Over the next five days, Raccoon City began to die. The spill at Birkin's labs was a much more
serious outbreak then the one in the Spencer Mansion, in that it was larger and started in the
center of the city. The outbreak was slow to start, but once it got going it became unstoppable.
Even worse, some people were hit with both outbreaks at once. Said indeviduals virtually turned
inside out, and grew a vicious set of claws. Oddly enough, their tongues elongated and sharpened
at the end. These monsters were nicknamed "lickers".
Meanwhile, the Umbrella Corporation was in a mailstrum of activity.
Ozwell Spencer strode into the board meeting with an icy aura of calm. The low mutterings
that had been present before his entrance silenced at once. The men around the table were just as
cutthroat as Spencer was, but everybody understood that nobody fucked around with him.
"Gentlemen," he said neutrally, as though the corporation was not about to go down the
fucking toilet, "it seems that we have a problem in Raccoon City. I expect that roomours have
been rampent around the offices, so I will set the facts--the facts, gentlemen--out here. By an
unknown means, the T-Virus has spilled from one of our labs and has contaminated the city. This--
"
"Godddamnit," a member of the board interrupted harshly, "there must be something wrong with
our containment facilities! This is the SECOND time that a spill has occurred in Raccoon City! I
find myself questioning the compitence of the workers there."
Ozwell leveled an ice-cold glare at the man who had interrupted. He seemed to shrink in his
chair.
"Be, that, as, it, may..." Spencer replied, making it quite clear from the tone of his voice
that further discussion on this point was CLOSED, "The city is in the process of destroying
itself due to the virus. Hundreds have already died, and the outbreak shows no signs of stopping.
The possibility of the virus spreading to beyond Raccoon is a serious possibility, gentlemen.
Also, i feel it prudent to add that Dr. William Birkin has gone missing."
"Do we have any idea what might have caused the outbreak?" asked the man who had orriginally
interrupted, his voice now lowered and respectful. Spencer gave him a slight nod of
acknowledgement. "We can make all sorts of guesses, but we'll probably never know for sure."
"Was Birkin working on anything... special... at the time?" asked someone.
Spencer nodded slowly. "The G-Virus," he said pointedly, givving them a moment to consider
this fact. "It makes little difference in any case. The spill in the mansion (he did not say "my
mansion") was due to James Marcus; this second spill may be due to a similarly unstable element
that does not figure into our security precautions."
"Has the United States government made a response?"
"As of yet they have not, but you can rest assured they will."
"What about the STARS?" This was asked by the executive at the foot of the table.
"Only one member has remained within Raccoon City, and that is Jill Valentine. She has
stayed to attempt to gather evidence against us. So far she has been rather unsuccessful, which
is why we have left her unharassed up till now."
"Up till now," someone mumbled to himself, his brows furrowed in thought.
"You have something to say?" Ozwell asked him.
"... Yes, I do. Raccoon City is filled with mutated monsters, yes?" There were nods. "And it
is unlikely that anyone will make it out alive, yes?" more nods.
"What are you thinking?"
"Why don't we release one of our bioweapons--possibly a Tyrant--into the city and give it
orders to eliminate the surviving STARS?"
There were grumbles and nods around the table. Spencer turned to him, a slight smile on his
lipps.
"All in favor?"
The vote was unanimously in favor.
"Mr. Spencer, if I may speak?" Spencer nodded. "I know that this company has no qualms with
killing cevillians, just as I do not, but I feel that this should be avoided unless necessary. I
propose we send in some of our own people to rescue survivors."
"You are suggesting we sacrifice our manpower to help cevillians?" asked another board
member. "And what good would it do? We have only a relative handful of men to send against an
army! What is the likeliness that they will do any good?"
"Our men will be much more heavily armed then anyone else in the city. In addition, they
have better training, and know what they are up against."
There was a murmer of consideration around the table.
"And let us not forget that the soldiers will certainly provide excellent combat data."
"All in favor?" Spencer asked after a moment.
The vote was, once again, unanimous.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, a similar board meeting was taking place in a similar
boardroom...
The faces around the table in the headquarters of Umbrella's French devision were much more
tense.
"Alright," one of the board members said harshly, "what do we know?
"We sent in our team on the 19th. They entered the lab, and were never heard from again.
After that, we began receiving reports of the T-Virus outbreak."
"Have you heard anything from--"
"No. Birkin seems to have disappeared."
