Stuff to prevent my ass from getting sued a.k.a. Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story. All Resident Evil characters are owned by Capcom, all Rainbow Six characters are owned by Tom Clancy......for now.
This story is a crossover between Resident Evil and the Rainbow Six novel and games. But you probably knew that by now.
Rated R for graphic violence, swearing and general zombiness.
Resident Evil: Shattered Rainbow
by DarkSpade
Chapter 5 - All That You Cant Leave Behind
***************************************************
Half of everything is luck.
And the other half?
Fate.
-006 to 007, Goldeneye
***************************************************
11:37a.m
Rebecca stood nervously as the elevator descended to a lower floor.
"So what exactly did you do back in....New York, did you say?" asked Peter.
"Uh..yes New York. I..uh..well.." Rebecca tried to think of something, anything.
"Oh. I understand.Confedential is it? We have had a lot of new people coming in to work on the project over the last few weeks. Especially after all the problems."
"Well, it's something like that." Rebecca played along.
"Then you must be good if they brought you all the way from New York to work on it. The board members have been going crazy trying to get it finished before the deadline. I heard that they're even holding a meeting tonight to discuss if the head researcher should be replaced to try and improve things." Peter explained.
"So, what kind of problems have there been?" asked Rebecca, trying to get more information.
"A few weeks ago two specimens escaped. Nobody was hurt but the guards killed the specimens. Apparently this caused problems with the virus or something like that. Not really my field of expertise. You'll be told all this when you report to the lab."
The elevator stopped at the 4th floor. The doors slid open and they stepped out.
"For now, let's just have lunch. The canteen is just down here" said Peter, pointing to the left. They both started walking.
"So, what exactly is your field of expertise, Mr. Deschamps?" Rebecca asked.
"Please, call me Peter. I'm involved in Public Relations for Umbrella. My job is to make Umbrella look as good as possible to the media and the public." he answered.
"So, basically you help Umbrella to cover up any mishaps that might happen. That must be a lot of work." said Rebecca.
"Yes, it can be difficult. But in the end I always get the job done." he smiled.
Rebecca smiled back feeling sickened inside. Dealing with the mansion incident had been bad enough. Waking up screaming in terror in the middle of the night, the twisted images of death that she would never forget, the feeling of complete helplessness.
That wasn't the worst thing.
The worst thing was to back from that hell and be ignored. To be ridiculed and insulted. To have people say that you were insane. To be told that zombies and monsters didn't exist and they certianly were not being made by the Umbrella Corporation.
And here was someone who's job it was to make that happen. Him, or at least someone just like him, had made sure that they looked crazy and he was standing there smiling about it.
"You must be very proud." said Rebecca, with a trace of bitterness as they walked into the canteen.
***************************************************
11:45a.m
Clark was sitting in his office going through the files of the S.T.A.R.S members when the phone on his desk rank. It was the secure line. Only a handful of people knew the number. He picked up the phone.
"Clark."
"General Clark, this is the Whitehouse. Please hold for the President." a female voice answered.
"John, how are you?" Clark heard the familiar voice of Jack Ryan after a few seconds of silence.
"I'm fine Mr. President. How are you?" Clark answered.
"John, we've known each other a long time. You know how much I hate all that "Mr. President", "yes,sir" crap." said Ryan.
"Sorry, Jack. Force of habit. I kinda know how you feel though. Things change when you're the boss." Clark replied.
"Yes they do. Anyway I didn't call so we could cry over how tough our jobs are. I assume you've heard about what happened in Paris this morning."
"Yeah, the cafe thing, we had a briefing on the situation earlier." said Clark.
"Good. It's still early morning over here so I was only informed an hour ago. I was speaking with the French ambassador and he tells me that they're starting a search for Olivera and the other S.T.A.R.S members in Paris. If the French find out where they are hiding I want to send Rainbow in to take them into custody." Ryan explained.
"I understand. I'll make sure the teams are ready to go at short notice, if necessary." said Clark.
"I want you to make sure that none of them are harmed. They may be the only people left who really know what happened in Raccoon City. And I need to know. I need to know why I had to sign the death warrants of a hundred thousand people when I ordered that nuclear strike." Ryan said softly.
"You know you had to, Jack. Whatever that disease was it would have spread eventually, even with the quarantine that was around the city."
