Five

Rebecca opened the dumbwaiter door waiting to hack at anything that moved with her meat cleaver. She found herself in another kitchen. This one had swinging doors with circular, plastic windows. She could see that there was a cafeteria in the next room through the windows. There were endless round tables with plastic chairs arranged all around them. She didn't see anything but she could hear running, roaring and screaming. That only meant that danger was lurking around any corner. Rebecca decided that she needed to find something to wear and something to defend herself. Running around in a bra and panties wasn't going to cut it. A gun would give her a little bit more security than a meat cleaver. Whichever came first, she didn't care because she needed them both.

She went into the cafeteria and nearly leapt from what little clothes she was wearing. She hadn't seen this particular creature since the underground lab in Raccoon City. They looked like—monkeys—bloodthirsty, demonic little monkeys with wicked claws and sharp teeth. She remembered Umbrella's biological number for them—Ma2. They were feasting on what was left of someone's late night snack. She had a feeling that her fleshy legs would taste a whole lot better than cold tuna fish. She saw that there were two doors out, one to the left and one to the right. The one to the left was open and led to an open corridor. From there, she could hear screaming—bad idea. The other door was closed and there was no way that Rebecca would be able to tell if the door was locked.

She was feeling frisky so she decided to bolt for the door that was closed. With one step she heard the high-pitched squeal of the Ma2 behind her. It had noticed her right off. There were only three of them. If she'd had so much as a peashooter she'd try her luck trying to kill the things but a meat cleaver was too close for comfort. She wanted the things dead away from her. They started to pursue her in leaps and bounds. She reached the door and nearly stopped to thank God that it opened. She closed the door behind her and heard horrible scraping as the creatures tried to get to her. She spun and decided that she needed to keep moving. She looked and saw that she was in what looked like a business office. There were cubicles to her left and right. They were all equipped with a file cabinet, a desk, and phone and a PC.

Lovely! I'm in Umbrella's administration office!

She saw something hanging on the wall that was of a little bit more interest to her. It was a map of the entire floor that she was on. It was in a big, poster-size, glass frame. Rebecca inwardly shrugged and pulled the frame off the wall. Then she smashed it against the nearest cubicle to her. Glass went everywhere.

Rebecca you dumbass!

Broken glass and bare feet were not a great mix. She tugged the map of the floor out and carefully stepped away from the glass. She was successful in not cutting her feet on the debris underfoot. She began to study the map. She was, for the first time, thankful to Umbrella for taking all the time to beautifully label and color code every part their maps so that finding things would be amazingly easy. She looked and found the part of the map that said Women's Dorm. With all of the bright yet naïve young women out there enticed by Umbrella's lies there just had to be one that was her size.

Time for some breaking and entering.

She turned to the left hallway and continued past the cubicles and computers. The hallway T-ed and she took a right. She began to think about why the lab would have to have a dorm. It clicked in her head all of a sudden. These people probably didn't have a lot of time at home. Some of them probably lived right there on the complex. Wouldn't those people just be utterly consumed by their work? Maybe those were the kind of people that Umbrella was looking for: workaholics. Maybe they were prisoners here, just like Rebecca.

Maybe you should be worried about the task at hand, remember: STAYING ALIVE!

She continued across the catwalk that led to the Women's Dorm. The catwalk was glass and metal with a carpeted floor. There were little glass windows on the floor so that one could see down to the ground below. It reminded her of going to the St. Louis Science Center when she was a little girl. They had windows like that across their catwalk. With a flash of lightning Rebecca thought she could see a figure out in the rain. In an instant it was dark again and she continued on.

There was a sliding-glass security door and a little security station to the right. To the left was a fingerprint scanner. It didn't look like security would be an issue because the glass door was wide-open. Rebecca continued through the door and noticed that the lights were all down on this part of the building. She couldn't see where she was going. She'd have to find a way to turn one the lights. She went back to the security station. It was just a three-foot-by-five-foot box with a control panel in front of it and a small locker in the back. She eyed the panel and found it was all in French.

Just my luck.

