Objective 1. Country Road. 10:16 A.M.

"Got the goods?" Tanaka asked, putting on a pair of latex gloves. "You know what this means right? I mean…" he took the case from the timid man in front of him, "You know what this is?" The four other men backed away as Tanaka began to unlatch the case. Suddenly he paused and turned to the man next to him. "Oh yeah…that's right, I forgot…go ahead"

Within seconds, the men on either side of Tanaka had pulled out two handguns each and shot all four men in front of them point blank. They were professionals, each bullet cut cleanly into every man's chest. "Sorry," Tanaka said to the now lifeless men lying on the ground, "but this isn't something I can let you away with."

At last, Tanaka pried open the case, staring wide eyed at the green fluid filled vials in front of him. But, as he suspected he was double crossed, because one of the vials was missing. Tanaka sighed and approached the body of one of his minions.

This one had the vial; he could see that he did because the vial itself had shattered when the body of the man hit the cold earth. The contents of the vile were now spilled out everywhere. "Shit," Tanaka cursed loudly. "Well, at least we'll get to see if the things they say about this virus are true." He turned to the man on his right, "But I don't want to be here when the effects of this thing kick in, let's go." The men headed in through the warehouse door with their newest find.

Outside, the body of the man who had taken the vial of the virus began to stir…

1: 05 P.M.

A motorcycle chugged down the dirt path leading to the Military Warehouse. The helmeted rider began to sweat in the summer heat, which was much warmer than the heat of any U.S. summer she could remember in past years. It was unfortunate that she was on duty, she would have rather spent her time in Tokyo seeing the sites, eating sushi, and the requisite endless shopping. But if she failed on this mission, that dream would never become a reality. Tokyo was but a small accident away from becoming the next Raccoon City.

It had been three months before when Claire Redfield received the call from the U.S. government. She had been involved in cleaning up the disaster that was Raccoon City, a reconstruction effort that had been going on for a year or two now.

While rummaging through the R.P.D.'s basement looking for anything that could convict that oh-so-famous-pharmaceutical-company further, her cell phone went off.

"Hello?" Claire said, dropping a trivial memo onto the floor.

"Is this Claire Redfield?" the stately voice said on the opposite end of the receiver.

"Speaking…"

"This is General Waterford at the Pentagon, I understand Ms. Redfield that you're a well accomplished survivalist, and a pretty good shot from what I hear."

Claire sighed, "I see news travels fast…well what can I do to help you?"

"It's what you can do to help us. What you've demonstrated in action is bravery, skill, strength, and what it takes to play with the big boys. You survived that ordeal in the city, and took down a whole island's worth of illegal scientific research, dangerous bio weapons as well."

She could see where he was going with this, "So, is this a recruitment offering or what? Besides, even if I did do all of that, it doesn't make me a trained S.W.A.T. officer or something, what makes you think I can get by on some Saturday karate lessons and some training from military pals?"

"Pals like, oh lets say, Leon Kennedy?" The voice sounded like it was in on some joke, hell maybe it was a crank call.

"How do you…" and then she remembered, he was one of the government's prized work dogs now, taking down what could have been the next bio hazardous threat. Plus saving the president's daughter was probably no walk in the park either. It was apparent that Leon had recommended Claire for a position as a government agent. That bastard, she thought.

What else would she do? Sure she could help rebuild the city, but besides that what else was there to do? Now was her opportunity. Just swallow your pride, "All right, I accept your offer...but still I don't have any real training."

Waterford laughed lightly. "Don't worry about it, a few weeks of basic and perhaps a couple of extra lessons should cover you. Just don't do anything too risky…your brother was always a risk taker."

And that's what got him kicked out of the air force. "I'm in."

"Welcome aboard Ms. Redfield."

And here she was now, outside a strange warehouse, half a mile across the world. She parked her bike in the bushes where it wouldn't attract any attention. Suddenly her communicator began beeping. She flipped it out and took a look at the screen. An elderly, grey haired Japanese gentleman looked back at her.

"…Come in, is this Ms. Redfield?"

Claire relaxed. He speaks English; still those extra Japanese lessons should come in handy just in case. "Yes, but just call me Claire. Are you Dr. Kimura?"

"Yes," the man said in that soft spoken way many Japanese people do, "I am Dr. Toru Kimura, I work for the Banyo Corporation."

This is pretty much like saying Umbrella: Japan division, I hope the U.S. government knows who it's dealing with. "Glad to be working with you Dr. Kimura, can you tell me anything about the case?"

The doctor rubbed his brow. "The virus obtained by the Yakuza gang who refer to themselves as 'Blood Sharks' was the last of the T-Virus samples to be produced by Umbrella. What we are looking at here is the most developed strain of the virus."

That doesn't sound like your friendly neighborhood T-Virus to me. "So what makes this batch so special?"

"Research shows that this strain of virus was meant to perfect the flaws found in the other…subjects."

Claire put it bluntly. "You mean the zombies."

The doctor flinched at the word. "Yes…though Umbrella didn't get much of a chance to study the effects of what I like to refer to as the T2-Virus. From what I gather it was supposed to use other cells in the body and mutate them, turning them into material that could regenerate the organs less developed after the effects of the virus set in. Specifically the brain, which as you may or may not know is a function those—zombies is what you call it?—can't use. This is what prevents their logical actions, such as capable speech, excessive movement, and promotes the desire to…consume human flesh."

