Chapter 6
Dark Streets, Blazing Gunfire
They'd never known what'd hit them. The APC was soon flipped, the T.I.U. got out, got cracking, assault rifles and machine guns spewing lead death, the green monsters of doom taking major hits as the crimson fluid splattered from their bodies. They were quickly falling back to a point that the radar said had little-to-none of the Hunters. Hopefully their patches packed of ammo would keep them, as well as the numerous grenades they had.
They were running down Lansdale St., Chalk and Woods turning around occasionally to tose off a shockwave grenade (special issue to T.I.U.) to eradicate another four or five of what seemed like scores and scores of the creatures, continuing to sprint for the spot they'd seen. Kenji and Poschl were in the lead, their weapons (an H&K 33K for Kenji, Colt M4 for Poschl) in hands, with Blake right behind them, looking to either side to see if there was any of the things coming to sidewind them. To the left was just a fence and behind it a construction yard. To his left were more buildings, industrial-area stuff, as usual. Blake could feel the beads of sweat fall down his face from running. He was majorly out of shape in the running area. A sharpshooter with that one lacking thing. Running stamina. He clutched harder on both his sidearms, the pair of Berettas, the cold black look still not helping him face his fear.
Meanwhile, Woods finally found a chance to maybe pick off more than 5 of the bastards with his M249 FN-MiniMi (or simply "SAW"). Near an alleyway was a trashbin. Big enough and far out enough for him to hide behind. He quickly charged to his left, getting behind the trashbin in no time, as Chalk continued onwards. The fierce army of Hunters kept charging down the streets, their howls and screechings high in the air, deafening and terrifying. Woods got himself supported and lifted the barrel of the SAW. As the Hunters began to pass his view, he pulled the trigger, holding it down as a huge stream of bullet fire began to pierce through the wave of Hunters, knocking down one, as the bullets would sometimes continue on, taking two, more and more, then it was five, they kept falling, right into his trap, but didn't realize it until about 12 of them seemed to go down. Knowing he'd better get out of there soo, Woods stopped firing, having used up a good 50-70 rounds of the 100-round box, remembering he still had one shockwave grenade. He pulled it out, the cylindar design similar to flashbangs and HE grenades, but with a teal ring around the middle, Woods ripped off the pin and tosed it over the bin, but under stepped it, the thing only hitting the top of the trashbin. Rushing with lightning speed and widened eyes, Woods sprinted off, dropping his SAW and pulling out his sidearm, a Glock as with all of them except Blake; but was too late. The shockwave blew up, vaporizing the trashbin, and pushing Woods up into the air, higher and higher, and as he looked over at the construction yard, he saw one of those things, ready to leap at him, beginning to see the other faction of the creatures coming from the north side, through the yard. But that was the last thing Woods saw, as another one of the creatures leaped into him as he came down, slicing his body in two as the two parts opened up, his black uniform stained with red, his intestines falling, the group splattering on the pavement, for the hungry monsters to begin devouring, but most just continued on, going for their prey, 20 or so left at this point, joined by another 15.
Chalk turned around, seeing the horrible mass of creatures coming for them, then turned to his left (having done a 180) and saw one of them leaping right up and towards him, giving him a fatal swipe as it came down on him, slice a huge gash on his side, large enough to cut down to his intestinal tract, disemboweling him, as he fell to the side, a bleeding, twitching corpse. But not without having opened one of his HE grenades. A few moments later, as three of the hunters began gathering around to eat Chalk, KA-PHOOM! The grenade exploded, blasting shrapnel and hot flames up into the air, gibbing the three hunters into chunks that flew towards the already enraged and aggitated monsters, making them even more so, as they hurried even faster, some trying to jump in front to get at the still-running group of Martin and Gottwald who were now in the back, with Blake in the middle, blasting at the Hunters coming up the side, and the Kenji/Poschl team hurrying up, Poschl still inspecting his radar with Kenji turning back and trying to hold off any of the monsters coming for them.
