Objective 13: 12:20 A.M. Banyo Chemical Disposal Unit
Claire and Yoko now stood in front of the CEO of Banyo Enterprises. The two women reiterated their story, of what happened during and after the incident.
Sakura had been dropped off at bustling Shibuya station. She had been reunited with her parents. From the hellish journey, Sakura retained a tattered sailor fuku, messy hair, a bloodied pocket knife, and Claire's E-Mail address written on a piece of paper that read "let's talk some time." Sakura had ditched the gun and left it with Claire. Better for her parents not to ponder why their fifteen-year-old daughter had brought a berretta home. They were a mess of tears as they hugged her, her brother giving his sister the "tell me all about it later" look. Nobody would believe her of course if she told them, but it didn't matter. Besides, lining through a Raccoon City experience was much more fulfilling than doing a school paper on it.
Ken had gone home to celebrate his daughter's ninth birthday. He was late of course, but never too late for family. He would never forget Claire or the others who had accompanied him through the Hell of the undead that had become Tokyo's underground. He got a job a week later, working—as fate would have it—as a police officer. He never looked back at the Yakuza lifestyle again.
This left Yoko and Claire to explain what happened to Keihachiro Banyo—the only sane president of the company, it seemed—who listened in with eager ears. Finally, when he had heard both sides of the story he let out a long sigh. "You don't need to say anymore, I believe every word. I thank you on behalf of the company, no, the country of Japan. This was truly a great undertaking." He shook both their hands as they stood in the warm glow of the incinerator. "Yoko, I'm happy to announce that starting tomorrow you will now be the head of the R&R department."
Yoko bowed. "Thank you sir…but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would like to request a weeks vacation. I wouldn't mind going back to America for a few days."
Mr. Banyo smiled. "Of course. Permission granted. However…about what happened….The Military Warehouse outside of Tokyo has burnt to the ground, our company and the government are taking care of the remains. The No.35 Tunnel has collapsed, burying the subway track, the E-Train, and to a lesser extent, some of our laboratories. All of this means, of course, that you will have no proof of what happened. All of the bodies have either been burnt, buried, and from what you say Yoko, they all dehydrate naturally within a few hours anyway."
"The major flaw of the T2-Virus." She looked down at the case. "The mutatations cannot retain water. They become nothing more than dried up corpses several hours after infection."
Dr. Banyo wiped his brow. "I see. Like I said, we have no evidence, no proof, and quite frankly, I intend to keep it that way. The public cannot know what has happened."
Typical cover up, Claire thought to herself. Banyo was only a step up from Umbrella in her eyes. She agreed nonetheless. "Right, not a word will get out."
"Great," Banyo said, satisfied. "Then just hand the case over and everything will all be set."
Claire nodded, walked over to Yoko and took the damnable attaché case. There were only four vials left after the incident. Instead of handing it over to Banyo however, Claire turned towards the incinerator and dumped the whole thing inside, case and all. Lastly, she pressed the switch, starting the disposal procedure.
Banyo stood back, mortified. "Wha…why did you-"
"Because Mr. Banyo, if this mission has taught me anything," she said as she walked to the exit door, "It's, if you have to get something done, its better to do it yourself." With that, she and Yoko walked out the door, leaving Mr. Banyo—mouth agape—in the disposal room.
"C'mon Yoko," Claire said, "lets go out and experience some of that famous Tokyo night life. I for one am in need of a drink."
Mission Completed…