Chapter 1
Versailles Island, somewhere off the coast of France
2300 hrs, September 25th, 1998
"Commander Redfield, we'll be arriving at the island soon, E.T.A, ten minutes!" The helicopter pilot shouted in his thick French accent. The chopper blades and engine noise meant everybody had to talk via radio, and even then, it was difficult to hear.
"Right, I want a gear check everybody! We don't want to be caught with our pants down once we get there! Jacques! Drop us off on the southern beach, we'll work our way to the Umbrella compound through the forest undetected!" Chris shouted. Everybody immediately began loading their weapons. It had taken Barry and Chris several months to do it, but they had finally tracked Umbrella's new European Headquarters the Versailles Island. They found it when they made contact with a small group of French saboteurs intent with destroying Umbrella. They all had their reasons. The group called itself "Hard Rain" symbolising it's hatred for Umbrella. 'A bit radical,' Chris thought 'but well trained in combat, like S.T.A.R.S. was'
Chris looked over to Barry who loaded up his magnum, and put several speed loaders into his vest and side packs. He nodded to Chris, who gave him thumbs up, then began sorting his own weapons. Chris still had his old 9MM that he used in the Mansion lab, and placed it in its holster, taking three extra clips for it. He then reached into the duffel bag at his feet and grabbed an Assault shotgun, loading it with ten shells, and putting an extra twenty in his side pack. He finally took his old Air Force knife and inserted it into his shoulder sheath. He and Barry were dressed in their old S.T.A.R.S uniforms for this mission, while the Hard Rain group was dressed in a more SWAT team look, all black uniforms littered with pockets and equipment, with night vision goggles. The team consisted of Barry and Chris as outside consultants in fighting the mutations that surely stalked the island and four other Hard Rain members, excluding Jacques Chirac, the team pilot, who was a hell of a lot braver then Brad Vickers ever was. The four members accompanying Chris and Barry were Hard Rain Captain, Jean Vertault, demolitions expert Lean Trembley, and the two grunts of the group, Xavier Thibault, and Claude Dumont. All three were armed with MP5's and 9MM pistols as sidearm.
"Excuses moi, Chris, but are we right in expecting any creatures other then Umbrella guards on the island?" Jean asked in broken English. Chris looked over. His goggles were up on top of his black hair, leaving his blue eyes exposed. Chris nodded quickly and shouted his reply.
"We're passing through the forest! Chances are, that's where Umbrella's released any of its first experiments done here in France, Jean!" Jean didn't seem at all pleased by this, and sat back and nodded slowly to Chris. Chris forced a smile, as if to re-assure him everything would be all right. Lean finished loading up her sub-machine rifle, and put a black ski mask on, covering the last of her pale skin and blonde hair. Her cold green eyes remained exposed for the time being. She had several C4 explosive charges in her many side packs and pockets, ready to destroy the lab's most critical points. Xavier and Claude waited silently, black ski masks covering their faces, as the final five minutes to arrival ticked down slowly. Chris joined Jacques up front, sitting in the passenger chair.
"Chris, mon ami, are you sure that you six can take this one by yourselves?" Jacques asked. Chris looked over, seeing only Jacques exposed mouth and stubble chin, the rest being covered by his helmet and visor. Chris smiled weakly.
"Don't worry about us Jacques, we're capable. As you know, Barry and I here survived that Mansion lab incident back in June. And you guys look very capable." Chris said more enthusiastically then he felt.
"Ah oui, ces vrai, I wish you good luck Chris. Bring back my team safely." Jacques said with a smile as he killed the lights and brought the helicopter down on the island's southern beach. The Hard Rain group, or "Pluie Dur", as they were known in French, all activated their night vision goggles. Chris and Barry jumped out of the chopper behind the team, weapons at the ready. At this moment, Chris thought of only one thing. "Jill.I hope you're alright. You and Jim." Chris muttered under his breath as he and the team moved into the island forests. Little did he know, things were far from all right in Racoon City. In fact, the situation had gone straight down to hell.
