Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the RE characters.  And why is that…?

Chapter 6

            Wesker pushed up his sunglasses and looked closely at the computer screen.  Hunk…  It seemed as though he had switched sides.  Oh well, it's not like he, or any of the others pose a threat anyway.  He spun around in his chair and got on his feet in one fluid motion.  His superhuman abilities did come in handy, and even gave him complete awareness of his surroundings.

            He pushed the button to release the cargo hatch door, and walked out of the room.  Walking though the short corridor leading to the hangar, he started thinking.  I'm sure Chris will soon be there…  Wesker clenched his fists at the mention of his name.  How he hated Chris Redfield.  He ruined everything for him, and he would pay dearly for crossing Wesker.

            He pressed the button marked 'door open' and stepped in.  The Harrier waited for him in the large room, and he planned on using it.  A smirk crawled its way across his lips as he hopped into the Harrier.  You will pay, no matter what, Chris Redfield…

            Woodrow tapped frantically on the keys of the large computer.  "You're supposed to be dead!"  He yelled at the screen.  Leon had teamed up with the last surviving member of the Umbrella team, and they were slowly making their way through level B1.  He hadn't released the Sa2's yet, and he wasn't palling on it.  He would save them for the group of ex-S.T.A.R.S. that would surly arrive in 12-15 hours, according to his estimations.

            Just to be safe he tapped the key that locked the cargo elevator in place.  That should keep them busy…

            As he turned around in his chair, it suddenly hit him.  The dogs!  Of course, why didn't he think of it before?  They're expendable, and there were at least twelve specimens; enough to keep them at bay.  For a little while at least.

            He ran over to the cage controls and pressed the release button for the Cerberus' cages.

            Now, just sit back and enjoy the show.  He mind wandered as he took a seat in front of the wall of monitors.  One of the pictures showed a room on level B2; one he hoped Leon would enter.  I'm going to enjoy watching him break down…

            Leon walked slowly down the small hallway with Hunk to his left.  Then suddenly he heard a slight clicking sound.  "Wait."  He said, holding up his hand.

            "What the hell is that?"  Hunk asked, raising his gun.

            "Goddamned dogs."  Leon responded as he holstered the Desert Eagle and pulled out the Remington.  "Aim down."

            Hunk immediately aimed his handgun towards the floor.  "I hate dogs."  He said, getting closer to the center of the hallway.

            "You'll really hate these.  They—

            Leon shut up as a soft growl filled the corridor.  The tapping quickened, and several more growls joined in with the first.  "Wait for them to jump, then fire."  He whispered.

            Hunk nodded his acknowledgment, and looked toward the back of the hallway.  The dogs finally showed themselves; the first one slid around the corner with ease.  But something was wrong.

            "Holy shit!"  Leon yelled, steeling himself to take the shot.  The dog didn't look normal; it had sharp spikes sticking out of its back as if they were connected to its spine.  Leon didn't have a chance to study it any further, as it was now lunging towards him.  He cursed something profane under his breath and took the shot, hitting the dog in its face.  It let out a yelp and fell back.

            Leon heard shots next to him as Hunk pelted one of the dogs with his nine-millimeter.  "I hate dogs!"  Hunk yelled as he finished off the animal.

            Leon couldn't help but smile at Hunk's remark, but it faded when he heard the soft growl coming from behind, and when he spun around, three of the dogs were waiting for him.

            "Uh, Leon!"  Hunk yelled from beside him.

            He spun around just in time to see the dog that he shot in the face get up off the ground.  "Shit."  He breathed.

            Blood dripped off its chin and made a small pool on the floor as it let out another growl.

            How the hell can it see?  His mind wondered as he un-slung the M4.  He caught a glimpse of it lifting its head and sniffing the air before he threw the Remington to Hunk.  "Take the front!"  He yelled, turning around and getting a bead on one of the dogs' faces.

            But in an instant it was gong; running at an angle towards the wall.  It jumped, hit the wall, and then jumped again, directly at Leon's throat.  Shitshitshit.  He fired madly at it as the animal flew through the air.  Finally he hit it in its throat; blood sprayed the walls and floor behind it.  It yelped, but it was still flying towards Leon.

            He smacked the limp dog with the butt of the rifle, and it hit the wall with a we sound.

            Leon heard Hunk yell something, and when he turned around one of the dogs was biting down on Hunk's arm.  He ran to Hunk's aid, smashing the dogs face with the rifle.  Another growl came from behind him.

            "God damnit."

Wesker landed the Harrier carefully on the giant H on the top of the large building.  As he opened the hatch he started thinking what the death toll was.  He knew Leon Kennedy was now in the facility, and he thought he saw the Redfield girl, but he couldn't be sure.  Woodrow covered his ass pretty well; shutting off the security cameras, but Wesker would still get the sample.

His company, HCF, was very interested in Woodrow's new virus, and he was getting paid a lot of money to get it for them.

Wesker hopped out of the cockpit and headed for the roof entrance.  He hoped Redfield's sister hadn't been killed yet, he wanted to save that pleasure for himself.  Two birds with one stone…  He thought as a smile curled across his lips.

