10:42 PM
Kyle rounded the corner of the arts building, clearing campus and making his way downtown. As enticing as the prospect of a Friday night at home might have been, he opted to get in a few beers at the small pub he frequented downtown, the Reading Room. Both he and Trevor had been faithful patrons at the reading room since their second year, but nearly two years later, the wait staff still didn't remember their names. As he ascended the wooden stairs at the pub's entrance, he heard the familiar contemporary jazz CD that seemed to be playing there on an endless loop. The small pub was warm, with a few antique tables and a polished wood bar. The owners had intended the pub to cater to upscale clientele, but, like most businesses in Westville, they ended up dealing primarily with students. The students who gathered here were those either stupid or pretentious enough to pay $4.50 for a pint of Guinness, or those who wanted a break from the skull-shaking bass of Westville's more popular dance clubs. Kyle hoped he was part of the later. "Eh! Kyle!" Trevor's resounding voice filled the small room. Kyle turned to face him. Trevor was already seated at a table by the window, across from Jessica, his latest doomed relationship. Kyle gave them three weeks. He smiled wryly before pulling a third seat over to the small table. "Surprised to see you this early", Trevor said, "Figured you'd be over at the center until at least 11:30". "Yeah, ends up the whole place was locked up. Fucking Umbrella, eh? I don't think anyone's going to walk off with an electron microscope." "Yeah well, at least your rats are safe. Did you e-mail Brightman? He'll probably be pissed if you aren't done on Monday." Trevor was already beginning to slur his words. "Meh" Kyle replied, "I'll probably do it tomorrow. I'm not sure what the hours are for the lab on weekends." Trevor laughed under his breath. The fact that they were likely the two best students in the department while barely putting in a few hours of work in a week was a running joke between the two. The waitress came from behind the bar to take Kyle's order. "Just a Boddington's, thanks." "Um, yeah, can I get another purple haze?" It was Jessica. Her voice had a way of grating on virtually anyone despite not being outwardly annoying. Kyle and Trevor's eyes met briefly, both shook their heads. The waitress made her way back to the bar. With Jessica discussing the finer points of what she'd learned in her art history class that day, Kyle's focus soon faded. He stared out the window at a group of girls likely making their way towards the Globe, one of the louder bars in town. Their faces were caked with make-up and they held hands, stumbling and giggling almost as one. Kyle could almost hear the resonating bass from the bar down the street. It seemed to be getting louder. Try as he might, Kyle had yet to gain an appreciation for club mixes of 50 cent and Sean Paul. Their loss, he supposed. Kyle was about to turn back to the conversation when he realized that the noise was, in fact, getting louder. The regular thumping was beginning to overpower the subdued jazz that filled the bar. It was then that he realized that it wasn't music, but the beating of a helicopter's rotor. He stared at the night sky through the window, searching for the source of the noise. "What the hell is that?" Trevor's words momentarily distracted him. "I think it's a chopper...it has to be pretty low." Kyle replied, resuming his search of the sky. "No fucking kidding", Trevor shot back, "Why are we being treated to an air show in Westville on a Friday night?" Kyle didn't answer, intensifying his search. Over the roof of the bike shop across the street, he made out the black silhouette of a Blackhawk helicopter, making its way towards campus.
10:47 PM
Shawn Green took a moment to gaze over the sleepy town as they neared their drop site. It didn't seem a bad place. The sort of town he could envision retiring to, minus the gaggles of students stumbling to and from the bar.
"I guess we can assume the locals haven't heard about the attack." Green spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of the rotors. Walter Harris answered with a minute smile and a nod.
"30 seconds!" Carlson's voice rang out over his headset. He quickly checked over his equipment, ensuring everything was secure before removing his respirator and pulling it over his head. He double checked its seals, tightening the straps at its rear.
"Green and Wong are the first two down, followed by myself and Harris" Carlson's voice again sounded over his headset, "Secure the rooftop and open the access hatch, then cover the remainder of the team as they drop. Just like training boys."
Green could picture the grin under Carlson's gas mask. The chopper slowed, coming to a hover over a large building flanked by trees and a greenhouse. The chopper's crew chief, another umbrella employee, checked the anchors for the fast rope lines, giving a thumbs-up to Carlson.
"Go! Go!" Countless hours of drill kicked in as Green grasped the deploying rope between his feet and hands, sliding rapidly towards the roof. He landed near dead center on the large, flat portion of the roof with a solid, if not graceful, thud. He quickly cleared the rope, moving towards the access hatch in the western corner of the roof. He swept the roof, rifle up and following his eyes as Wong landed, tripping slightly. "Two down, roof is secure." He heard Wong report over his headset. Green turned his attention to the keypad beside the dull steel hatch. Flipping open its cover, he quickly keyed the combination with gloved fingers. A green light blinked and the hatch opened with a gentle hiss. He stared briefly down the access hatch, little more than a meter and a half wide, metallic rungs descending downwards. The red emergency lights gave it a surreal appearance. The rest of the team dropped quickly, moving towards the hatch. Harris was the first down, and the remainder followed close behind, grunted as they descended the rungs. With Wong making his way down, Green scanned the roof a final time before lowering himself into the hatch. The sound of the chopper grew distant as it ascended and began to circle the area.
