"He's gonna fucking what?"

Jill stumbled as we walked her back toward the entrance; I caught her, and my heart started to pound; feeling her lithe body back in my arms was almost more than I could take.

She smiled sadly as I held her up; the light in her eyes was gone.

She always knows.

"Ouroboros is a new bioweapon, you know that much. Wesker is going to use it to see who's "worthy" spreading it to every corner of the fucking planet and whoever survives gets to share what's left."

"Jesus," Sheva whispered, "We have to stop him."

"And quick," Chris added.

Jill leaned into me as we walked; having her so close was making my head spin.

We got to the entryway, and she still wasn't moving under her own power; stumbling again, I held onto her as we settled to the floor.

I looked up at Chris; he shook his head softly.

Can't leave her like this.

"Jill…" I whispered

"I'm fine!" She snapped, fire in her eyes, "Go."

"We can't leave you, Jill," Chris interjected; I could hear the pain in his voice.

Jill shut her eyes, tears leaked out, and all I wanted to do was hold her until the pain went away.

Even though I had a sneaking suspicion that I was the cause. I cursed myself for the half-confession I'd laid on her.

She braced her weak hands on my chest, and I let her push me away, regaining my feet.

"I'll be fine; you need to stop him."

I felt my own tears fall; I reached up and wiped them away, turning from Jill and pulling out my sat-phone. Frank answered after a moment.

"Go for Sparrow."

"Frank, we got her; I need Delta and an extract now. Wesker is about to unleash a brand new bio-weapon on the whole fucking planet."

"Christ…I'll get them tasked and brief the President; what's the grid?"

I rattled off the numbers.

"Got it, ISR is being re-tasked; you'll have what you need. Anything and everything."

"Got it, we're rolling."

"Good luck."

I smiled, "Thanks Frank, been a ride, and it ain't over by a long shot."

I killed the link, turning back to where Chris was kneeling next to Jill, whispering something to her while Sheva stood off to the side.

"We've got evac incoming, Delta is gonna extract Jill, Frank is aware and is briefing POTUS. We're about to have more help than we need."

I could tell that Chris was only half-listening as he spoke to Jill in hushed tones; Sheva nodded.

After a long moment, Jill squeezed Chris's shoulder, and he smiled at his old partner before straightening up.

"Let's go."

I shot Jill one last look, burning her face into my mind. She gave me a haunted smile that didn't touch her beautiful eyes as we walked away.

We crashed a door at the far end of the room, more sterile corridors greeted us; Chris motioned for us to slow up, and we cleared the rooms as quickly as we could.

The last door held a surprise.

"HANDS!" I yelled.

Excella was hastily piling something into two steel attache cases. My 1911 never wavered from her face; I was ready to put her down hard.

She bolted in a flash, rounds pinging off the wall as we opened fire; one of the cases took a hit and flew out of her hand to spill out across the diamond plate.

She slammed the door and was gone.

"Fuck," Chris growled, "I'm getting real sick of her."

Sheva was kneeling next to the busted case, an auto-injector in her hands, " I've got something here."

"Could be samples. Pocket it, and let's keep moving." I whispered.

She nodded, slipping the syringe into a pouch.

Chris wheeled open the pressure door, his Beretta came up.

"Clear, move."

So we moved, sprinting down the corridor and out into the rising sun; a massive container ship sat in the harbor below, ready to begin its journey to the sea.

We were all business as we descended the narrow staircase. Heading for our rendezvous with a crazy asshole bent on destroying the entire planet to see his vision realized.

A regular Tuesday afternoon.

We infiltrated the boat, stowing aboard a container minutes before the launch, hiding out until nightfall. The ship trucked downriver, my still intact GPS told me that we'd crossed into Ghana hours ago; at this rate, we'd cross into the Atlantic in no time at all.

My radio lit up an hour after sunset while Chris and Sheva caught some shut-eye.

"Oxide, this is Sparrow, be advised, we are tracking you. Armed Predators are on station in twenty mikes."

I keyed up, speaking softly, "Understood Sparrow, status on PC?"

