Flashlights mounted to weapons peered futilely into the deep darkness of the labyrinth. The facility looked more like a bombed out shelter than a high-end research lab, but their intel had suggested that this secret part of the buildings was built decades ago under the guise of a fallout shelter for corporate VIPs. Blueprints were all but impossible to come by, so they'd have to adapt their plan while on the move. They'd move in teams of three, leaving each fireteam in a wing on their own to collect any evidence they could before setting the charges and wiping away the facility. Leon was thankful that Carlos would be in his team, but he wasn't quite sure of the other support team member, who was working on the steel door's locking mechanism.
"Yo, Billy…something wrong," asked a grinning Carlos. The other man was prying at the panel with a ridiculously large combat knife, bracing his legs against the wall to use more force. Leon and Carlos exchanged a wary look, as both knew Billy was a little too gung ho for his own good.
"You know, there's always the option of a screwdriver," suggested Leon, and Billy shot him a dirty look as he grunted with immense strain. Leon could see muscles bulging, even under the thickness of his parka, and decided his input might be better kept to himself. When the panel finally snapped in two, he gave them a satisfied grin like it had all been worthwhile. Just then, the lights above them flickered to life as the automated door slid open. Apparently fireteam Alpha had achieved their objective well ahead of schedule. Leon's job was to search the smallest wing and cover their entry/exit point. It wasn't terribly exciting stuff, but the trio were the least seasoned of the unit. Graham had suggested that the three work together to get their feet wet, just to get a feel for how an O.R.E. mission was run from beginning to end.
"Nice work, Billiam," joked Carlos. "Maybe if you stomp on that grate and break it, the heat will come back on," he added, shivering from the cold.
If Billy had been upset, he didn't show it. No one really knew much about the guy, and Billy wasn't the type to volunteer information. He had a lot of tattoos on his body, a couple military-related. Leon had noticed them once while in the shower, but mentioning such an observation to the other guys might spawn endless ridicule at his expense, and so he kept quiet.
--
The peaceful quiet was broken when crackling static in her ear announced Wesker's inquiry.
"Ada, have you reached the launch bay yet," he asked sternly, without even a pretense of decorum.
"I'm looking at it as we speak," she answered, a bit put out. Was he going to check on her every five minutes? Even if he didn't exactly trust her, he could at the very least trust her skills.
"Any signs of the Ashfords?"
"None, but I've found clues to suggest they'll be traveling in tandem."
He cleared his throat in that controlled way of his, something less than a cough for most normal people. "I have also found evidence along the same lines, a journal…" he said before trailing off. It wasn't like him to be distracted. She could hear him rifling through pages on his end, probably the pages of the journal he had mentioned.
"What is it?"
"Nothing you can't handle. Just find one of them and our mission will be completed. Take the plane and meet me at the planned coordinates," he ordered.
"The plane is currently…ah, unavailable," she said.
"Very well," he sighed. "You'll swim back to the boat and I'll send someone to retrieve you." He made it sound like she was a misplaced piece of luggage. She opened her mouth to say something about that when she heard the roar of a jet engine coming to life overhead, streaking away from the island.
"You said the plane was non-functional," he stated, an icy edge to his voice.
"It is," she replied, a bit confused. "I'm looking at it right now and it's still grounded. It must be—"
"Another plane…most likely a jet," he finished for her. She really hated it when he did that. "It's no doubt Alfred. Very well, my operatives are prepared for this eventuality and will track him via satellite." His resources continued to impress her, but she couldn't help but take some small degree of satisfaction from his plan hiccupping.
"I'm turning back then," she said curtly, turning away from the bay.
"Ada…there is one more thing I want you to take care of…the Redfield girl is on the island."
"Is that so…?"
"It is…I want you to eliminate her."
"And the research we came for? I still have to set up the proxy device to ransack their database…there might be something left we can use."
"I have taken care of that personally, and obtained Alexia's research journals…among other things. The mission objectives are completed and I will pursue Alfred alone. Finish this last order and I will…forgive your earlier…transgressions."
"Of course," she said, masking the reluctance in her heart. "It will be done."
"For your sake I certainly hope so," said Wesker, closing the connection.
Ada walked over to the unlit control panel, her shaking heart oddly at ease. Despite the thoughts racing through her mind, she knew exactly what she was doing. Two of the three crests were in place above the control panel, the middle one missing. Removing the last piece from her satchel, she slid it into place, activating the power lift system. Wesker and his orders could go to hell for all she cared. As far as Ada was concerned, anyone Wesker hated enough to want dead was her best friend in the world.
--
The hum of motors suddenly returning to life startled them. All three of the men had looked upwards, half expecting an attack from above. They had been told that the power was completely nonfunctional in this wing, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Most of the fluorescent bulbs were dead or broken, but enough worked to fill the room with enough dull white light to turn off their flashlights.
The docking area was musty, the air surprisingly damp despite the climate. A lingering reek of rotten flesh tinged the room, but that was to be expected. They began to move through the maze of crates and boxes systematically, always a weapon raised and ready to protect a squad member's back. Billy took the point as usual, his custom shotgun eagerly looking to spill some blood. Carlos and Leon took the wing and flank, the two nodding to one another before moving on. The ideal fire team consisted of at least four soldiers, but O.R.E.'s resources were strained with all the new recruits Graham was pulling in. And so Carlos and Leon had no choice but to take on extra responsibility, luckily familiar with each other's tendencies and movements by now.