She started pushing buttons at random. She pushed a little yellow button surrounded by several others and hallway lights lit up. She pressed the remaining yellow buttons and the entire wing was lit under florescent light. She was just getting ready to leave when she decided to check the locker behind her. She opened to see an Umbrella security uniform that she could tell wouldn't fit her. They obviously had put a very roomy woman at this security station. What was to infinitely more significant interest to Rebecca was the very nice SOCOM combat pistol at the bottom of the locker. There were three magazines and two boxes of bullets to go with it.

Score.

The .45 caliber pistol was a little bit bigger than her usual nine-millimeter choice. She wasn't exactly complaining. She'd used a gun like the SOCOM before. She started loading bullets into the magazine. Each mag held twelve rounds and she could hold thirteen if she chambered one before inserting the clip. After loading all three mags she put a round into the chamber and inserted the clip. She looked around for a place to put the mags. She sighed and put them into the elastic band of her underwear. It was a poor place to put them but it would have to do. She looked down at the locker again and smiled. There was a laser sight fitting that would go on the bottom of her gun. She'd have dead-on accuracy with that. She picked it up and fitted it on the gun. There was also a silencer that could be screwed onto the end of the barrel.

She wasn't exactly on a covert operation, but it couldn't hurt to keep her gunshots on a low profile. She screwed the silencer on and was ready for action. She stood and looked in the little mirror on the wall. She smiled again. If she were wearing black, leather underwear instead of the white, cotton ones she'd be Pamela Anderson from Barb Wire—without the boobs—and the blonde—and the build—without everything. Yeah, she looked nothing like that, she decided again. Either way, it was time to find some clothes, find her comrades, and finally a way out.

Coming out of the rain was only a little refreshing. David was soaked head to toe, with every hair on his body plastered to his frame. With the white, cotton boxers you could see right through to his skin underneath, giving a peepshow to everything he had. He'd even looked up at the catwalk as he ran underneath it to make sure no one could see him running around in his skin. He was in an armory or weapon depot. He couldn't have asked for anything more as far as weapons went, but what would he do for clothes? There were no windows in the building and its hallways were to narrow for comfort. How did they haul out weapons from this building?

He went into the door nearest to him and found guns and ammo galore. They were all behind metal cages that were not controlled by the Umbrella security system. David had been thinking as he'd been running through the rain in his underwear. There had to be some mistake in the security system to make everything go haywire. Umbrella had to have taken all of the necessary precautions to prevent that from happening. So, what had happened? What if it was sabotage? What if someone within the company was bringing this lab down for their own personal reasons? It didn't make sense but that was only because there were still so many holes to fill. David found a SOCOM pistol in a drawer but all of the ammo, save for the magazine that was already inserted, was locked away.

It's a good start and better than nothing.

David would trade just about anything for a rocket launcher. He smiled and waved the thought. He moved on to the next room and nearly leapt from the skivvies he was wearing. There were combat garb on hangers and on display. They had everything that he could hope for: boots, cargo blacks, twin pistol holster straps, 16 channel communication earpieces. It was a gold mine in a place like this. There were also mirrors all over the room so he had to watch himself get dressed. He found his sizes in the cargos, the boots, the black shirts, the combat vests, pick himself up a twin pistol holster strap and began to soot up. They even had black socks and black boxers to go with all of it.

Article by article David pulled the clothing upon him. He equipped everything in its proper place and took a good look in the mirror. His hair was still plastered to his forehead. He ran his fingers through it quickly, shaking as much of the water as he could from it. Now he was dressed, he had to find himself some weapons besides the SOCOM. He either needed some wire cutters to get past the cages or the keys to unlock them. Both cases required him to start looking.

He walked around to the other part of the rectangular building. All of the doors were unlocked but some of them were closed. This made David think that someone had been there before him. He smiled when he saw what looked like a checking station. There was a counter and a door that lead back to the room with all of the weapons. David picked up the paper on the counter. He scrolled down and found all of the names in French—not his forte. He went behind the swinging door that led to the back of the counter. There were miscellaneous boxes of ammo all over the place. He picked them up to discover that there were still full with bullets. There were even some bullets for his .45 pistol but it didn't help him any if he didn't have some spare magazines to put the bullets into.

Hanging on the wall was a small ring of keys—exactly what David was looking for. He pulled them off and examined them briefly. There were no labels of any kind on the six keys. He'd just have to try one until it worked. None of the keys opened the door that lead back into the equipment room, which seemed really peculiar to David. He had to take the long way back around—no big deal.