10:51 PM
Kyle had downed the better part of his pint in a few sips. He could still hear the distant sound of the chopper. Trevor noticed his friend was still staring out the window.
"Like you said, it's probably just a med-evac or something. Weird though."
"Yeah...I could have sworn it was a military helicopter." That option, Kyle thought to himself, was not particularly odd either. There was a small Air Force base about an hour out of town. Still, it remained somewhat off-putting.
"Whatta you say we had back after this one? I've got most of a quart of JD left at the house, it beats six dollar beers." Trevor proposed, "Jess, you up for going back to the apartment?"
"Sure Trev, I'm not much for this music anyway."
Kyle nodded his approval as well, taking another deep sip from his pint. A sudden sound at the glass made him nearly spill his drink. It was a freshman, known by none of them, rubbing his butt-cheeks on the window. Noticing he'd got their attention, he ran for the opposite side of the street, high-fiving a friend on the way.
"Fucking first years." Trevor said. They all nodded.
10:55 PM
Green released the last rung, his feet landing firmly on the concrete floor. The small entry way, perhaps 10 by 10, seemed even smaller when occupied by the team. A few of the members stooped down, their heads uncomfortably close to the low roof. The same red light filled the room, coming from a single caged bulb next to the dull metal security door. Displayed on the door in large white letters was "B2".
"Alright, what's going to happen is this" Carlson began, "Hamilton will open the door and we all pile in. This floor is our sole means of access and egress, so we secure this floor before moving to the lower level, which should have been sealed off like this one. Any hostiles, we drop on sight. Myers, I need you on any civilian casualties we find ASAP. If they're seriously injured, we'll drop a line and rope them up the access shaft. Keep sharp and we'll be out of here in no time."
Green couldn't see the point in Carlson repeating himself. They'd already been briefed in twice, and they were all professional soldiers. Maybe it was his way of rallying the troops, or maybe he just wanted to remind them incase they had forgotten, idiots that they were. In any case, Green focused, double checking his rifle and respirator before falling into his position.
Hamilton approached the door, the rest of the team standing a meter or so back. He keyed the combination on the recessed key pad beside the door before placing his hand on the large metal latch on the door. Over their headsets, the team heard the countdown: Five, four, three, two...
At two, Hamilton twisted the handle, and the door emitted a pneumatic hiss before swinging open. It was a full meter thick, and Hamilton grunted to move it quickly despite the mechanical assist.
One. The door was fully open. Carlson, the second man in after Casey, removed a flash-bang grenade from his tactical vest, pulling the pin and hurling it underhand though the door. The team turned away as the blinding flash and resonating boom signaled the stun grenade's explosion.
"Go! Go!" With that, the team rushed into the vast main hallway of the laboratory, weapons up and sweeping their arcs of fire. They saw no one.
"Main hall clear" Casey chirped over the radio. The team began to spread out, breaking into three smaller teams. Green was paired with Myers.
The hall was in a state of disarray. The overhead sprinklers, doubtless triggered hours before, dripped occasionally onto the white tile floor. Close to 20 feet wide and 75 feet in length, the hall really qualified as more of a large room. Documents and equipment were strewn everywhere and soaked in water. The stainless steel walls, punctuated by doors and Plexiglas viewing windows, still ran with small rivulets of water. The sterile fluorescent lighting flickered periodically.
Green knew the floor plan well: They were flanked on all sides by laboratories and a few offices. The security desk and access to the B1 floor were to their left, at the end of the hall was a larger research area with access to the B3 floor by elevator and a small stairway. He and Myers we tasked with handling casualties once the area was secure, as well as sweeping laboratories six and seven on the left side of the hall.
Myers nodded at Green and they made their way towards the door marked "Lab Six".
"Wait." Myers said, gesturing to the Plexiglas panel beside the door. It was pockmarked with bullet holes, seeming to originate from inside. Green gritted his teeth and nodded.
Grasping the door handle, Myers waited for Green to ready a flash bang. Opening the door a crack, he threw it in. Following the trademark blast, Myers threw the door open and Green rushed inside.
He quickly swept the room with his eyes. The lab, much like the hall, was a disaster. Lab equipment had been piled behind the door in a poor attempt to barricade it. The large lab benches were covered in broken glass and noxious chemicals.
"AAAAGGGHHHHH!!!" Green registered the maniacal scream instantly, spinning to face it. A figure leapt up from behind a table at the room's rear. Brandishing a pistol, the figure aimed towards the door.
The pistol did not even make it to the man's eye level before Green fired. He pulled the trigger of his rifle twice, careful to control his breath while firing. The first round ripped through the center of the man's face, spurting gore onto the wall behind him. The second round tore through the already dead man's throat, ripping nearly half his neck open. He fell to the floor, dropping his pistol with a metallic clank.
Green was already searching the room for further movement but found none. Himself and Myers moved through the rest of the room quickly.
"Ah, shit". Myers gestured towards their feet. Behind another table lay a body, blood congealed on the tile floor beneath it. The body was wearing a lab jacket and a name tag. It was a woman, probably in her late thirties. Her name tag read "Dr. Melanie Duncan". She had been shot several times, most noticeably in the torso and head.