"I know John. Still doesn't make it any easier though. I have to go. Say hi to Sandy and that grandson of yours."
"Will do, Mr. President. Goodbye." John put down the phone.
***************************************************
11.49a.m
"Wesker, I don't think this is a good idea." said Ada from the passenger seat of the car.
"I don't pay you to think, Ada. Stay in the car. This won't take long." Wesker opened the car door and stepped out.
He began walking towards the gunshop, thinking about what he was doing here, feeling the anger beginning to rise up within him again. Horizon was going to pay. As soon as he dealt with Umbrella, was going to drop in and thank them for fucking up his plans. Not only had they disbanded his team but he'd just discovered a few hours ago that all the equipment he'd be needing was confiscated. All the guns and explosives were gone. That wasn't the worst part though, The worst part was that they had even gotten the cannisters of nerve gas. It had been useful before and it would have certainly helped getting back into Umbrella's Headquarters.
Wesker began to calm down. He knew he didn't need chemical weapons, or explosives or even guns to get inside Umbrella. But there was no point in being careless. Anyway, he could get most of what he needed here.
A bell rang as he walked in the door. The shop was empty except for a short, balding man behind the counter. There were several racks behind him which were full of pump-action shotguns. There was also a wide variety of handguns inside the glass counter. The rest of the shop had various military equipment - boots, fatigues, knives among other things.
"Bonjour. Can I help you?" the shopkeeper asked in French.
"I'm looking for some weapons." said Wesker, staring at the man from behind his sunglasses.
"Ah, an American. Yes, we have a wide selection. Please take a look around." he said enthusiastically.
"No. I want to see your real stock. Not the crap you sell to civilians."
The man blinked in surprise."But, sir, this is...all my stock. I..I..don't know...what you are..." The shopkeeper could almost feel Wesker's stare burning into him. Finally he gave up. "Okay. Just give me a moment."
He walked over to the door and locked it, flipped the sign from "open" to "closed", and walked over to the counter. He pressed a button just underneath and the electronic lock on the door behind him opened. "This way, sir."
Wesker followed him through the door which led to a hallway. The door at the end of the hallway was also locked. The shopkeeper began to type a code on the keypad next to the door.
"This is a lot of security for a simple gunshop." Wesker remarked.
"It's important to be careful in this business." the man replied. "I never know what type of person is going to walk in here."
The door opened into a room roughly half the size of the shop, although it was much more impressively stocked. Various types of assault rifles, sniper rifles and sub-machineguns lined the walls. In the corner were several boxes of hand grenades and what looked to be explosives.
"So what type of weapons are you interested in Mr.....?" asked the shopkeeper.
"Wesker. I'm looking for somthing compact. It needs to be easily concealed but still be powerful enough to penetrate body armour."
"Well, Mr. Wesker, something like that can be very expensive. How are you going to be paying?"
"Cash." answered Wesker, producing a wad of €100 notes.
"That will do nicely, sir. If you need something compact with I plenty of firepower I recommend this." he said, taking a rifle from the wall. "This is a G36. Very small for a rifle but still packs a punch."
"No. It's still to big." said Wesker. "Show me that P90 over there."
The shopkeeper went over to the far side of the room and picked up the sub-machinegun. "Good choice. It may look a little strange but it's a very effective weapon. Fifty round magazine, laser sight with optional silencer."
"I'll take it." said Wesker. "I'll also take that PSG-1 sniper rifle and the C4 in the corner. It is C4 isn't it?"
"Uh...yes, that's right." the shopkeeper answered nervously.
"Good. Where are the detonators?"
"What?"
"The detonators." Wesker repeated. "Show them to me, now."
"I..I..dont really think-" he was cut of by Wesker grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air, almost crushing his windpipe.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that." said Wesker calmly. "Could you repeat it?"
"In the...safe...over there." he managed to splutter.
"The combination?" asked Wesker.
"Ten...Six...Eight...Four" he choked out.
"Thank you." said Wesker. He began to apply more pressure to the man's neck until finally he heard a snap. He released his grip and the man fell to the floor and lay motionless with a glazed, empty look in his eyes.
Wesker walked over to the small safe in the corner and entered the combination. The safe door swung open to reveal a small stack of money and the detonators. Wesker smiled, took out his phone and dialled a number.
"Ada, bring the car around to the back. I have what we need."
