat on the bench next to Chris and Barry.
"Thanks, pal, you ain't looking so bad yourself," he said, adjusting the uniform cap slightly on his head.
"OK, we all set?" I said as Martin buckled his seatbelt.
"Not so fast," Jessica said, leaning forward from the furthest seat. "Can you repeat our orders real quick, I don't get it."
"Sure," I said, kicking the clunker into reverse, and pulling out the drive. "Once we're in the transport to New York City."
"You mean we aren't going in this?" Claire asked.
"Why hell no," Barry exclaimed. "Damn, I ain't the smartest rock in the bunch, but I even know that things would look suspicious if a load of NEO officers showed up in a US Army cargo van." Claire and I snickered at each other...Barry was right...he really wasn't a smart rock.
"Barry," Nick said, grasping his shoulder from behind him. "Although that is the worst mannerism I've ever heard, you are right."
"Enough of it," I said, kicking the van into first gear and heading off down the road.
"You know," Martin began, thoughtfully. "I'd never thought I'd see the day that I could finally fight back at Bio-Port."
"Whaddya mean, Marty?" Greg asked, back near Jessica.
"Well, as I told Claire, Chris, and the others," Martin said, shaking his head. "They betrayed me, and ruined my life. Now it's my turn for paybacks..."
Legacy of Pain:
I began my career as a sergeant in the Army...a damn good one at that. I soon rose to the rank of Commander, and I was told that I had a bright future ahead of me. I was sent to Korea, 'Nam, Panama, all of that. Based right out of Fort Renard, too. But in late 1981, I was approached by Bio-Port's VP of Internal Affairs, who would soon rise to become president himself. Frank...I believe. Yes, Frank Gisela.
"You know, our New York Branch is looking for a new chief of security," he told me. He seemed slimy...evil. But I really didn't care.
"We'd provide anything...and everything you'd ever need." It was a very intriguing offer, I had to admit. The pay was damn good...7 digits a year. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Having 20-some years in the Army helped too. Basically, I was rich. I was at Bio-Port's NYC branch for 3 years, and then, I went and bought the gun shop in Crown Heights, and I bought my old 1987...well, it was a new 1987 Chevrolet Scottsdale. Soon, I was just a big, all-over celebrity like guy. But in 1989, Gisela became president, and offered me an even better job...international head of Bio-Port Security. I was rich, I tell you what. Marcy my wife, worked as a clerk at a local bank. I had the store, my life. So I took the job...but I didn't leave Crown Heights. But in 1991, Marcy and I were flown to Lansing. We bought a little apartment, and stayed there for a while. It was there that I learned of Bio-Port's true intentions. I was invited to a conference, that I really had no business being there. It was a science conference about a new biological weapon: the N-E-T Virus, an offshoot of a newly developed weapon made by Umbrella...the so-called T-Virus.
"Whoa!" Jill shouted. "You mean to tell me that T-Virus research was going on in the early nineties?"
"Yeparoo," Martin said. "Bet you didn't know that the U.S. considered launching a viral offensive on Baghdad?"
"WHAT?" Chris shouted.
"They pulled back though, fearing what Saddam would do on television over there. Anyways..."
"Dammit, and I'm just now finding out about what was really going on over there!" Chris shouted. Martin looked at him sideways, and continued with his story.
I, along with the ten other people in the conference, were given a set of documents...the setup of the virus, the developmental stages, and the uses in combat. I soon saw what it did, and became disgusted. I accosted Gisela about it, and announced my resignation, and even threatened to take the documents to the press if he didn't destroy the N-E-T Virus. He laughed in my face, and told me that if I left with those documents, that I would forever regret it. I left, and headed back for New York. Two weeks later, Marcy was killed in a car crash. Brand new Cavalier. Cause was severed brake lines, the parking brake cable was cut, and the throttle stuck. There was no doubt who did it. So I sold everything...the house, the classic cars, everything...except my old Chevy and the store. I bought a house in town, and worked alone in the store. Never heard a word from those bastards until December. Some fella named Wesker, said he was VP of Security Ops, came in and basically told me that if I didn't hand over the documents, he'd make Chris and Claire regret it like Gisela made Marcy suffer. I held a .357 magnum at him, and told him that if he ever gave me or the only family I had left any shit, I would personally hunt him down and blow his brains out.
"Oh my God..." Claire breathed. "That's how Aunt Marcy died?"