"Fuckers." Green said, shaking his head. They approached the site where Green had dropped the gunman. Standing over his body, they paused.
He too was wearing a lab jacket. His name-tag read "Dr. Andrew Lee". The face on his security pass corresponded to the one that lay, half destroyed, in front of them. The two were silent, the only noise coming from their respirators.
Green was about to speak when a muffled scream sounded over his headset. It sounded like Wong. Green and Myers looked at each other briefly before moving towards the door. Green hit the button to activate his throat microphone.
"Carlson, it's Charlie team. What the hell was that?"
"Charlie team, Carlson. Forget Lab seven, it's clear. We're in Lab three, get your asses over here now."
11:08 PM
Kyle started to feel the characteristic warmth of alcohol though his body. They'd decided to stay at the Reading Room for one more round. His mind was wandering from the conversation at the table to his thesis, and any number of topics in between. The prospect of graduating was a daunting one, something he often mulled over in times like these. He was planning to teach English in Japan for a year, an option not as academic as his thesis advisor and family may have wanted, but his plan none the less. Originally he and Trevor were planning on traveling after Grad, but with Trevor now planning on attending Medical school the next year, it seems their plans would have to be put aside. Kyle was planning on leaving for Japan a month or so after graduation. He'd studied karate on and off since he was five and had always been fascinated with Japanese culture. After reading Shogun in his second year, he had made up his mind.
"Man, you're awfully quiet." Trevor interrupted his mental wandering.
"Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about what I'm going to have to do tomorrow." Short of an extreme hangover, Kyle didn't sleep in late on the weekends. He would probably be up around nine, and maybe take a run before going to the labs. Trevor would probably be up around three.
"Well now's the perfect time to be thinking about that. Jesus, it's Friday night. I think that seals it, we're getting wrecked tonight."
Jessica moved a little closer to Trevor, whispering something in his ear. Kyle couldn't make it out, but it was likely something about him drinking three nights this week. Kyle and a few of their shared friends had joked about staging a mock intervention for Trevor. He chuckled quietly, watching Trevor take another pull off his pint of Guinness. There was always tomorrow to do work.
11:09 PM
Green and Myers ran threw the door of Lab three, taking in the scene in front of them. The lab was laid out in much the same fashion as the one they had just been in, but slightly larger. Light came from a few overhead fixtures and from an office at the rear. On the floor sat Wong and Casey, Wong bleeding from his hand and Casey from his leg. Next to them lay the bloodied body of a researcher with a bullet hole in his head. The researcher had bloody fabric and flesh lodged in his mouth. The rest of the team stood over them.
"Myers, take care of them." Carlson barked the order. Myers already had his medkit open, removing sterile dressings.
"What happened?" Myers looked to Carlson.
"Ask them." Carlson responded. Myers looked to Wong and Casey, both breathing heavily through their respirators. Wong began.
"This guy was on the floor", he gestured towards the body, "but was still moving. He looked pretty messed up, but I figured I'd check if he was still breathing. I leaned down to check, and the fucker bit me. Right through my glove!" He showed his bloody hand to Myers, a large chunk of flesh was missing, along with a piece of his leather fast-roping gloves.
"I leapt back, and he grabbed Casey's leg and took a hunk out of him too." He nodded towards Casey who was bleeding from a wound to his calf.
"We both backed off, and he wouldn't stop crawling towards us, he looked like a fucking rabid dog." Wong's words were sharpened with pain, "Casey put one in his head, point blank." Myers was rapidly sterilizing and bandaging the wounds.
Carlson turned to Green.
"We heard shots fired from your location. I assume you encountered a hostile and didn't think to report in?" Annoyance was rife in his tone.
"I had a weapon produced, and I dropped him. It wasn't a terrorist though, it was a fucking researcher." Some measure of shame was heard in Green's voice.
"You dropped a friendly?" Carlson's eyes were bulging from behind his gas mask. Myers butted in.
"There was a weapon, I'm confident he would have fired. Researcher or not, he was a threat. I don't hear you balling out Wong and Casey right now Frank."
"Finish patching those two up." Carlson shot back, angrily, "Alright, this whole thing is SNAFU. I'm going to raise the chopper for a med evac and recommend we pull out. We aren't tasked for this shit, especially two short." Carlson paused.
"Just to confirm, we found no hostiles on this level? Not one?" The team nodded, a few ringing in with "affirmative."
"No survivors either sir" Harris addressed Carlson, "But we've still got the B3 level yet."
"The intel I received said both the hostiles and friendlies would be concentrated on this floor. B3 is secondary."
"Sir, there could still be survivors down there. If we pull out and wait for them to deploy team two-"
"I'm calling in. We'll let the higher-ups make the decision, but I say we pull out." Carlson was now beginning to regret not briefing the team in greater detail. He could tell by searching their eyes that they knew that this was not a terrorist attack. They hadn't made it to the elite units they served with for a lack of common sense. If he ordered them on, he couldn't be sure that they'd follow. At best, he could pull the team out, re-equip and re-brief and hope the team would follow him later. But right now, he thought to himself, I'm not getting killed for a paycheck. Carlson switched channels and raised the chopper.