"PC secured and is en route to OP Echo outside Kijuju for evaluation; additionally, multiple Special Operations Units have arrived from BSAA in Kenya and are standing by to assist."

I smiled.

Thanks, Josh.

"Oxide copies all will advise. Out."

I tapped Chris on the shoulder, waking him up; he did the same to Sheva, she smiled sweetly at him, and I couldn't help but be happy for them; at least they knew what they'd be doing when we got out of here.

I wasn't sure anymore.

We finally slipped out into the dark, suppressed pistols at the ready. A few dead Majini later and I had a rifle again; the M4 was decked out, I missed my old weapon, but it would do for now.

We cleared the deck, dumping bodies into the White Volta. Moving with surgical precision, nothing on our minds but stopping the destruction of everything we held dear.

I cut a corner and spied a pile of corpses arrayed across the deck.

"Got something here."

I felt Chris lay a hand on my shoulder, the squeeze coming seconds later. We pushed up and fanned out; the small mountain of bodies never moved, blood spread across the deck, the smell was almost overpowering.

"Clear," I whispered.

"Clear."

"All Cle-"

Excella Gionne staggered out from behind a container, the expression written across her face was one of pure pain and horror; her perfect skin roiled and twisted as she approached.

"Why, Albert?" She croaked, all of her artifice gone, this was a woman on her last legs, and she knew it.

Our guns snapped to her as one, ready to put her down.

"Show me your hands!" Chris called out.

Dionne just clutched her stomach, moaning in pain as she barely kept her feet on the rolling deck; I could hear bones cracking as she got closer.

"Drop her!" Sheva shouted.

We fired at the same moment; three bullets smashed into her, knocking her off her feet.

But it was too much to hope that we'd killed her.

The cracking sounds intensified, her form twisting before jet-black tentacles exploded from her mouth, covering her body in the writhing mass before the tentacles reached out, dragging bodies into the horrible amalgamation. The thing grew in size with every body, soon it towered over us.

"Oh, fuck." I whispered.

"MOVE!" Chris yelled over the things screams.

We obliged, sprinting across the rain-slicked deck with the remains of Excella Gionne in hot pursuit. My feet thudded on the steel as we ran; I slammed into the side of a container, taking a knee and boosting Sheva then Chris, jumping to grab their outstretched hands. The gibbering, screeching abomination kept coming, ripping through steel like it was nothing and tossing containers aside.

I kept running, pulling my radio from my gear, "Any stations this net! OGA team Oxide is being pursued by a BOW!"

Sweet music to my ears came a second later, "Oxide this is Templar, Predator times two full load of Hellfires for each, ETA five mikes."

I thanked Frank and God in that order, "Copy that Templar! Stand by for the shot!"

Chris slammed through a pressure door after spinning the wheel; Sheva and I were right behind him, rolling onto the hard floor.

Sheva popped to her feet and offered her hand as the thing screamed outside, banging on the superstructure and leaving fucking dents.

"Jesus, she's angry."

I coughed and spat a little blood from a split lip on the deck, "We've got the air. Preds' have been following us since we boarded; we need to get in a good place to spot for them."

"Do we even have a laser?"

I reached into my almost shredded kit, pulling a hard case out; dents and dings marred its surface, and when I flipped it open, my heart dropped.

The IR illuminator was smashed, the lens in pieces all over the bottom of the case.

So much for saving the fucking day.

I grabbed for my radio and spun the dial, "Sparrow, Oxide is pinned by a BOW, combat ineffective, Templar is on station but we have nothing to signal with, how copy?"

"Sparrow copies, wait one."

The banging got louder, and Chris jerked his head towards the back door that led deeper into the ship. I followed behind him and Sheva, keeping the radio to my ear.

"Oxide, Sparrow, Templar can make a blind pass, they have the BOW in sight. Your team needs to get real small."

"Shit," I whispered, "Chris? Air is rolling in, but we can't call the shot; they're just gonna hammer her."

I waited for his orders just like he'd waited for mine all those years ago in the Mansion.

"Do it."

I keyed the radio, "Sparrow, Oxide copies all, hit them with everything you have."

"Copy that Oxide shot out heads down."