Martin continued firing rapidly with his Steyr AUG, the 5.56mm rounds doing barely anything to stop them on 3-round burst mode, but the Full-Auto didn't do much help either. Frustrated, he stopped, just continuing to fire, finally taking one down with three shots to the head. Then, as another one began heading for him, he pulled the trigger again, hoping the 3-round burst mode would be enough this time as well, but all he heard was the "CLK-K!", his jaw dropping, and a group of four hunters pouncing on him, ripping him limb-from-limb, doing the game they used to play in their cells with the pigs.
Gottwald quickly sent off burst after burst of 9mm fire from his MP5, only taking down one or two of the creatures before he just growled a swear word in German, tosing his MP5 away and turning around, sprinting as fast as he could. The fastest of them all, the recon, he was. He'd be able to make it. He continued on, faster, passing Blake by on his right, soon zooming around Poschl who went by on his left, running further and further, seeing the spot they'd seen on the radar. It was an old run-down looking bar called "Jefferson and Thomason's". What irony. A bar is the haven from horror in the world. Gottwald kept running for it, but suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, spewing blood from his mouth, out onto the face of the hunter right in front of him. The cloaked MA-1400 had jammed its claw straight through Gottwald's body, him not even realizing it until he looked down at the changing colored Cloaker. Trembling lightly, but still alive, Gottwald gagged on his own blood as the Cloaker lifted him up, and then retractted its claw, letting Gottwald, skewered, fall down to the concrete ground, bleeding profusely, now dead.
Poschl looked up just in time to see the Cloaker. Then other shifts in the backround. Tons of them. Shit. He'd forgotten about them. The Cloakers also had modifiable body-heat, which would adjust to whatever room temputure they had, so as to not be picked up by IR or heat-sensors, and to avoid heat-seeking missiles. He quickly grabbed onto Kenji's arm, getting shaken up a bit by the loud HK33 fire. Kenji pulled his finger off the trigger and Poschl quickly pointed towards the bar, and the now-transforming Cloakers, which hissed and roared at the three remaining Tactial Infiltration Unit members. Kenji growled in anger. "Goddammit. Cloakers." "I forgot they'd been sent out. Spitters probably, too." Just then Blake ran into the two by accident, not paying too close attention. The three didn't care, they just looked around, seeing the group of about 40 monsters, 20 Cloakers, 20 Hunters. All closing in. They felt the sinking feeling this was now their demise, but Kenji just smirked, beginning to reload his rifle. "Let's dance."
*****
The gunfire had alertted Oliver and Jeremy who were in the Jefferson/Thomason Bar that there was something going on outside. They were, at that moment, getting themselves prepared to go out and do a scouting. The occasional explosion showed whoever was coming in, was defintly not coming in unprepared.
Oliver paced around the dark, dank bar for a small time, walking along the tiled yellow/black floors, dust crumbling from the ceiling as their watcher up top, Richard, came down the stairs, looking incredibly nervous. His dark black skin nearly blended with the dark walls behind him as Oliver stared at him. "What is it?" Richard shrugged, not really sure what it was. "Just...some guys tosing grenades, then they all kept getting killed. It was too dark to see." Jeremy rose an eyebrow. "And you got supposed 'night vision'?" "It only works without any fires or flashbangs going off!" Oliver and Jeremy exchanged glances. "Did you see ANYTHING besides those guys? Like were they not ours?" "I couldn't tell." Jeremy interjectted, "We're kind of in the outback. It may be some of Alvin's guys who were to come out here." Oliver thought, but quickly replied, "Alvin's in the john, he's not giving orders-"
Just then, another large bunch of gunfire exploded, this time closer, some shots actually being sent through the front door of the bar, causing the three to take cover behind some objects, but Richard was too slow to get behind the bar, a shot hitting him in his brain, fatal, and blasting his skull bits and what was left of his thinking part on the wall behind him, his body falling and thumping on the floor. Jeremy and Oliver were behind one of the tables, where Jeremy's FNC was laying. Quickly he reached for it as Oliver pulled out his M8000S again, checking the clip quick as another large blast of gunfire and tons of those weird things' screeching emitted. This time, it was more, gurgled, something even worse? Then the clicking of something, and a HUGE blast, which blew the front door off its hinges, pushing it through and into the bar, and smashing it against the door to the men's restroom which was next to the stairs to the second floor (and beyond, the roof). After the sound of the explosion subsided, Alvin's voice came from behind the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm IN HERE! You guys kill those monsters a little less close, okay?!" Oliver screamed back, "that wasn't us, Al! Get your stinky ass out here!"
