Resident Evil: Paris

Chapter 1

He reached for the sound mufflers, stealing them away from his head in exact unison as he dropped his Glock 17 into the holster attached to his belt, patiently awaiting fulfillment. Chris Redfield gave a sigh, turning to the target and realizing that he had performed as well as usual, even though he truly believed the stress would affect his aim. Why worry? It never has bothered him before. First there was the Tyrant, and then Alexia. He could almost laugh at the simplicity of the Tyrant's design compared to the latter mostrosity. It almost seemed as if to be a cakewalk.

"I thought I'd find you here," A husky, American voice proclaimed without a trace of any accent. Barry smirked, something he hadn't done since, well, before the Spencer Mansion incident. It was somewhat of a nice and welcome change.

"I could say the same thing for you, Barry," Chris replied, without so much as trying to break the grimace on his face. He unstrapped his gloves, setting them neatly in hs back pocket, before taking out a pack of cigarettes, stealing one away from its comrades. The twenty-five year old made notion toward the exit of the firing grounds and began following his own directions. Barry followed suit. "I heard about Raccoon City. Is everyone okay?"

Burton gave a hearty, if not morbid, chuckle, revealing a side to Chris that the young S.T.A.R.S. officer had never quite seen. "If by 'everyone,' you mean the citizens of Raccoon City, no, Chris, they aren't okay!"

"Back off, Barry! I was asking about your family!" retorted Chris with the defensive attitude he was known for. He walked to the car he had rented the day before for Claire's and his own use during their stay in Europe.

"Chris... I'm sorry. It's just... You weren't there. You didn't see." Barry shook his head in shame . "My wife and kids are living in a hotel in Vancouver. It's the best I could do, and hopefully they understand..." Chris made a signal for Barry to get in the car, and the old officer complied thankfully. "Rebecca contacted me a few weeks ago and Jill and Carlos are fine, if not for a few bruises and scratches here and there."

"Carlos?"

"He's a man that helped Jill survive the Raccoon City incident. He supposedly worked for Umbreall, so I'm not exactly trusting him."

Chris gave a grunt of agreement, the smoke from his now lit cigarette now filling the car with its distasteful smell. After a moment of silence, he spoke, "Claire and Leon are at the hospital, she's getting checked over for any wounds that need special attentio--"

"You never told me what happened in Antarctica, Chris." Barry interrupted with a cold demeanor, his curiosity getting the best of him once again.

"Long story, pal. Let's just leave at this: Umbrella is under new management. Plus, a friend of Claire's was killed. She's having a hard time with it, so try not to bring it up in any conversations."

* * *

"Alright people. we're taking this one by the books!" Barry Burton exclaimed to the group gathered in the tight hotel room. "It's a simple case of espionage. S.T.A.R.S., we've been preparing for this ever since joining the force. That means no civilians are coming." He eyed Claire, instantly in a bad mood.

"Tell me again why he's taking charge of this outfit," Rebecca whispered to Chris as Barry continued. "He betrayed us, did you forget already?"

"Senior membership, simply put. He won't do it again. Trust me." Chris replied.

"If you insist."

* * *

Chris, Barry, Jill, Rebecca, Carlos, and Leon all arrived at aproximately the same time of night, but from different directions, just as planned. They each surveyed the area. Business in the Umbrella headquarters appeared to be slow. There was no one arriving nor exiting the building.

Barry made a signal across the gigantic parking lot to Carlos, who then made a swift walk to the building. He swung one of the many doors wide open and walked in, trying to appear as if he had great pride for the company and its accomplishments. The mission was simple: Get in, get evidence of Umbrella's crimes against humanity, get out. There was one minor snag, though. Since the Raccoon section of S.T.A.R.S. had no jurisdiction whatsoever in Paris, what they were doing was of course illegal.

Carlos shook it off and walked to the clerk desk. The building was supposedly opened 24 hours a day, but there wasn't a clerk in sight. "This is odd," he spoke to himself before signaling the others to enter also.

Within seconds , the group had swarmed into the lobby to join Carlos. They, too, were puzzled by Umbrella's personel, or lack thereof. Umbrella wouldn't have closed due to Alexia's death, would it? No, of course not!

"Oh no... Oh no...." Rebecca whispered to herself as she backed away from the desk. "Guys, look behind it!" The rest did as told, and soon discovered a mutilated body lying on the floor, its right arm was nowhere to be seen, and neither was any hope of recognizing the woman it once was, or so they thought. Its hand shot up and grabbed onto the desk with the only arm she had left, and picked herself up enough to peer over the desk at the others, who were instinctly backing away. Hair fluttered and fell to the ground. The woman opened her moth to say something, but coughed instead, spitting out her grey and shriveled tongue. The only sound it made was was a soft groan.

Without notice, the woman lunged at Carlos, taking hold of him and sinking her rock hard teeth into his chest. He drew back and fell, tripping over himself. His head was the first to crash into the marble floor...

The rest, suddenly realizing what they were once again dealing with, drew their guns...