EYES OF THE BEHOLDER
CHAPTER FIVE: EXODUS
We Own the Night:
"Like old times, huh?" Chris whispered as I crouched beneath the front window, pulling the hammer on the .45 Python.
"Seems it's always something," I growled back. "I guess they just don't know how to give up."
"I hear ya," he replied from his position behind the large leather couch. "Maybe this time they'll get the picture."
"Guys!" Jill rasped. "Keep quiet! We're trying not to let the enemy know we're here." Chris turned to say something, but I held a hand up.
"Shhh! I hear something…"
Trust me, laying on your stomach on an ice-covered roof isn't the greatest thrill in the world. In fact, it's kinda a pain in the ass…well…a pain in another area, unnamed but yet implied. Get the drift? Good. Even worse, I was up there trying to watch for something that was nowhere to be found. I decided to sit up for a minute, shouldered my MP5 assault rifle, and sighed. The minutes were passing on like hours. Hmmm…I guess that's how it is when you're waiting for a death squad to come and blow you to bits. But still, it was them or us…and I've been through way too much to just give up now. Yet there was no sight of any strange activity on the streets. No sound of choppers overhead. Just the slow, peaceful snowfall and the quiet of the night. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they didn't think enough of our little group to try anything…
Until I heard the roar of a diesel engine about a mile down the road.
"Carlos, listen to me," I said as we got into the kitchen. "I'm changing the plan. You need to get out of here and back to the airport. We're going to use that Gulfstream to get the hell out of Dodge." He stood there for a moment, gun in hand and tacky Santa hat still on his head, and he finally nodded.
"But how will I get there?" he asked. "I came here by taxi." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys to the Ram.
"Here," I said, tossing them to him. "Now hurry, before the action…"
BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!!!
"Starts."
He put the keys on the table and shouldered the MP5, getting into a crouched position. I followed his form, and kept my ears open. After Ark's initial shots, there was nothing…
"WHOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAA!" Then I heard the sound of something falling off of the roof.
"Cover fire, Carlos!" I shouted as I broke through the back door. I kept my rifle at ready as I ran barefoot through the snow towards the form of my friend. I stopped and helped him up off the ground, and he began brushing snow off of his VHPD uniform, which was soaked.
"That's the last time I get dragged into sniper duty, buddy," he laughed.
Pfft! No wonder I heard no return fire. The bastards were using silenced weapons. I saw an armored head poke out from behind the fence, and it was quickly rewarded with a three round burst to the face.
"At least you got the armor piercing stuff," I told Ark. Deciding that there would be a better time for banter, we then made way for the door.
"Two of 'em around back!!" I heard a Slavic voice shout. "They got Venera!"
"Let's get while the getting's good," I said, using one of my dad's favorite catch phrases.
"Agreed," Ark replied, as we ran through the snow back into the kitchen. Carlos stood there, rifle in hand, concern on his face.
"You guys OK?" he asked.
"Just peachy," Ark returned, trying to bring a little light into the situation. We stood monitoring the back door, waiting for 'Venera's' buddies to come after us…until we heard the front door begin banging.
"GET DOWN!!" Seth shouted as he ran for the door, putting the pistol in his jeans. Jill and I happily obliged, ducking behind the leather couch. The failed bioweapon (and all-around good guy) heaved his heavy frame against the door and held firmly.
"Jesus, you're going to get yourself killed!" I shouted.
"Don't you remember Lansing?" he asked. "Bullets don't last long in me."
"Yeah, but I also remember the Ge-3," Jill shot back. Seth just retained his steely countenance and held the door firmly in place. Finally, they stopped pounding.
"See, I told you," he said. Just then, I heard two soft, but audible beeps.
"Oh, shit," I shouted. "Move! Now!!" Jill and I rushed up the stairs and met up with Bruce, where we took cover in the hallway. Seth still refused to move.
BBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM!
The door blew open and collapsed on Sherry's brother as four black-armored soldiers ran in, weapons at ready, searching the room.