"Jill! Behind you!" Jim shouted. He let his Desert Eagle do the talking from there as it shattered a zombie's head in a blast of brain, blood and bone. Jill nodded to him and the two ran down the street to their safe house. In the month since Chris and Barry had left them to defend the town with the other survivors, things had gone really bad in Racoon City. Jim suspected that at least eighty percent of the city was under control by Umbrella's mutations. He, Jill and several of the other survivors had taken shelter in a nearby residential area, hiding in some of the houses. Jill and Jim had been going on nightly search operations, looking for more survivors. During the day it was too easy to be spotted by the creatures roaming the streets, but they could move at night safely enough. They had developed a special bond during these missions, but of the non-romantic variety. They trusted each other with their lives, Jim watched her back, and she watched his. Jim and Jill, coming back from another unsuccessful search, headed into "their" house. It was eerily dark inside, and Jim flipped on a dim lamp, and fell back into the dusty leather recliner in the living room.
"Getting comfortable Jim?" Jill asked as she locked the door tightly. Jim released his empty clip from its place, and slammed a new one home.
"Nothing better after a hard days work. How's our food supply?" Jim asked, out of breath. He was clad in SWAT gear, one of the few things he'd managed to retrieve from the Police Department armoury before they lost their foothold there. He remembered that day clearly. The roof team fired round after round, but these new creatures had joined in on the fun, 'lickers' everyone had called them. They looked slightly human, but inside out, with long venomous tongues and claws, hence the name. Eventually, the zombies and lickers, among other creatures, broke through the front door. Jim and Jill had rushed downstairs in time to see them crash through. Everyone retreated, of course, into one of the office rooms, where many of us were cornered. Jill led us through one of the back doors, but three men were left behind in there. We lost more and more as we made our way to the dog kennel area, and into the armoury. Jim grabbed a SWAT uniform for it's added stealth and armour, and every last one of the Desert Eagle clips, stuffing them into a small duffel bag, along with Jill's 9MM clips. Jill grabbed a second, larger bag filled with shotgun rounds, and the Assault Shotgun to go with it. They had to leave the shotgun and Grenade Launcher they had in the S.T.A.R.S office behind, along with many other things of value. From there, they and the other survivors piled into SWAT team vans. Jill and Jim rode up front in the first one with a load of survivors in the back, while Dave and another officer took the one behind them. While the first van took off, the second one never made it, as a licker busted into the cab along side Dave, killing him and the passenger. Jim didn't want to think of the massacre that was in that second truck, still parked in front of the exit to the garage.
"Hey Jim? You still with me?" Jill brought Jim out of his trance. He nodded slowly as Jill handed him some energy bars and a can of coke. All they had were non-perishable food items, since those were the only things still good inside the supermarkets around the area. Food runs were a particularly dangerous business to be in. The commercial areas were often the most infested with zombies, infested dogs, among other creatures. Only the strongest fighters of the survivors went on food runs.
"Jill, what the hell are we gonna do? It seems we've housed every survivor there is in this area, now we need to get them out of the city, don't we? Our ammo won't last forever." Jim said as he munched unhappily at his energy bar.
"I know Jim, I know. If only Brad hadn't taken off at the first sign of danger, as usual. If only he wasn't such a chicken shit!" Jill started angrily, clutching her shotgun. Jim calmed her with his hand. He knew they had to start another conversation, however, because if he didn't they would be able to hear the sounds coming from outside.
"How is our ammo anyway?" Jim asked, wanting to keep up the noise. For the first week or so, they'd been able to pick up TV channels from surrounding areas, but for one reason or another both the TV and Radio could no longer pick anything up, hence forcing them to keep each other from going insane. Jill looked through both duffel bags for a while then layed out the ammunition on the floor.
"Well, as you know I've been conserving my shotgun rounds, only using them against Lickers and the bigger boys, but since we mostly run into zombies, I'm down to my last 30 or so clips for my pistol. We still got a good 63 clips for your Desert Eagle. I still have a lot of shells for my shotgun, so we're still in decent, if not good, shape." She explained.
"We should use this ammo, and try to find a working vehicle with enough fuel to get us out of the city Jill. So far all the cars we've found have either been trashed, or out of gas! And we used all the fuel in the SWAT van just finding a good place to hide out." Jim said, complaining for the sake of keeping the silence broken. That night, Jim and Jill kept the silence broken, by formulating a plan to escape from the city.
TO BE CONTINUED.
A/N: Ok, there's the thrilling first chapter! R & R please! Tell me what YOU, the reader, think! Flame if you like for getting some details wrong because I KNOW I have, or offer constructive criticism (or tell me how totally awesome sweet this fic is, that's a nice option too!(). Thanks.