Wesker was only armed with a Browning nine-millimeter, but it's not like he needed it.  His virus enhanced body was more than enough to take down anything with two legs.

He opened the roof door slowly and carefully.  "Ready or not, here I come."

            Barry sat back in the not-so comfortable airline chair and kept his nose in the newspaper.  The news about Raccoon was just now starting to die down, but the media was still leeching off the tragedy.  God damned Umbrella.  He thought.  It was Umbrella that was responsible for him being away from his family, who were hiding away in Canada.  The sooner we get Umbrella, the sooner I can be with them.

            He then noticed that it was quiet.  The entire trip Carlos and Rebecca had been flirting loudly and it had broken his concentration.  Then why is it so quiet?  He pulled his nose out from the paper and looked over to their seats.  Which were now empty.  Where did they—

            "God damnit."  He said under his breath.  He looked up to the bathroom, which was near the back of the plane.  The door was closed.  "God damnit."  He said louder, pulling himself up off the seat.  If they're doing what I think they're doing…

            Jill relaxed a little, sitting back in the comfortable first-class chair and opened the airline magazine.  Chris snored loudly next to her, and she couldn't help but smile a little.  He needed to relax, we both did.

            Jill had talked Chris into getting first class tickets, telling him they needed to relax.  And from the looks of it, I was right.  With a poutie face he handed over his credit card to the airline attendant.

            She smiled again; Chris could always make her laugh.  And that's probably why you can never stop thinking about him, huh?

            Chris suddenly mumbled loudly in his sleep, as his head slid down the chair, straight for—

            "Chris wake—

            It was too late, his forehead smacked into the plastic armrest.  He shot straight up, almost falling out of his chair in his grogginess.  "Wha happen?"  He said, slowly opening his eyes.

            Jill covered her mouth to keep from laughing, but to no avail.  She burst out in loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

            "Ow…"  Chris whined.  "What hit me?"  He asked, rubbing his forehead.

            "Y-you, head, armrest…"  She said between bursts of laughter.

            "What?  Jill, I can't understand you."  He said with a puzzled look.  "What's so funny?"

            Jill slowly regained her composure.  "You hit your," she paused to try not to laugh again.  "Your head on the armrest."  She covered her mouth again as a second wave of laughter threatened to take over.

            Chris blushed heavily.  "That's no reason to laugh…"

            She looked up at the giant red mark on his forehead and let out another burst of laughter.

            "People are starting to stare."  Chris said, looking down and trying to hide his face.

            Jill calmed down a little, and her laughter became quieter.  "I'm sorry, it was just so…"  She paused, trying to find a word to describe it.  "Cute."  She said finally.

            "Cute?  You think me injuring myself is cute?"  Chris said, cocking an eyebrow.  "I'd hate to think what you would say if I got hit by a car."

            She couldn't contain herself anymore.  She burst out in loud laughter once again.

            Leon held the smoking gun in trembling hands.  Blood dripped down the once-white walls, and five lifeless bodies of the dogs littered the hallway.  "Jesus Christ."  Leon said, slumping against the wall and sliding down into a sitting position.  Hunk simply nodded and did the same, clutching the wound on his arm.

            Leon didn't know if Hunk was going to make it, one of the dogs left a deep gash in his right arm, ripping a big chunk out of it.  His leg was also wounded; a deep bite mark was left on his left calf.

            Hunk pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, the offered Leon one.  What the hell.  Leon took the pack and lit one of his own.

            "Keep 'em."  Hunk said, blowing out smoke.  "I don't think I can go on."

            Leon slowly nodded; he understood.  At least he's going down on the good side.  He took a drag of his cigarette.  "You kicked ass."

            Hunk smiled.  "You too, buddy.  It was nice to actually do something good for a change."

            "Do you think you're infected?"  Leon asked.

            "80% yes, 20% no."  He said, no worry in his voice.  "But I don't want to take any chances; I'm going to have to eat a bullet."  He took a drag.

            "Okay."  Leon said simply.  He admired Hunk for what he'd done.  He fought with all his strength; one last hurrah for the good guys.
            "After the victory smoke."  He smiled, his wild black hair sticking to his face.  "Can I ask you something?"

            "Shoot."  Leon said, taking another drag.

            "Why the hell did you come into the death-trap?"

            "A girl."  He said simply.  "I found her dead a ways back though."  Leon clenched his fist.  "Someone killed her."

            Hunk looked down.  "Shoot him in the leg once for me, will ya?"  He put out his cigarette on the floor.

            "Sure thing."  Leon said, getting up, and sticking the cigarette in his mouth.  "Can I ask you a question?"

            "Sure."  He said, still sitting on the floor.

            "What's your real name?"  He asked, sticking the cigarette in his mouth.

            He laughed.  "Adam."

            "Okay Adam, it was nice fighting alongside you."

            "You too, and good luck finding that bastard."  Hunk said, leaning against the wall a little heavier.

            "Thanks."  And with that said, Leon turned and began walking down the corridor.  He'd been walking for half a minute when he heard the loud nine-millimeter go off.  Leon continued down the hallway, without looking back.

To all you Claire fans out there:  Somebody had to die didn't they?  Relax, you never know what could happen…