With a grumble and a flushing of the toilet, then a few seconds wait, Alvin emerged from the bathroom, and looked down, seeing the blasted-open door in front of him, the doorway that was empty, and two soldier-types running for the door, shooting all around themselves, the horrifying screeches now loud and ear-piercing. The loud sound of a sniper rifle firing then echoed loudly, making the three exchange glances as Alvin moved over to the bar, ducking behind it as the two soldiers, followed by a third, ran inside, hiding behind the edges of the door, near the phones and pinball machines. The Cloakers screeched, and began to rush inside, smelling the air, about to gain the scent of the three soldiers when Oliver's shot rang out, blasting one hunter in front, alerting the soldiers to get the two other ones. The Japanese-looking soldier raised his rifle and fired off another three round burst into the back of the skull, blasting three messy, oozing holes out the front as the creature fell forward. Then the one with the large sniper rifle, with a hastily put-on gas mask, aimed his sniper rifle, and pulled the trigger aimlessly, but hit the third and final Cloaker, blasting a big gaping hole in the body, as the bullet whizzed on by and the edge of the table Jeremy and Oliver were hiding behind, knicking a large chunk off it. The two soldiers by the pinball machine, the masked one and the one with spikey brown hair, quickly grabbed onto the broken down machine and dragged it over to the entrance, closing off a good portion of the entrance just enough to hold back or to dismay the monsters outside. They screeched and howled in anger, but then, the bar went silent. Too silent.
The Japanese-looking soldier looked at the other two, and then around the bar, to check if anything was out of the ordinary. Nothing they could see. Then again, the eyes can be deceiving..., but he neverminded it. "Ammo check," he muttered, a shaky fear still in his voice. The masked one put his sniper rifle on the floor, the barrel sticking up, and pulled out his sidearm, the dual Berettas. He emptied the clips and reloaded quickly as the spikey brown-haired one began patting his clip pouches. "Uh, still got about 30 rounds in the rifle, and 4 clips for the Berettas," the masked one said, filtered through the mask. The spikey brown-haired one nodded, "2 more clips for the M4, usual 2 for my Glock." Just then, as the Japanese Soldier nodded, with the brown-haired soldier beginning to look at the radar, the loud ring of a cell-phone went through the room, making the three train their weapons on the area of the cell-phone, behind the bar.
Alvin perked up, and took out his cell-phone, opening it up, and bringing his ear to the receiver. "I told you never to call me hear," he whispered. The voice on the other end was cut off by gunfire, but was able to scream out, "WE'RE UNDER A-!" Which was simply before the line was cut out. We are under attack. "Oh shit," Alvin swore under his breath, just audible enough for the spikey brown-haired soldier to hear. "Who's there?" he asked.
That voice! Jeremy recognized it, thankfully. "Daniel! It's Jeremy!" He got up slow enough for the three to see him, as they looked at him getting up, with Poschl clicking on the flashlight on his Glock, shining it in Jeremy's vacinity. "Ahh! Down the headlights, man!" Kenji, relieved, exhaled. "You're the last one of the Delta team?" he asked, hoping the answer was no. But sadly, "yes, I am. Depressingly enough....I came accross some of the gangsters in this area. We're all trying to get outta here." Kenji smirked. Typical Umbrella Countermeasures Service. Mercs with heart. "Anyone else here?" Oliver raised his hand, as did Alvin, the two getting up soon after. Blake took off his mask and put his handguns back. "Ah, good. Our target." Poschl smacked Blake upside the head really quick and harshly, making the younger soldier than him get pushed forward, almost tripping. "Agh! What the fuck?!" "Dude, getting out and ALIVE is more important. They'll just think you're DEAD, sucker," Poschl replied. Kenji shook his head. "These two have been fighting since we set out," he said to the others, "have you got resources?"