"My god... if anyone finds out we had a hand in this..."
"Here's an even more terrifying prospect for you: what do you think happened to the G-
Virus?"
Everyone had to stop at that, imagining the effects of something like the G-Virus in post-
outbreak Raccoon.
"We have to get that sample out, before something even worse happens." There were tense nods
of agreement.
"How?" Someone asked. "We send a Tyrant," someone suggested. "One of the newer t-003 models,
that can understand basic commands."
There was a long pause. "That is the weirdest, craziest, most rediculous idea I have ever
heard you say, Robert," one of the men remarked.
"Well, what choice do we have? A Mr. X unit (a few people smirked for a second) has a much
better chance of locating it then any human we could send in, as well as a better chance of
survival."
"And what if our "Mr. X" runs into one of our agents on his way out while he's carrying a
vial of G-Virus, ever think of that?"
"What's the likeliness of that? If they were alive, they would have reported by now."
The President of the branch sat quietly at the head of the table, taking all the discussion
in. "No," he said finally. "Let us wait a few days first. If by 7 o'clock on the evening of
September 30th they have not reported in, then we shall send in our "Mr. X" unit."
On September 27th, the Raccoon Police department had a major battle with the zombies. They
barracaded a portion of town, and stood waiting for zombies to approach. They carried pistols,
submachine guns, and shotguns.
Unfortunately, this was not nearly enough. The Police force had no understanding of what they
were up against. They believed that they could just spray in random directions and drive them
off. They did not understand the dogged persistance the zombies had. Also, they underestimated
the gap in numbers between the police and the Zombies. Finally, the police had no understanding
of a zombie's physiology, and did not know until they tried that a zombie's brain had to be
disconnected from its spinal chord before it would "die".
By the time they realized these things, it was too late; they had already been overrun. The
surviving police officers, as wel as cevillians, withdrew to the main RPD building and locked the
doors, enforcing the place to withstand a seige from the undead. Over the next three days they
were slowly killed off, one by one, by the zombies and mutants from this war of attrition.
Durring the first fight, two helicopters with Umbrella logos dropped off several rediculously
heavily-armed men. These men were tougher and better prepared then the police were, but they were
too few against too many, and soon they too were running for their lives.
serious outbreak then the one in the Spencer Mansion, in that it was larger and started in the
center of the city. The outbreak was slow to start, but once it got going it became unstoppable.
Even worse, some people were hit with both outbreaks at once. Said indeviduals virtually turned
inside out, and grew a vicious set of claws. Oddly enough, their tongues elongated and sharpened
at the end. These monsters were nicknamed "lickers".
Meanwhile, the Umbrella Corporation was in a mailstrum of activity.
Ozwell Spencer strode into the board meeting with an icy aura of calm. The low mutterings
that had been present before his entrance silenced at once. The men around the table were just as
cutthroat as Spencer was, but everybody understood that nobody fucked around with him.
"Gentlemen," he said neutrally, as though the corporation was not about to go down the
fucking toilet, "it seems that we have a problem in Raccoon City. I expect that roomours have
been rampent around the offices, so I will set the facts--the facts, gentlemen--out here. By an
unknown means, the T-Virus has spilled from one of our labs and has contaminated the city. This--
"
"Godddamnit," a member of the board interrupted harshly, "there must be something wrong with
our containment facilities! This is the SECOND time that a spill has occurred in Raccoon City! I
find myself questioning the compitence of the workers there."
Ozwell leveled an ice-cold glare at the man who had interrupted. He seemed to shrink in his
chair.
"Be, that, as, it, may..." Spencer replied, making it quite clear from the tone of his voice
that further discussion on this point was CLOSED, "The city is in the process of destroying
itself due to the virus. Hundreds have already died, and the outbreak shows no signs of stopping.
The possibility of the virus spreading to beyond Raccoon is a serious possibility, gentlemen.
Also, i feel it prudent to add that Dr. William Birkin has gone missing."
"Do we have any idea what might have caused the outbreak?" asked the man who had orriginally
interrupted, his voice now lowered and respectful. Spencer gave him a slight nod of
acknowledgement. "We can make all sorts of guesses, but we'll probably never know for sure."
"Was Birkin working on anything... special... at the time?" asked someone.