Versailles Island, somewhere off the coast of France
2300 hrs, September 25th, 1998
"Commander Redfield, we'll be arriving at the island soon, E.T.A, ten minutes!" The helicopter pilot shouted in his thick French accent. The chopper blades and engine noise meant everybody had to talk via radio, and even then, it was difficult to hear.
"Right, I want a gear check everybody! We don't want to be caught with our pants down once we get there! Jacques! Drop us off on the southern beach, we'll work our way to the Umbrella compound through the forest undetected!" Chris shouted. Everybody immediately began loading their weapons. It had taken Barry and Chris several months to do it, but they had finally tracked Umbrella's new European Headquarters the Versailles Island. They found it when they made contact with a small group of French saboteurs intent with destroying Umbrella. They all had their reasons. The group called itself "Hard Rain" symbolising it's hatred for Umbrella. 'A bit radical,' Chris thought 'but well trained in combat, like S.T.A.R.S. was'
Chris looked over to Barry who loaded up his magnum, and put several speed loaders into his vest and side packs. He nodded to Chris, who gave him thumbs up, then began sorting his own weapons. Chris still had his old 9MM that he used in the Mansion lab, and placed it in its holster, taking three extra clips for it. He then reached into the duffel bag at his feet and grabbed an Assault shotgun, loading it with ten shells, and putting an extra twenty in his side pack. He finally took his old Air Force knife and inserted it into his shoulder sheath. He and Barry were dressed in their old S.T.A.R.S uniforms for this mission, while the Hard Rain group was dressed in a more SWAT team look, all black uniforms littered with pockets and equipment, with night vision goggles. The team consisted of Barry and Chris as outside consultants in fighting the mutations that surely stalked the island and four other Hard Rain members, excluding Jacques Chirac, the team pilot, who was a hell of a lot braver then Brad Vickers ever was. The four members accompanying Chris and Barry were Hard Rain Captain, Jean Vertault, demolitions expert Lean Trembley, and the two grunts of the group, Xavier Thibault, and Claude Dumont. All three were armed with MP5's and 9MM pistols as sidearm.
"Excuses moi, Chris, but are we right in expecting any creatures other then Umbrella guards on the island?" Jean asked in broken English. Chris looked over. His goggles were up on top of his black hair, leaving his blue eyes exposed. Chris nodded quickly and shouted his reply.
"We're passing through the forest! Chances are, that's where Umbrella's released any of its first experiments done here in France, Jean!" Jean didn't seem at all pleased by this, and sat back and nodded slowly to Chris. Chris forced a smile, as if to re-assure him everything would be all right. Lean finished loading up her sub-machine rifle, and put a black ski mask on, covering the last of her pale skin and blonde hair. Her cold green eyes remained exposed for the time being. She had several C4 explosive charges in her many side packs and pockets, ready to destroy the lab's most critical points. Xavier and Claude waited silently, black ski masks covering their faces, as the final five minutes to arrival ticked down slowly. Chris joined Jacques up front, sitting in the passenger chair.
"Chris, mon ami, are you sure that you six can take this one by yourselves?" Jacques asked. Chris looked over, seeing only Jacques exposed mouth and stubble chin, the rest being covered by his helmet and visor. Chris smiled weakly.
"Don't worry about us Jacques, we're capable. As you know, Barry and I here survived that Mansion lab incident back in June. And you guys look very capable." Chris said more enthusiastically then he felt.
"Ah oui, ces vrai, I wish you good luck Chris. Bring back my team safely." Jacques said with a smile as he killed the lights and brought the helicopter down on the island's southern beach. The Hard Rain group, or "Pluie Dur", as they were known in French, all activated their night vision goggles. Chris and Barry jumped out of the chopper behind the team, weapons at the ready. At this moment, Chris thought of only one thing. "Jill.I hope you're alright. You and Jim." Chris muttered under his breath as he and the team moved into the island forests. Little did he know, things were far from all right in Racoon City. In fact, the situation had gone straight down to hell.
