Author's Notes: My, what a prolific day. We finally return to the present in this demented universe that I've crafted, and you, the reader, will finally see just why this is entitled Outbreak.

Disclaimer: Resident Evil is a copyright of Capcom, inc., and I assert no ownership of it. If by their request, or the request of an authorized representative, I shall immediately remove this work from fanfiction.net.

Outbreak: Chapter Three

Neilson City Central Planning Commission, Neilson City

21:00- Now

Crackling thunder contested with the roaring helicopter rotor blades for dominance of the hearing of the twelve commandos. A pair of dark, sinister shapes swiftly, almost heedlessly, plummeted to the wide, smooth rooftop of the Central Planning Commission; the thick, rounded wheels impacted the flat, gray concrete with a dull thump. Their blades still whirling in a spastic, stroboscopic pattern beneath the flickering azure light of the lighting above them, the twin helicopters discharged their lethal cargo.

Dark, ominous forms slipped silently from within the bowels of the choppers, torrential hails of rain pounding relentlessly against their black uniforms. Their faces were entirely covered, red, flickering lights from the night vision goggles strapped to their heads giving them an unearthly, insidious appearance; they were deadly apparitions, ghosts of vengeance, ready to strike down all that saw them.

Appolonia could feel her heart pulsating thunderously in her chest, the overwhelming excitement of a mission never having lessened despite her vast experience. She raised a single gloved hand, motioning for the eleven similar shapes flanking her slender form to spread out across the platform. Her own weapon readied, she stepped deliberately, inexorably toward the blinking green light of the emergency elevator atop the roof. The small, square-shaped edifice protruded jaggedly from the building like a concrete blister, the only other raised objects atop the massive, gothic structure several scattered ventilation fans and a small radio antenna.

"Ma'am," the hushed voice of one of her subordinates crackled through her radio. "Area clear. Got that elevator running yet?"

"Almost ready, Jacobson." She experimentally tapped several commands into the elevator controls, a smile growing over her obscured face as the elevator car hummed obediently skyward. "All units, gather at the elevator. We're ready, team."

"Appolonia," Mueller's taciturn voice came to life over the communications channel. "I'll be assuming command of the unit." The form of her stoic commanding officer slowly approached, silhouetted like a demon from the depths of hell against the glittering city lights.

"Understood, sir." She sighed, raising her head up toward the shower of tearing, crystalline water droplets cascading down onto her body. The thin, rubber insulation of the suit roared as a new mass of water spattered against it, the material glistening.

The recessed doors of the elevator cracked apart with a metallic groan, the ill-used device creaking as the men and women of the squad piled inside; it was an uncomfortable, cramped conveyance, most likely not intended to carry twelve humans, each weighed down with a bevy of heavy gear. Dull, blued lights starkly contrasted the stunning cityscape visible from the rooftop, the subdued twinkle of the fluorescent lights creating a sense of foreboding; it was bereft of warmth, accentuating the chill of their wet uniforms.

"Deactivate your radios to conserve power," Mueller barked, his harsh voice filling the small cubicle.

After a short series of dull clicks, the subtle buzzing of the radios went completely silent, an ethereal, frigid quietness choking the musty atmosphere of the elevator car. Only a gentle, persistent hum could be heard between the slow, controlled breathing of the men inside the vessel as it made its controlled plummet to the ground floor. Finally, after what seemed to be hours of deafening, cruel silence, the elevator came to an abrupt halt; the sudden jerk made even the unflappable Mueller jolt, the anxious silence finally having come to an end.

"Move it, people." Mueller whispered heatedly, motioning toward the now-revealed foyer of the expansive ground floor through the parted doors. "Two-by-two, sweep pattern. No one should be here, but we can't be too cautious."