He strutted out of the room he was in as if he owned the place, took a right and continued towards the equipment room he'd come from. As he was walking he heard footsteps that were not his own. He spun to discover on of Umbrella's creatures lurking behind him. David knew what it was from pictures Trent had given him.

Hunter. Shit.

He didn't know if his .45 would be enough to down the creature. They stared eye to eye at each other—glaring for an eternity that lasted only a few seconds before the creature charged. It was an amphibious blur as it darted, faster than quicksilver. Fortunately for David, he was one step ahead. He poised his pistol, took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet was a perfect hit the creature's eye. Instead of continuing its charge it clasped it eye and screamed with an unrealistically loud pitch. It tilted its ugly head back and exposed its other eye. David seized this opportunity to put another bullet it the creature's undamaged eye. In a cherry-red explosion the second eye was obliterated.

David was so tempted to finish the creature off with a third pistol round, but bullets were invaluable in a situation like this. The creature bled and flopped around hideously on the floor. It didn't pose too much of a threat blind. It was unusual for the creature to recoil from pain. David wasn't much of a biologist but Rebecca could always put things into terms that he could understand. From what he gathered, Umbrella genetically altered their B.O.W.s to be immune to pain. This creature was very easily immobilized by just one bullet from David's gun.

Maybe their engineering wasn't completed yet. That had to be the reason. That would just mean that they'd be easier to kill.

No complaints from me.

David continued around the hall allowing the creature to scream, cry and hold it's blind, bleeding eyes. He had no heart for a creature created only to kill. Going back into the room with the keys to gain access to the weapons was sublime. David couldn't fight the urge to grin, as he pulled down a high-powered, fully automatic, assault rifle. He felt a wave of adrenaline as he loaded the .223s into the magazines. He completely ditched his SOCOM pistol and grabbed twin Colt pistols. They only held ten rounds in the magazine each, but they were much lighter and easier to manage. He was still able to maintain the stopping power of the .45 caliber too.

John…

He remembered his friend. He'd had to bring John to this place. He couldn't carry all of the gear and artillery to him. David decided it was time to trek back into the main lab, where all hell had broken loose, and retrieve his partner. He wielded a single Colt pistol and chambered a round. It was time to go.

Derek was in a rush. He'd taken some stairs down to the ground floor to find an exit out of the lab. There were still a few people trying to escape the hellish monsters feasting on them; it was futile. Without a gun to defend themselves with, they were no match for the genetically engineered beasts.

Derek was in a different position. He did have a gun to defend himself. He knew how to use it too. One of the creatures advanced towards him. He didn't hesitate to hold the trigger on his rifle down as he took aim at its face. With a loud series of booms the face obliterated in an explosion of blood, tissue and bullets the creature hit the floor. Another attacked Derek from his left flank. Derek retaliated with the same prejudice as he did the first.

Derek decided it was time to quit playing Rambo and only use the guns if need be. It wasn't as if his ammo supply was unlimited. Derek ran past the security checks, which were unmanned. He continued towards the huge, steel sliding door. He got to the control panel and pushed the only button that was there.

"I'm sorry. This door is temporarily closed due to complications in the complex. Please try again later," came a voice from the small speaker.

NO!

Derek turned and realized that he was a corner, backed up against a door that wouldn't open. There were creatures sprinting towards him. These creatures hunted in groups, Derek noted. One of them looked as if it would be dangerous in itself with its huge muscles, claws and teeth to boot. He was in a corner and had no option but to stand and fight. Derek was ready.

Taking careful aim at the creature to on his left, squeezed the trigger, and felt the butt of the gun kick his shoulder. He counted seven rounds escape the barrel before Derek released. The spray was not as accurate as he had hoped. A couple of the rounds had gone completely over the target's head. The last few had splayed open the top of the creature's skull, exposing a gory display of a brain. The creature seemed to still be kicking, but in agonizing pain. Derek aimed for the middle creature and squeezed the trigger again. He held down the trigger for a much longer time, sending a spray of deadly rounds piercing his target's chest and belly. A spray of hot brass also floated out of the rifle and clattered to the floor. This one didn't cry out but merely hit the floor and flopped around like fish out of water.