"I'm going to open fire," I told Jill and Bruce. However, Jill saw a little bit of stirring beneath the shattered door, and held me back.
"Just wait," she said. "Give us the element of surprise." We watched in the shadows as the soldiers searched about the room, and finally returned their focus on the 'lifeless' body underneath the door.
"This must be the one that O'Donovan wanted," a female voice said. "That G-enesis thing. Get him to the van." Two of the thugs bent down and lifted the door from on top of Seth. They grabbed his arms, and with a rush of surprise, he sprang to life, grabbed their heads, and knocked them together, surely killing them on impact. The other two began to open fire, but Seth didn't seem to notice the bullets as they ripped through his torso, because he broke the neck of one of the assailants.
"Jesus," the woman shouted, and turned to run. Seth pulled the .45 from his waistband and fired three shots, killing her before she could get out the door. Leon, Ark, and Carlos all came running into the living room, MP5s at ready, just in time to see Seth's body eject the bullets and heal itself. He stood, chest heaving, and he collapsed to one knee.
"Seth!" Leon shouted as we heard the cargo van squeal away, more than likely with the few survivors of the attack. He stayed on one knee as Leon put a hand on his back, as the three of us came down the stairs, with the others coming up from the basement.
"I'm…OK," he gasped between labored breaths as he rose to his feet. "Haven't had…to…do that…in a while." Becky put her hands on his shoulders as his breathing slowly returned to normal.
"Come on, sit down," she said, moving him over to the couch.
"Not now…there's still more," he replied.
"Only one, and he hauled ass in the van," Ark stated. "They tried to come in through the back, and we let them have it."
"We sure didn't hear it," I replied. "Must have been too caught up with Seth's adventures here." The rest of us all tried to sit in the devastated living room, but few of us could.
"OK," I finally said after a moment of quiet. "Leon, what the hell do we do?"
I stood and looked at everyone in the room, who had turned to me for an answer. I couldn't think, I couldn't contrive…my mind was blank. I paced around the living room trying to find an answer for the question. I felt everyone's eyes on me, but finally Bruce spoke up.
"We need to get you all out of here," he said. "That Carlos guy can hop you all out to wherever he's going. I'll take care of Gray and everyone at the station, let them know what happened."
"Thanks," I replied. "I guess that's it. We pack up tonight, and leave at dawn tomorrow," I said. "Carlos, we're going to go back with you, so make whatever calls you have to, and get us situated. Ark, while I let Barry in on this, I'm going to have you call an old friend of ours."
"Who?" he asked.
"Do you still have your little black book you used in Internal Affairs?" I asked in return.
"Yeah, should."
"Get a hold of Mick Stevens. 'Cause he's going to help us get out of this one."
A Simple Ploy:
"We've lost everyone. They were waiting." The phone receiver felt heavy in my hand as I awaited the president's comment.
"I was ready for that possibility. These people are extremely intelligent, highly trained. The worst enemy we could imagine."
"Ginovef was our only survivor. He said Genesis went on a rampage, killing four of our men himself. He's the true danger, in my mind." I answered.
I hated having to contradict the president, especially in the condition he was. But the facts were the facts. Hartford was dangerous.
"He may be, but don't forget the rest of them," the president said. "Commander Travis, do not let this discourage you. Your men were good, but obviously they weren't good enough. Nova-4 will not be restructured. Instead, I'm placing you as RAID commander. I…relieved Commander Peters of his duties."
I was stunned at the accommodation. "Why…thank you sir. I will not be a disappointment."
"Of course," the president replied. "But am I assured that you will spend your every waking hour to bringing these people down?"
"All day, every day."
"Good," Albert Wesker replied. "Now, I have a surprise for them, especially the Redfield siblings. They're in air with that Olivera from the defunct UBCS. I want three of our stateside choppers from Phoenix to intercept this Gulfstream as it makes its way to Desert Paradise. Then, take them to our holding facility in the area. Our specimen has already arrived, and is awaiting them."
