CHAPTER 01: LATE NIGHT MEETING

The hallway that would take him down to where the S.T.A.R.S. office was unusually quiet for eight o'clock in the evening, which was something that Chris Redfield couldn't ever recall happening in the five years that he'd been working here. On any given night, it was packed with officers going about their daily tasks. It made him feel uncomfortable, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. There was so much going on tonight, an empty hallway was the last thing that he should be focused on.

With the recent events that were taking place on the outskirts of Raccoon City, his concern always turned towards the civilians who they were trying to keep from panicking as they started their investigation. Two months of inconclusive evidence by the R.P.D. had prompted the chief of police to bring them into the investigation to help. That had been a week ago. Since then, it had been long nights in the S.T.A.R.S. office, discussing motives and dissecting the mountain of evidence that the R.P.D. had collected on their own. All he wanted to do was go home, eat a greasy cheeseburger from Emmy's and get some much needed rest.

Instead, he walked down the hallway and took a turn to the left where he was led through another door into a new hallway that the S.T.A.R.S. office was located on.

Standing at the door was a woman dressed in casual clothes like him and an older man with a full beard. Walking towards them, he saw that it was fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, Jill Valentine and Barry Burton. They were both welcomed sights to see after all the talking downstairs when he'd first entered the police station. With a grin, he came to a stop as he caught the end of a conversation that the two had been having.

"Yeah, I doubt Irons would go for that anyway," Jill joked as she opened the door. "Besides, it'd be a cold day in hell before he ever admitted that Redfield here was right about anything."

Raising a brow, Chris turned to Barry with a confused look. "Did I do something?"

Grinning, Barry shook his head and ushered him into the office. "No," He assured him. "You know Irons. He has it out for everyone in S.T.A.R.S., even Wesker and the two of them are actually on good terms right now."

It was no secret that Chief Irons had little love for the S.T.A.R.S. chapter situated in Raccoon City. As a special forces unit with military training, they held higher authority even than him and if the situation called for it they could flex that authority. He liked being in charge. The power it gave him, was like being a God. Of course, Irons liked to think that he was in charge, but everyone else knew differently when it came to the real problems in the city and it infuriated the pompous fatass to no end. Still, he kept his mouth shut when in the public but always gave them hell once he got them in his office. Chris always found it amusing, but he kept it to himself and they would always make jokes once they got back to the second floor.

The trio of friends split up, Chris walking over to where his desk was at and sat down as the other two did the same. On his desk was another stack of files, no doubt from the meeting that was taking place soon and the captain was going to expect them to all know what was going on. Letting out a groan, he rolled his eyes as a soft snicker could be heard from directly behind him. Swiveling around in his chair, he watched as Jill grinned at him from behind a soft hand as she shook her head in disbelief. She usually got enjoyment from watching him squirm, but it was just another way that the two lowkey flirted with each other so that none of the others in the office would notice. They were horrible at hiding it, however.

Looking around the office, he wondered exactly where everyone else was at. The office held four desks, which they alternated between the shifts and was used mostly by the senior officers of both teams. His desk was in between both Barry and Jill's, each with their own personalized touch to it. The captain was fortunate enough to have an entire office to himself, one of the many perks of being in charge. Off to their right was a communications radio where a member of the R.P.D. would run overwatch when both teams were responding to serious crimes. Beyond their desks was the weapons lockerroom, where all of their weapons and equipment were stored at. The captain had given Irons hell for them spending too much time going downstairs to the lockerroom shared by the regular officers and having to acquire their equipment there. He argued that it was more proficient to have their own storage lockers in their office for easier access when they were deployed.

"Where is everybody?" Jill asked, finally noticing that they were the only ones present.

Barry shrugged. "I talked to Joseph and Brad downstairs a while ago. They were ordering some pizza for the meeting, Antonio's on 5th St."

Jill made a face of disgust. "Ew. That place is way too greasy, those guys are gonna' die from heart attacks by the time they're your age."

Laughing, Barry was going to say more and went silent as the door to the office opened and in stepped Captain Wesker with the Chief hot on his heels. The trio stopped talking as they watched the two men enter the room to their left that served as Wesker's personal office.

Irons was flapping his gums, red faced and waving a fist in the air as muffled shouts of anger bounced off of the small space. To say that he felt sorry for the captain was an understatement. However, unlike Chris, the captain was the one who had to hear the displeasure of his boss. From behind his shades, Wesker's expression was mostly unreadable. Chris knew, though. He could see the subtle twitch of the lip, how his fingers drummed on the table impatiently and the agreements just to move along their chat. Meanwhile, Irons continued to yammer on like the two were good friends and having a conversation over dinner.