Alvin nodded, smirking, beginning to move to a more comfortable spot, a seat at the bar. "Yeah, we got resources. A helluva lotta them." Jeremy snickered, "enough to start a small war, man." "Yeah, but I'd like to know if you bastards are gonna fucking kill me or not," Oliver bluntly said, changing the subject forcively. Kenji smirked again, while Blake scoffed, "well, seeing as how you swear more than I do, I think I'll let you live. I respect those kinds of people." Poschl snickered and looked at the radar again, seeing a clear reading, the fading signals of the cloakers following. "Well, good news. They're leaving." Kenji nodded, walking towards Alvin, extending his hand. "My name's Kenji. The smart-ass over there is Blake and the tech-geek is Poschl." The two soldiers nodded. Alvin nodded back, "I'm Alvin, then there's Oliver and Jeremy over there." Oliver saluted slightly while Jeremy just waved lightly with an untrusting face. "So, who's the leader now that we've combined forces?" Oliver asked, picking up his Benelli and going to rest on the stairs. Sitting down groaningly, he pulled out a cigartte and lit it up. Poschl perked up and looked at Oliver. "Hey, don't smoke those! The Spitters are attractted to tobacco smoke. They were meant for the jungle tobacco and marijuana growers!" Oliver growled, and put the but of the cig. out. "Fucking monsters. So, YOU guys are from Umbrella, huh? What's the big deal with them?"
Kenji just scoffed. "Who cares. All I know is they make organic bio-weapons to sell on the black market. No one's seen the President of the company, and we're basically the guys who do the tactical dirty work. Assasinations, terminations, rescue missions usually when the U.B.C.S. fails." Jeremy frowned. "I personally only care about getting the goddamned fuck out of here," Oliver said, "but thank you for that information. And again, who's gonna be the leader?" Kenji and Alvin exchanged looks, shrugging. "You?" Alvin nodded to Kenji, who chuckled. "Not without my brother Eito...he's somewhere out there, said he was near some dance club called the Pump Palace." Alvin's eyes widened, remembering as usual. "Hey! He may be alive. There's a tunnel system down belooooow the ground here that connects this place, the Pump Palace, and the Cleansing Room together. Wanna give it a..." then, he remembered further, " oh....I got a call...they said they were under attack, there was gunfire...was that him?" Kenji shook his head. "He's even more noble than me. He wouldn't kill in cold blood like that. But, until we meet up with him, you're still leader." Alvin nodded. "All right...what are your guys' skills? And yours?" Kenji nodded to Blake. "He's the sharpshooter, with the best accuracy I've seen. Keeping him on a rooftop is great." Then nodded to Poschl. "He's a gadget man. He can make just about anything. Make dynamite real quick. And he knows a HUGE amount about these monsters. And weird facts about animals." Poschl then commentted to Blake, "did you know that Dolphins are the only other species besides humans the fuck just for the fun of it?" Blake chuckled, "lucky dolphins."
Alvin nodded. "All right. Blake?" Blake turned to him, looking at him with that kinda smart-assed face someone with low patience gives. "Yeah?" "There's a building I want you to stay close to. The Cleansing Room. We'll drop you off there. Get up to the roof and watch out." Out from his left pocket, Alvin pulled out a cell-phone, an extra one, and tosed it at Blake, who caught it. "My number is 666-1986. Call me if you find ANYTHING. I mean anything. Even if you just see one of those things, okay?" Blake nodded, pocketing it and grabbing his sniper rifle, the great ol' Steyr Scout with blue finish. Alvin then looked at the others, "Jeremy, you keep below in the Cleansing Room to give Blake some backup, okay?" Jeremy nodded his acknowledgement. "Oliver, you and Kenji come with me." Kenji nodded, Oliver shrugging a response like "yeah, whatever." Poschl then looked around. "What about me?" he asked, a bit nervous. "I want you to drop by the Pump Palace. I'll point da way for ya. There's a computer in there. Get in and e-mail a guy named Greggory Dremor for me, would you? The account's always on." Poschl, as with the others, nodded.
"All right ramblers. Let's get ramblin'!"
