Resident Evil:
Private Investigations
5
"Mr Redfield I presume," He stood there before me, a pistol in his hands. I stood there with my hands raised, waiting for the inevitable crack and the final amnesia, the one that wipes out all memory. It didn't come, instead this:
"Who are you?" He said. I thought, does it bloody matter, and then answered him,
"Chris McKeon, Private Detective, I understand you have papers that you stole from Ashford,"
"What?"
"The papers Redfield, then we can go, and nobody has to die," this always scares people; they think they should be making demands. My mobile rang.
"Answer it,"
"Hello,"
"I've sent a team McKeon, get out,"
"I can get the papers Ashford." This was met with a hollow laugh. "There were no papers,"
"No, Goodbye Mr. McKeon." He hung up just as they started breaking down the door, Redfield turned and I drew my pistol, the record in the distance changed to Sultans of Swing.
"Get down Redfield," He obliged and I sent three shots through door. I ran for the door and pulled it open. A man in Special Forces kit was slumped against the wall, a smear of blood above him. "Come on Redfield." I started down the hall. To be met by Redfield's friends, and another team, we ran. The fire exit was at the end of the hall, they went through it and I sent some more shots at the enemy, before going through and barring the door.
Private Investigations
5
"Mr Redfield I presume," He stood there before me, a pistol in his hands. I stood there with my hands raised, waiting for the inevitable crack and the final amnesia, the one that wipes out all memory. It didn't come, instead this:
"Who are you?" He said. I thought, does it bloody matter, and then answered him,
"Chris McKeon, Private Detective, I understand you have papers that you stole from Ashford,"
"What?"
"The papers Redfield, then we can go, and nobody has to die," this always scares people; they think they should be making demands. My mobile rang.
"Answer it,"
"Hello,"
"I've sent a team McKeon, get out,"
"I can get the papers Ashford." This was met with a hollow laugh. "There were no papers,"
"No, Goodbye Mr. McKeon." He hung up just as they started breaking down the door, Redfield turned and I drew my pistol, the record in the distance changed to Sultans of Swing.
"Get down Redfield," He obliged and I sent three shots through door. I ran for the door and pulled it open. A man in Special Forces kit was slumped against the wall, a smear of blood above him. "Come on Redfield." I started down the hall. To be met by Redfield's friends, and another team, we ran. The fire exit was at the end of the hall, they went through it and I sent some more shots at the enemy, before going through and barring the door.