"Heads down!" I called out, and we crashed to the deck, covering the parts of us that the armor didn't.

A half-second later, explosions ripped the air just outside the bridge; the shockwaves felt like a giant was swinging a sledgehammer into the side of the ship, loud clanging and overpressure making me sick to my stomach, followed by the screeching roars of the thing Gionne had become. I spun my radio dial back to the drone frequency.

"Templar, Oxide, BDA?"

"Target is still up, coming around for another pass."

"Templar, it's my call, expend all remaining ordnance on target."

"Templar copies…Rifle."

More explosions, followed by more screaming that slowly petered out into nothing.

"Oxide, Templar, Target is down hard. You're all clear."

I stood, my ears ringing from the barrage, and walked shakily to the door, retching onto the deck as my stomach rebelled.

Fucking "Danger Close…"

Hell waited on the other side; the entire deck was bathed in flame, the melting remnants of Excella were scattered everywhere.

I reached a shaking hand for my radio, "Templar… Delta Hotel, appreciate the assist."

"Anytime, Oxide, Templar out."

"Fucking hell…" I heard Sheva curse behind me, followed by more retching.

"Always a party," Chris added, wiping his mouth and pulling Sheva to her feet.

We staggered deeper into the ship, shaking off post-blast nausea and getting our shit together.

Chris's radio lit up as we rounded a corner; I turned to the BSAA freq to listen in.

"Chris, it's Jill, listen, Wesker, he's just like Kelly, the virus gives him his strength, but it has to stay balanced, too much one way or another, and it'll throw him out of whack. Might slow him down enough to kill him."

I tried to ignore how hollow her voice sounded when she said my name.

"What do we need to do?"

"Excella carried around injectors marked PG67 A/W. That's what you're gonna need."

Sheva had already pulled the syringe from her pouch and flashed it at me; the designation matched. She showed it to Chris.

"We've got it, Jill, we're as ready as we'll ever be."

"Understood…Shove it right down his fucking throat."

"Consider it done."

The radio blinked; someone was holding the PTT button but staying quiet.

…

"Oxide?"

I keyed up, clearing a corner as we walked, my heart suddenly in my throat, "Go for Oxide."

"Mike…I…"

"Jill…Whatever you have to say to me, say it when I get back, okay?

"I…Just be safe."

"Not likely, Valentine…Out."

I let go of the button, struggling to keep my emotions where they belonged.

Chris must have felt it, giving me a look as we stacked on a door; I know he'd heard the conversation, so had Sheva.

I cut off any encouragement, "Not the time Redfield, this is my mess, and I'll clean it up. But thanks, brother, thanks for always being there."

"No worries, man, it's my fucking job."

I smiled, a hand found my shoulder, Sheva squeezed gently, "We're in this together, Kelly. I've got your back."

I nodded my gratitude as we pushed into the communications room. A lone console was still alive, showing the hangar bay that the lower decks had been converted into. A massive aircraft sat silently, racks of missiles loaded under its wings.

"That must be how he's planning to deliver it." Sheva pointed at the pods.

"There he is!" Chris snapped, and sure as shit, there was Wesker, directing the Majini to load equipment aboard the huge plane.

"Where?"

Chris's fingers flew across the console, "Two decks below, aft end. Let's move."

We hustled into the hallway, spying an elevator, and hopping aboard. I tapped my foot as we slowly descended; Jill washed over me, Becca close behind her. It all hurt, and once this was over, I had a date with a bottle of whiskey.

The elevator slowly lurched to a stop, a platform stretched out before us, and at the end…

"Wesker," Chris growled.

"So nice of you three to join me, just in time too. I was beginning to think you'd miss the big reveal." He waved at the plane behind him, "Though I have to say, your persistence is beginning to get…irksome."

It didn't matter that we had our guns on him; in a flash, he was in our shit, kicking Chris back into the elevator, knocking Sheva to the ground with a precise haymaker; I took an elbow in the face, my rifle twisting out of my hands and taking some skin with it as I collided with the floor.

I rolled to my feet and let the virus take me; suddenly, we were moving at the same speed. A vicious grin spread across my face.