"Yes," Martin told her, on the verge of crying. Chris shook his head, and anger showed up on his face.
"He's already caused enough shit for me in a lifetime," Chris said. "It's his fault that we're all involved."
"Yeah, I know all of that," Martin said. "Spencer Estate, right?"
"How'd you know?" Barry asked, the slightest notion of confusion on his face.
"Trust me," he told us with a wink. "You spend your whole life dealing in Intelligence and Security, you can easily figure some things out."
"You've got a point there," I laughed as we pulled on base. I intertwined my way through on-base traffic towards the vehicle hangar, where Mick would be waiting to give the guys final orders, with a Bio-Port personnel carrier(a much newer, bigger cargo van, hopefully an automatic). I finally pulled into the motor pool, and as I parked, Mick Stevens, in his usual three-piece, walked over to the van. I rolled down the window, and he threw me a set of keys.
"You're ride is waiting, Commander," he said, smirking. "Your guys ready?"
"We're going to go over the directive again," I replied. "But other than that, we're ready to go."
"Good." He began to walk off, and then turned back towards me. "This is your game now, Leon. My guys at the office can't bail you out this time. The lives of your crew is in your hands.
Oh yeah. No fuckin' pressure.
Rebirth
"All right, guys," I said, gathering the team around the map of the new Umbrella-NEO banquet facility. "Sniper team one: that's Jason, Barry, and Greg; will be located in the left spotlight balcony, the first of three. Jason will be in the room itself, Barry and Greg will wait inside the door, on the staircase. Team two: that would be me, Claire, and Nicolas; will do the same, in the center of the three. Three, I'm sure you get the point, but the team will be Chris, Becky, and Sarah. Now, I want you all to notice two exits...the main door into the hall, and a fire escape behind the platform. Jessica and Ark will be at the front. I believe that Seth can hold it out with Carlos. at the fire escape. Now, there will be one of us at each end of the platform...Jill on one side, Martin on the other. Any questions?"
"What about real security?" Martin asked.
"Hehehe," I chuckled. "Thanks to our boys in Intelligence, we're the listed security personnel on hand, of course with our fake ID's."
"That's thinkin'," he said, with a high whistle.
"OK, guys, this is the real deal," I said. "Tonight, we strike."
"Wait a minute," Jessica interrupted. "In a sense, who are we?" It seems that she was inferring a nickname for the squadron.
"Well," Chris began. "Wesker has always feared what would happen if the S.T.A.R.S. would have done if they found him out, I say that we revive that fear."
"Agreed," Jill said.
"Same here," answered Barry.
"Well," I said. "I have no objections."
"But we aren't the S.T.A.R.S.!" Ark shouted. "We're the muthafuckin' Army!"
"So we add a little something," Claire said. "What about NEO? Shows that the S.T.A.R.S. won't die."
"No, not original," Jason muttered.
"Endgame," I said.
"Huh?" was the general answer.
"This all ends tonight, how about S.T.A.R.S: Endgame?" I replied.
"Like the sound of it," Sarah said.
"Me too," Nick and Greg replied together. Everyone else replied in about the same manner.
"Then it's official," I answered. "We're S.T.A.R.S: Endgame."
And it was official. We filed into the van, feeling a new sense of unity...a sense of family. The S.T.A.R.S. were reborn in the glory it was intended...not what it had become.
UMBRELLA-NEO HQ: 2 hours before banquet
"What did you say?" Wesker fumed over the phone at Captain Garcia.
"New report from Security," he replied. "The roster has been changed for this evening."
"Hmmmm...." Wesker whispered. "Could this be their work?"
"Who's work, sir?" Garcia replied.
"Never you mind," Wesker replied. "Keep the roster...but I want a full squad split between the front and back exits, ready to enter on my call. I want them plainclothes, and I want them to be the finest RAID officers we have."
"Yessir," Garcia replied. "I'll get on the horn to Commander Peters."
"Not that imbecile," Wesker shouted. "He blew too many missions. I want you to have Corporal Allen to call me directly."
"Yessir," Garcia answered. "Immediately." Wesker hung up the phone, and leaned back into the leather chair at his desk.
'So,' he thought. 'Kennedy and Redfield think that they have outsmarted me. Fat chance.' He began laughing, like he had just heard the funniest joke he ever heard.
'Surprise, surprise,' he thought. 'Joke's on you, fellas. Tonight you will be greeted with the biggest surprise of your lives...'