***************************************************
Another quick chapter. I'm on a roll.
Please review and I might get the next chapter out even quicker. ;)
This story is a crossover between Resident Evil and the Rainbow Six novel and games. But you probably knew that by now.
Rated R for graphic violence, swearing and general zombiness.
Resident Evil: Shattered Rainbow
by DarkSpade
Chapter 5 - All That You Cant Leave Behind
***************************************************
Half of everything is luck.
And the other half?
Fate.
-006 to 007, Goldeneye
***************************************************
11:37a.m
Rebecca stood nervously as the elevator descended to a lower floor.
"So what exactly did you do back in....New York, did you say?" asked Peter.
"Uh..yes New York. I..uh..well.." Rebecca tried to think of something, anything.
"Oh. I understand.Confedential is it? We have had a lot of new people coming in to work on the project over the last few weeks. Especially after all the problems."
"Well, it's something like that." Rebecca played along.
"Then you must be good if they brought you all the way from New York to work on it. The board members have been going crazy trying to get it finished before the deadline. I heard that they're even holding a meeting tonight to discuss if the head researcher should be replaced to try and improve things." Peter explained.
"So, what kind of problems have there been?" asked Rebecca, trying to get more information.
"A few weeks ago two specimens escaped. Nobody was hurt but the guards killed the specimens. Apparently this caused problems with the virus or something like that. Not really my field of expertise. You'll be told all this when you report to the lab."
The elevator stopped at the 4th floor. The doors slid open and they stepped out.
"For now, let's just have lunch. The canteen is just down here" said Peter, pointing to the left. They both started walking.
"So, what exactly is your field of expertise, Mr. Deschamps?" Rebecca asked.
"Please, call me Peter. I'm involved in Public Relations for Umbrella. My job is to make Umbrella look as good as possible to the media and the public." he answered.
"So, basically you help Umbrella to cover up any mishaps that might happen. That must be a lot of work." said Rebecca.
"Yes, it can be difficult. But in the end I always get the job done." he smiled.
Rebecca smiled back feeling sickened inside. Dealing with the mansion incident had been bad enough. Waking up screaming in terror in the middle of the night, the twisted images of death that she would never forget, the feeling of complete helplessness.
That wasn't the worst thing.
The worst thing was to back from that hell and be ignored. To be ridiculed and insulted. To have people say that you were insane. To be told that zombies and monsters didn't exist and they certianly were not being made by the Umbrella Corporation.
And here was someone who's job it was to make that happen. Him, or at least someone just like him, had made sure that they looked crazy and he was standing there smiling about it.
"You must be very proud." said Rebecca, with a trace of bitterness as they walked into the canteen.
***************************************************
11:45a.m
Clark was sitting in his office going through the files of the S.T.A.R.S members when the phone on his desk rank. It was the secure line. Only a handful of people knew the number. He picked up the phone.
"Clark."
"General Clark, this is the Whitehouse. Please hold for the President." a female voice answered.
"John, how are you?" Clark heard the familiar voice of Jack Ryan after a few seconds of silence.
"I'm fine Mr. President. How are you?" Clark answered.
"John, we've known each other a long time. You know how much I hate all that "Mr. President", "yes,sir" crap." said Ryan.
"Sorry, Jack. Force of habit. I kinda know how you feel though. Things change when you're the boss." Clark replied.
"Yes they do. Anyway I didn't call so we could cry over how tough our jobs are. I assume you've heard about what happened in Paris this morning."
"Yeah, the cafe thing, we had a briefing on the situation earlier." said Clark.
"Good. It's still early morning over here so I was only informed an hour ago. I was speaking with the French ambassador and he tells me that they're starting a search for Olivera and the other S.T.A.R.S members in Paris. If the French find out where they are hiding I want to send Rainbow in to take them into custody." Ryan explained.
"I understand. I'll make sure the teams are ready to go at short notice, if necessary." said Clark.
"I want you to make sure that none of them are harmed. They may be the only people left who really know what happened in Raccoon City. And I need to know. I need to know why I had to sign the death warrants of a hundred thousand people when I ordered that nuclear strike." Ryan said softly.
"You know you had to, Jack. Whatever that disease was it would have spread eventually, even with the quarantine that was around the city."
"I know John. Still doesn't make it any easier though. I have to go. Say hi to Sandy and that grandson of yours."