Forrest

Joe

Ed

Ken

Rich

Rico

Kevin

Brad

I could almost see them standing around me, their names and faces blazing in my virus-addled mind, my friends, the first people to give me a chance outside my old life.

It was time to let them rest.

My grin widened, and I pushed off with superhuman speed, closing the gap between Weaker and I in a flash, the look on his face was priceless.

I hit him with everything I had, a crushing right hook that knocked his shades off, a knee to the gut, and an elbow cracked his jaw.

He'd done this.

I lined up and kicked him in the face. Dodging his instinctive jab and punishing him for it with a low left that bounced off of iron-hard ribs.

All of it.

He grabbed my wrist and tried to throw me; I rolled into it and threw another elbow strike that pushed him back.

"Well, well, it appears that you've improved since we last met."

I bounced from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder to see Chris and Sheva looking for an opening to inject him.

"Nah, you just really pissed me off, Al. Killing all these people, people who trusted you, everything you've done, were you not hugged as a child?" My voice came out in the ragged rush that I was used to, the staccato cadence of my words barely communicating all of the rage that chased the virus through my veins.

He danced in and kicked me in the ribs; a jab broke my nose; I caught his wrist on the next swing and kicked him in the femur, making some space between us.

"You took so much from us, and all it did is unite some of the most dangerous people on the planet. Special Operations, Intelligence, Mercenaries, they all came together with one purpose in mind…Ending your shit in the most painful way imaginable."

I looked over his shoulder and smiled.

My turn.

I ducked under his jab and threw a right hook, snapping his head to the side, lining up and kicking him in the gut, shoving him backward.

Right into Chris and Sheva.

In one smooth motion, Chris grabbed his arms, and Sheva jammed the syringe into his neck.

The effect was immediate; Wesker staggered, growling moans slipping out of him as whatever was in the syringe did its job. I was waiting for a mutation.

Maybe he'd explode and save us some grief.

None of the above.

After a few long seconds, he straightened up, gutting the effects and staring at us with glowing red eyes.

Without a word, he spun and blasted off, heading for the open ramp of the bomber with frightening speed; I hadn't seen him move that fast before.

Oh great, we gave him uppers.

"GO!" Chris shouted.

I pushed off, cratering the metal as I chased down the blonde douchebag. He killed my friends, murdered innocent people.

He took Jill from me.

I crashed up the ramp, spinning and holding out a hand for Chris, Sheva sprinting after us. Our hand made contact, and I pulled them aboard seconds before the bird sped up, rocketing across the tarmac.

The ramp slid closed, and I checked my kit; the only weapon I had left was my 1911, two mags left.

Not enough.

"We've gotta bring this plane down."

It just slipped out, but the weight of my words took a moment longer to take hold. It felt like someone had kicked me in the gut.

Chris smiled, sadness creeping into the edges, "We've all gotta go sometime; we get to go saving the world."

"Fair trade," Sheva whispered, sniffling.

I hugged both of them, "Let's end this before I change my fucking mind, huh?"

They nodded, I took one last sweet breath, and we rounded on the cockpit door.

"Moving," I called out.

"Covering," Sheva answered.

"On you," Chris added.

We stalked to the door, throwing it open, Wesker came flying out, and the fight started.

We all traded blows; the sheer viciousness of the fight is something that will stick with me until the day I die. We rolled and struck, blood sprayed the walls, for every hit Chris and I landed, Wesker answered with three of his own.

We were going to lose.

Chris spat blood on the floor as Wesker broke my leg with a single kick, the pain flashing through me like fiery lightning. He pulled back, readying a punch that was going to tear my head off.

No coming back from that one.

I drew on all the energy I had left and spit blood in his sneering face.

The plane suddenly pitched wildly; Sheva had taken advantage of the opening and wrestled the bird into a steep dive. Wesker backhanded me and bolted for the cockpit, only to be tackled by Chris, a hidden syringe slamming into Wesker's shoulder.

Wesker began to seize, growling screams echoing of the hull; my broken leg was healing as I dragged it across the floor, into the cockpit; Sheva had the plane in a dive, straight for a volcano that rose out of the sea, the hellish glow of the rolling magma a perfect grave for this final horrible chapter in Umbrella's twisted legacy.