The third creature was getting a little too close for comfort. Derek poised himself and squeezed the trigger one more time.

Budda-budda-click.

The magazine had run dry. Derek knew that at the speed the creature was moving he would not have time needed to eject the magazine, fish for another, load it into the gun, chamber a round, take aim and begin firing again. Derek tossed the rifle to the ground and withdrew his pistol from his pocket. He fired a round just as the creature leapt into the air towards Derek. The round harmlessly hit the drywall in front of him. Derek saw the creature coming at an unimaginable speed. With catlike reflex, Derek dove down and forward. He twisted his body and rolled so that he turned to see the creature. With its back turned, it was vulnerable. Derek aimed at its high back and squeezed the trigger twice.

BAM! BAM!

The first bullet went a little lower and to the left of what Derek was aiming for. The second round hit dead on to what Derek had hoped to hit. There was bony knob on the back of the monster's head that was unmistakably its spine. Only the bullet had enough power to break the bone and sever the nerves and tissue that connected the cerebellum to the spine—an instant kill.

Derek had no time to dawdle, he initially decided to circle back and go the way he had come. He looked, and to his horror, saw an unimaginable onslaught of creatures enjoying their meals, eating as if they'd never before. Suddenly, a closed door opened. There was a woman with short, spiky, blonde hair dressed in a professional business suit.

"Come here! Over here! Hurry!" Derek didn't have time to ask questions. As the creatures moved towards him in hopes of fresh blood, he snatched up his rifle and bolted for the door. He was able to make it just in time. They were screeching, screaming and pounding on the door still desperately trying to obtain their meal. Even with the thick steel between him and the creatures, Derek was not comfortable.

"Are you alright?" the woman spoke with a Russian accent. It was really thick but her English was understandable.

"Fine. We need to get out of here," Derek said.

"The door is strong enough to hold them," she said plainly.

"No, I mean out of here. We need to get out of this place. What is this place?" Derek asked. He realized that he was probably talking to someone employed by Umbrella.

"This is an Umbrella medical lab, technology lab, prison and military training facility," she said.

"Is it an island?"

"Yes. The whole thing is called Torel," she said.

"You guys fit all that onto one island?"

"It's a large island."

"Apparently. So what's your story?" Derek asked.

"My story? I don't understand what you mean," she didn't understand the expression.

"Do you work for Umbrella?"

"Yes?"

"What do you do?"

"Computer programming."

"That's right up my ally. Do you know where there is a computer that I can use?" Derek asked.

"Yes. It won't do you any good. They've completely sealed the complex off. There is no outside contact. I tried to use the radio but they have apparently dismantled the communications tower as well," she explained.

Derek didn't realize that he was following this woman to an unknown destination.

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to get out of here," she said.

"You know how?"

"Yes. There are several ways off of the island. There are helicopters on the roof of the military complex, motorboats at the dock and submersibles underground," she explained.

"Okay, which way are we taking?"

"I don't know how to fly a helicopter or operate a submersible but I can drive a motorboat," she said. Derek noticed that she didn't bother to ask him if he knew how to pilot a helicopter or a submersible. He guessed not many seventeen year-olds would.

She reached a door and tried to open it. She pulled out a security card and swiped it through the magnetic receiver.

"Access denied," a little voice from the wall said.

The woman cursed in Russian. Derek couldn't say for certain that it was a curse word but it didn't sound too pleasant.

She tried again to no avail. If they were unable to get through this door they would have to try their luck going back the way that they'd come in. That didn't look very appealing either.

"What do we do now?" Derek felt really dumb and helpless now.

"We'll have to wait," she said.

"For what?"

"There was a complete lockdown done on the complex. After that, all of the B.O.W.s were released—and hell with them. Some one has completely changed the security system because this card will not read," the woman explained.

"I think that I understand. Is there any other way?" Derek looked around dumbly. There were certainly no other doors.