"Corporal First Class Adrian Allen, who is speaking?" came the mellow voice through the phone.
"Corporal, this is President Wesker," Wesker spoke. "I've got a job for you and your team tonight.
"I'm listening," Allen replied. "What do you need?"
"A very simple plainclothes undercover op," Wesker ordered. "It seems that our friends from the United States Government are going to be butting in tonight."
"Yessir," Allen replied. "Inside the hall?"
"No," Wesker said. "Outside in the foyer, roaming and patrolling, but staying incognito."
"Gotcha, sir," Allen told him. "I'll get our best men on it right away."
"See that you do."
A hundred miles from nowhere:
1.5 hours until banquet.
"Are we there yet?" Chris asked from behind me.
"No," Claire replied.
"Are we there yet?" Chris asked, trying to hold in the laughter.
"No," Claire's voice went from nervous to stern.
"Are we there..." Chris began
"NO!" Claire shouted, and the people in the van silenced themselves. Chris had gone from looking like a raving lunatic to a dog that had just received a beating from its owner.
"Jeez..." Chris whispered.
"To answer your question," Seth said, looking up from the blueprint of the facility. "I guess we're about...what, 10-15 minutes away?"
"Right," I said, keeping a watch ahead on the road. "We'll be at the compound and in position in less than half an hour. Or at least, we should be so we don't stir up any suspicion."
"Hey, suspicion is always fun," Chris remarked.
"One more word out of you and I'll shove my size 8 so far up your ass it'll tickle your tonsils!" Claire fumed, which everyone responded to with laughter, except for Chris, who had realized that he'd been pushing buttons that didn't need to be pushed.
"OK, OK, I'm sorry," he groaned. He leaned towards Barry, and whispered something that I overheard.
"She may look like Dad, but she's definitely Mom's daughter," he laughed, sending both of them into a spew of laughter. Claire looked back, and gave them a look that could send chills down Charles Manson's spine. They shut up, and gulped, fearing the wrath of Claire Redfield.
"Remind me never to piss you off," I said as she sat back in her seat.
"Who says you could?" she asked, a little smirk on her face. I smiled, shook my head, and concentrated on the road.
"Is it the right time to say that I have a really bad feeling about this?" Seth said, buttoning up his uniform jacket.
"Trust me," Barry said, leaning over the seat where Becky, Seth, and Carlos were sitting. "I've had a bad feeling since August."
"Ain't we all," Chris said, leaning back and tipping his cap over his eyes. "Ain't we fuckin' all."
And so it begins...and ends.
30 minutes until banquet.
"HEY!" We stepped out of the van, and saw a higher-up from security in a red uniform.
"Are you the team sent from Buffalo?" The others had confused looks on their faces, but I stepped forward and saluted.
"Sir, yessir. Cmdr. Joseph MacKenzie, 34th SMS unit, Buffalo, New York," I answered.
"Well, Commander," he said, signaling towards the massive building. "They're needing you inside now. Security personnel must be inside before the guests can enter."
"Yes sir," I said. "We're on our way." I signaled the team forward. We stayed in a simple formation, trying to look like disciplined security soldiers. Somehow, with these guys, discipline wasn't in the book.
"Dammit, won't you wait?!" Officer Redjacket was shouting again. I turned around, and he threw me a radio.
"Contact me on channel 19. The name's Cullet."
"Yessir," I said, continuing into the office. There were several people waiting to enter the hall as we entered, and they began applauding us like we were a group of returning war heroes. We continued on, unfazed, and I stopped them in front of the double-doors leading into the banquet hall.
"OK, there's the office entrance," I whispered. "Just inside will be the banquet hall. Remember your assignments, and Jason and Chris, I will fire first. If I miss, Chris will fire, followed by Jason. If we all miss, then the guard teams must get all civilians out alive, and we will attack Wesker directly."
"Gotcha," Chris answered. Jason nodded, and I swung open the doors into the grand banquet hall. Dammit, it was the most lavish thing I'd ever seen. A long banquet table stood at the front of the room, with seven chairs. Two were for Umbrella higher-ups, Three were for Bio-Port VP's . Then in the center, were the chairs for Charles G. Spencer, President and CEO of Umbrella, next to Wesker's. There were numerous tables scattered around, with white and red tablecloths. The serving crew was hustling and bustling, getting salad dishes on the tables and putting wine glasses next to them. They didn't seem to notice us as we filed into position, guard teams heading for the exits, Jill and Martin stepping up to their seats on the podium where the main table was, and the snipers and their guard teams heading to their respective balconies. Claire, Nicolas, and myself entered the staircase heading towards the spotlight balcony. About halfway up, I stopped them.