Chris yelled somewhere behind me, and I heard the impact of flesh on metal. I squeezed Sheva's arm and turned back to the beating of a lifetime.

Wesker had Chris by the throat; Chris was punching him in the face over and over again. I crash-tackled our old captain into the wall, hitting every part of him that came within reach—rage flowing through me like the blood in my veins.

"Fucking kill you, you miserable piece of shit!" I punctuated every word with another strike.

"Chris! The door!"

Chris nodded weakly, staggering to the release; Wesker pushed off me and slammed a fist through the wall mere moments after Chris pulled the switch, the door flying out and away from the stricken bird. I wrapped an arm around Wesker's throat, a quick jab to the kidneys to put him off balance, and in one motion, I threw him out of the open door.

I collapsed against the frame, watching his silhouette disappear into the raging inferno below. My bones were healing, far too slowly for my taste. I flashed Chris a weak smile that he returned; the altitude alarms began to sound as my fingers dug for a smoke; Chris held out his hand, surprising me, I lit two and passed him one. Taking one final drag as he did the same.

Seconds later, the bomber hit the ground with a rending screech, and all I knew was darkness.

I just want you to be happy, son.

Jill. Jill Valentine.

Welcome to STARS

I love you, I think I always have.

Somewhere in the mist, a soft voice whispers.

I've got your back, all the way…

My eyes snapped open; the scalding rock I was lying on and the pain it brought let me know that I was still alive; the wreckage from the bird littered the interior of the volcanic rim; judging by how far I was from the fuselage, I was thrown well clear by the impact.

I rolled to my knees, slowly standing up, looking for any sign of Chris and Sheva.

"KELLY!" Someone shouted from the far side of the wreckage.

"CHRIS?" I called back through my ragged throat.

"WORK YOUR WAY AROUND!"

"ROG'! "

I staggered across hell on earth, making my way across shifting rocks, trying to stay ahead of the molten death that surrounded me. My broken body was slowly knitting itself back together, I could feel my right femur grinding, my ribs flared painfully with each breath, the cold told me I was probably bleeding internally, and my right eye was blinking on and off. I expected the virus to kick in a lot quicker, but it seemed to be slow going.

Some small, cowardly part of me wished it would end right there. It would be so much easier than trying to navigate the aftermath.

Slowly, so slowly, I moved, agony laced every step. Chris was checking over Sheva when I approached, a deep gash on her thigh and an arm that appeared to be broken.

"We need evac," He didn't look up as he applied pressure to the wound.

I reached for my sat phone, it was gone, my radio was smashed.

"You got comms, Chris?"

He pulled his radio off and handed it over.

I spun the dial and keyed up, "Oxide to all stations this net," I coughed, spitting blood on the jet-black rock, "Any stations, respond."

Static…

"Any stations this net, Oxide is combat ineffective, we have wounded and are black on ammunition…Please respond."

Sheva reached a weak hand up; I knelt down and grabbed it, trying to reassure her, keying up one last desperate time.

"Any stations this net, this is Oxide in the blind, Jackpot, I say again Jackpot, hostile bird is down adjacent to grid six-one-eight. Requesting evac and support from any available units. Casualties include one CAT Alpha."

I sighed, throwing the radio down, "Chris, I don't… I don't think they can hear us."

He never took his eyes off, Sheva, "Any ideas?"

I shook my head, scanning the rim of the volcano, "It's steep as shit, but we can hack it. I'll help you carry her."

He nodded and stood, getting ready to haul Sheva up.

A voice split the air.

"We're not finished! My dream will be realized!"

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

I spun, and there he was, the clothes almost burned off his body, massive lacerations crisscrossed his exposed torso, but the madness in his eyes hadn't diminished one iota. He was all but foaming at the mouth as he approached.

"Miserable little rats! I should've killed you all in the Mansion! I am a living God, and you dare defy my will?!"

I slowly pulled my 1911, aching and broken fingers flipped off the safety.

"I will remake the world!"