"No, only two doors. We can either wait and hope the security system resets itself or go back the way we came. Derek looked around one more time. They were in a very small room—about an eight by ten. There were still bangs and scrapes coming from the innumerable hungry creatures outside. If the card key wouldn't let them in they were stuck—unless…

"Hold on a sec," Derek said going over to a vent to investigate. If they were able to get the vent cover itself off then there was no reason why one or both of them couldn't crawl through. He bent down and took a closer look. The vent cover wasn't even held on by nails. Derek began to pry and tug, trying to get his fingernails behind the vent cover.

The mysterious Russian lady withdrew a switchblade knife. She put the blade behind the corner of the cover and it budged a little. Together they completely removed it and peered inside the dark crawlspace. Before they went any further he decided that he'd better get a little more knowledge about his new friend than "mysterious Russian lady".

"Hey, what's your name?" Derek asked.

She looked at him strangely.

"Nastasha," she replied.

"Nastasha—?"

"Nastasha Poliniski," she added.

"My name is Derek Maynor. I'm from Australia," he said extended his hand.

At first she just looked at his hand and finally shook it.

"I could tell by the accent," she said.

"You're Russian aren't you?"

"How'd you guess?" she gave a little wink. "You go up the vent shaft if you please. If it leads somewhere productive, I am trusting you to come back and get me. I am going to continue to try the card here."

"Okay—are you sure that you won't just come along with me?" Derek asked.

"I'll be okay if that's what you're trying to insinuate. I don't need protection," she objected.

"I would feel more comfortable having someone else with me—especially someone who knows the complex. I don't have a map or anything like that. I wouldn't know where "somewhere productive" is or what it looks like," Derek added.

"Okay. I will go with you. Through this door there is a route that leads to the motorboat. That is why we must come back here if we are to escape," she explained.

"What happened here? Why did everything go to help and why hasn't Umbrella sent for anyone to come and help?" Derek asked.

"I'm just as ignorant to the details as you are. I know that the B.O.W.s are loose and that the security system has been tampered with for sure. My best assumption is that there is either a hostile takeover gone wrong or sabotage at stake here," she said. It made sense. She did work here after all.

How much could he really trust her then? If she belonged to Umbrella wasn't she technically his enemy. She saved his life and was apt enough to cooperate with him. He decided that he'd have to pry for some more information.

"You said that you work for Umbrella—what part?"

"I am network technician. I install, build and maintain the network of computers and security on this complex," she said.

"Then if anyone knows how to manipulate the system it would be you, correct?" Derek asked.

"Yes—in theory. I designed the system so that those with the highest clearance easily have the most power over it. It worked out against me. If I had access to my security console I could restore the system back to default," she said.

"Well that's not nearly as important as getting out of here alive," Derek beamed.

"True. It may be necessary to get the doors we need to open," she said.

"So what do you suggest?" Derek asked.

"I told you already," she said, sounding a little bit aggravated. "We are going to crawl through this vent together and we're going to see if it leads to either an exit or a route to my security console."

She didn't say that.

"Alright then, let's go," Derek said.

"You first, I insist," she said with a gesture.

And so Derek began to crawl through the dark vent, not knowing where all of it would lead him.

Jennifer and Jerry were finally in Paris. They were able to find Trent's fabled house of goodies without much difficulty. She was loading the weapons for the mission. They were packing pretty lightly. They each were taking a Glock 17, ammunition, and some grenades. They planned on going in and out. Jennifer was also packing a camera bag to take careful note of everything that Umbrella had hiding in that lab. Jerry was taking some computer things to see if he could copy any of the files to use as proof against Umbrella.

Jennifer had never been so scared and ready at the same time. The reason she was scared was because of her own determination. She had no real motivation other than to bring justice to a corrupt company. They hadn't done anything personal to her, until sending an assassin to kill her of course. Why was she so ready to risk her life and the life of her best friend? It didn't make any sense to her and yet she felt that she somehow had to go. She felt that she was predestined somehow to expose Umbrella.

Don't think. Just lock and load.

"You ready?" Jerry asked her.

"Yeah. Trent said that there was a helicopter on the roof. Let's find out if he was telling the truth or not," she replied.

