I do not own Capcom or any of the characters that they have created, nor do I own the characters and storylines in S.D. Perry's Resident evil novels. This story, however, is mine.

I'm back with another installment of EndGame. I'd like to thank Linchi and buffyfan363 for the reviews, and in answer to your question, it ties in to the second novel, Caliban Cove, but not the others. That's why I've got John and David and the Umbrella inner circle in it. I think you'll all enjoy the next couple of chapters, as the survivors match their wits against Umbrella's hired guns.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 2- To Catch A Kennedy

Glancing over his shoulder, Leon Kennedy checked to see if the black-clothed soldiers were still behind him. It had been almost an hour since the first men appeared and ambushed him outside of his and Barry's apartment. This is crazy! He thought angrily. I come out to go for my morning jog and suddenly I've got a dozen men on my ass. Leon wasn't sure what he did, but he damn sure knew that he wasn't going to sit idly by and be slaughtered. They wanted Leon Kennedy, they were going to get him. Spotting a possible escape route, he ducked down a side street and pulled his H&K VP70-burst from his shoulder holster and cocked back the trigger. If there was one thing that his experiences with Umbrella taught him, it was that going anywhere without a gun and a lot of ammo was a really bad idea. He backed down the alley, hoping to find a method of escape, but his choice in alleys couldn't be worse. There were no doors, no fire escapes, and the alley itself terminated in a twelve foot tall brick wall a dozen yards behind him. Leon cursed his luck and assumed a classic shooter's stance, waiting for the first of the creeps to round the corner. His H&K was capable of full auto fire, and when five soldiers came jogging around the corner, weapons drawn, he took full advantage of it, mowing them down one by one. Their fellow soldiers were apparently too smart to fall to the same ambush, stationing themselves around the mouth of the alley.

"Shit." Leon growled to no one in particular. "This is bad." Leon knew that despite the two clips he had in his back pocket, there was no way he could defend himself from their attacks for too long.

"Give up, Kennedy! There's no chance of you escaping! We have orders to take you alive, so you won't be injured!" one officer called to him.

"Captain Young, he's already killed six men! I say we put him down." Another soldier yelled.

"When you're in command, you can think for yourself. Right now, you'll do what I say. Understood, lieutenant?" the captain replied.

"Look, I do hate to interrupt you guys, but 'he' is still here, and 'he' isn't going anywhere. So get bent!" Leon screamed between gunshots.

"The commander told us that he has to remain alive. Bring out the tranq darts." CPT Young said. The hell? Tranquilizers? Leon wondered. Great. Just what I need to make the day better. He knew that these guys had to be from Umbrella, but why they wanted him alive was a complete mystery to him. Presently, he noticed the barrel of a gun barely poking around the corner, and when the man carrying it showed his face, Leon made sure that he lost his head. When a second soldier tried to retrieve the tranq gun, Leon gave him a nine-millimeter lullaby as well. After that, Young's men fell back and began to wise up. Leon continued to trade fire with the soldiers for the better part of half an hour before he backed farther down the alley to reload. He cracked open the handgun and counted what he had. Nine bullets left. Well, they were gonna use tranq darts to begin with, so whatever they want me for isn't lethal...yet. Leon thought. So if I rush them, what's the worst they can do? He never did come up with an answer. Leon charged out of the alley, screaming like a madman. His illogical kamikaze attack caught the soldiers by surprise, and he managed to pick off four more before he felt two sharp stings in his thigh. Looking down at the darts imbedded in his leg, Leon fell to his knees, his gaze already beginning to cloud over. The last thing he saw was the butt of Young's Remington shotgun before it smashed into his face.