Spencer nodded slowly. "The G-Virus," he said pointedly, givving them a moment to consider
this fact. "It makes little difference in any case. The spill in the mansion (he did not say "my
mansion") was due to James Marcus; this second spill may be due to a similarly unstable element
that does not figure into our security precautions."
"Has the United States government made a response?"
"As of yet they have not, but you can rest assured they will."
"What about the STARS?" This was asked by the executive at the foot of the table.
"Only one member has remained within Raccoon City, and that is Jill Valentine. She has
stayed to attempt to gather evidence against us. So far she has been rather unsuccessful, which
is why we have left her unharassed up till now."
"Up till now," someone mumbled to himself, his brows furrowed in thought.
"You have something to say?" Ozwell asked him.
"... Yes, I do. Raccoon City is filled with mutated monsters, yes?" There were nods. "And it
is unlikely that anyone will make it out alive, yes?" more nods.
"What are you thinking?"
"Why don't we release one of our bioweapons--possibly a Tyrant--into the city and give it
orders to eliminate the surviving STARS?"
There were grumbles and nods around the table. Spencer turned to him, a slight smile on his
lipps.
"All in favor?"
The vote was unanimously in favor.
"Mr. Spencer, if I may speak?" Spencer nodded. "I know that this company has no qualms with
killing cevillians, just as I do not, but I feel that this should be avoided unless necessary. I
propose we send in some of our own people to rescue survivors."
"You are suggesting we sacrifice our manpower to help cevillians?" asked another board
member. "And what good would it do? We have only a relative handful of men to send against an
army! What is the likeliness that they will do any good?"
"Our men will be much more heavily armed then anyone else in the city. In addition, they
have better training, and know what they are up against."
There was a murmer of consideration around the table.
"And let us not forget that the soldiers will certainly provide excellent combat data."
"All in favor?" Spencer asked after a moment.
The vote was, once again, unanimous.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, a similar board meeting was taking place in a similar
boardroom...
The faces around the table in the headquarters of Umbrella's French devision were much more
tense.
"Alright," one of the board members said harshly, "what do we know?
"We sent in our team on the 19th. They entered the lab, and were never heard from again.
After that, we began receiving reports of the T-Virus outbreak."
"Have you heard anything from--"
"No. Birkin seems to have disappeared."
"My god... if anyone finds out we had a hand in this..."
"Here's an even more terrifying prospect for you: what do you think happened to the G-
Virus?"
Everyone had to stop at that, imagining the effects of something like the G-Virus in post-
outbreak Raccoon.
"We have to get that sample out, before something even worse happens." There were tense nods
of agreement.
"How?" Someone asked. "We send a Tyrant," someone suggested. "One of the newer t-003 models,
that can understand basic commands."
There was a long pause. "That is the weirdest, craziest, most rediculous idea I have ever
heard you say, Robert," one of the men remarked.
"Well, what choice do we have? A Mr. X unit (a few people smirked for a second) has a much
better chance of locating it then any human we could send in, as well as a better chance of
survival."
"And what if our "Mr. X" runs into one of our agents on his way out while he's carrying a
vial of G-Virus, ever think of that?"
"What's the likeliness of that? If they were alive, they would have reported by now."
The President of the branch sat quietly at the head of the table, taking all the discussion
in. "No," he said finally. "Let us wait a few days first. If by 7 o'clock on the evening of
September 30th they have not reported in, then we shall send in our "Mr. X" unit."
On September 27th, the Raccoon Police department had a major battle with the zombies. They
barracaded a portion of town, and stood waiting for zombies to approach. They carried pistols,
submachine guns, and shotguns.
Unfortunately, this was not nearly enough. The Police force had no understanding of what they
were up against. They believed that they could just spray in random directions and drive them
off. They did not understand the dogged persistance the zombies had. Also, they underestimated
the gap in numbers between the police and the Zombies. Finally, the police had no understanding
of a zombie's physiology, and did not know until they tried that a zombie's brain had to be
disconnected from its spinal chord before it would "die".
By the time they realized these things, it was too late; they had already been overrun. The
surviving police officers, as wel as cevillians, withdrew to the main RPD building and locked the
doors, enforcing the place to withstand a seige from the undead. Over the next three days they
were slowly killed off, one by one, by the zombies and mutants from this war of attrition.
Durring the first fight, two helicopters with Umbrella logos dropped off several rediculously
heavily-armed men. These men were tougher and better prepared then the police were, but they were
too few against too many, and soon they too were running for their lives.