Billy's shotgun bellowed from down the aisle, the sound of smacking wet flesh and splintered wood immediately following it. The other two quickened to a trot, catching up with him. Two zombies lay on the floor, their torsos torn to shreds but their mouths still moving mindlessly. Billy's large knife was already in his other hand, and he stabbed downwards with it through their skulls in rapid succession, pressing his boot down as leverage to pull the blade out of the second one's head.
"Shit man, remind me never to piss you off," said Carlos, wheeling side to side with his rifle, expecting more to come out.
"Just remember to put the toilet seat down," Billy replied, his voice deadpan. Carlos looked in disbelief at Billy cracking a joke. Leon, too, couldn't believe it, nor help laughing. It had been Carlos' first night in training, and he had stumbled towards the bathroom half-asleep. The rest of the bunker awoke to the sound of splashing water and Carlos' cursing. He had swore at every sleeping man in the area, telling each he'd die a lonely death without the love of a good woman if he never learned to put the toilet seat down. The men all laughed at this, even Carlos. All except Billy; roused from sleep, he told Carlos to learn to piss standing up like the rest of them, which made the men laugh even more. Ever since then Billy had been the straight man of Carlos' comedy act without really knowing it. Or so they had thought.
"Four o'clock," yelled Leon. Carlos spun to his right, firing one neat burst into an approaching zombie's face, its brain spurting out of punctured holes in its cheek. Leon began to fire at two more closing off the way they had come in, his carbine chattering hot lead that tore the slow creatures to gory pieces. Leon still hadn't gotten a hang of accurate aiming under pressure, especially with automatic rifles. The only weapon he was remotely close to his peers with under fire was the handgun. His training officer, Lt. Krauser, blamed it on Leon's fondness of American westerns and tried to teach him time and time again the nuances of close quarters combat with a knife. Many of the guys in the squad had taken to calling him Butch Kennedy (which he hated but kept quiet about), but Carlos had leapt at the chance to be his Sundance.
"Up there," pointed Billy, blasting a crawling zombie in half. A steel catwalk loomed above them, the ladder only a dozen yards away. From up there, they would be able to take their time and pick off each and every one of the undead. Billy began to move towards it without waiting for their reply.
--
The seaplane was but a small dot in the night sky, disappearing beyond the line of the horizon. Ada watched it from the shore, a pleased smile on her usually pouty lips. Wesker would kill her for this, she thought, and for the first time in a long time, the thought didn't bother her in the slightest.
A cool sea wind came in along the surf, the shuffling waves gently reaching for the shore. Looking back, she heard nothing, saw nothing. The island was completely silent. Wesker's Gestapo goon squad was long gone, and everything was oddly peaceful. Dim lights dotted the mountainside buildings, and she couldn't help but be reminded by a resort she had once visited. So this was another. Another tranquil landscape ruined by Umbrella's ambitions, another piece of nature destroyed by their biological machinations.
The stillness of the night was broken by the whirl of a boat motor in the distance. It was coming in quickly, a small craft with a big engine, probably not meant to be silent. She heard the motor cut off, and knew whoever it was would row the rest of the way. So not a complete amateur, at least. Ada collected the last of her things, zipping the bag closed, and crawled atop a sand dune. Through the heavy green hues of her night vision goggles, she could make out a single-manned raft slowly approaching the island. Whoever it was, he was lucky the waves were on his side tonight. Or perhaps he had accounted for them. She thought it over, and her earlier assessment might have been a bit harsh. After all, no living person, much less a guard, should have been on that section of the beach. She took more than a bit of pride at being an unplanned variable in every assignment she undertook.
The dark shape anchored the boat now against the craggy rocks of a sheer cliff. She assumed from the size of the shape that it was a man, but she couldn't be sure from this distance. Adjusting the lens of her goggles, she was able to zoom in for a closer look, catching the ruggedly handsome features of a determined young man. Ah, the other Redfield, but a bit thinner than Wesker's stock photo. He must've come when he heard his sister was in trouble; an interesting turn of events. Ada knew it was truly Chris Redfield that he despised, not the sister, and that he only wanted her dead to cause Chris pain. So one of Wesker's most hated enemies was only a step behind him now…
She heard a loud splash in the water, and looked up, expecting to see a dangling rope over a broken body. Instead, she saw him still hanging up there, and could hear faint cursing. Apparently he had only dropped his field gear after failing to strap it to his person. She shook her head in disbelief. Perhaps he really was just an amateur.
--
Note: I know this chapter is a bit short, but I have the next 5 chapters already written (no lie!). I haven't really had a chance to go over and edit this section, so please forgive any typos and spacing issues you see. I threw Billy into the story for a small role, and made him a little more anxious than the one we saw in Zero. I tried to throw a few more references to Leon's time in training, and it came out more naturally as a buddy vignette that shed light on Carlos and Billy, so I went with it. Hope you like it.