"Will do, Mr. President."
Three hours later…
Above Arizona…
Sunrise:
I stirred to life in the modified cargo hold of the Gulfstream, pushing myself from the dusty floor of the plane, and stretching my aching back. Everyone was still asleep: Leon and Claire on a bench in the back, Martin in Sherry's arms; Seth and Becky curled up near the door, Ark was stretched out in one of the few remaining seats, and Bruce, the SRU lieutenant that had accompanied us, was in a seat across from him. I gingerly stepped through the cramped hold and looked out one of the windows. The Arizona sun had begun to rise over the desert sands, and it was eerily reminiscent of the Iraqi mornings I remembered from the early nineties.
"Pretty sight, isn't it?" I heard from behind me. Jill had risen, and was standing at my side.
"First time I can remember seeing something like that and not being in the cockpit of an F18," I laughed.
"Try a tricked-out Gulfstream," she replied. We sat down on a bench next to the window, and continued to admire the scene. As I watched the desert sands beneath me, the events of the past night racing through my mind.
"Why in the hell did they come back?" I asked, more to myself than to Jill.
"I'm not sure," she answered. "But I think we sent a very clear message."
"Yeah, don't fuck with us," I laughed, then let out a sigh.
"Is something bothering you, Chris?" she asked, a concern evident in her voice.
"I don't know," I replied. "I don't know if it's something that should, or if I'm just paranoid…if I'm going crazy."
"OK, flyboy," she sternly mocked. "What's going on now?"
Truthfully, I didn't know what it was. Why was it so hard to tell her I really feel? I'd never had that kind of trouble before with a woman, but it seems that whenever I was around Jill, everything just seemed to collapse.
"Awfully quiet, Chris," she said.
"Well," I began. It was now or never: Judgment Day. "Something's been making me think…since we were talking in the kitchen the other night. It was just reinforced last night."
"And what is that?"
Come on Chris, just say it! Just say it!
I knew what he was going to say, and it was humorous, but sweet, at how he stumbled and bumbled. I sat, however, playing dumb, pretending that I had no clue what he was talking about.
"You know…" he said. "Since the whole S.T.A.R.S. deal…no, before that, when you first came to Raccoon City, I'd always admired you, and thought myself lucky to have a friend like you. And now, with everything that's happened, and that's going to happen, I just don't want something to happen without telling you that…uh…I…oh, man, this is tough…"
"I think I get the picture," I answered as I smiled. He looked at me strangely as I put my hand on his, and brought myself closer and kissed him.
"I've wanted to do that for the longest time," she said, as we finally released one another. "But I never knew that you felt the same way. And I could never find the words myself."
"But we're going to have to be very careful," I warned. "NEO's after us hot and heavy now. I can't lose you."
"I think we'll be just fine," she said, moving into the crook of my arm. "Leon and Claire did it through the Bio-Port battle, so did Seth and Becky. We're in for a rough road, but I think we can do it."
"I…" I began, until I heard the roar of three Apache helicopters fall in behind the Gulf.
"Oh fuck," I gasped. "NEO. They're here."
"Three bogies on radar," I heard Carlos say, like any experienced fighter pilot, but the first in a Gulfstream. "They're closing in fast."
"Can't you do anything?" Leon asked. "Evasive maneuvers?"
"Is that an order?" Carlos smirked. My brother-in-law stood in the cabin deep in thought, and looked back up at Carlos.
"Hammer down, Carlos," he ordered. "We got to make it to Desert Paradise." Carlos put the headset back on, and I slid into the copilot's seat. Leon ran from the cabin as Carlos grabbed the throttle lever, and slammed it down as far as it would go.
"Get everyone down!" I shouted through my own mic. "They'll open fire any minute." The Gulf roared through the air, followed intently by the Apaches, who let loose with .50 caliber chain guns. Carlos put the plane into a tight barrel roll, and began to gain altitude.