The cluster of shadows acquiescently scattered, forming two-body square boxes of rapidly-moving darkness; agile flesh and sinewy muscle beneath a shroud of impenetrable black made its unstoppable progression toward the inevitable goal. Only shallow breathing and the staccato, subdued tapping of boots on the marble floor were audible above the high- pitched whine of rows and rows of computer terminals that lined the polished walls of the hall. Deliberate, cautious movements brought the group to a single doorway, a pair of large, menacing three-headed gargoyles on both sides the guardians to the domain beyond; twin Cerberuses, anxious to take the lives of those that would disturb the Hades that lay behind them.

"What's with the creepy gargoyles?" Mikhail's low bass echoed in the narrow corridor.

"Those are the two access panels for the door. There should be card- readers or keypads somewhere inside of them." Appolonia whispered, making Mikhail's discreet question seem like an explosive shout in comparison.

"Shut up, you two." Mueller chided, and motioned for one of the men toward the back to move forward. "Minaev, you crack the security codes on that door." He directed the agent who didn't carry a menacing weapon, but a compact computer; its screen glinted slightly under the small emergency lights dispersed around the hall.

"Yes, sir." Minaev complied, connecting a pair of cables with the center 'mouths' of both gargoyle heads. The small device whirred as the man's fingers tapped the keys in rapid, seemingly random patterns; only seconds passed before the thick steel of the doorway receded into the wall, revealing a brilliantly-lit pathway into the inner sanctum of the building.

"We made it." Appolonia declared, leading the advance through the entrance to the labs. "I'm surprised that no one ever realized that this was a doorway to Umbrella's labs." She mused aloud, earning a disgusted glare from her team leader.

"Everyone, cut the chatter; we're not paid to wonder about how stupid these employees were. Reactivate your radios and begin the clearance of the lab." Mueller directed, snapping the now-inactive pair of night vision goggles up to his forehead. Radiant, brilliant light pervaded the sterile white corridors of the laboratory, making the implements wholly unnecessary.

"Right. Mikhail, you should come with me. Everyone else, proceed to your designated areas. Clear this laboratory as quickly as possible, and return to the entrance. Everyone, move out!" Appolonia declared, charging off down the narrow corridor with the hulking form of Mikhail in pursuit. She could hear the rapid footfalls of her fellow team members thundering behind her, and she readied her weapon as she came to the first branch. Much to her surprise, the junction of paths contained nothing but a small touchpad computer screen, displaying a compact map of the facility.

"I guess we didn't even need to memorize the map, eh, Appolonia?" Mikhail joked, turning in place to find the rest of the unit already moving toward their respective objectives.

"Yeah." She distractedly agreed, studying the three-dimensional diagram of the labyrinthine, window mazes of tunnels and halls that composed Umbrella's lab complex. "We're moving to Laboratory A4, which is straight ahead." She pointed down the corridor that spanned several hundred meters, a glimmering metal door just barely discernable in the distance.

The duo crept steadily closer to the door, their creaking footsteps and unsteady breathing the only noise in the eerie silence of the hall. Blackened windows stared blindly outwards at them; vacuous eyes that absorbed all but understood nothing. There was an absence of life, movement, and sound within the expansive passage, the slightest creak and groan of electricity arcing through the overhead lights enough to send a frigid lance of terror through their minds. This lonely, cold environment was foreign to them; the barren depths of the complex were like an unending nightmare, the pristine, sterile white walls that seemed to expand to oblivion taunting their slow progress.

At long last, and with great relief, the mismatched black shapes of Mikhail and Appolonia arrived at the looming door with 'A4' emblazoned in a retina-searing red across its width.

"Should we knock and see if anyone's home?" Mikhail finally spoke, breaking the agitating void of natural sound.

"Let's just get this over with, Comrade." Appolonia offered with a weak chuckle, pushing the switch adjacent to the thick barrier.