Dark Streets, Blazing Gunfire
They'd never known what'd hit them. The APC was soon flipped, the T.I.U. got out, got cracking, assault rifles and machine guns spewing lead death, the green monsters of doom taking major hits as the crimson fluid splattered from their bodies. They were quickly falling back to a point that the radar said had little-to-none of the Hunters. Hopefully their patches packed of ammo would keep them, as well as the numerous grenades they had.
They were running down Lansdale St., Chalk and Woods turning around occasionally to tose off a shockwave grenade (special issue to T.I.U.) to eradicate another four or five of what seemed like scores and scores of the creatures, continuing to sprint for the spot they'd seen. Kenji and Poschl were in the lead, their weapons (an H&K 33K for Kenji, Colt M4 for Poschl) in hands, with Blake right behind them, looking to either side to see if there was any of the things coming to sidewind them. To the left was just a fence and behind it a construction yard. To his left were more buildings, industrial-area stuff, as usual. Blake could feel the beads of sweat fall down his face from running. He was majorly out of shape in the running area. A sharpshooter with that one lacking thing. Running stamina. He clutched harder on both his sidearms, the pair of Berettas, the cold black look still not helping him face his fear.
Meanwhile, Woods finally found a chance to maybe pick off more than 5 of the bastards with his M249 FN-MiniMi (or simply "SAW"). Near an alleyway was a trashbin. Big enough and far out enough for him to hide behind. He quickly charged to his left, getting behind the trashbin in no time, as Chalk continued onwards. The fierce army of Hunters kept charging down the streets, their howls and screechings high in the air, deafening and terrifying. Woods got himself supported and lifted the barrel of the SAW. As the Hunters began to pass his view, he pulled the trigger, holding it down as a huge stream of bullet fire began to pierce through the wave of Hunters, knocking down one, as the bullets would sometimes continue on, taking two, more and more, then it was five, they kept falling, right into his trap, but didn't realize it until about 12 of them seemed to go down. Knowing he'd better get out of there soo, Woods stopped firing, having used up a good 50-70 rounds of the 100-round box, remembering he still had one shockwave grenade. He pulled it out, the cylindar design similar to flashbangs and HE grenades, but with a teal ring around the middle, Woods ripped off the pin and tosed it over the bin, but under stepped it, the thing only hitting the top of the trashbin. Rushing with lightning speed and widened eyes, Woods sprinted off, dropping his SAW and pulling out his sidearm, a Glock as with all of them except Blake; but was too late. The shockwave blew up, vaporizing the trashbin, and pushing Woods up into the air, higher and higher, and as he looked over at the construction yard, he saw one of those things, ready to leap at him, beginning to see the other faction of the creatures coming from the north side, through the yard. But that was the last thing Woods saw, as another one of the creatures leaped into him as he came down, slicing his body in two as the two parts opened up, his black uniform stained with red, his intestines falling, the group splattering on the pavement, for the hungry monsters to begin devouring, but most just continued on, going for their prey, 20 or so left at this point, joined by another 15.
Chalk turned around, seeing the horrible mass of creatures coming for them, then turned to his left (having done a 180) and saw one of them leaping right up and towards him, giving him a fatal swipe as it came down on him, slice a huge gash on his side, large enough to cut down to his intestinal tract, disemboweling him, as he fell to the side, a bleeding, twitching corpse. But not without having opened one of his HE grenades. A few moments later, as three of the hunters began gathering around to eat Chalk, KA-PHOOM! The grenade exploded, blasting shrapnel and hot flames up into the air, gibbing the three hunters into chunks that flew towards the already enraged and aggitated monsters, making them even more so, as they hurried even faster, some trying to jump in front to get at the still-running group of Martin and Gottwald who were now in the back, with Blake in the middle, blasting at the Hunters coming up the side, and the Kenji/Poschl team hurrying up, Poschl still inspecting his radar with Kenji turning back and trying to hold off any of the monsters coming for them.