"They won't be able to follow us up too much higher," he told me. "Hopefully." The Apaches kept firing and followed us up, but soon, their craft couldn't raise altitude any further.
"I think we've lost them," I breathed.
"Not for long," Carlos shouted. "Air to air missile!"
"Everyone grab something and hold on!" I shouted. "We're going down!" Carlos slammed the yoke down, and the plane began drastically losing altitude. We could still see the missile on radar as Carlos leveled the plane at about nine thousand feet.
"We can't outrun it," Carlos said. "I'm going to cut speed and lower altitude. Maybe we can still survive this…" He slowly released the throttle, and…
Booooooooooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmm!
"Left engine!" I shouted as the plane rocked violently. Carlos' face remained calm as he cut power to the other engine and guided the flaming wreckage down into the desert stands.
"Hold on, amigos!!" Carlos shouted. The plane hit the sands and began sliding. Carlos and I gripped tightly to the control panel as the plane skidded…and finally stopped. We sat for a few minutes just trying to catch our breath, and Carlos finally spoke.
"Think we need to check on the others?"
"Let's go," I said. We unbuckled and walked back into the cargo hold, and saw our friends, all shaken, but otherwise OK. Leon had a small gash on his forehead, but that was about it for injury. I kicked open the door on the side of the plane, and pushed out the emergency chute. It inflated, and we all slid down: children first, followed by the adults. We all gathered in the sands, and tried to figure out where we were.
"Any ideas, Carlos?" Leon asked.
"We're only a mile or so out of Desert Paradise Airfield, I think," he said. "My radio on the plane still works, so I guess I can give it a go." He proceeded to climb back up the chute, and after a struggle, he was back in the plane. We all stood silently, until we saw three black Hummers approaching from the north. When they got closer, we could see a recognizable symbol: Umbrella-NEO. They stopped just in front of us, and troops in riot gear with hi-powered rifles rushed out and surrounded us. One final figure in black leather came out of the head vehicle as the troops jarred us like cattle into one big herd. He was a tall guy, rather young. Blonde hair and dark black shades. I looked at my sister, and saw her shaking in her husband's arms.
"No," she whispered. "Not you."
"I'd think you'd be happy to see me, Claire," Steve Burnside snidely remarked, walking up to her. "But, alas, as it always goes…" Then Leon caught his eye.
"So you're the great Leon Kennedy," he growled. He lifted an arm, and punched him in the eye. Leon, caught blind by the hit, fell and rolled in the dust. This elicited laughter from the soldiers.
"NO!" the eighteen month old Marty Kennedy shouted, as he proceeded to his father's side.
"Such a cute kid," Steve said. "Too bad that we'll have to change that, when Big Al gets here."
"How the hell…" I gasped. Steve had died in the explosion in the Antarctic. But yet…he had just assaulted Leon and now stood looking at me.
"Wesker helped me escape after you and Claire left me for dead, Chris," he said, as if he could read my mind. "He promised me that after I recovered, that I could find you and pay you your fair share. Get them to the vehicles, men. We're about to show them our own version of Desert Paradise." We were shuffled to the Hummers, and I saw Steve kneel down by Leon and whisper something. Steve swiftly kicked him in the sides several times, and left him in the sands.
"What about him?" one soldier asked.
"Nobody from miles around," Steve answered. "Leave him. He'll die a worse death than we have planned for them."
I awoke and pushed myself up, only to see myself back on the Gulfstream with Carlos next to me.
"They took them, Leon," he said. "I couldn't stop them. I could only hide on the plane." I stood up and looked out the door at the tracks in the sand.
"Can we go after them?" I asked.
"Well, I do have that forklift in the plane," Carlos said. "But it can only hit about 55."
"Get it down. We'll use it. Get as many guns as you can, and let's go."
That bastard had my wife, my son, and everyone else I cared about. There was nothing else on my mind. I had to strike, and strike quickly.
New complications make themselves known day by day now. Now Steve's back…and Wesker's alive? Can Leon and Carlos rescue everyone, or will they finally meet the end?