-CHAPTER 3-

Rebecca breezed nonchalantly down the luxurious halls of the political center, wondering what her ex-STARS friends were up to. Last she remembered, she had spent a weekend with Chris and Claire. Jill was visiting her father somewhere in Pennsylvania, and Barry was on a vacation with the family at the time. That was almost a year ago. She thought about the fun they had, Chris teasing Claire, and the fiery biker chick with her own wise cracks. She felt like she was really part of the family. Of course, she had her own family to worry about, but recently, she seemed to have very little open time. When she entered the main hall, she stopped and smiled as she saw Nash leaning against a giant statue of a soldier, grinning all the while.

"So, not much of a 'in the spotlight' gal, huh?" he shot at her, crossing his arms.

"Nah, more like a 'behind the scenes' person, but somehow I wound up playing both."

"Well, you technically are a hero, you know." Rebecca shook her head in what appeared like mild amusement.

"There you go again, flattering me not once, or twice, but thrice!"

"Oh, please! Don't tell me you don't like all that 'oh, Rebecca Chambers? My God, what a woman, what a sex symbol!'"

"W-What did you say!" Nash chuckled silently, his shoulders bobbing as he did so. Although she wanted to act as annoyed as she felt, she couldn't help a smile slip by.

"You really are a strange one, Mr. Silverburg," she said amiably.

"Yeah, well, for once I would like to be the one everyone talks about. I mean, sheesh, why always you? Oh, yeah, it's because you're hot. That must be it."

Rebecca put her one free hand on her chin, grinning deviously. "Wow, I sure feel sorry for all the decent, not-so-slutty ladies you've flirted with. Well, then again, that accounts to just one-tenth of the ladies, of course."

"Ouch, what a low blow," he said in response, clutching his chest as though she had punched him.

Rebecca sat down on a beautiful couch, completely plushy and comfortable as if it had just been bought- and not a tiny streak of dust or dirt. A couple of seats down was Dolph, the nice man from the meeting. He was reading some paper-back novel, his expression lax.

"You're . . . Dolph, correct?" she said to him, strolling casually toward him and away from Nash.

"Yes. And you are Rebecca."

"Yeah. Sorry if I disrupted your reading. I was just wondering what field you specialized in. We didn't get to speak much at the seminar."

Dolph smiled, his brilliant features crying out "genius" for some odd reason. He seemed average, maybe that was why. Regardless, he had attributes quite similar to hers; brown, short hair(although in his case, more unruly), hazel eyes, and finely chiseled facial features. He almost resembled a sixteen-year-old. And regrettably, just like her, too.

"I'm a chemist, like yourself, only I enjoy all aspects of the field. Bio, Earth, marine, you name it."

"Wow, that's much more than I can say for myself," Rebecca said, her eyes widening slightly.

"You think that? Aren't you the one who created the famous 'T-cure'?" He smiled, a confident one that showed much tacit modesty. He was much more mature than Nash, that was for sure.

"I just wanted to do it. Ever since . . ."

She paused suddenly, sighing inwardly as she saw the confusion on Dolph's face.

"Ever since . . . ?"

"Nothing, never mind. I'd rather not talk about it." With that Rebecca stood up and nodded at him. "It was good talking to you, Dolph. Hopefully we'll have more chances when we reach that island, uh . . ."

"Celesta Island?" he finished for her, wearing an entertained grin.

"Yeah, that's it! I'll see you there."

Rebecca headed off outside, running into Nash again.

"What's up with that? Am I not interesting anymore?" He still had that frivolous look on his youthful face. Rebecca just couldn't dislike him, for whatever the reason.

"Fine, I'll sit next to you on the plane," she said, sounding reluctant yet in a playful tone. "I know that's what you're bugging me for, right?"

"We have a deal," he said, as he shook her hand roughly.