Martin continued firing rapidly with his Steyr AUG, the 5.56mm rounds doing barely anything to stop them on 3-round burst mode, but the Full-Auto didn't do much help either. Frustrated, he stopped, just continuing to fire, finally taking one down with three shots to the head. Then, as another one began heading for him, he pulled the trigger again, hoping the 3-round burst mode would be enough this time as well, but all he heard was the "CLK-K!", his jaw dropping, and a group of four hunters pouncing on him, ripping him limb-from-limb, doing the game they used to play in their cells with the pigs.
Gottwald quickly sent off burst after burst of 9mm fire from his MP5, only taking down one or two of the creatures before he just growled a swear word in German, tosing his MP5 away and turning around, sprinting as fast as he could. The fastest of them all, the recon, he was. He'd be able to make it. He continued on, faster, passing Blake by on his right, soon zooming around Poschl who went by on his left, running further and further, seeing the spot they'd seen on the radar. It was an old run-down looking bar called "Jefferson and Thomason's". What irony. A bar is the haven from horror in the world. Gottwald kept running for it, but suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, spewing blood from his mouth, out onto the face of the hunter right in front of him. The cloaked MA-1400 had jammed its claw straight through Gottwald's body, him not even realizing it until he looked down at the changing colored Cloaker. Trembling lightly, but still alive, Gottwald gagged on his own blood as the Cloaker lifted him up, and then retractted its claw, letting Gottwald, skewered, fall down to the concrete ground, bleeding profusely, now dead.
Poschl looked up just in time to see the Cloaker. Then other shifts in the backround. Tons of them. Shit. He'd forgotten about them. The Cloakers also had modifiable body-heat, which would adjust to whatever room temputure they had, so as to not be picked up by IR or heat-sensors, and to avoid heat-seeking missiles. He quickly grabbed onto Kenji's arm, getting shaken up a bit by the loud HK33 fire. Kenji pulled his finger off the trigger and Poschl quickly pointed towards the bar, and the now-transforming Cloakers, which hissed and roared at the three remaining Tactial Infiltration Unit members. Kenji growled in anger. "Goddammit. Cloakers." "I forgot they'd been sent out. Spitters probably, too." Just then Blake ran into the two by accident, not paying too close attention. The three didn't care, they just looked around, seeing the group of about 40 monsters, 20 Cloakers, 20 Hunters. All closing in. They felt the sinking feeling this was now their demise, but Kenji just smirked, beginning to reload his rifle. "Let's dance."
*****
The gunfire had alertted Oliver and Jeremy who were in the Jefferson/Thomason Bar that there was something going on outside. They were, at that moment, getting themselves prepared to go out and do a scouting. The occasional explosion showed whoever was coming in, was defintly not coming in unprepared.
Oliver paced around the dark, dank bar for a small time, walking along the tiled yellow/black floors, dust crumbling from the ceiling as their watcher up top, Richard, came down the stairs, looking incredibly nervous. His dark black skin nearly blended with the dark walls behind him as Oliver stared at him. "What is it?" Richard shrugged, not really sure what it was. "Just...some guys tosing grenades, then they all kept getting killed. It was too dark to see." Jeremy rose an eyebrow. "And you got supposed 'night vision'?" "It only works without any fires or flashbangs going off!" Oliver and Jeremy exchanged glances. "Did you see ANYTHING besides those guys? Like were they not ours?" "I couldn't tell." Jeremy interjectted, "We're kind of in the outback. It may be some of Alvin's guys who were to come out here." Oliver thought, but quickly replied, "Alvin's in the john, he's not giving orders-"
Just then, another large bunch of gunfire exploded, this time closer, some shots actually being sent through the front door of the bar, causing the three to take cover behind some objects, but Richard was too slow to get behind the bar, a shot hitting him in his brain, fatal, and blasting his skull bits and what was left of his thinking part on the wall behind him, his body falling and thumping on the floor. Jeremy and Oliver were behind one of the tables, where Jeremy's FNC was laying. Quickly he reached for it as Oliver pulled out his M8000S again, checking the clip quick as another large blast of gunfire and tons of those weird things' screeching emitted. This time, it was more, gurgled, something even worse? Then the clicking of something, and a HUGE blast, which blew the front door off its hinges, pushing it through and into the bar, and smashing it against the door to the men's restroom which was next to the stairs to the second floor (and beyond, the roof). After the sound of the explosion subsided, Alvin's voice came from behind the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm IN HERE! You guys kill those monsters a little less close, okay?!" Oliver screamed back, "that wasn't us, Al! Get your stinky ass out here!"