"Will do, Mr. President. Goodbye." John put down the phone.
***************************************************
11.49a.m
"Wesker, I don't think this is a good idea." said Ada from the passenger seat of the car.
"I don't pay you to think, Ada. Stay in the car. This won't take long." Wesker opened the car door and stepped out.
He began walking towards the gunshop, thinking about what he was doing here, feeling the anger beginning to rise up within him again. Horizon was going to pay. As soon as he dealt with Umbrella, was going to drop in and thank them for fucking up his plans. Not only had they disbanded his team but he'd just discovered a few hours ago that all the equipment he'd be needing was confiscated. All the guns and explosives were gone. That wasn't the worst part though, The worst part was that they had even gotten the cannisters of nerve gas. It had been useful before and it would have certainly helped getting back into Umbrella's Headquarters.
Wesker began to calm down. He knew he didn't need chemical weapons, or explosives or even guns to get inside Umbrella. But there was no point in being careless. Anyway, he could get most of what he needed here.
A bell rang as he walked in the door. The shop was empty except for a short, balding man behind the counter. There were several racks behind him which were full of pump-action shotguns. There was also a wide variety of handguns inside the glass counter. The rest of the shop had various military equipment - boots, fatigues, knives among other things.
"Bonjour. Can I help you?" the shopkeeper asked in French.
"I'm looking for some weapons." said Wesker, staring at the man from behind his sunglasses.
"Ah, an American. Yes, we have a wide selection. Please take a look around." he said enthusiastically.
"No. I want to see your real stock. Not the crap you sell to civilians."
The man blinked in surprise."But, sir, this is...all my stock. I..I..don't know...what you are..." The shopkeeper could almost feel Wesker's stare burning into him. Finally he gave up. "Okay. Just give me a moment."
He walked over to the door and locked it, flipped the sign from "open" to "closed", and walked over to the counter. He pressed a button just underneath and the electronic lock on the door behind him opened. "This way, sir."
Wesker followed him through the door which led to a hallway. The door at the end of the hallway was also locked. The shopkeeper began to type a code on the keypad next to the door.
"This is a lot of security for a simple gunshop." Wesker remarked.
"It's important to be careful in this business." the man replied. "I never know what type of person is going to walk in here."
The door opened into a room roughly half the size of the shop, although it was much more impressively stocked. Various types of assault rifles, sniper rifles and sub-machineguns lined the walls. In the corner were several boxes of hand grenades and what looked to be explosives.
"So what type of weapons are you interested in Mr.....?" asked the shopkeeper.
"Wesker. I'm looking for somthing compact. It needs to be easily concealed but still be powerful enough to penetrate body armour."
"Well, Mr. Wesker, something like that can be very expensive. How are you going to be paying?"
"Cash." answered Wesker, producing a wad of €100 notes.
"That will do nicely, sir. If you need something compact with I plenty of firepower I recommend this." he said, taking a rifle from the wall. "This is a G36. Very small for a rifle but still packs a punch."
"No. It's still to big." said Wesker. "Show me that P90 over there."
The shopkeeper went over to the far side of the room and picked up the sub-machinegun. "Good choice. It may look a little strange but it's a very effective weapon. Fifty round magazine, laser sight with optional silencer."
"I'll take it." said Wesker. "I'll also take that PSG-1 sniper rifle and the C4 in the corner. It is C4 isn't it?"
"Uh...yes, that's right." the shopkeeper answered nervously.
"Good. Where are the detonators?"
"What?"
"The detonators." Wesker repeated. "Show them to me, now."
"I..I..dont really think-" he was cut of by Wesker grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air, almost crushing his windpipe.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that." said Wesker calmly. "Could you repeat it?"
"In the...safe...over there." he managed to splutter.
"The combination?" asked Wesker.
"Ten...Six...Eight...Four" he choked out.
"Thank you." said Wesker. He began to apply more pressure to the man's neck until finally he heard a snap. He released his grip and the man fell to the floor and lay motionless with a glazed, empty look in his eyes.
Wesker walked over to the small safe in the corner and entered the combination. The safe door swung open to reveal a small stack of money and the detonators. Wesker smiled, took out his phone and dialled a number.
"Ada, bring the car around to the back. I have what we need."
***************************************************
Another quick chapter. I'm on a roll.
Please review and I might get the next chapter out even quicker. ;)