I brought the sights up as he crested the small hill that separated us; his pace never faltered, drawing him ever closer to the wing, towards the missiles, I knew what he was planning, and I'd be goddamned…

Jay's was rowdy tonight, Forrest was singing bad karaoke with a couple of college girls, Chris was hitting on Angie from Narcotics. Joe and his girl, Sarah, sat in a corner; she was draped over his lap, laughing at some joke before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Jill and I were shooting pool.

It was the last night we all had together, but none of us knew it yet.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jill was smirking at me as she lined up on the seven ball.

I shook my head, taking a slug off of my beer, "Just can't believe things panned out. I love my job, love my team, and I love you, Valentine. Things couldn't get any better."

She blushed in the neon light; the seven ball sat unmolested as she tossed her cue and walked over to me, threading her arms around my neck, smiling sweetly as our lips met.

Somewhere in the distance, Forrest finished his set to rousing applause,

Chris and Angie slipped out the back door.

And Joe held Sarah just a little bit tighter.

Rage.

"You will all bow before m-"

BLAM!

The 230-grain hollow point hit him just below his right eye, taking the eye and a good portion of his face with it; he staggered; whatever was keeping him alive, I was going to keep shooting until it couldn't fix him.

BLAM!

Another round smacked into his chest, drawing a line of blood that hissed when it reached the rocks; he collapsed to a knee but kept dragging himself forward.

I brought my other hand up, shaking violently.

BLAM!

The round found one of his arms, and it snapped under the weight. Wesker had stopped talking; he growled as he crawled. I slowly took a step forward, closing the distance.

BAM!

As Chris fired, the smaller report didn't faze me; he walked up until we were shoulder to shoulder, my stalwart friend, my family. It was only fitting that we ended it together.

Wesker took the hit twenty feet from the canisters, the nine-millimeter round impacting under his outstretched arm; I watched it blow out the other side in a spray of blood. He finally collapsed, the combined injuries and the unbalanced virus in his system taking their toll.

Chris and I stood over him, years of pain and rage and loss coursing through us. Wesker's breaths came hard and ragged, his red eyes leering up at us.

"You could never be my equals." He coughed, blood pouring down his ruined face

"You got that right…" I whispered, the faces of my dead friends flashing through my mind, "We were always so much better."

We raised our weapons as one and fired until they were empty, the impacts ripping through Wesker's body until he finally went slack, the light in his eyes fading, one final look of utter disbelief and horror etched on his once sneering face.

It was over.

They could finally rest.

Chris stepped forward and kicked him, rolling his body off the outcropping into the pool of magma below. We watched until he was consumed by the flames.

I staggered back from the edge and collapsed onto the rock; all the fight left me in an instant. For almost ten years, we'd chased him, lost so much, bore witness to more horrors than anyone has a right to.

And we'd finally, miraculously, prevailed.

Chris was next to me in a flash, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, tears running down his face.

It was over…

Jesus Christ.

It was over.

"Sheva," Chris whispered, standing up and hustling back to her. She looked to be stable, but we still had to get out of this shit hole.

I just stared at the spot where Wesker's body had been. All these years, everything we'd given up, any semblance of a normal life. Now we had a chance to rebuild.

"Oxide…Come in…."

I barely heard it, but it was there. I shot up off the ground, pain lancing through me, sprinting for the radio still sitting on the volcanic rock.

"Oxide, this is Sparrow….Copy?"

I snatched the radio off the ground.

"Oxide, come in, do you copy? Over."

"Sparrow, this is Oxide, HVT is E-KIA, I say again, HVT is E-KIA."

Faint cheering came from the background, "Sparrow copies all, evac is rolling in…Nicely done Oxide."

I looked over to where Chris and Sheva sat, a smile spreading across my face.

"I had a lot of help, Sparrow."

The roar of rotor blades drowned out everything a moment later as two Little Birds came shooting across the rim, followed by a fat CH-53, the big bird spinning, the ramp dropped slowly, and I'd never seen anything more beautiful than the team of Marines waiting to pull us aboard.

