Genoa, Italy
0845 hours, 25/10/2004 Carlos Oliveira, Chris Redfield, Christina Tristan, Leon Kennedy and Rebecca Chambers sat around the table eating breakfast when they were joined by Claire and Jill. "Well, the two of you took your time," Chris exclaimed impatiently. "That's because Claire took so long to come," Jill said playfully, licking her lips. Leon and Carlos both looked on in delight at the simple thought. "Well, that makes the Redfield clan 100% gay then." Smirked Rebecca. Everyone at the table besides Chris seemed to enjoy the little joke. "Lets get down to business," he said seriously. With that the entire mood of the table changed, and the last smiles faded. "How did they know where you guys were? Do you have any idea?" he asked his sister. "None whatsoever, it was just lucky that I happened to be watching the IR monitors at the time, otherwise..." Claire trailed off. "How about Wesker?" suggested Rebecca. "Would he know about us?" "I doubt it, but it's a possibility." Chris conceded. But if Wesker knew where one of them was, then surely... Chris shuddered. "Was anything lost? Any important files, any surveillance photos? Any information at all?" Chris interrogated. "None that we didn't have second copies of, well anyway, we were fine, and its had not much effect on our resistance, except that we're geographically, further away from the Umbrella testing labs in Monaco. But now that we've escaped I think that security around those labs will be even higher. There are too many things to discuss, so can we leave them unturned until we have to investigate them." Chris instantly got the message, and allowed Jill and his sister to finish their bacon and egg rashers in peace.
Umbrella European zone Paramilitary training base Exact location classified, The Netherlands 0900 hours "So, STARS escaped again hey." Private Vincent Rothen sniggered in a heavily laden French accent. "Yep, the slippery little bastards got away." His superior, Corporal Steven O'Callaghan replied. "Just like those little leprechauns hey." Rothen said, taking the piss out of O'Callaghan's Irish heritage. "Little bastards always find a way to cheat you of the pot of gold, like that horror movie where he makes the pot of gold in the other dudes guts. O'Callaghan sighed. "Well, at least they don't use contraceptives as part of the alphabet and eat snails for breakfast." Rothen glared at him. He was not from French descent, but rather Burgundian. "For Christ sake, I'm not even French." "Oh god, French, Burgundian, you're all the same garlic munching, frog sucking, Pernot drinking cigar smoking mustache OCDs." O'Callaghan fired back, enjoying the look of frustration appearing on Rothens face. "And for the record, Saint Patrick shits all over Joan of Arc." "Well, for the record, Saint Patrick might have driven all the snakes out of Ireland, but Joan of Arc drove your countrymen out of France and Burgundy. So there you go." "For Christ's sake don't you ever..." O'Callaghan was cut off by one of the most vicious cuffings to the back of his head. He turned around, ready to smack the shit out of whoever had hit him one, only to find that it was his superior, one of the five commanders in Umbrella, the one and only Albert Wesker. "Come on guys, stop arguing, we all know that America dominates the entire planet, France got their asses kicked during the 40's, and that Roy Keane can't play soccer." He chipped in. "Well, to hell with the USA," Rothen fired, "you got your ass..." Wesker cut him off. "There you go, ass is American, I thought you guys said arse." With that Wesker and O'Callaghan enjoyed a laugh at the expense of Rothen and his countrymen before getting down to business. "How would the two of you like a promotion." Wesker offered them, "not to mention, a two million euro bonus for accepting it. With that, both Rothen and O'Callaghan immediately jumped to their feet. "What do we need to do sir, we'll do it!" Wesker smiled, pleased with their greed. "Good, all you need to do is to join the Giga squadron and it'll be in your boards before the end of the day, cold, hard cash, no questions asked." "Done!!!" both O'Callaghan and Rothen said at once. "Good," Wesker smiled, "very good..." not only had he found replacements for the two soldiers gone from the Marseille disaster, he had done it so quickly that the Umbrella HQ in the USA needn't even know.
Authors note Apologies for lateness, I havn't been able to get on the internet lately, hence the triple post.