*

K I N G

Their plane had just taken off, the mercenaries barely nervous at all. This wasn't the first time they did this sort of stuff. There was the predicament in Venezuela where they had to save several captive civilians from local terrorists, only to find out all the civilians were also in on it as an attempt to overrun the government through some fear tactic. Needless to say, when they interfered in their plans, things got ugly. If that wasn't a disaster, there was also the mess at the Bronx and the hostage crisis gone awry in LA. Whatever the mission, the Hell's Angels were usually on top of it. Plus, they were conveniently hired under the books, away from the law and away from the media.

King was lost in thought, just about done with his futile attempt to catch some shuteye. Surprisingly, they were all quiet. Ace was conked out from his drinking, Jack was staring out the window thinking of who-knew-what, and Queen was speaking to Joker in a low tone.

"Hmm, take a look at this," she told Joker, both of them leaning in to scan the newspaper that was in her hand.

"Ah, so, Latoya Jackson got another plastic surgery done," he replied, nodding his head in amazement. "You figured she was fake enough."

"No, not that, this!" she pointed out to him. "And while you're reading it, give me that article. I have got to she what Ms. Jackson did to herself this time."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of this," Joker said after several seconds. "They say the death toll was way over that of Raccoon City's." King shot a look back at the two, curious after they mentioned the old zombie city.

"What's that?"

"It's an article on B.O.W. happenings in Europe as of late," Queen replied.

"That's right, not only were there a series of many explosions and mutated bodies reported from somewhere in the wilderness of Spain, but there also seemed to be some kind of spill throughout major parts of Romania, a kind of ancient B.O.W. Rumors have it vampiric cultists had spread the odd plague. Thousands of innocents were devoured by the bloodsuckers."

"How horrible . . ." Queen said, covering her mouth.

"Well, can't say I'm surprised," King shot back.

"How can you say it doesn't surprise you?" Queen questioned. "Sure, after Raccoon it seemed anything was believable, but it's starting to appear like this stuff's spreading worldwide!"

"It just doesn't shock me as much as it does to you. I guess you can say I had my share of experience." The other two glanced at each other in wonderment. Even Jack stuck out his head from behind to listen in.

"Are you saying you had some part in all that, to the thousands who died?" Queen asked, her eyes glimmering with amazement.

"Raccoon City, the city Umbrella turned into a live graveyard filled with zombies," Jack added.

"Huh?" Joker turned to him. "What do you mean? I heard there was a leak of some sort, like a virus or something. But zombies?"

Jack just shut his eyes, looking solemn. Meanwhile, King shifted back to face the front of the plane.

"Captain, please tell us more! We want to know more about you. We are friends, right? You might as well go ahead."

"Our pasts are irrelevant, remember?" was his response. And Queen just sighed, looking disappointed.

"Aw, you can't just tell us that and leave us hanging, boss!" came a voice from behind the seats. Apparently, Ace woke up on time to hear their conversation.

". . ."

"I think everyone's interested in hearing what you have to say, captain," Joker suggested, "look, even Jack came out from his shell."

"All I'll say is this. Ever since the incident, I've been against Umbrella, hated everything about them among other reasons. The island we're heading off to used to be one of Umbrella's, and even now, I believe Umbrella's influence is still smudged all over it. This mission we're on could save more lives from the fate those people were forced to have."

"Wow, boss, never knew you were the heroic type," Ace blurted.

"Are you saying we're going to spy on Umbrella, the company that supposedly fell several years ago?" Queen reassured more than she asked.

"I've said enough."

With that, King closed his eyes, trying to rest. He knew that this was in his best interest and that company's. He just hoped he never had to witness any of the things that went on there.

Several hours must have gone by; King was awake after finally taking a nap. There stood the copilot, clapping his hands to get their attention.

"Alright, we're to drop you guys off via parachute."

"Parachute!" Queen shouted, revealing her fear of heights.

"Sure, parachute. That's what I said. Don't worry, just as long as you pull the cord, you should all land relatively where you have to. If not, you'll just have to make due in the deep blue sea."

"This is insane! I thought we'd land and . . ." Queen's words began to fade as she noticed the wide smile forming on the copilot's face.