11:15 PM
Prescott was awakened by his cell phone ringing. He had only turned in a half hour before and despised being woken up. He reached for the phone on his bedside table.
"Dr. Prescott, Sir." It was Hank Laughlin, the head of Umbrella's UMCS division.
"Yes Mr. Laughlin. I assume this is a pressing matter?"
"Yes, Sir. It pertains to the Westville Lab."
"I assumed you would handle this Mr. Laughlin. If you're calling me now for a pat on the back, you may as well hang up now. Your teams should be effective for the amount we pay them." Prescott pictured the men facing the Praetorian with a smile. He could only imagine how they managed to contain it. A good combat test, none the less.
"That's the problem Sir. The team's suffered some casualties and is requesting to be pulled out."
"But they've isolated the specimen in the sub-basement? It's in stasis?"
"Sir, they haven't even reached the second sub-basement yet. Apparently in the melee, the virus was released. An infected researcher attacked a few of the team members. They're requesting a med evac."
Prescott bit his lip. He was furious.
"Some of the team is infected, then?" Prescott asked, calmly.
"Yes, sir. Two members reported."
"You know what to do Mr. Laughlin. Prep the containment team."
11:21 PM
"Copy, we just received word from the top. Pull your team out, we'll extract you from the rooftop. Secure the exits and watch our approach."
Carlson smiled, thanking the pilot before closing the channel.
"Let's move out. Casey, Wong, can you make the climb?"
They both nodded. They were clearly in pain, but had too much pride to ask for help. They slung their weapons and rose to their feet.
The team moved back to the entrance, sealing the door behind them. As the first began to ascend the ladder, the door closed with a substantial thud.
11:21 PM
Kyle, Trevor, and Jessica slowly made their way across campus. After a few years, they had figured out the fastest route to virtually anywhere in Westville, and in this case, the fastest route to their apartment was passing through campus. They passed the large administration building, making their way to the path that passed between Memorial Hall, a small residence, and the Life Sciences center. Cutting between the two buildings cut a few minutes off their travel time, and Kyle had lived in Memorial house his first year, so it always made him a little reminiscent walking by.
"Man, look." Trevor stopped, pointing upward. The sound of a rotor was growing ever closer, the chopper's silhouette nearing the Life Sciences center. The chopper drew their attention to the rooftop, where the shapes of seven men could easily be made out, even a hundred yards away.
"What the hell are those guys doing up there?" Kyle was the first to pose the question.
Trevor and Jessica shook their heads, unknowingly. They leaned on the wall of the administration building, watching the chopper descend.
11:22 PM
Green watched the chopper approach them, beginning to circle the building. Not the most covert exfil, but either way, he thought to himself, I'll be sleeping at home tonight. He wondered what cover story the company had cooked up to explain their presence to the university administration. Roof maintenance, maybe? I wouldn't buy it, he thought, but there didn't seem to be any onlookers gathered around the building. Most of the students were probably half in the bag by now anyway.
"Alright, lower the lines." Carlson radioed the pilot. The roof would never hold the weight of the chopper, so they had to settle for being winched up from several meters above.
No answer came from the pilot.
"Repeat, lower the lines. We're ready to get the hell out of here." Carlson raised his voice over the radio.
The chopper turned to face the team side on, slowly ascending. Green was the first to realize what was happening.
"Oh shit!" Green dove forward, colliding with Myers in a desperate attempt to get him to the ground. Just then, the chopper opened up. A meter long flame spouted from the 7.62mm mini-gun on the chopper's side. The crew chief manning the gun swept it over the team, raking the roof with hundreds of rounds.
Carlson was hit first, nearly torn in half by the stream of lead showering down on them. Green didn't see the rest of the team go down, falling under Myer's body. It convulsed on top of him and he could feel the warm blood soaking into his uniform. The report of the gun went on for another second and then stopped. Green lay perfectly still, hearing the chopper circle around him.
11:23 PM
Todd Raymond's hands were shaking. He'd seen death before, even inflicted it, but this was murder. The mini-gun's mechanical whine came to a stop as the rotation of the barrel's slowed. The acrid smell of cordite filled the chopper.
"You sure you got all of them? Orders were clear on that." The pilot's voice came through his head set. The pilot had been a company man far longer than Todd. He coughed before answering.
"No movement. They're down."
"Alright, I'll relay that. We'll return to base and pick up the containment team."
"Roger." Raymond tried to control the convulsions of his hands. He felt nauseous. God help everyone left in this town, he thought, they'll be lucky to see out the night.
11:23 PM
Kyle stared at the roof in disbelief. He'd just seen seven men mowed down on a rooftop. Trevor and Jessica both gaped open-mouthed at the distant pile of bodies, wafts of smoke rising from the roof. None of them knew what to say. The chopper was now little more than a dot in the night sky. The three looked to each other, as if expecting an answer to what they'd just witnessed.
"Wait, look!" Jessica blurted out, her voice cracking. She gestured back towards the roof. One of the distant figures was rising to its feet, pushing the body atop it aside. Stumbling before fully standing, he seemed to be taking in the scene at his feet.
Kyle, Trevor and Jessica broke into a full run, headed towards the Janet Young Life Sciences Center.