Barry wouldn't admit to anyone who knew him, but he was worried. Very worried, in fact. He had just finished a double-shift because Leon hadn't shown up for work, and the fact that he kept getting a busy tone whenever he called the house over the last eight hours was disconcerting, to say the least. Leon was sorely needed at HQ if they were gonna bring down Umbrella, and the rookie's disappearance was inexplicable. If Leon wasn't there and he wasn't at work, then where was he? Barry had woken up early this morning to get to work, and Leon had been up and said that he'd relieve him at three o'clock. Leon was never one to miss a day of work, even if he was deathly ill, and not being able to get in touch with him at all was making Barry extremely uncomfortable. He put his thoughts aside as he pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, killing the engine of the SUV and pocketing the keys before heading up to the third floor apartment he shared with his adopted daughter, Lucia, and Leon. Maybe she knows where Leon is. Barry mused while walking down the hallway. He stopped and regarded the front door with a curious expression. It was inconceivable that, after all he, Lucia and Leon went through that either one of them would leave the door unlocked, whether at home or not. The sixteen-year-old should have been home from school by now, sitting on the couch and drinking a soda while watching Friends instead of working on her homework. But the apartment was silent, and Barry instinctively pulled his Colt Python from his shoulder holster and carefully opened the door. The sight that greeted him inside the spacious apartment made him sick with worry. It had been trashed, with shelves knocked over, furniture broken, and shards of broken glass covering the floor. The big man quickly searched the rooms to find no trace of his partner or adopted daughter, but plenty of shell casings and an empty syringe. Barry stood in the middle of the ravaged heap he had once called his home and stared blankly at the floor, mind reeling from the fact that his good friend and little girl were gone, either taken...or worse. I knew I should have taken Lucia to Canada. She would have been safe with Kathy and the girls. Barry thought aimlessly. It was the sight of Lucia's backpack, ripped and scattered, that finally spurned him to action. He clenched his huge fists as the raging anger flowed through him. Umbrella's gonna pay. I swear it. Barry strode towards the gun safe hidden behind the fridge and began loading weapons into a duffel bag, gritting his teeth. This ain't over...

Jackson Cortlandt was standing in his office, studying the constellations in the sky. Gemini, Orion, Cancer; they had always fascinated him as an innocent child. Back before he was bogged down with life and work. Back before he became the senior head of Umbrella and one of the richest and most powerful men on the planet. Back before he became partially responsible for the deaths of thousands of people, both intentionally and passively. Cortlandt sighed, and sat down in his chair. These S.T.A.R.S. and their friends, they're making life miserable for me. They've cost the company millions, destroyed facility after facility, and been responsible for the deaths of some of the biggest names in our bio-weapons research division. William Birkin. Alexia Ashford. Vincent Goldman. Nicolas Griffith. The list goes on. It's finally time to get rid of all these meddling troublemakers. Granted, some of our top employees are on the list to be exterminated, but loose cannons like Ginovaef and mavericks like Hunk can be replaced. It's all a matter of money and politics. Soon, after they've all been disposed of, life will get back to normal, and I can finally relax. But until then...his phone rang, jarring him out of his mental wanderings, and Cortlandt sighed again before reaching over and picking it up.

"Jackson, we've got a problem." Jay's cultured voice stated over the phone. "So far, all of the facilities in the U.S. are locked down and safe, except for one. You see, we seem to have lost contact with the Redmond lab up in Vermont."

"Vermont? Are you sure?" Cortlandt inquired.

"Yeah, we have a small bio-weapon storage base up there." Reston replied. "It's gotta be Trapp and his little group."

"Call Palmer, have him scramble a security detail over there immediately." Cortlandt ordered. "This is good, it saves us the trouble of hunting them down." Just as soon as he set the phone down, it rang again. Jackson stared at it for a moment before picking it up. This time, it was CPT Young.

"Sir, we've neutralized two targets already. They should be en route to the airport to bring them to HQ as we speak."

"Very good, captain, I'm pleased with you. Tell me, how well of a fight did Mr. Kennedy put up before you brought him down?" Cortlandt asked eagerly.

"He killed nine and five more are in critical condition, sir." Young replied. "The girl didn't put up any resistance at all, though. She seemed rather, ahem, 'tranquil' at the time." The captain snickered at his little joke.

"Just make sure that Kennedy and Lucia are alive when they get here, otherwise you'll end up like your predecessor. You remember CPT Ivey, don't you?" Cortlandt replied, no trace of humor in his voice. Properly silenced, Young apologized and hung up. You give someone a little rank and some power, and suddenly he's a bloody comedian...Cortlandt thought. Oh well, good help is so hard to find these days. Yet another ring of his phone interrupted his thoughts. Who the hell is it this time?

"Jackson, it's Sidney. I can't seem to reach Trent anywhere. Where is he right now?" Cortlandt frowned. Trent should be at his private residence in New York right now, thinking of new and improved ways they could continue their benign research. Why was he unreachable?

"Try the data lab in Manhattan. He might be there." The senior member replied. "I want Trent to call me as soon as you get in touch with him." Cortlandt hung up and turned back to the window to stare at the stars.