Warning: I do not own any Capcom related things and stuff

D O M I N A T I O N

by Concussion

Prologue: Mysterious Informant

Tange Roland woke up to the ringing of the phone. He sat up and picked up the phone on his nightstand. "Hello," he said yawning. The clock on the wall said five a.m.

"Roland."

It was the captain. He stood up, "Yes sir?"

"We rendezvous in forty-eight hours, report to the meeting room in thirty," he said, "That is all. Goodbye."

Tange hung up and put on a clean pair of clothes. This was going to be his first U.B.C.S operation he was doing for Umbrella. Three years ago he did three assassinations and was successful.

He walked to the table to grab his keys and looked down on the files and reports for the operation. He looked at the file in a red folder saying "For Your Eyes Only" and opened it. He'd gone through all the reports thousands of times but always opened the red folder. Creatures that had been genetically created and some virus spill that had occurred and infected a city he had to go. What was the city called, Scrap, Scrapeson City. That was the name.

He picked up his cell phone and walked out the door. He went to the elevator at the end of the hall and walked in pressing ground floor.

Ding. The elevator doors opened and he walked out. He walked out the lobby entrance of the apartment complex. He walked to his car, which was a used El Camino. Tange was real paranoid about spending his money even though he had tens of thousands of dollars after previous missions in the past, he just didn't want to show-off by burning cash.

He started the engine and drove off, and looked at his watch. Five minutes had gone by. It was a another seven or eight minutes to get there depending on the traffic, and a few more minutes to get his ass in a chair before the captain screams the hell out of him, well at least he doesn't shoot anyone if their late. But for God sakes it was a little after five in the morning there'd be no way to be late.

Rringinginginging- Went his cell phone.

"Hello," he said wondering who would call at this time of the day.

"Hello, shall I say, Mr. Roland," said a man in a deep voice.

"Who's this?" he said, "and how do you know my name?"

"I'm just a friend trying to help."

"And who is my friend," he said sarcastically.

"For your mission," the man said on the other line, "I'll give you a tip, be careful who you trust, even though if they end up meaning something to you."

"Keep talking," Tange replied, "and what do you mean be careful who I trust?"

The line was silent for a few seconds; "Because your life depends on it." the man said smoothly, "Remember these words."

The line went dead, "Hello, you still there," he said. Tange put the phone on the passenger seat and accelerated onto the off-ramp, who was that guy, life depends on it, be careful who you trust. What kind of crap was the man talking about anyway? He checked at his watch once again. He still had plenty of time.

Something was wrong now. The man sounded serious, don't let him get to you, he's just pullin' your strings, trying to make you chicken out on the mission, screw him, he's probably just a dope on pot. But dopes don't end up knowing your name and a top secret mission assignment. He picked up the cell phone and looked at the text message of who called. It said 'number classified, a friend.' He drove off the off-ramp onto a dirt road and hit the gas pedal. The headquarters he was going to was a reopened Umbrella facility in the outskirts of town.