The entry smoothly shifted aside with a hydraulic hiss, revealing its contents. A veritable forest of glistening steel and glass lay within, the gurgling and gushing of fluids in and out of the canisters, tubes, and other vessels a striking contrast to the pervasive silence of the corridor behind them. Apprehensively entering, Appolonia was flabbergasted to see just what was within the manifold containers. Horrific, deformed creatures, suspended within strange, burbling liquids of various colors, breathed calmly; their open, dull eyes stared directly into hers, provoking an uncontrollable rise of terror inside of her body.

She was transfixed by the rows upon rows of specimens, their scaly, amphibian forms resembling gargantuan, menacing frogs; their gaping maws periodically opened, exposing profusions of jagged, brutal teeth.

"Mikhail, just what the hell are those things?" Appolonia motioned to the beasts bobbing within their watery prisons.

"I don't know, Appolonia, but I don't like this. I think this strange man that contacted both of us was right- this definitely isn't what we had expected. This definitely isn't what was promised." Mikhail couldn't restrain his curiosity, cautiously inching toward one of the specimen tanks. His eyes raked across the dozens of abominations, and he sidled up to one of the large glass and steel tubes. Experimentally tapping at the thick glass, he leapt back as the monster jerked inside, gnashing its huge, powerful jaws.

"Jesus, Mikhail, they're awake in there!" Appolonia exclaimed, waving emphatically at all of the beasts.

"Hmm." The hulking Russian approached the tank again, assessing every feature of the now-placid creature. "This thing is called a 'Tracker,' according to this label. Looks like our good friend Umbrella might have been dabbling in a bit more than biotech research. These things are bio-weapons."

"No surprise there, Mikhail. Let's just get whatever's in the vial and leave this hellhole." Appolonia stammered, the persistent, glassy stare of the manifold monsters starting to unnerve her.

"Why? Aren't they cute, Appolonia? I want to take one as a pet." Mikhail taunted, tapping the glass again; the creature predictably tried to bite rapping digit again, but ended up grasping nothing but its own life- support juices.

"Damn it, Mikhail, that's not funny. Help me search the lab." Appolonia growled, now feeling more irked than afraid.

"Sorry, mom." The man teased, before pointing toward an immense, buzzing freezer near the rear of the room. "I'd bet that the tubes are in there." He offered with a shrug before returning his attention to the 'Tracker.'

"Some help you are, Comrade," she grimaced. "You know, there is a family resemblance there; no wonder you two hit it off so well." She sneered, a snide smile cracking her still pallid features.

"Da, I can see that. He has my handsome face, huh?" Mikhail imitated the monstrosity's snarling countenance, chuckling at the eye- rolling it prompted. "At least he's not as spooky anymore, no?" He shrugged, and went back to studying the bio-weapon; it seemed to have begun assessing him, as well, as its eyes followed Mikhail's every movement.

Having given up on prodding her partner for help in scouring the giant refrigerator, Appolonia cracked it open, half-expecting another one of the creatures to pop out at her. Much to her relief, only a frigid shower of gaseous nitrogen cascaded out over her body, making her shiver. Within, a large series of the designated vials glittered chillily under the harsh gleam of the laboratory lighting.

"Mikhail," she directed, "I've found our targets. Find several secure liquid nitrogen containers for these; they'll have to be stored at a low temperature."

"Right, Appolonia. Hmm." He pondered, his dark, narrow eyes searching the lab for a suitable vessel for their cargo. He finally came upon a trio of steel cylinders grafted together, a warning prominently etched into them: 'DANGER: LOW TEMPERATURE LIQUID NITROGEN.' "Bingo," he muttered as he grasped the tarnished, slightly-dented canisters. Subserviently, he delivered the carrier to Appolonia, cracking the seal to ensure that they had been recently filled.

Clouds of frigid gas spilled from them, prompting a smile from the pair. With a sigh of relief, Appolonia set the vials into the storage solution with a pair of thick, cumbersome rubber gloves, before sealing the lid tightly; a hissing suction was their indication that they'd been successful.