"I don't even want to know what's going on in that room," Jill said with displeasure as she pulled over a drawer and looked through it.

"Maybe we should just focus on our paperwork," Barry chimed in. He was looking at his own copies of the report. "Can't slack off and give Irons a reason to call us lazy."

Barry was right.

Picking up the folder on top, he quickly flipped through its contents and skimmed through the reports by the responding officers on the scene. Textbook, through and through. Many of the reports spoke of the unspeakable acts perpetrated by the unknown assailants and of how they were cannibalizing many of their victims. Just looking at the photographs taken made him sick to his stomach. Those poor innocent people going about their daily lives, never knowing that that moment would be their last. Hopefully, they would soon be able to find the bastards who did all of this sick shit and put them behind bars where they belonged.

Over the course of the last three months, their quaint city had been subjected to a horror no one should ever have to deal with. The murders had sent the entire city into a frenzy to quickly put an end to it before anyone else fell victim to it. At first, there had been little evidence to support any connections between the cases. What was reported at first as gruesome animal attacks soon became something else entirely. It didn't take long for the autopsies to come back, revealing that the supposed animal attacks were apparently human. A curfew had gone into effect after the bodies of two children were discovered at Victoria Lake. The populace was now on edge, pointing fingers at local superstitions for a believable answer.

Not that he could blame them. It was a coping mechanism that was noted typically by any psychologist.

Under the paperclip attached to the file was a picture of young Hailey Hedgepeth, the latest victim of the murders. She had been out camping with her parents before the curfew had gone into effect. Not knowing about it, they were helpless to stop the strange people in the forest from attacking them. Chris remembered hearing the wailing cries of the father from the 9-1-1 call. He'd held his dying daughter in his arms as he hid inside their cabin. Unfortunately, by the time help had arrived, the attackers were nowhere to be found. No one should have to go through something like that.

Such a tragedy... he thought as he closed the folder and turned towards Barry.

"Barry, I have a question," Chris asked.

Looking up from his papers, Barry raised a brow. "Sure. What is it, Chris?"

"Why exactly did Wesker send in the Bravo Team alone?" After talking with his friend, Forest Speyer, two hours before and finding out that they were being dispatched, Chris had been wanting some answers. "The only ones with field experience are Captain Marini, Forest, and Edward. I mean their medic is greener than my flak jacket and lacks any form of firearms training outside of the basic gun range training."

Shrugging, Barry leaned forward and tried to keep his voice down. "To be honest, Chris. I think the captain was forced into it by Irons. He wants results, regardless of how they're gotten."

Before he could say more, the door to the office swung open, and in stepped the last two members of the team, Joseph Frost and Brad Vickers. In Joseph's arms were three pizzas, hot from the oven and ready to be eaten by the six of them. Carrying them through the office, Joseph sat them down in the adjacent room that they used for mission briefings. The smell of pizza only served to remind him of how hungry he was. Skipping lunch probably hadn't been such a good idea after all it seemed.

"About time you guys got here, I'm starving," Barry said as he flipped open one of the pizza boxes and stared at the culinary delight it contained. "Pepperoni, Italian sausage, and bacon? My favorite!"

"You know I got ya' back, Barry," Joseph said, patting the older man on the shoulder.

"Don't let your wife find about this," Brad teased as he picked up his own slice of pizza. "Cheating on your diet isn't going to go over well with her."

Getting up there in his age, it had become important to Barry's wife for him to lay off the fast food that he ate while at work. She wanted him to be around when their two daughters grew up and had kids of their own. Eating greasy pizza, double cheeseburgers, and drinks at the Bar Jack's would eventually take its toll on him.

The door to Wesker's office opened, alerting the entire room that the conversation between their superiors had finally come to an end.

Out stepped Irons, still red in the face but looking a lot more satisfied with himself. Chris could only assume he was getting what he wanted out of the captain, regardless of the red tape that was going to be involved down the road. Not even bother to acknowledge the rest of the team, he simply opened the door and left the room. Moments later, the captain followed. As usual, he kept his poker face and walked across the room to where the rest of them were standing.

"What's his deal?" Chris asked.

Cracking a smile, Wesker calmly told him. "He's not used to letting someone else be in charge, Chris. You of all people should know how our dear Chief of Police doesn't like the spotlight being on another person."

Chris nodded.

He wasn't wrong.