Chris and I covered Sheva from the rotor wash before he scooped her up. I limped behind them, blood slowly dripping to the ground; I'd overdone it, the virus had limits, and I'd surpassed them. My vision began to blur, and the world tilted, but I kept walking.

By God, I was going to walk onto that bird under my own power.

The Navy Corpsman was already looking over Sheva; Chris had taken up a seat next to them, gently holding her hand. My boots finally made contact with the rolled steel; stepping past the rear gunner, a pair of strong hands grabbed me and pulled me aboard.

"You're alright, OGA, we've got you."

I leaned against the Marine as he half-carried me into the interior of the bird, setting me down in a jump seat; a Corpsman took his place, asking me where it hurt as she started a blood sweep, looking for active wounds.

The helo gained some air, beginning to pull away from the inferno.

No-one noticed the skeletal figure plunging its hand into and through the casing on the last missile.

But we all heard the roar as Wesker was consumed by Ouroboros.

"CONTACT!"

The rear gunner opened up immediately, the 240D spitting rounds into Wesker's mutating form.

I pushed myself out of the seat, skidding to a stop at the edge of the ramp, all my earlier pain forgotten.

I grabbed the Crew Chief, "Not gonna do it! We need heavy ordnance! Radio!"

He passed me his comms as the thing that had been Wesker began to grow, already massive in size; he swiped at a Little Bird and sent it hurtling into the rim, the massive fireball killing the crew in an instant.

"Oxide to any fast air, contact with BOW, weapons are ineffective, requesting support."

Tentacles waved wildly, cutting down the last Little Bird.

"Oxide this is Knight 2-5, flight of four F-18's, full load, no remarks. Call the shot."

Wesker caught sight of our bird and stared straight through us.

I didn't know if he could see me, but I stared straight back as I replied, "Knight, requesting everything you have in the bag, attack direction North to South, you are cleared hot."

"Knight copies all, rolling in, TOT thirty-seconds."

Wesker was closing, tentacles rippling around him. His mad gaze getting clearer by the second.

"Knight to Oxide, weapons loose."

I gently extended my hand and flipped him off, smiling evilly.

Burn in hell, you fuck.

Explosions all but obscured Wesker from view, fire and shrapnel thundered, a final salute to all the death wrought by his insanity. The shockwaves tossed the bird around, throwing us to the deck. I heard a Marine scream as his arm snapped under the weight of his gear.

When the smoke cleared, bits and pieces of Wesker and his misbegotten legacy littered the rocks, a final and fitting end to the man who had almost destroyed the world.

"Knight, Oxide. Great guns, thanks for the high heat."

"Our pleasure, Oxide, out."

The world tilted as my injuries made themselves known; I eased myself to the deck, a blood trail beating me there. The Corpsman came roaring back, now in full "Doc" mode as she swept me, finding all my cuts and scrapes, the shattered bones and bruises.

"You need to lay down!" She yelled over the roar of the rotor blades.

I leaned back, giving her access, a few quick swipes of her trauma shears and my plate carrier fell away, the shredded thing tossed off to the side; my pants and shirt came next, exposing all of my wounds for the world to see.

I reached up weakly and grabbed her collar, gently pulling her close.

"Doc, grab my smokes, please."

She hesitated but nodded, pulling the almost destroyed pack out of my chest rig, all but two broken beyond repair. A soft snap of my lighter and I drew the smoke into my abused lungs.

I could feel my bones knitting, and it hurt like it never had before. I wondered if I'd reached the limit of what the virus could repair. The Doc had started an IV and was typing my blood; mercifully, she'd slid the rolled-up remains of my shirt under my head; it provided some comfort, but not much as the helo bounced on the choppy air.

Chris suddenly filled my vision.

"Hey, brother."

I smiled weakly, "Hey, Redfield."

I watched his eyes glance down my body, tears welling slowly, "We did it, man."

"Fuckin' A, we did."

The Doc cut in, "I'm gonna give you something for the pain, okay?"

I nodded; seconds later, I felt the Ketamine flow into my veins, chasing away the shards of glass that had taken up residence in my insides.

Chris held my hand as the dark rushed in.

A/N: Sweet revenge. Now comes the aftermath. R&R