With a grumble and a flushing of the toilet, then a few seconds wait, Alvin emerged from the bathroom, and looked down, seeing the blasted-open door in front of him, the doorway that was empty, and two soldier-types running for the door, shooting all around themselves, the horrifying screeches now loud and ear-piercing. The loud sound of a sniper rifle firing then echoed loudly, making the three exchange glances as Alvin moved over to the bar, ducking behind it as the two soldiers, followed by a third, ran inside, hiding behind the edges of the door, near the phones and pinball machines. The Cloakers screeched, and began to rush inside, smelling the air, about to gain the scent of the three soldiers when Oliver's shot rang out, blasting one hunter in front, alerting the soldiers to get the two other ones. The Japanese-looking soldier raised his rifle and fired off another three round burst into the back of the skull, blasting three messy, oozing holes out the front as the creature fell forward. Then the one with the large sniper rifle, with a hastily put-on gas mask, aimed his sniper rifle, and pulled the trigger aimlessly, but hit the third and final Cloaker, blasting a big gaping hole in the body, as the bullet whizzed on by and the edge of the table Jeremy and Oliver were hiding behind, knicking a large chunk off it. The two soldiers by the pinball machine, the masked one and the one with spikey brown hair, quickly grabbed onto the broken down machine and dragged it over to the entrance, closing off a good portion of the entrance just enough to hold back or to dismay the monsters outside. They screeched and howled in anger, but then, the bar went silent. Too silent.
The Japanese-looking soldier looked at the other two, and then around the bar, to check if anything was out of the ordinary. Nothing they could see. Then again, the eyes can be deceiving..., but he neverminded it. "Ammo check," he muttered, a shaky fear still in his voice. The masked one put his sniper rifle on the floor, the barrel sticking up, and pulled out his sidearm, the dual Berettas. He emptied the clips and reloaded quickly as the spikey brown-haired one began patting his clip pouches. "Uh, still got about 30 rounds in the rifle, and 4 clips for the Berettas," the masked one said, filtered through the mask. The spikey brown-haired one nodded, "2 more clips for the M4, usual 2 for my Glock." Just then, as the Japanese Soldier nodded, with the brown-haired soldier beginning to look at the radar, the loud ring of a cell-phone went through the room, making the three train their weapons on the area of the cell-phone, behind the bar.
Alvin perked up, and took out his cell-phone, opening it up, and bringing his ear to the receiver. "I told you never to call me hear," he whispered. The voice on the other end was cut off by gunfire, but was able to scream out, "WE'RE UNDER A-!" Which was simply before the line was cut out. We are under attack. "Oh shit," Alvin swore under his breath, just audible enough for the spikey brown-haired soldier to hear. "Who's there?" he asked.
That voice! Jeremy recognized it, thankfully. "Daniel! It's Jeremy!" He got up slow enough for the three to see him, as they looked at him getting up, with Poschl clicking on the flashlight on his Glock, shining it in Jeremy's vacinity. "Ahh! Down the headlights, man!" Kenji, relieved, exhaled. "You're the last one of the Delta team?" he asked, hoping the answer was no. But sadly, "yes, I am. Depressingly enough....I came accross some of the gangsters in this area. We're all trying to get outta here." Kenji smirked. Typical Umbrella Countermeasures Service. Mercs with heart. "Anyone else here?" Oliver raised his hand, as did Alvin, the two getting up soon after. Blake took off his mask and put his handguns back. "Ah, good. Our target." Poschl smacked Blake upside the head really quick and harshly, making the younger soldier than him get pushed forward, almost tripping. "Agh! What the fuck?!" "Dude, getting out and ALIVE is more important. They'll just think you're DEAD, sucker," Poschl replied. Kenji shook his head. "These two have been fighting since we set out," he said to the others, "have you got resources?"