Last year when they'd dealt with that group of bank robbers that were breaking into banks all over the country. After getting holed up in the central bank in downtown, S.T.A.R.S. had been called in to assist the local P.D. and Chief Irons had been far from thrilled about it. While briefing them on the situation, the chief of police had tried to pressure Wesker to do things his way. He had told him that it would risk the civilians being held hostage and Irons acted as if he didn't care. One thing led to another and Chris had punched him in the face. It was well worth the two month suspension, especially after being proven right when the hostages were safely rescued thanks to Wesker not following Irons' orders.

"Yeah, that guys such an ass," Joseph chimed in with a grin as he passed a paper plate to Chris. "Probably just constipated is all, he needs to learn to lighten up."

"That's enough of that," Wesker said as he picked up a thick stack of papers from Barry's desk and entered the briefing room. "It's time to begin the meeting."

Everyone took their seats at the round table in the room. On either side of them were bulletin boards that had more information related to the case that they were working on. Some were interviews of sightings on the outskirts of town by the local newspapers. It had been set up the previous day by Joseph and Barry, compiling all of the data that the R.P.D. had given them into one report and organizing it in a way that would make it easy for the captain to show to them.

Wesker sat down next to Barry, passing around another folder for each of them. Dimming the lights in the room, he turned on the projector that was on the center of the table. The slides flickered back and forth as he went through them. They were all exact copies of what was in the folder currently being passed around, but this was so that all of them could see it at once. They needed to all be on the same page. Wesker wasn't one to screw around on an investigation, always on point and leading the charge.

"Okay everyone," He started as he went to the first slide. "We're going to begin this meeting by going over some of the new evidence that has come to light in the last four hours thanks to forensics at Raccoon General."

"There's new evidence?" Barry asked.

The body of a blonde woman had been found on the hiking trail near the entrance to the Arklay State Park. It was the first of many to follow from the beginning of the summer. Her name was Megan Ooue, a local college student who had gone missing several days after the term for school had ended. She'd been reported missing by her parents, but the R.P.D. hadn't been able to find any leads on where she might be. Severe trauma from the loss of a hand and foot had been the determining factor in how she'd died. From the autopsy reports given, she'd been dead for at least a week and decay had begun to set in. Finally, they had some answers as to what exactly had happened to her and maybe a lead that could help with the investigation.

"Yes," Wesker confirmed. "The autopsy reports from Mrs. Ooue are conclusive with many of the earlier reports that the coroner believed to be human bite marks. Rather than that of an animal, they're human like the others."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"So what you're saying," Joseph began, trying not to laugh. "Is that we're all in a horror movie? Am I the handsome protagonist?"

Wesker stared blankly at him.

None of them found his joke to be funny.

Ever the joker, he could brighten up a room with just the right words. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. Instead, his hollow laugh echoed in the closed room and an uncomfortable feeling came over the optimistic man. Of course, this was through no fault of his own. The team often relied on this humor. It was that he didn't know when and when not the right time for it was, usually landing him in trouble with Irons.

"What about the Spencer Mansion?" Chris asked, everyone turning to him.

Sighing, Wesker pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "We've already been over this, Chris. There have been no signs of any break-ins that would show signs of someone living there."

Two days ago, Chris had brought up the Spencer Mansion during their daily meeting and had suggested that the old estate could possibly be where the cannibals were hiding at. The Spencer Estate was a vacation retreat that had been built in the late '60s by the famous architect George Trevor for the wealthy British Earl, Oswell E. Spencer who owned the pharmaceutical enterprise Umbrella. It had been abandoned since the late '70s when the billionaire became a recluse. While a clever thought, to begin with, it quickly spiraled into a heated argument between Chris and Chief Irons. The arguing only came to an end when Irons finally agreed to call and have a friend of his who was on the executive board for Umbrella have someone take a look. They were assured that everything was in order and the mansion had not been vandalized.

Everyone else might've been satisfied with the answer, but he definitely wasn't. He knew they were hiding something up there that they didn't want to public to know about. Whether or not it had anything to do with their investigation was irrelevant. There were rumors that Umbrella did some sketchy business deals behind closed doors. If Irons was friends with someone who worked there, Chris knew that there was no way they could be doing anything good.

His friend Billy Rabbitson had tried to tell him about everything, but he'd disappeared last month after their conversation on the phone. Chris remembered well how panicked his friend had sounded like someone was listening to their phone call and using only words that Chris would remember back from their days in school together. After assuring Billy that everything was going to be fine, he agreed to meet with him at Emmy's later that night. When he got there, he waited for several hours before coming to the conclusion that his friend wasn't going to show up. It wasn't until a month had passed that Chris started to think that Umbrella had done something to him. Without any proof, though, there was nothing he could do.

"That may be true, but can we really trust what they say?" He asked. It wasn't the place for this, but he really wanted the captain to know how he felt.