"Jill! Behind you!" Jim shouted. He let his Desert Eagle do the talking from there as it shattered a zombie's head in a blast of brain, blood and bone. Jill nodded to him and the two ran down the street to their safe house. In the month since Chris and Barry had left them to defend the town with the other survivors, things had gone really bad in Racoon City. Jim suspected that at least eighty percent of the city was under control by Umbrella's mutations. He, Jill and several of the other survivors had taken shelter in a nearby residential area, hiding in some of the houses. Jill and Jim had been going on nightly search operations, looking for more survivors. During the day it was too easy to be spotted by the creatures roaming the streets, but they could move at night safely enough. They had developed a special bond during these missions, but of the non-romantic variety. They trusted each other with their lives, Jim watched her back, and she watched his. Jim and Jill, coming back from another unsuccessful search, headed into "their" house. It was eerily dark inside, and Jim flipped on a dim lamp, and fell back into the dusty leather recliner in the living room.
"Getting comfortable Jim?" Jill asked as she locked the door tightly. Jim released his empty clip from its place, and slammed a new one home.
"Nothing better after a hard days work. How's our food supply?" Jim asked, out of breath. He was clad in SWAT gear, one of the few things he'd managed to retrieve from the Police Department armoury before they lost their foothold there. He remembered that day clearly. The roof team fired round after round, but these new creatures had joined in on the fun, 'lickers' everyone had called them. They looked slightly human, but inside out, with long venomous tongues and claws, hence the name. Eventually, the zombies and lickers, among other creatures, broke through the front door. Jim and Jill had rushed downstairs in time to see them crash through. Everyone retreated, of course, into one of the office rooms, where many of us were cornered. Jill led us through one of the back doors, but three men were left behind in there. We lost more and more as we made our way to the dog kennel area, and into the armoury. Jim grabbed a SWAT uniform for it's added stealth and armour, and every last one of the Desert Eagle clips, stuffing them into a small duffel bag, along with Jill's 9MM clips. Jill grabbed a second, larger bag filled with shotgun rounds, and the Assault Shotgun to go with it. They had to leave the shotgun and Grenade Launcher they had in the S.T.A.R.S office behind, along with many other things of value. From there, they and the other survivors piled into SWAT team vans. Jill and Jim rode up front in the first one with a load of survivors in the back, while Dave and another officer took the one behind them. While the first van took off, the second one never made it, as a licker busted into the cab along side Dave, killing him and the passenger. Jim didn't want to think of the massacre that was in that second truck, still parked in front of the exit to the garage.
"Hey Jim? You still with me?" Jill brought Jim out of his trance. He nodded slowly as Jill handed him some energy bars and a can of coke. All they had were non-perishable food items, since those were the only things still good inside the supermarkets around the area. Food runs were a particularly dangerous business to be in. The commercial areas were often the most infested with zombies, infested dogs, among other creatures. Only the strongest fighters of the survivors went on food runs.
"Jill, what the hell are we gonna do? It seems we've housed every survivor there is in this area, now we need to get them out of the city, don't we? Our ammo won't last forever." Jim said as he munched unhappily at his energy bar.
"I know Jim, I know. If only Brad hadn't taken off at the first sign of danger, as usual. If only he wasn't such a chicken shit!" Jill started angrily, clutching her shotgun. Jim calmed her with his hand. He knew they had to start another conversation, however, because if he didn't they would be able to hear the sounds coming from outside.
"How is our ammo anyway?" Jim asked, wanting to keep up the noise. For the first week or so, they'd been able to pick up TV channels from surrounding areas, but for one reason or another both the TV and Radio could no longer pick anything up, hence forcing them to keep each other from going insane. Jill looked through both duffel bags for a while then layed out the ammunition on the floor.
"Well, as you know I've been conserving my shotgun rounds, only using them against Lickers and the bigger boys, but since we mostly run into zombies, I'm down to my last 30 or so clips for my pistol. We still got a good 63 clips for your Desert Eagle. I still have a lot of shells for my shotgun, so we're still in decent, if not good, shape." She explained.
"We should use this ammo, and try to find a working vehicle with enough fuel to get us out of the city Jill. So far all the cars we've found have either been trashed, or out of gas! And we used all the fuel in the SWAT van just finding a good place to hide out." Jim said, complaining for the sake of keeping the silence broken. That night, Jim and Jill kept the silence broken, by formulating a plan to escape from the city.
TO BE CONTINUED.
A/N: Ok, there's the thrilling first chapter! R & R please! Tell me what YOU, the reader, think! Flame if you like for getting some details wrong because I KNOW I have, or offer constructive criticism (or tell me how totally awesome sweet this fic is, that's a nice option too!(). Thanks.