Cora's biohazard suit was custom- made, but that didn't ease her fear any. It didn't even appear to be a biohazard suit as much as a carefully complied outfit to meet certain standards.
A tight fitting blue long sleeved turtle shirt, not quite a sweater, was tucked under a gray bullet proof vest with the red and white Umbrella switched above her left breast pocket.
If anything goes wrong Cora hesitated as she gave herself one check over in the mirror. Her gray baggy pants didn't whisk against each other, which was good, and her booths each had a dagger in them. Cora should be fine.
Then why did she have an impending feeling of doom in the pit of her stomach? The feeling that she was about to get in over her head? She told herself that this was fear and ignorance about what lay ahead. She was afraid that she was fail, and HCF and armed guards
Cora shook her head to clear it. She was panicking, but no doubt things would turn out for the better. Right? One thing was for sure - there was no way that Cora was chickening out. She could just imagine how everyone would taunt and point.
She headed to the launch pad. The others were all in the copter - except for Best.
Hey, Cora. You okay? Scythe asked, helping the light girl into the copter
Yeah, I'm fine. Cora lied.
You look pale.
I'm always pale. Comes from staying inside with all those scientists. Cora joked. There was a general bout of chuckles from.
Best is pathetic. Foxx said, leaning his head back against the headrest and wearing a slight sneer. Late, late, late. Why can't he just buy a watch?
Lower your standards, soldier. Scythe said, but he didn't sound like he meant it.
Sorry, sir, but I like to have anyone who's going to fighting alongside me to meet my standards.
Fair enough. Just don't let me hear you talking about Best, or we'll only catch more heat.
Yes, sir. Foxx said, looking more irritated at Best than amused at Scythe. Cora swallowed against as Best came running up.
Jonas Best, why were you late? Scythe said. He had placed a stern look upon his face. Best looked distinctly ill.
I threw up. he said. Sorry, sir.
You threw up. Scythe's face was blank.
Um, yes. I threw up. Best looked even more nervous, giving him the appearance of a man in his last stages of life. Scythe snorted as Best managed to seat himself. To Cora's disappointment, the pilot was a young man with a mop of flaming red hair rather than Hulio.
Look at Cora. Scythe said before the roar of the engines could drown him out. She's nineteen, and she has a better ethic than someone seven years older than her! Scythe gave a disgusted snort, and before Team Biohazard knew it, they were off.
There was thick ivy growing up the side of the estate.
That's the way we'll be going. Scythe nodded.
I don't like heights. squeaked Jonas Best.
Cry me a river. You're going up there anyway. Scythe pushed him. You can test it for us. If it's not deeply rooted, you'll fall and die. Fun, eh?
Reeve said. No salutes for him - him and Scythe were bros'.
Yeah, bro? Scythe asked.
When should we charge and hold any guards at bay? Reeve asked.
Whenever you can't see us anymore. Scythe said. Seeing how it was night, Cora estimated that it wouldn't take long. They would have to climb quickly. all right, Best, up you go.
With all the enthusiasm of a man on Death Row, Best took two handfuls full of ivy and hoisted himself up, catching himself from falling with a foot. Then he began to climb steadily. Despite looking like he wished that a sniper would take him off the side of the wall, he was moving quickly. A surprise, coming from Jonas.
I'll go next, sir. Cora said, uneasily pulling herself up the side of the ivy. She had gone rock climbing a few times before in Mexico, but it hadn't been quite so leafy or unstable. The plants felt delicate and glossy, like Cora's hand would slip right them off. Even the dusty dryness of a rock formation was better than this. Finally, Cora reached the top. She stooped to retie her boots and then she wiped the beading sweat on her forehead.
All right, Cora, head on in. Scythe said. Best, you cover her. If anything touches her, you won't survive her long if you could have helped her.
Stay close to me. hissed Best.
I don't need you to tell me what to do. Cora replied sarcastically. You're the Eternal Screw-up, thanks.
Best turned slightly green, and there was a look of vengefulness that Cora didn't want to consider in his eyes. Besides, the guy was a wimp. There was nothing that he could do to take her out. Cora smirked and continued on.
There was a yell, and Cora pivoted smoothly to put a bullet in the stomach of a tall man in an HCF uniform.
Captain Wesk the man's gurgle was cut off by a blast of Best's gun.
Scythe swore. He's here.
He, sir? Cora asked. If she didn't know better, she would say that this was shaping out more like a horror novel than an assassination.
Wesker. I know him by name. Look, Cora, Best If you see a tall, blond man, wearing shades run like hell and radio for back up.
Cora nodded slowly. Quite frankly, she didn't know why she was being ordered this, but she might as well remember it.
Alright. Now, let's move out. Kill the Finance Minister, and get out. Scythe moved forward. Carefully, carefully. Then he kicked open the door at the end of the hall and burst in with his gun firing. Three guards went down silently, one let out a high, strangled scream. Only one was a personal guard of the Finance Minister. Three were HCF.
This is turning into such a great day. Cora groaned. Scythe ignored her, unclipping his radio.
Scythe said simply. I've gained entry and I'm in room 3-B. Which way?
Scythe reclipped his radio and kicked open the door. There was a short hall way, the walls decorated with enough timeless pieces to make Cora feel oddly like she was in a museum.
Best suddenly burst forward, tossing a small gray cylinder into the next room. Smoke began to hiss, filling the room with a gray haze. There was only one guard, who was shot in the kneecap by Cora.
Which way? Best said. Cora didn't hear the answer - it was drowned out by the moans and shrieks of the guard.
Which way? Cora repeated the question to Best.
Best seized Cora's forearm with strength that reminded Cora disturbingly of Salven and tugged her down the left hallway. They trudged along until the air was clean of smoke. No Scythe.
The Eternal Screw-Up strikes again. Cora said to the sky.
Best said. I know a way to head off Scythe.
How the hell should I trust you?
Ada and I studied the maps until I could navigate this building in my sleep. Come on! Best tugged Cora down the hall so feriociously that she just gave up. How lost could they get, anyways?