Kyle rounded the corner of the arts building, clearing campus and making his way downtown. As enticing as the prospect of a Friday night at home might have been, he opted to get in a few beers at the small pub he frequented downtown, the Reading Room. Both he and Trevor had been faithful patrons at the reading room since their second year, but nearly two years later, the wait staff still didn't remember their names. As he ascended the wooden stairs at the pub's entrance, he heard the familiar contemporary jazz CD that seemed to be playing there on an endless loop. The small pub was warm, with a few antique tables and a polished wood bar. The owners had intended the pub to cater to upscale clientele, but, like most businesses in Westville, they ended up dealing primarily with students. The students who gathered here were those either stupid or pretentious enough to pay $4.50 for a pint of Guinness, or those who wanted a break from the skull-shaking bass of Westville's more popular dance clubs. Kyle hoped he was part of the later. "Eh! Kyle!" Trevor's resounding voice filled the small room. Kyle turned to face him. Trevor was already seated at a table by the window, across from Jessica, his latest doomed relationship. Kyle gave them three weeks. He smiled wryly before pulling a third seat over to the small table. "Surprised to see you this early", Trevor said, "Figured you'd be over at the center until at least 11:30". "Yeah, ends up the whole place was locked up. Fucking Umbrella, eh? I don't think anyone's going to walk off with an electron microscope." "Yeah well, at least your rats are safe. Did you e-mail Brightman? He'll probably be pissed if you aren't done on Monday." Trevor was already beginning to slur his words. "Meh" Kyle replied, "I'll probably do it tomorrow. I'm not sure what the hours are for the lab on weekends." Trevor laughed under his breath. The fact that they were likely the two best students in the department while barely putting in a few hours of work in a week was a running joke between the two. The waitress came from behind the bar to take Kyle's order. "Just a Boddington's, thanks." "Um, yeah, can I get another purple haze?" It was Jessica. Her voice had a way of grating on virtually anyone despite not being outwardly annoying. Kyle and Trevor's eyes met briefly, both shook their heads. The waitress made her way back to the bar. With Jessica discussing the finer points of what she'd learned in her art history class that day, Kyle's focus soon faded. He stared out the window at a group of girls likely making their way towards the Globe, one of the louder bars in town. Their faces were caked with make-up and they held hands, stumbling and giggling almost as one. Kyle could almost hear the resonating bass from the bar down the street. It seemed to be getting louder. Try as he might, Kyle had yet to gain an appreciation for club mixes of 50 cent and Sean Paul. Their loss, he supposed. Kyle was about to turn back to the conversation when he realized that the noise was, in fact, getting louder. The regular thumping was beginning to overpower the subdued jazz that filled the bar. It was then that he realized that it wasn't music, but the beating of a helicopter's rotor. He stared at the night sky through the window, searching for the source of the noise. "What the hell is that?" Trevor's words momentarily distracted him. "I think it's a chopper...it has to be pretty low." Kyle replied, resuming his search of the sky. "No fucking kidding", Trevor shot back, "Why are we being treated to an air show in Westville on a Friday night?" Kyle didn't answer, intensifying his search. Over the roof of the bike shop across the street, he made out the black silhouette of a Blackhawk helicopter, making its way towards campus.
10:47 PM
Shawn Green took a moment to gaze over the sleepy town as they neared their drop site. It didn't seem a bad place. The sort of town he could envision retiring to, minus the gaggles of students stumbling to and from the bar.
"I guess we can assume the locals haven't heard about the attack." Green spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of the rotors. Walter Harris answered with a minute smile and a nod.
"30 seconds!" Carlson's voice rang out over his headset. He quickly checked over his equipment, ensuring everything was secure before removing his respirator and pulling it over his head. He double checked its seals, tightening the straps at its rear.
"Green and Wong are the first two down, followed by myself and Harris" Carlson's voice again sounded over his headset, "Secure the rooftop and open the access hatch, then cover the remainder of the team as they drop. Just like training boys."
Green could picture the grin under Carlson's gas mask. The chopper slowed, coming to a hover over a large building flanked by trees and a greenhouse. The chopper's crew chief, another umbrella employee, checked the anchors for the fast rope lines, giving a thumbs-up to Carlson.
"Go! Go!" Countless hours of drill kicked in as Green grasped the deploying rope between his feet and hands, sliding rapidly towards the roof. He landed near dead center on the large, flat portion of the roof with a solid, if not graceful, thud. He quickly cleared the rope, moving towards the access hatch in the western corner of the roof. He swept the roof, rifle up and following his eyes as Wong landed, tripping slightly. "Two down, roof is secure." He heard Wong report over his headset. Green turned his attention to the keypad beside the dull steel hatch. Flipping open its cover, he quickly keyed the combination with gloved fingers. A green light blinked and the hatch opened with a gentle hiss. He stared briefly down the access hatch, little more than a meter and a half wide, metallic rungs descending downwards. The red emergency lights gave it a surreal appearance. The rest of the team dropped quickly, moving towards the hatch. Harris was the first down, and the remainder followed close behind, grunted as they descended the rungs. With Wong making his way down, Green scanned the roof a final time before lowering himself into the hatch. The sound of the chopper grew distant as it ascended and began to circle the area.