"OK, guys. You stay here. Anything goes wrong, get on the radio to me ASAP," I said.
"You gonna be okay?" Claire asked.
"Of course," I said, embracing her like it would be the last time. I kissed her forehead, and let go of her. Nicolas stepped up, and saluted.
"The ball's in your court, now, Commander," he said shaking my hand.
"Yep. Good luck," I said, thrusting the duffel bag over my shoulder, and I began walking up the stairs.
"Hey!" Claire shouted. I turned around, and she looked me dead in the eye.
"I love you, Leon," she said, the worry in her voice. I threw her a sideways grin, and winked.
"'Course ya do," I laughed. "Take care, guys." I continued up the staircase, finally entering the balcony. I crouched over in front of the square hole, a two foot by two foot, where the automated spotlight would shine. I took out the radio that would keep me in contact with my people, and put it on the channel where they would hear me.
"OK, guys. This is ENDGAME-Alpha 1, in position, along with Alpha Guard One. We ready?"
Chris' voice crackled. "ENDGAME Alpha-2, Alpha Guard 2 ready."
Jason's voice resonated. "Alpha-3, Guard 3 good to go."
Ark's voice followed. "ENDGAME Bravo 1 and 2, set."
Seth. "Bravo 3 and 4, ready." I heard Carlos in the background. "Yeah, amigo!"
Jill. "ENDGAME Echo-1 and Echo 2 in position, ready for action."
"OK," I answered. "Prepare your weapons, Bravo and Echo, and keep them concealed to the point that the populace won't be frightened, but that you will have them at ready." I heard the sounds of several Ingram M-11 automatic weapons being drawn, and rounds being chambered.
"Alpha, proceed with preparation." I couldn't hear the sound of the Guard teams readying theirs, but I heard Chris and Jason, along with myself, withdrawing high-powered PSG-11XA .58 ca. sniper rifles, and chambering rounds of their own.
"Operation: ENDGAME commences at 18:45 hours," I said over the radio, and I clicked it off. I pulled the other one, the Bio-Port issue out, and contacted Cullet.
"Commander Cullet," I said. "Security is in place. Begin issuing the guests in."
"Good work, Lieutenant. That was quick." I glanced down, and saw the guests enter, and fill the numerous tables. They were greeted by the kitchen crew, and were served wine and Caesar salads. Then, the lights dimmed, and the spotlights turned on. Then, the guests of 'honor' entered. The VP's entered, followed by Spencer. Once they were seated. All but the center spotlight turned off, and Albert Wesker, in a gray and white three-piece entered. But what was spooky was his eyes...they were normal. Not the yellowish-cat eyes, but dark blue eyes. I saw a little light flash to my left, and to my right. I flashed my own light. The snipers were ready. Wesker stood at a podium below the main platform, and checked a mike as the guests ate dinner. The lights came on, and the spotlights went out.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I would personally like to thank you for coming," he said, putting on his best show of respect and humbleness. " I would also like to welcome you to a new age...a new age where sick children in the poorest areas of the world will not suffer of AIDS and cancers; a new age where the American people will not be forced to retreat to Canada for prescriptions. A new age in history! At a ceremony this morning, President Spencer and I signed for the merger of our two companies. No longer am I President of Bio-Port...now I'm President of the greatest pharmaceutical company ever seen...Umbrella-NEO! " The spotlights turned on, highlighting a banner with the Umbrella-NEO logo...the Red and White Umbrella logo swirled like the Bio-Port vortex. Above it, it said UMBRELLA-NEO. Underneath, was the funniest thing I'd ever seen.
'We're gonna save the World.' It almost sent me laughing wickedly. But instead I raised my rifle, and flashed the light again, answered by the others. I looked through the scope, and zoomed in on his head...
right between his eyes...
I released the safety...
I tensed the trigger...
BLLLAAAM!
The shot echoed, and I heard the screams of people as they ducked under tables, but right then and there, I really didn't care. I had hit Wesker...and he fell. I saw no blood, but I jumped up and started whooping. But then, he stood up. The bullet spit out of his forehead, and the muscles and skin repaired themselves.
BLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAM! Chris' rifle fired, and Wesker jumped at least fifteen feet in the air to avoid the bullet.
BLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAM! Jason fired, and Wesker caught the bullet.
"DAMMIT!" I shouted, and Claire's head poked through.
"What do we do?" she asked.
"Wait 'till the others get the guests out," I said. "Then we'll head-on attack him." I looked down, and saw that the others were issuing the guests out. Wesker looked like he expected it. He threw off his jacket and tie, unbuttoned about three buttons on his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. The others threw off their coats and hats, drew their pistols, and ran to meet him. I grabbed my M-11 and jumped out of the balcony. I rolled across the floor, and jumped up. Chris, Jason, and their teams rushed out, followed by Claire and Nick. I stepped up to Wesker, and stared him down. He didn't scare me.
"It's time to pay, Albert," I said. "I will have revenge."
"Oh, really," he laughed.
"Yes!" Seth shouted, stepping up next to me, followed by Barry, Chris, and Jill. Martin stepped up next to me, and Wesker looked surprised.
"You..." he breathed. He picked Martin up, and began choking him. His face turned blue.
"NO!" Claire cried, running at Wesker with her pistol drawn. Wesker kicked her out of the way, and snapped Martin's neck. He threw him across the room with ease. Claire burst into tears, and ran over to him.
"Where's Allen...?" he said, looking around. Ark and Jessica came from out the front.
"Taken care of!" Ark shouted.
"How nice..." Wesker said. He pulled a remote out of his pocket.
"Seth," he said. "What do you truly know about your past?"
"What do you care!?" Seth spat at him.
"Because I know the truth."
The truth is out there
"What do you mean?" Seth asked.
"You were adopted by your mother's husband, right?"
"Yeah...what are you getting at?"
"Well, what was his last name?"
"Hartford."
"Well, would you believe that he really is a blood relative of yours?" Wesker asked, an eyebrow raised. Seth was troubled, and confused.
"What?" he asked.
"Your real father was his younger half-brother. He was a bright one...a world-renowned scientists. Came up with many useful products," Wesker said.
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, yes. I believe his name was....Birkin?"
"WHAT?!" Seth asked, on the verge of tears.
"Yep. William Birkin. Had an affair with your mother before he married Annette. He refused to believe that you were his son. Do you know why?"
"I'll rip your liver out..." Seth growled, getting into an attack stance.
"You were born with Down's Syndrome. William refused to believe that any offspring of his would be born genetically defunct. He disowned you. Finally, six months after you were born, your mother married a security guard, Daniel Steven Hartford. He adopted you, and raised you as his own."
"Grrrrrrrrrrrr..." Seth growled, preparing to leap. "LIES!"
"Oh now. I'm not done yet. On your first birthday, William developed a special serum to destroy the extra copy of Chromosome 21. It was developed from the base virus, called the Mother Virus. He called it Genesis Alpha. You were injected, and within a week, you were cured. You became intelligent...almost more so than William. You also grew like crazy, but it wasn't out of control. I believe you were...6'3, 220lb? Captain of the football team."
"Seth, don't listen to him," Becky said, holding his arm.
"She doesn't know...but let me continue. On your seventeenth birthday...a year ago, William realized what he had injected you with. Genesis Alpha would lead to the G-enesis serum. So he killed your father, and took you to Raccoon City, at the Spencer Estate. He tested...and tested...and tested. Finally he infused G-enesis into you. But with the S.T.A.R.S. closing in, he had you moved to Lebannon. But he died before you could ever finish."
"No...." Seth said.
"How many were injected with G-enesis?" Wesker asked.
"Only me..." he replied.
"Wrong. There are three. You, of course, are known as Ge-1."
"What are you saying?" Seth asked.
"Well, would you believe me if I said that I am Ge-2?"
Seth was silent.
"And for number three..." Wesker pressed a button on the remote, and the giant banner rose. A tank was there. It shook...and burst. In it's place stood the most horrifying thing I'd ever seen. It was Seth's height and weight...but it's skin was a translucent blue. Large black tubes rose out of it's shoulders, and attached to it's back. Smaller ones appeared on it's arms. It had no shirt, instead it was in baggy black pants and black combat boots. It had a fingerless black glove on it's right hand, but it's left one was worse. Where its fingers should be, were 3 foot long claws of steel. It was bald, and its eyes were terrible...pure black. It's mouth was covered by a metal plate, attached to a black band that encompassed the lower portion of his head.