"Rick and I would never do that to you guys. Don't worry, we'll land you near a safe coast, where you will all make a dramatic, James Bond type of entrance, right?"

"Fucking bastard," Queen whispered acidly.

Ace just chuckled and shook his head. "Jacob, you always were the better prankster."

"Alright, everybody hold on tight," shouted Rick, the pilot, from his seat. The plane made a sharp turn and was sloping downward. By the time it reached the shore, the plane hit a stop, splashing water every which way. The others were all thrown about, struggling to maintain their balance again.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to be a little more delicate," Joker stated, receiving a hardy laugh from Jacob.

"Good luck to all of you's," he said. "We need to make a pit stop to some city in Columbia. You know, fuel, coffee . . . chicks."

"Ha, have fun!" Ace said in a bucked up tone. "We'll be here waiting for our 'signal'."

"Alright, so get on outta here."

After hauling their gear, the team assembled sort of a camp near some woods close to the shore. The ocean was an invigorating sight from over there, lulling the group into a relaxed stance.

"What a scene," Jack mumbled to himself.

"Hey, Jack," came a voice. It was Ace, who also was enjoying the view. The sky wasn't cloudless, but it was still breathtaking. "Can I ask you a question? A kinda personal one?"

"Sure," he replied in his usual mild-mannered tone, "but don't expect an answer." Jack never enjoyed speaking about his past, not like he spoke much at all. Even so, the others would take shots anyway.

"I know you had something to do with what happened back then. Did you have to face them . . . you know, the 'zombies'?"

"Hmm," he contemplated, unknown whether or not it was about his question.

"Come on, man. What if we don't end up walking away from this mission? King said it had to do with Umbrella. This is the perfect time to let a good ol' friend know what's troubling you."

"Raccoon City . . . I used to live there."

". . . and? Were you there when the spill occurred?"

"Worse. I was there when my parents and siblings were eaten alive by the zombies. I found out Umbrella was behind it all. And I escaped, having to live with it for the rest of my life. A far worse punishment than those who died." As he said those words, he barely even faltered. He simply shut his eyes in reverence to the deaths he'd seen, then simply walked off, almost as if relieved and disturbed at the same time. Ace just looked back at him, wondering just how twisted that Umbrella company was to let something like that happen.

Meanwhile, King sat on a stump, staring at his PDA. Ace, seeming surprisingly soft-spoken, walked up to him.

"Hey, boss," he began, "you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I'm not that good of a hero and stuff. I'm just a drunk who loves his dirty job! I'm not cut out for . . . zombies!"

"Nonsense," Joker joined in. "Zombies? Maybe at Raccoon, but I highly doubt they'd repeat another one of those experiments, especially if they're in hiding."

"You're right," King added, his eyes still trained on the device he held. "The experiments would be far worse. But we're not even positive. That's what we're here to find out."

"Ah, so it will be 'in and out', like you said," Ace said with much relief, receiving a slanted brow from Joker.

"I thought your type of missions were the daredevil types, Ace. You're getting old on me, buddy."

"If anyone's getting older around here it's you, you dragon!" Ace shouted back.

The PDA began to ring, everyone's heads turning immediately to King. "It's time," he said, with a somber tone.

R E B E C C A

The island was quite a wonder. They landed in a hangar that closely resembled a military one; Rebecca had known that by the photo shots Chris showed her from when he was in the Air force. However, when they flew over the outlands of the island, she was stunned by the raw beauty still conserved on it. Strangely, it almost seemed as if the nature surrounding the militaristic base was used to conceal the place. Thinking it over a second time, it probably was.

Several rather stiff-looking people waited for them to arrive, taking all their luggage and handing them each a copy of the key to their rooms. When she received a key with the tag reading "108", she suddenly froze, remembering the arcane note she found.

Room 102 . . . that's what it said.