10:51 PM
Kyle had downed the better part of his pint in a few sips. He could still hear the distant sound of the chopper. Trevor noticed his friend was still staring out the window.
"Like you said, it's probably just a med-evac or something. Weird though."
"Yeah...I could have sworn it was a military helicopter." That option, Kyle thought to himself, was not particularly odd either. There was a small Air Force base about an hour out of town. Still, it remained somewhat off-putting.
"Whatta you say we had back after this one? I've got most of a quart of JD left at the house, it beats six dollar beers." Trevor proposed, "Jess, you up for going back to the apartment?"
"Sure Trev, I'm not much for this music anyway."
Kyle nodded his approval as well, taking another deep sip from his pint. A sudden sound at the glass made him nearly spill his drink. It was a freshman, known by none of them, rubbing his butt-cheeks on the window. Noticing he'd got their attention, he ran for the opposite side of the street, high-fiving a friend on the way.
"Fucking first years." Trevor said. They all nodded.
10:55 PM
Green released the last rung, his feet landing firmly on the concrete floor. The small entry way, perhaps 10 by 10, seemed even smaller when occupied by the team. A few of the members stooped down, their heads uncomfortably close to the low roof. The same red light filled the room, coming from a single caged bulb next to the dull metal security door. Displayed on the door in large white letters was "B2".
"Alright, what's going to happen is this" Carlson began, "Hamilton will open the door and we all pile in. This floor is our sole means of access and egress, so we secure this floor before moving to the lower level, which should have been sealed off like this one. Any hostiles, we drop on sight. Myers, I need you on any civilian casualties we find ASAP. If they're seriously injured, we'll drop a line and rope them up the access shaft. Keep sharp and we'll be out of here in no time."
Green couldn't see the point in Carlson repeating himself. They'd already been briefed in twice, and they were all professional soldiers. Maybe it was his way of rallying the troops, or maybe he just wanted to remind them incase they had forgotten, idiots that they were. In any case, Green focused, double checking his rifle and respirator before falling into his position.
Hamilton approached the door, the rest of the team standing a meter or so back. He keyed the combination on the recessed key pad beside the door before placing his hand on the large metal latch on the door. Over their headsets, the team heard the countdown: Five, four, three, two...
At two, Hamilton twisted the handle, and the door emitted a pneumatic hiss before swinging open. It was a full meter thick, and Hamilton grunted to move it quickly despite the mechanical assist.
One. The door was fully open. Carlson, the second man in after Casey, removed a flash-bang grenade from his tactical vest, pulling the pin and hurling it underhand though the door. The team turned away as the blinding flash and resonating boom signaled the stun grenade's explosion.
"Go! Go!" With that, the team rushed into the vast main hallway of the laboratory, weapons up and sweeping their arcs of fire. They saw no one.
"Main hall clear" Casey chirped over the radio. The team began to spread out, breaking into three smaller teams. Green was paired with Myers.
The hall was in a state of disarray. The overhead sprinklers, doubtless triggered hours before, dripped occasionally onto the white tile floor. Close to 20 feet wide and 75 feet in length, the hall really qualified as more of a large room. Documents and equipment were strewn everywhere and soaked in water. The stainless steel walls, punctuated by doors and Plexiglas viewing windows, still ran with small rivulets of water. The sterile fluorescent lighting flickered periodically.
Green knew the floor plan well: They were flanked on all sides by laboratories and a few offices. The security desk and access to the B1 floor were to their left, at the end of the hall was a larger research area with access to the B3 floor by elevator and a small stairway. He and Myers we tasked with handling casualties once the area was secure, as well as sweeping laboratories six and seven on the left side of the hall.
Myers nodded at Green and they made their way towards the door marked "Lab Six".
"Wait." Myers said, gesturing to the Plexiglas panel beside the door. It was pockmarked with bullet holes, seeming to originate from inside. Green gritted his teeth and nodded.
Grasping the door handle, Myers waited for Green to ready a flash bang. Opening the door a crack, he threw it in. Following the trademark blast, Myers threw the door open and Green rushed inside.
He quickly swept the room with his eyes. The lab, much like the hall, was a disaster. Lab equipment had been piled behind the door in a poor attempt to barricade it. The large lab benches were covered in broken glass and noxious chemicals.
"AAAAGGGHHHHH!!!" Green registered the maniacal scream instantly, spinning to face it. A figure leapt up from behind a table at the room's rear. Brandishing a pistol, the figure aimed towards the door.
The pistol did not even make it to the man's eye level before Green fired. He pulled the trigger of his rifle twice, careful to control his breath while firing. The first round ripped through the center of the man's face, spurting gore onto the wall behind him. The second round tore through the already dead man's throat, ripping nearly half his neck open. He fell to the floor, dropping his pistol with a metallic clank.
Green was already searching the room for further movement but found none. Himself and Myers moved through the rest of the room quickly.
"Ah, shit". Myers gestured towards their feet. Behind another table lay a body, blood congealed on the tile floor beneath it. The body was wearing a lab jacket and a name tag. It was a woman, probably in her late thirties. Her name tag read "Dr. Melanie Duncan". She had been shot several times, most noticeably in the torso and head.