Claire had to register the information Kimura was giving her. "So, what you're saying is that this virus was intended to make them more human…the original goal of Umbrella."

"Well, yes, in theory. But the fact of the matter is that Umbrella didn't have much time to work on the virus any further. In fact, the T2 version of the virus only made the…zombies more dangerous and the disease itself more contagious. It's because this version was designed specifically to mutate. The virus helped to regenerate cells in the brain, yes, but it wouldn't stop there. The cells became more malevolent, a sort of super cancer in the body of the test subjects. But as you know, death does not come easily to them and they would only continue to mutate into even worse abominations then what Umbrella had previously seen, almost like the G-Virus later created by William Birkin. Worse of all, these ones were smarter…more evolved."

Shit, shit, shit, the last thing I needed was smart zombies. "So only a few vials of this T2-Virus were created right?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses. "Indeed. The case delivered to Japan contained only but…six or so vials. It should be easy to retrieve but based on the circumstances, it's a very delicate operation."

"Yes, well what about that agent that was supposed to be assigned to me?"

"She'll be there in due time, but I suggest you go ahead and clear out the warehouse. Remember use force only if necessary. Over and out."

Claire walked over to the front door of the warehouse. It was wide open, and very suspicious considering this was supposed to be a hideout for a gang of mobsters. Peculiar still were the large freshly dried bloodstains on the earth outside the hideout.

So much for going in here relaxed…three or four bodies I bet. She picked up a nearby bullet shell. At least we know they weren't killed by zombies…still where did the bodies get to? They could have very well been taken away by whoever had committed the crime. Even in a secluded area such as this one, a pile of dead bodies outside in broad daylight would be sure to attract some unwanted attention eventually.

Claire stepped into the wide hall of the musty warehouse. A few stray crates and broken machinery lay about, but it was clear that this place hadn't been used for a long time. A sound could be heard coming beneath the floor, which meant that this place went underground, a fact made obvious by the rather large key card operated elevator at the back of the room. As if the machine had taken notice of Claire's curiosity, the sounds of an elevator cable began to resonate from the shaft doors.

Lucky. Must be the feng shui. Claire ducked behind a crate. A few seconds later, a rather panicked stricken Japanese man stepped out of the elevator. Even in the heat, a Yakuza gang member always had to look their finest. Claire admired them in a way one admires a villain from a 30's gangster movie. They were the dapper Al Capones of modern day but with an Asian twist. This one however did nothing to support their glamorous look. It was as if he had just escaped a bar fight.

As soon as the man walked past Claire's hiding spot, she stepped out and pointed a gun to his head. "Kikai kudesai." Give me the key card.

The man was more alert than she thought, he spun around to try and take the gun from her, pulling his out while he did so. He shot once but Claire somersaulted behind a crate. So much for that nice Japanese hospitality. She tried to fire at his gun hand. If she could get a clear shot, she could knock the gun out of his hand without having anyone get injured. The man anticipated this and took a shot at the crate she was behind. This was going to take more effort than she had thought.

She made a dash for the nearest object she could duck behind. She back flipped over another bullet and landed on top of a crate carrier.

"You white bitch!" the man shouted angrily.

Claire laughed it off. "That's no way to speaking to a lady." She jumped behind the carrier as another shot was fired. If she could keep this up, the man would be out of bullets and she could grab him when he started to reload. Suddenly, a loud bursting sound came from the ventilation duct above them. The metal was being hammered against and was beginning to cave out.

That sure isn't a mouse. Claire tried giving a warning to the man. "Drop your weapon and hide!" But the man was staring in wonderment at the caving duct above him. With a burst of metallic scrap, a pink, fleshy, business suited half human burst into the room. Had Claire been any wiser to the situation, she would have recognized the creature as the man who had spilled the T2 virus. He certainly wasn't a man anymore. A grotesque pink tumor bulged out from his neck, and his tongue, a large spiky protrusion, lolled about him, spraying thick saliva everywhere.

Perhaps the man was frozen with such fear that he couldn't move, but the creature had swiftly launched its pointed tongue at the gang member, impaling him in the chest cavity. Claire could see the tongue come out the back. She hoped that the man had died quickly but knew he wouldn't be dead for long afterward. He dropped the gun and the card key onto the cement floor. Claire didn't hesitate to leap out, tuck and roll her self across the floor, and grab both gun and key card.

The creature had let go of the man and turned its attention to Claire who was making a run for the elevator. The beast pursued her but fell back when Claire delivered two shots to it with her gun. She tried swiping the card at the door, but she was nervous and went too fast. The creature propelled itself up when it saw she was struggling.

Aw screw it! She emptied four shells into the beast, and it fell down with a sickening thud. Claire turned back to the elevator and got the key to work. As she stepped in, she saw the creature pushing itself forward towards the elevator with its tongue. There was only one other button, so she pressed it. The tongue was touching the elevator now. In a sudden burst of courage she leapt out and pulled the tongue into the elevator. The doors shut on it as it whipped around wildly. Claire held on as the elevator made its descent. The tongue was cut off cleanly at the top and fell down to the floor, still squirming. With a gut turning squish, Claire stomped on it with her boot. It moved no more.