She followed Jerry up the stairs and onto the roof. To their satisfaction there was an unmarked, black helicopter which was fully-fueled and functional. That was another thing that bothered her so much. Trent had to be on the inside. He probably had more opportunity to sabotage Umbrella from his position than to give incite to little ragtag groups here and there. It kept him safe from failure, exposure and danger though. Jennifer was too confused for her own good. She figured that just proceeding with the mission and not looking back would be the best idea for her right now. She would forget about all her confusion and questions when she was in the face of her mission. She climbed into the co-pilot's seat of the helicopter, kept her eyes sharp and focused dead ahead, awaiting her arrival.

"Tell me how," Leon half-asked-half-demanded.

"The fall wasn't incredibly far. I was banged up a little bit. I landed on a platform behind a door that hadn't been opened," Ada explained.

"How do you know that it wasn't opened?" Leon asked.

"Well it was locked from the side that I was on. Just inside was a weapon's supply room. I grabbed a new weapon for myself when I heard gunshots from the platform below me. I tossed her my machine gun. There was so little time that I didn't even check to see if she made it out okay. There was another emergency elevator. I took it up and out of the lab and back onto the surface. I called for Trent and he sent for me just before the city was destroyed," Ada finished. She took a deep breath. She had wanted to tell Leon the whole truth for quite some time now.

"Then you delivered your G-virus to Umbrella, right?"

"Leon…"

"It's okay. You don't even have to answer. You wouldn't be here right now if you didn't complete your mission. How much did they pay you?"

"Enough," she replied with an unintentional smile. The smile didn't set too well with Leon.

"So it's still all about the money?" Leon asked.

"This is what I do for a living, Leon. I'm a freelance agent. Sometimes I work for different contractors but Umbrella is my most frequent employer," she replied.

"So you're their hired gun; you do their dirty work," Leon said.

"You make me sound like some kind of hit man," Ada said defensively.

"You're not a hit man?" Leon asked.

"No. Don't you know what a freelance agent it?" Ada was surprised.

"A gun for hire," Leon half-spat.

"That's a mercenary," Ada corrected.

"Well what is a freelance agent then?" Leon was getting irritated. Ada sighed. She didn't want to upset him, especially with trivial things such as what they were discussing now.

"I investigate, infiltrate, retrieve, rescue, record, protect, deliver and collect. Most of my work has been to spy on the progress of different rogue scientists that have left Umbrella to work for competitors," Ada explained.

"I see. You're an undercover agent for hire," Leon said. It seemed like he wasn't really interested in talking about it anymore.

"What are we going to do about Xander?" Ada asked. She found it strange that she was asking him. Usually Ada would have taken charge of a situation like that and tried to get him to do what she wanted him to do.

"I have to help my friends and we have to kill assassin man to do that. So I think my answer is pretty apparent," Leon said. She figured that would be his reaction.

"Assassin man?"

"Sorry, cheap attempt at nickname humor," Leon replied with a smile. They chuckled a little bit. It was good to laugh and joke. It had been a long time since Ada had last genuinely smiled.

It was the last I was with him.

She looked Leon over. He had changed since Raccoon. He seemed older now. He looked like he'd buffed up a little bit. He had a shorter haircut. She had a happy little vision of marrying him, having a normal life together, with regular jobs and kids. It would never happen now. Her line of work had led her to lie to him. He'd never trust her again, much less love her and marry her. Umbrella had put them both on their hit list. They'd never be safe no matter where they went. They would be hunted to the ends of the Earth by Umbrella's henchmen.

Umbrella was guilty of more than illegal experimentation and murder. They were guilty of crushing dreams. Leon's dreams—Ada's dreams. Nearly all promise of a regular life had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces. Ada never really cared for Umbrella or its work. She didn't have a personal vendetta against them when she'd collected her check. She didn't even hold so much as a grudge when she'd tried to contact Leon. When he told her of stories of his friends, the renegade S.T.A.R.S. who were fighting tirelessly to put an end to Umbrella's vile existence, when he told her of the stories of those who had fought, bled and died for the cause, she was moved. She understood for the first time why it was so important to stop Umbrella.

It's the right thing to do. It's the only choice we have. It's the only chance we have.

She made a personal pact with herself that she would find a way to work to destroy Umbrella once and for all. Fear of death seemed to fade away. Even if she died trying it to stop Umbrella it would be no different than one of their hired guns killing her. It was time for revolution. It was time for Umbrella to pay.