Alvin nodded, smirking, beginning to move to a more comfortable spot, a seat at the bar. "Yeah, we got resources. A helluva lotta them." Jeremy snickered, "enough to start a small war, man." "Yeah, but I'd like to know if you bastards are gonna fucking kill me or not," Oliver bluntly said, changing the subject forcively. Kenji smirked again, while Blake scoffed, "well, seeing as how you swear more than I do, I think I'll let you live. I respect those kinds of people." Poschl snickered and looked at the radar again, seeing a clear reading, the fading signals of the cloakers following. "Well, good news. They're leaving." Kenji nodded, walking towards Alvin, extending his hand. "My name's Kenji. The smart-ass over there is Blake and the tech-geek is Poschl." The two soldiers nodded. Alvin nodded back, "I'm Alvin, then there's Oliver and Jeremy over there." Oliver saluted slightly while Jeremy just waved lightly with an untrusting face. "So, who's the leader now that we've combined forces?" Oliver asked, picking up his Benelli and going to rest on the stairs. Sitting down groaningly, he pulled out a cigartte and lit it up. Poschl perked up and looked at Oliver. "Hey, don't smoke those! The Spitters are attractted to tobacco smoke. They were meant for the jungle tobacco and marijuana growers!" Oliver growled, and put the but of the cig. out. "Fucking monsters. So, YOU guys are from Umbrella, huh? What's the big deal with them?"
Kenji just scoffed. "Who cares. All I know is they make organic bio-weapons to sell on the black market. No one's seen the President of the company, and we're basically the guys who do the tactical dirty work. Assasinations, terminations, rescue missions usually when the U.B.C.S. fails." Jeremy frowned. "I personally only care about getting the goddamned fuck out of here," Oliver said, "but thank you for that information. And again, who's gonna be the leader?" Kenji and Alvin exchanged looks, shrugging. "You?" Alvin nodded to Kenji, who chuckled. "Not without my brother Eito...he's somewhere out there, said he was near some dance club called the Pump Palace." Alvin's eyes widened, remembering as usual. "Hey! He may be alive. There's a tunnel system down belooooow the ground here that connects this place, the Pump Palace, and the Cleansing Room together. Wanna give it a..." then, he remembered further, " oh....I got a call...they said they were under attack, there was gunfire...was that him?" Kenji shook his head. "He's even more noble than me. He wouldn't kill in cold blood like that. But, until we meet up with him, you're still leader." Alvin nodded. "All right...what are your guys' skills? And yours?" Kenji nodded to Blake. "He's the sharpshooter, with the best accuracy I've seen. Keeping him on a rooftop is great." Then nodded to Poschl. "He's a gadget man. He can make just about anything. Make dynamite real quick. And he knows a HUGE amount about these monsters. And weird facts about animals." Poschl then commentted to Blake, "did you know that Dolphins are the only other species besides humans the fuck just for the fun of it?" Blake chuckled, "lucky dolphins."
Alvin nodded. "All right. Blake?" Blake turned to him, looking at him with that kinda smart-assed face someone with low patience gives. "Yeah?" "There's a building I want you to stay close to. The Cleansing Room. We'll drop you off there. Get up to the roof and watch out." Out from his left pocket, Alvin pulled out a cell-phone, an extra one, and tosed it at Blake, who caught it. "My number is 666-1986. Call me if you find ANYTHING. I mean anything. Even if you just see one of those things, okay?" Blake nodded, pocketing it and grabbing his sniper rifle, the great ol' Steyr Scout with blue finish. Alvin then looked at the others, "Jeremy, you keep below in the Cleansing Room to give Blake some backup, okay?" Jeremy nodded his acknowledgement. "Oliver, you and Kenji come with me." Kenji nodded, Oliver shrugging a response like "yeah, whatever." Poschl then looked around. "What about me?" he asked, a bit nervous. "I want you to drop by the Pump Palace. I'll point da way for ya. There's a computer in there. Get in and e-mail a guy named Greggory Dremor for me, would you? The account's always on." Poschl, as with the others, nodded.
"All right ramblers. Let's get ramblin'!"