0845 hours, 25/10/2004 Carlos Oliveira, Chris Redfield, Christina Tristan, Leon Kennedy and Rebecca Chambers sat around the table eating breakfast when they were joined by Claire and Jill. "Well, the two of you took your time," Chris exclaimed impatiently. "That's because Claire took so long to come," Jill said playfully, licking her lips. Leon and Carlos both looked on in delight at the simple thought. "Well, that makes the Redfield clan 100% gay then." Smirked Rebecca. Everyone at the table besides Chris seemed to enjoy the little joke. "Lets get down to business," he said seriously. With that the entire mood of the table changed, and the last smiles faded. "How did they know where you guys were? Do you have any idea?" he asked his sister. "None whatsoever, it was just lucky that I happened to be watching the IR monitors at the time, otherwise..." Claire trailed off. "How about Wesker?" suggested Rebecca. "Would he know about us?" "I doubt it, but it's a possibility." Chris conceded. But if Wesker knew where one of them was, then surely... Chris shuddered. "Was anything lost? Any important files, any surveillance photos? Any information at all?" Chris interrogated. "None that we didn't have second copies of, well anyway, we were fine, and its had not much effect on our resistance, except that we're geographically, further away from the Umbrella testing labs in Monaco. But now that we've escaped I think that security around those labs will be even higher. There are too many things to discuss, so can we leave them unturned until we have to investigate them." Chris instantly got the message, and allowed Jill and his sister to finish their bacon and egg rashers in peace.
Umbrella European zone Paramilitary training base Exact location classified, The Netherlands 0900 hours "So, STARS escaped again hey." Private Vincent Rothen sniggered in a heavily laden French accent. "Yep, the slippery little bastards got away." His superior, Corporal Steven O'Callaghan replied. "Just like those little leprechauns hey." Rothen said, taking the piss out of O'Callaghan's Irish heritage. "Little bastards always find a way to cheat you of the pot of gold, like that horror movie where he makes the pot of gold in the other dudes guts. O'Callaghan sighed. "Well, at least they don't use contraceptives as part of the alphabet and eat snails for breakfast." Rothen glared at him. He was not from French descent, but rather Burgundian. "For Christ sake, I'm not even French." "Oh god, French, Burgundian, you're all the same garlic munching, frog sucking, Pernot drinking cigar smoking mustache OCDs." O'Callaghan fired back, enjoying the look of frustration appearing on Rothens face. "And for the record, Saint Patrick shits all over Joan of Arc." "Well, for the record, Saint Patrick might have driven all the snakes out of Ireland, but Joan of Arc drove your countrymen out of France and Burgundy. So there you go." "For Christ's sake don't you ever..." O'Callaghan was cut off by one of the most vicious cuffings to the back of his head. He turned around, ready to smack the shit out of whoever had hit him one, only to find that it was his superior, one of the five commanders in Umbrella, the one and only Albert Wesker. "Come on guys, stop arguing, we all know that America dominates the entire planet, France got their asses kicked during the 40's, and that Roy Keane can't play soccer." He chipped in. "Well, to hell with the USA," Rothen fired, "you got your ass..." Wesker cut him off. "There you go, ass is American, I thought you guys said arse." With that Wesker and O'Callaghan enjoyed a laugh at the expense of Rothen and his countrymen before getting down to business. "How would the two of you like a promotion." Wesker offered them, "not to mention, a two million euro bonus for accepting it. With that, both Rothen and O'Callaghan immediately jumped to their feet. "What do we need to do sir, we'll do it!" Wesker smiled, pleased with their greed. "Good, all you need to do is to join the Giga squadron and it'll be in your boards before the end of the day, cold, hard cash, no questions asked." "Done!!!" both O'Callaghan and Rothen said at once. "Good," Wesker smiled, "very good..." not only had he found replacements for the two soldiers gone from the Marseille disaster, he had done it so quickly that the Umbrella HQ in the USA needn't even know.
Authors note Apologies for lateness, I havn't been able to get on the internet lately, hence the triple post.