"All's well that ends well, huh, Appolonia? That was too easy." Mikhail affirmed gleefully, glad to finally be free of the confines of the stifling lab. Just as they began to move toward the exit, however, a soft gurgling caught their attention. Looking back intently, Mikhail's eyes widened as the nutritive fluid in the tanks of specimens slowly drained away, and the creature began to stir in earnest, quickly starting to flail in its now-empty confines. The glass began to give way under the rapid beating of its sharp claws, and the pair sped from the lab, slamming the door tightly behind them.

"What the hell did you do, Mikhail?! Did you touch anything?!" Appolonia all but yelled, panting feverishly.

"Not a chance, Appolonia! There is no way I could have done that!" Mikhail exclaimed, gripping his rifle intently. A muted cracking, shattering, and groaning sound emanated from behind the solid metal door behind them; squeals and shrieks of the beasts within permeated the suddenly chilly atmosphere of the hall.

"Then who or what released those goddamn things?! I didn't touch a thing, Mikhail, and if you didn't." She trailed off uncertainly, her brows furrowed intently.

"In any case, let's get the hell out of here." Mikhail insisted, almost leaping into the air as a metallic, deafening screeching thundered around the corridor. Turning, the pair saw a series of metal tears forming in the heavy door, and they both took off in a desperate sprint toward the exit.

It didn't take them long, the extensive stretches of hallways winding in and out of their vision, before they arrived at the first junction. The sight that greeted them was not pleasant. Mueller stood alone, his back turned to them, as he calmly reloaded his sub-machinegun. Sporadic wisps of acrid smoke still wafted from the barrel, but he paid it not mind; he chuckled lowly, before turning to the pair. Beneath his feet lay most of their team, twisted and wrenched at odd angles as though taken by surprise; it must have been a surprise to have their commander betray them. Their blood intermingled into a spreading, dark crimson pool, soaking into Mueller's now-tarnished boots. Flesh, bone, and tissue was spattered on the otherwise pristine, whitewashed walls; blood slowly, agonizingly slid downwards, joining what had already formed.

"Mueller!" Appolonia shouted incredulously, barely comprehending the sight. "What the fuck happened here?!"

"Oh, Ms. Clemenza, so nice of you to join us." Mueller turned swiftly, leveling his weapon at Appolonia and Mikhail. "As you can see, their services are no longer necessary. You two, however, have something that I need." He motioned to the case that Appolonia held under her arm.

"Go to hell, you Nazi bastard!" She snarled furiously, holding the steel canister possessively.

"Let's make a deal. You give me the case, and I let you go free. Otherwise, Appolonia, I'll just have to put you down right now." He condescendingly sneered, his finger twitching around the trigger.

"What's gonna keep you from doing it afterwards, Adolf?" Mikhail released his rifle, letting it clatter to the ground; he secretly shifted his hands toward the combat knife that he wore on his back, hoping that Mueller would be too distracted to notice.

"Professionalism?" Mueller snickered, motioning for Appolonia to give him the case.

"Fine, we'll trust you." Out of the corner of her eye, Appolonia saw just what Mikhail had planned. She slowly lowered the small tank to the ground, and kicked it gently toward her seditious commanding officer.

"Fool." Mueller scoffed, but was cut short as Mikhail's knife, a glistening shard of lethal titanium, bit into his arm. "Argh! Goddamn you, you son of a bitch!" He cried, lifting the case and sprinting furiously around the corner; he narrowly evaded the trio of bullets fired, the lethal masses of lead clattering against the wall in a rapid series of thumps.

"Get that bastard." Mikhail lifted his rifle, preparing to charge after the bleeding man.

Nodding in agreement, Appolonia started ahead, spotting the dark flash of her fleeing commander. Firing another several shots, she continued, with Mikhail in fervent pursuit, after the traitor; a growing series of blood spatters along the otherwise pure white floor indicated his direction, and she tracked the glistening pools of red like a hound. When she reached the exit, however, there was only an ominous quiet; the blood trail continued ahead, but she could no longer hear the wounded man's desperate footfalls.

