Desks were turned over, the smell of stall coffee permeated in the air, and the stench of rotting flesh flooded the small office construct. In the middle of this was Billy Coen, sitting on his desk and a cigarette in his mouth. He gives it a final puff and puts it out on the skull of a nearby corpse. He raises his Striker shogun, points it to a rising head just outside his view and without even looking, pulls the trigger. The creature's head explodes from its neck.
"Aw, man, I'm out of smokes!" Billy moans. "Ah, well, I should probably quit. Damn things are diggin' into my ammo funds, anyway." He pulls out the drawer to his desk and a white rabbit jumps on his leg. "How you doin', Becky?"
The rabbit twitches her nose in response and hops onto Billy's shoulder. The ex-Marine gives the shotgun a quick pump and digs through another drawer in his desk. He finds what he's looking for and pulls out a red object, roughly the size of his palm.
"Frag grenades, God's gift to disgruntled Umbrella victims," Billy declares, slipping the object into his ammo belt.
Pounding footsteps grab his attention. Billy slings the rifle off his shoulder and takes aim. His view to the stairwell is non-obstructive, his finger rests easy on the trigger, and sweat pours down his face. He's about ready to fire until he sees Jill Valentine's noticeable reddish-brown hair come into view.
"She's gonna get herself killed if she keeps doing that," Billy mutters. He slings the rifle back over his shoulder and whistles.
Leon and Jill spent the better part of five minutes moving decapitated corpses, and some with cigarette burns, out of the way as they cleared a path to Billy. Leon filled Billy in about the reactor's overload time and his second encounter with Wesker. They then came to a decision.
"I say we get outta here and let Wesker blow himself up," Billy states. "Chances are, whatever he's looking for, ain't here right now."
"Sounds like a plan," Leon says.
"I agree," Jill adds. "The last time I got trapped with that guy in a nightmarish place, I got locked in a cell and nearly got killed by a seven-foot thing in desperate need of a pair of nail clippers."
Billy and Leon share a look of surprise, and then shrugged it off. The next few minutes were spent digging through the ammo belts off the fallen soldier's in the piles Billy created. Jill found by sheer luck some ammo for Magnum, Billy found a few extra shotgun shells, and Leon found a 16-gauge Remington, fully loaded.
"Shotguns, Magnums, and grenades…oh, my," Jill says.
"We're off to kill the Wesker," Billy adds.
The trio gave the office area one last look around before heading downstairs. Just as they left, a set of jagged claws burst through the wall on the other side of the room.
Wesker grunted and groaned in pain. Finding his way back to his temporary headquarters was easy enough, but dealing with a leg that was punctured by a Magnum bullet was pure hell. He was grateful that it went straight through, since he didn't feel like digging through the soft flesh in his leg. It would be a few hours before the hole in his leg healed, and until then, he wasn't going anywhere. Lying down on the cold floor of the boiler room security office gave the ex-captain time to gather his thoughts.
"Master of unlocking, ha!" Wesker shouted, taking a firm grip on his thigh. "Bitch! I'll fix her one of these days, right after I yank out Redfield's heart and shove it down his sister's throat!"
A grinding of metal shook Wesker out of his rant. The Nemesis was coming through! The former S.T.A.R.S. captain sprung to his one good leg and stared at his security monitor. Sure enough, the S.T.A.R.S.-killing Tyrant had managed to rip apart the steel door and was making its way through the labyrinth of tunnels that lead to his lair. Wesker was infuriated.
"Let's see you find me after I do this!" Wesker growls. He hits a switch and the vents inside the tunnels opened, followed by the activation of high-powered fans. Wesker grinned evilly, seeing the creature grunt in confusion as the scent of its prey was all around it now. "It pays to be evil."
The Nemesis took a direction and ran with it. Wesker was pleased, upon seeing a sign that read: TOXIC WASTE DUMP.
Tyrant burst through the paper thin wall of the office area. A razor-sharp dorsal fin replaced the fin-blades on its back and a set of hardened teeth were in its jaw. Perhaps absorbing the mutant shark wasn't such a bad idea, after all. Tyrant grunted, its new enhanced hunting instincts working in overtime. The shark's tough skin would certainly increase its chances of fending off any small arms fire.
Tyrant ran through the office, its massive claw swinging. The sharpened blades sliced through the pile of corpses like they were nothing. The zombie's T-Virus stained blood sunk into the creature's body, causing some veins to pop. He cleared the office area and was hot on the trail of the three humans recently here. They would prove to be excellent sport.