"Fuckers." Green said, shaking his head. They approached the site where Green had dropped the gunman. Standing over his body, they paused.
He too was wearing a lab jacket. His name-tag read "Dr. Andrew Lee". The face on his security pass corresponded to the one that lay, half destroyed, in front of them. The two were silent, the only noise coming from their respirators.
Green was about to speak when a muffled scream sounded over his headset. It sounded like Wong. Green and Myers looked at each other briefly before moving towards the door. Green hit the button to activate his throat microphone.
"Carlson, it's Charlie team. What the hell was that?"
"Charlie team, Carlson. Forget Lab seven, it's clear. We're in Lab three, get your asses over here now."
11:08 PM
Kyle started to feel the characteristic warmth of alcohol though his body. They'd decided to stay at the Reading Room for one more round. His mind was wandering from the conversation at the table to his thesis, and any number of topics in between. The prospect of graduating was a daunting one, something he often mulled over in times like these. He was planning to teach English in Japan for a year, an option not as academic as his thesis advisor and family may have wanted, but his plan none the less. Originally he and Trevor were planning on traveling after Grad, but with Trevor now planning on attending Medical school the next year, it seems their plans would have to be put aside. Kyle was planning on leaving for Japan a month or so after graduation. He'd studied karate on and off since he was five and had always been fascinated with Japanese culture. After reading Shogun in his second year, he had made up his mind.
"Man, you're awfully quiet." Trevor interrupted his mental wandering.
"Yeah, yeah. Just thinking about what I'm going to have to do tomorrow." Short of an extreme hangover, Kyle didn't sleep in late on the weekends. He would probably be up around nine, and maybe take a run before going to the labs. Trevor would probably be up around three.
"Well now's the perfect time to be thinking about that. Jesus, it's Friday night. I think that seals it, we're getting wrecked tonight."
Jessica moved a little closer to Trevor, whispering something in his ear. Kyle couldn't make it out, but it was likely something about him drinking three nights this week. Kyle and a few of their shared friends had joked about staging a mock intervention for Trevor. He chuckled quietly, watching Trevor take another pull off his pint of Guinness. There was always tomorrow to do work.
11:09 PM
Green and Myers ran threw the door of Lab three, taking in the scene in front of them. The lab was laid out in much the same fashion as the one they had just been in, but slightly larger. Light came from a few overhead fixtures and from an office at the rear. On the floor sat Wong and Casey, Wong bleeding from his hand and Casey from his leg. Next to them lay the bloodied body of a researcher with a bullet hole in his head. The researcher had bloody fabric and flesh lodged in his mouth. The rest of the team stood over them.
"Myers, take care of them." Carlson barked the order. Myers already had his medkit open, removing sterile dressings.
"What happened?" Myers looked to Carlson.
"Ask them." Carlson responded. Myers looked to Wong and Casey, both breathing heavily through their respirators. Wong began.
"This guy was on the floor", he gestured towards the body, "but was still moving. He looked pretty messed up, but I figured I'd check if he was still breathing. I leaned down to check, and the fucker bit me. Right through my glove!" He showed his bloody hand to Myers, a large chunk of flesh was missing, along with a piece of his leather fast-roping gloves.
"I leapt back, and he grabbed Casey's leg and took a hunk out of him too." He nodded towards Casey who was bleeding from a wound to his calf.
"We both backed off, and he wouldn't stop crawling towards us, he looked like a fucking rabid dog." Wong's words were sharpened with pain, "Casey put one in his head, point blank." Myers was rapidly sterilizing and bandaging the wounds.
Carlson turned to Green.
"We heard shots fired from your location. I assume you encountered a hostile and didn't think to report in?" Annoyance was rife in his tone.
"I had a weapon produced, and I dropped him. It wasn't a terrorist though, it was a fucking researcher." Some measure of shame was heard in Green's voice.
"You dropped a friendly?" Carlson's eyes were bulging from behind his gas mask. Myers butted in.
"There was a weapon, I'm confident he would have fired. Researcher or not, he was a threat. I don't hear you balling out Wong and Casey right now Frank."
"Finish patching those two up." Carlson shot back, angrily, "Alright, this whole thing is SNAFU. I'm going to raise the chopper for a med evac and recommend we pull out. We aren't tasked for this shit, especially two short." Carlson paused.
"Just to confirm, we found no hostiles on this level? Not one?" The team nodded, a few ringing in with "affirmative."
"No survivors either sir" Harris addressed Carlson, "But we've still got the B3 level yet."
"The intel I received said both the hostiles and friendlies would be concentrated on this floor. B3 is secondary."
"Sir, there could still be survivors down there. If we pull out and wait for them to deploy team two-"
"I'm calling in. We'll let the higher-ups make the decision, but I say we pull out." Carlson was now beginning to regret not briefing the team in greater detail. He could tell by searching their eyes that they knew that this was not a terrorist attack. They hadn't made it to the elite units they served with for a lack of common sense. If he ordered them on, he couldn't be sure that they'd follow. At best, he could pull the team out, re-equip and re-brief and hope the team would follow him later. But right now, he thought to himself, I'm not getting killed for a paycheck. Carlson switched channels and raised the chopper.