"Chris does have a point," Joseph added. "How do we know we can trust what Umbrella says? They practically own this city, they could do whatever they wanted and pretty much get away with it."

Wesker thought on this for a moment while the others talked in hushed voices about what Chris had suggested. Chris was just glad one of the others had spoken up in his defense. If more than just himself pushed it, they would have to listen to him. They needed their own confirmation that the Spencer Mansion was clean, not the say so of a corporation that cared more about its stocks than people. Now all he needed was for Barry to speak up and then maybe they'd be able to get somewhere.

"I'll speak with Irons about it again," Wesker assured him. "Okay, let's take a further look at the Ooue death and try to find comparisons with the others. Jill, any insights?"

Jill looked around at the others as all eyes turned to her. She hadn't told any of the others yet, but she did have her own theory about what might be going on. During her time with Delta Force, she'd encountered something similar to what was taking place in Raccoon City. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to share it.

"Has anyone considered the possibility of a cult?" Jill inquired, catching everyone's attention. "The reports given to us suggest that there are anywhere from five to ten people involved in the attacks. Decomposing flesh has been found at several of the scenes, suggesting they're bringing parts from possible unknown victims. As for the animal attacks, similar to Miss Ooue. Perhaps they've trained dogs to attack anyone who gets within the vicinity of their home."

While Jill continued, Wesker pulled out a marker and began writing on the board everything that she was saying. By the time he was finished, he had a mind map linking all of her ideas.

"So what you're saying is that we're dealing with a cult of cannibals?" Barry asked.

Jill nodded. "Yes, but this one seems very different from any on record. They're very unorganized, almost purely animalistic in nature and yet at the same time able to leave almost no trail at all."

Wesker thought about this for a moment, considering her words.

In the late '80s, a cult known as the Father's Family had worked out of two hundred acres of farmlands in Peru. Her unit had been sent in to identify and extract their leader, Julio Guterres. A messy affair that one was and something that still haunted her to this day. Dropped fresh in the middle of a war between the Peruvian Government and a socialist regime called the Shining Path, they'd had to avoid them both so that their mission wasn't blown. Jill had watched several good men die during the operation, but they'd completed their objective and returned home with Guterres.

Guterres had used a substance that the reports had called Loa Dust to control most of the members of the cult. She remembered walking through the halls of the main compound with her squad, looking around at the half naked cultists who were lounging in the rooms like they were in an opium den. Those who hadn't become addicted to the drug were those with unwavering loyalty to Guterres. His lieutenants for a better term. They'd been the first ones to die, either by suicide or by being gunned down by her squad.

"What!?" A voice shouted from the other room.

It was Kevin Ryman, an officer with the R.P.D. and an applicant for the S.T.A.R.S. program. During their meetings for the last week, he'd been allowed to sit in for Brad and monitor the communications relay in case something happened. Standing up, Chris looked in the next room and saw that he was bent over the microphone, turning the dials to try and get a better signal.

"Repeat," He said into the mic. "Come in, Bravo Team? Can you repeat?"

A burst of static came from the speakers, followed by a muffled voice that Chris knew had to belong to Captain Marini, " ...eme...land...tor...even..." The broadcast only lasted for a total of ten seconds before the radio went completely silent.

No one said a word for several seconds, the reality of what they'd just heard settling in.

What little they'd been able to hear through the static, it sounded like they had crashed their helicopter. From what? Chris had no idea. It had sounded like Enrico said something about engine failure. While not impossible he did find it highly unlikely. They had their equipment serviced twice a year. Joseph had just serviced the vehicle last month, if there had been anything wrong he would've known.

"Okay, everyone," Captain Wesker said as he stood up looked around the table. "Stay calm, Vickers I want that bird ready in five. Barry, I want you and Chris to do a quick inventory of our equipment once we're on board. You should suit up as well. Who knows what we'll come across."

Everyone scattered to do their jobs.

Chris followed Barry into the weapons locker room and sat down on the bench. Opening one of the lockers, Barry pulled out two duffle bags and handed them to Chris. Moving to the next one, Barry pulled open a drawer that contained several firearms that were standard use for their operations. Six standard models of the Beretta 92FS, modified from the normal 92F that would soon be replacing the Brownings that the R.P.D. used. Customized by local gun nut Robert Kendo, they weren't your ordinary gun. With care that could only be found in a gun aficionado, Barry picked up the guns and passed them to him to be placed in the duffle bags.