"Meet your brother," Wesker said. "G-enesis-3." The G-enesis rushed at us, and we jumped out of the way.
"You guys take care of Wesker," Seth said. "I'll take G-enesis." Becky began to cry.
"No," she bawled. Seth put his hands on her shoulders.
"Listen," he began. "I'm the only one who has a chance against this thing." He removed his shirt, and handed Becky something. A picture.
"Now, take care of Wesker!" he shouted, and went face to face with G-enesis.
Leon:
"Now I finish the job," Wesker said, rising to meet me.
"No," I replied. "The ball's in my court." I swung at Wesker, somehow my raw anger more powerful than his viral injection. He kneeled down, and looked at me. I kicked him in the face, and sent him reeling back. Chris ran up with his gun, but I held him back.
"No," I said. "He's mine." Chris nodded, for once understanding me. Wesker stood up, and looked at me. Blood trickled out of his mouth.
"Obviously I underestimated you," he said, leaping at me. He speared me to the ground, and punched me in the mouth. I rose my knee, and jabbed him right in the balls. I slid out from under him, and prepared myself for his next attack.
Seth:
I was screwed. Plain and simple. The creature charged at me, and thrust its claws at me. I leapt out of the way, but one scraped my side. I did a jump kick, and flattened it to the ground. It stood up, its soulless black eyes piercing me. It swung its fist, and caught my mouth. I lost my footing, and fell.
"OK, you sonofabitch," I said. I grabbed its hand, and swung him right into a rack of folding chairs. It roared in pain, and stood up, ready for more. It charged me again, and felt its claws surge into my side. I fell and clutched my side. Becky screamed from somewhere far off, I didn't know where. I stood up, dizzied. I couldn't heal myself...I didn't have the energy. Just have to ride it out, I thought. I kicked the beast in the jaw, and G-enesis 3 fell to the ground. I ran over to a metal frame, and pulled off the biggest bar I could find. G-enesis was beginning to feel tired, too. Time to take advantage. I was going to kill it...quick.
"Come and get it..." I beckoned. It ran over, charging with those claws. I jumped over its head, onto its back, and caught the pipe between the two large tubes on it's back.
"Nightie-night, " I said, pulling the pipe towards me, dislodging the tubes. It fell and roared with pain as its blood spilled out. I stood, towering over its crying form. Soon, the cries softened, and it died. I stood for a couple more seconds...
Hello darkness, my old friend.
I collapsed.
Leon:
"All right," I said, rushing at Wesker with full speed. "You're mine." I tackled him, and started beating his face. I didn't notice, but tears fell as I pounded. His eyes look surprised, and his head fell into unconsciousness. I continued beating him, until Chris pulled me off.
"He's out cold, Leon," he told me.
"How the hell?" I asked. I had knocked the shit out of him. But I would finish the job. I looked over towards Seth, and saw him standing over the creature. It was dead, and Seth himself collapsed.
"Chris, Barry, Ark. Get him back to the van." They nodded, and picked him up. Becky trailed, in tears.
"Someone get me my bag," I said, and Carlos showed up with it. I was prepared. I took out a large block of Comp. B explosive, and a detonator.
"Get everyone out." They began to run, and I set the bomb. I looked over, and saw Claire mourning over her uncle. She wasn't going to leave.
"CLAIRE!" I shouted. "Get out! This place is gonna blow!"
She looked up at me, with tearful eyes. She picked up her uncle's body, and ran. I turned back to Wesker as I turned on the timer.
"Sleep tight, you bastard." I kicked him a couple of times. I then broke in a dead run towards the exit. I rushed through the office, seeing the guests in fear.
"GET OUT, NOW!" I shouted. They were more than happy to oblige. I made sure that everyone was out. But for some reason, Spencer stayed.
"What are you doing?" I shouted.
"I'm going to pay for the evil I caused." He turned, and entered the banquet hall. I shrugged, and ran out. No reason to risk myself for a murderer. I left the building, and ran towards the van. Chris was behind the wheel, and pulled up to meet me.
"Need a ride?" he joked. I hopped in the back, and he took off. We sped off down past the gates, but Chris stopped right outside. He was silent as the building erupted in flames. It burned. Gloriously, it burned.
"It's over..." he said. We sped off down the highway.
Note: Sorry for the wait, let's just say computer trouble. Please watch for the epilogue in a day or two, to truly see if it will end...