11:15 PM
Prescott was awakened by his cell phone ringing. He had only turned in a half hour before and despised being woken up. He reached for the phone on his bedside table.
"Dr. Prescott, Sir." It was Hank Laughlin, the head of Umbrella's UMCS division.
"Yes Mr. Laughlin. I assume this is a pressing matter?"
"Yes, Sir. It pertains to the Westville Lab."
"I assumed you would handle this Mr. Laughlin. If you're calling me now for a pat on the back, you may as well hang up now. Your teams should be effective for the amount we pay them." Prescott pictured the men facing the Praetorian with a smile. He could only imagine how they managed to contain it. A good combat test, none the less.
"That's the problem Sir. The team's suffered some casualties and is requesting to be pulled out."
"But they've isolated the specimen in the sub-basement? It's in stasis?"
"Sir, they haven't even reached the second sub-basement yet. Apparently in the melee, the virus was released. An infected researcher attacked a few of the team members. They're requesting a med evac."
Prescott bit his lip. He was furious.
"Some of the team is infected, then?" Prescott asked, calmly.
"Yes, sir. Two members reported."
"You know what to do Mr. Laughlin. Prep the containment team."
11:21 PM
"Copy, we just received word from the top. Pull your team out, we'll extract you from the rooftop. Secure the exits and watch our approach."
Carlson smiled, thanking the pilot before closing the channel.
"Let's move out. Casey, Wong, can you make the climb?"
They both nodded. They were clearly in pain, but had too much pride to ask for help. They slung their weapons and rose to their feet.
The team moved back to the entrance, sealing the door behind them. As the first began to ascend the ladder, the door closed with a substantial thud.
11:21 PM
Kyle, Trevor, and Jessica slowly made their way across campus. After a few years, they had figured out the fastest route to virtually anywhere in Westville, and in this case, the fastest route to their apartment was passing through campus. They passed the large administration building, making their way to the path that passed between Memorial Hall, a small residence, and the Life Sciences center. Cutting between the two buildings cut a few minutes off their travel time, and Kyle had lived in Memorial house his first year, so it always made him a little reminiscent walking by.
"Man, look." Trevor stopped, pointing upward. The sound of a rotor was growing ever closer, the chopper's silhouette nearing the Life Sciences center. The chopper drew their attention to the rooftop, where the shapes of seven men could easily be made out, even a hundred yards away.
"What the hell are those guys doing up there?" Kyle was the first to pose the question.
Trevor and Jessica shook their heads, unknowingly. They leaned on the wall of the administration building, watching the chopper descend.
11:22 PM
Green watched the chopper approach them, beginning to circle the building. Not the most covert exfil, but either way, he thought to himself, I'll be sleeping at home tonight. He wondered what cover story the company had cooked up to explain their presence to the university administration. Roof maintenance, maybe? I wouldn't buy it, he thought, but there didn't seem to be any onlookers gathered around the building. Most of the students were probably half in the bag by now anyway.
"Alright, lower the lines." Carlson radioed the pilot. The roof would never hold the weight of the chopper, so they had to settle for being winched up from several meters above.
No answer came from the pilot.
"Repeat, lower the lines. We're ready to get the hell out of here." Carlson raised his voice over the radio.
The chopper turned to face the team side on, slowly ascending. Green was the first to realize what was happening.
"Oh shit!" Green dove forward, colliding with Myers in a desperate attempt to get him to the ground. Just then, the chopper opened up. A meter long flame spouted from the 7.62mm mini-gun on the chopper's side. The crew chief manning the gun swept it over the team, raking the roof with hundreds of rounds.
Carlson was hit first, nearly torn in half by the stream of lead showering down on them. Green didn't see the rest of the team go down, falling under Myer's body. It convulsed on top of him and he could feel the warm blood soaking into his uniform. The report of the gun went on for another second and then stopped. Green lay perfectly still, hearing the chopper circle around him.
11:23 PM
Todd Raymond's hands were shaking. He'd seen death before, even inflicted it, but this was murder. The mini-gun's mechanical whine came to a stop as the rotation of the barrel's slowed. The acrid smell of cordite filled the chopper.
"You sure you got all of them? Orders were clear on that." The pilot's voice came through his head set. The pilot had been a company man far longer than Todd. He coughed before answering.
"No movement. They're down."
"Alright, I'll relay that. We'll return to base and pick up the containment team."
"Roger." Raymond tried to control the convulsions of his hands. He felt nauseous. God help everyone left in this town, he thought, they'll be lucky to see out the night.
11:23 PM
Kyle stared at the roof in disbelief. He'd just seen seven men mowed down on a rooftop. Trevor and Jessica both gaped open-mouthed at the distant pile of bodies, wafts of smoke rising from the roof. None of them knew what to say. The chopper was now little more than a dot in the night sky. The three looked to each other, as if expecting an answer to what they'd just witnessed.
"Wait, look!" Jessica blurted out, her voice cracking. She gestured back towards the roof. One of the distant figures was rising to its feet, pushing the body atop it aside. Stumbling before fully standing, he seemed to be taking in the scene at his feet.
Kyle, Trevor and Jessica broke into a full run, headed towards the Janet Young Life Sciences Center.