Next, Barry opened the glass cabinet and removed two Mossberg 500 Tacs. Each gleamed in the stale light of the locker room, cared for and ready to be used at any notice. With a wide grin on his face, Barry examined the two guns before handing them to Chris to add alongside the handguns. Once that was taken care of, Chris zipped up the full duffle bag and then joined Barry who was now loading ammunition into the second one. Anyone else would've called this overkill, but not S.T.A.R.S. They dealt with crazy shit all the time and knew that you could never be prepared enough.

"I've got the rest of this, Chris," Barry assured him as he picked up both duffle bags like it was nothing. "You should really go get changed into your gear before Wesker gets off the phone."

While they had been doing their own thing, Wesker had stepped into his office to call Chief Irons. He would protest, but Chris doubted that the captain would care what he thought. Their men's lives were on the line. If there was one thing Chris could say about the stoic, calm personality of Captain Wesker, it was that he did care deeply for his team.

Exiting the S.T.A.R.S. office, Chris jogged down the corridor past several officers and around the corner. A few stopped to say hello, but he continued on towards the lockerroom. Pleasantries weren't a priority for him right now. All he cared about was getting on the helicopter as quickly as possible. Now he was regretting not wearing his uniform, it would've made all of this transition a lot smoother.

The locker room itself was quite small, complete with a row of lockers directly in front of him and a small bench for him to sit on. To his left was another room where the showers were located at. Throwing his knapsack down on the bench he unzipped it and began to pull out the clothing that consisted of his S.T.A.R.S. uniform. A simple white t-shirt with the logo on the left sleeve, olive drab pants, and boots. Wasting no time, Chris stripped down to his boxers and changed into his uniform. Once that was taken care of, he quickly put on the thigh holster that was for his standard firearm. He always hated it as it slightly squeezed his leg muscle, but once he adjusted the straps it all worked out just fine.

"Hey, Chris," A voice from behind him called. Turning, he saw Joseph standing at the entrance to the locker room. He was already dressed. "Wesker said to double time it, Jill and Brad are already at the helipad waiting on us."

"Right, just putting on the finishing touches," Chris told him. He stuffed the knapsack into a corner and joined him in the hallway.

Wasting no time, the two made their way across the station to the helipad.

The door to the helipad swung open with a screech, exposing them to the cool breeze of the summer air. It was still daylight outside, but Chris knew that it wouldn't stay that way for long. Already the hues of orange and purple were being painted across the sky in the distance.

Wesker was already waiting for them with the others. Chris caught a glimpse of his expression under his infamous black sunglasses and knew that it was one of disapproval. They were wasting precious time, but it also wasn't his fault the helipad was on the other damn side of the station. Rather than say anything, he just kept that calm composure that he always had and motioned for the two to join them.

The hum of the engine and the whirling blades of the helicopter deafened the background noise of the bustling city, the captain having to yell to be heard over it. Orders were being given, but they all knew what to do. They'd been drilled dozens of times on how to adequately depart and to check all systems beforehand. Barry and Jill were already in the cabin. Standing in the open space, he joined them and sat down on the bench opposite of them alongside Joseph.

Wesker was the last one to board the helicopter, turning only briefly to give a thumbs up to Lieutenant Branagh who was standing on the helipad to see them off. He didn't wait to see if it had been returned, instead taking his position in the passenger seat up from next to Vickers. The guy gave him a shaky nod, nervous and jittery already.

The helicopter slowly lifted up into the air and took off, passing over the busy city streets below and soon turning into the suburbs where most of the members on board lived at. They were all nervous now, each pondering what exactly could've caused the Bravo Team to crash mid-flight. However, Chris' only concern was that they'd been forced to land near the Spencer Mansion. He knew that it was the source of everything, but couldn't prove it and now was his chance to prove it. There was this unshakable feeling, but also something else, and unbeknownst to everyone on board, by the end of the night, their lives would be forever changed.

End of Chapter Notes:

So, what did you guys think?

I chose to have the story start with them at a meeting because I felt like it was only smart that the Alpha's would be going over the actual case itself while the Bravo's surveyed the area and looked for clues. That and it would make sense they were already at the police station on the grounds that they would eventually be needed once the Bravo's completed their objective. Everything happened rather fast, but we all know it didn't take long for them to crash after taking off from the R.P.D.

Now, I know people aren't exactly keen on the idea of a novelization but hear me out. So far no one in the fandom has completed a series length of novels based on the games. That is my goal here, to write out the entire main series and give it my own spins. They have so much potential for different things to happen based on logical choices and I want to showcase that with stuff we've never seen before. Right now, the only projected entries are The Mansion Incident all the way up to Rockfort Island. Once I reach that long winded milestone, I'll consider the future of the franchise.

Until then, don't forget to leave a like, follow, and review!