Without even her noticing, she was biting her lower lip, her thoughts racing as to how she should react. She took notice that Elaine Merces, the rich woman from the meeting, had the key with the tag "102". She didn't know whether to trust the note, or deem it dangerous.

"Everything okay?" asked Nash, a bit more worried-looking. "You seem very tense."

"Oh, I'm fine, thanks."

She walked along with him, the thought burning in her mind.

"Which room number did you receive?" he asked her, acting all excited like a child would.

"Um, 108, I believe," she replied, taking a look at his. It had the number "104" on its tag.

"Aw, shucks. Mine is in the first construct."

"First construct?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear the stewardess talk about it onboard the plane ride?"

"Plane rides aren't exactly where my strong points lie. I must've been drugged up on sleeping pills."

"Well, anyways, to make things short and sweet, each construct goes by intervals of five. So rooms 101 through 105 are in the first construct. Then, the next five are in the second construct and so on. There are three in all, and now, alas, we're separated!"

"Oh, stop being such a pansy," she said with a smile. "Here's an idea. Why don't you ask Elaine to switch keys with this one." Rebecca gave him her key, Nash taking it with mild interest.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're coming on to me," he said, apparently happy. She sighed deeply, hoping that what she was doing wasn't a great mistake. He came back, Elaine's key in his hands.

"Ha, I had the right charm to talk her into it."

"I highly doubt that, but if it makes you feel better."

They both exchanged evenly pleasant looks, a brief silence creating an awkward moment for them.

"Hey! How's about after we pack, we go check out this island? Hopefully they have a bar we can hang out at before all the annoying work and all."

"That sounds like fun, but seriously, are you really a scientist?"

Nash's toothy grin appeared again, most likely enjoying the teasing. "Of course! I will demonstrate this fact to you when we get to work."

"Ugh, let's just go."

They followed the others out of the hangar and into an enormous elevator probably meant for transporting crates and other packages from floor to floor. They went two levels higher, the monstrous elevator opening outside. The group of scientists, led by the security officers, veered around to their right, going through a nearly-hidden door. The metallic entry squealed open, the thing probably old as hell . . .

They continued walking some more, heading left, down a metal catwalk with stairs bringing them further down the lower levels.

"Gee, they never warned us about this," Nash said jokingly. "What an outrage!"

"I'll say," said Fred, the man with the glasses, who actually took what he said seriously. He wasn't badly built, but he wasn't exactly fit either. He was around his late thirties.

"Quit your whining. I overheard we may actually get paid handsomely for this once we're through," said Tara, the dark-skinned woman from before. She always seemed like she had some attitude issues, yet, Rebecca found her to be quite a nice lady after some talking. Dolph was the only one who didn't say a word yet since landing.

They all crossed an enormous bridge, one that stood above a very steep cliff. A light fog down the cliff indicated that they were pretty high in altitude. At their position at that very point, they could see the surrounding area fairly well. They were standing on a stone pathway instead of the bare soil from before; at least they didn't treat the residences as a military base. There were plants and trees here and there, planted intentionally but for unknown reasons, probably for decoration. Rebecca also thought it unusual that a huge metal double door with a rusted eagle insignia separated the residence from the rest.

Through a smaller gate, they reached the residence for the visitors who came to the island. One of the soldiers paused, standing in front of them.

"You may unpack your belongings, now. Find the construct and room, and settle in if you wish. You may navigate through the residential area, not anywhere else. Security is on duty 24/7. After dawn, you shall all receive a briefing."

The rest of the soldiers followed the other out of the visitors' quarters, leaving them on their own. The area was pretty impressive. They could see the three rather average-sized constructs where their rooms would be, each no bigger than an average suburban home. They all went their separate ways, looking for their rooms.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get going."

Nash's enthusiasm was somehow not helping at the moment. Feelings of regret and nausea began to tear at Rebecca's insides after too much rethinking.

Oh, come on! It's not like there's gonna be some serial killer in there waiting for me. Suck it up and just go . . .

Given her limited options, she took a deep breath and prepared to enter room 102.