"Mikhail, come over here." She hissed intently, quietly motioning for the mammoth man to join her near the corner. She stared determinedly into the darkened opening, anxiously waiting for the nefarious clank of a grenade to signal their demise. After a rapt few moments of frightful quiet, however, she felt confident enough to move ahead. The blood trail kept moving, diminishing slowly in size, as it led up toward the elevator.

"The bastard's going to reach those choppers unless we find a faster route." Mikhail angrily roared, his booming voice echoing through the corridors; the fading sound seemed to carry forever.

"I think I know what to do, Mikhail." Appolonia grinned, reaching for her radio.

"What are you going to do?" Mikhail prodded, completely perplexed.

"Easy. We just tell the choppers not to expect any survivors." Appolonia keyed in several commands, eventually receiving the anxious reply of one of the pilots; the drone of the blades was apparent in the background.

"What is it? It's almost time to get out of here!" The pilot crowed through the connection, his voice frantic. "The storm is worsening! We won't be able to take off in a few minutes!"

"Just get out of here!" Appolonia shrieked, feigning anguish, which wasn't truly that far from her true feelings. "The entire team's dead, and we've set the demo charges! Please, just take off!"

"R-roger, Lieutenant! Are you sure you can't get out of here? We can wait a few minutes." The young pilot's voice sounded positively horrified, and Appolonia inwardly congratulated herself at how convincing she obviously had been.

"No time! Get out!" She screamed, before she cut the connection.

"Let's hope we've stranded that asshole." Mikhail declared, starting off toward the emergency elevator.

"I'm sure we have. It's not like we need to rush. Not now, anyway." They still darted off toward their destination, anxious to confront their treasonous superior.

Her blood roaring in her ears, every beat of her heart seeming to be a drawn-out, thunderous clamor, Appolonia sprinted toward the promising goal of the emergency elevator. Survival no longer her paramount interest, she slammed her elbow furiously against the activation switch; her hoarse pants blended with Mikhail's as they rested momentarily, waiting for the monotonous whine of the elevator. It didn't come soon enough, in Appolonia's view, but the dented metal doors eventually cracked apart; the dingy box's walls were stained with a fine sheen of still-wet blood, meaning that Mueller couldn't be far off from them.

Readying their weapons, they stood evenly spaced on either side of the cramped compartment, waiting to erupt from the now-ascending cube with a flurry of vengeful gunfire. Appolonia's fury mixed with the burgeoning adrenaline in her fuzzy mind, sending icy, ethereal cascades of raw power through her body; it was a bewildering sensation, as though she was drunk and completely indifferent to whatever might happen to her- just as long as she killed that bastard.

Finally, after a surprisingly short ascent, a brief 'ding' announced that they'd reached the top. As the doors separated, they were immediately met with a torrent of frigid water, and a rapid series of crackling booms; the searing, azure bolts of lightning that followed indicated that they were thunder strikes, not gunfire.

"Let's go." Appolonia stated calmly, her eyes shining with a malevolent fury behind the black balaclava that covered most of her face.

When the two emerged, however, they found their commander kneeling on the edge of the rain-flooded rooftop, cradling his still-bleeding arm. He turned slowly, his uncovered face cold and streaming with cascades of water. He held the vials of the sickly-greenish substance in his hands, staring directly into her eyes.

"Well, that was very clever, Appolonia. I'm not disappointed, but you've still failed. It's time for me to fulfill my mission, I suppose." Mueller turned, staring down at the dizzying sight of the ground thousands of feet beneath him. "At least I won't have to live through this nightmare, but I hope that you do. When this virus hits the ground, nothing will be left alive. This is Umbrella's newest creation. They call it 'Omega.'"

With that, Mueller hurled himself in a fluid, abrupt motion over the edge, flinging the vials before him. Despite the deafening dyne of the worsening storm, Appolonia thought that she heard his heinous cackling resonating through the cavernous mazes of skyscrapers.