Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.
Chapter Three: Breakthrough
30 May 2006, 7:20 P.M.
Level D, Theseus Research Facility
HE HAD TAKEN HIS TIME sauntering deeper into the facility, his destination ending at the fourth level. There was no rush. Time was in his grasp, at his own pace.
No one dared choose to cross paths with him. Interrupt him. Defy him. They were below his feet, the very worms they were, waiting fearfully on command and knees. Some sucked up to him. Some wanted to shoot him down in retribution but not enough to gamble away their pitiful lives.
After all, he was in control. Sure, those fat lazy dogs of HELIX Foundations had a say sometimes but it was he who brought out the full potential within this enormous project with nobody standing in his way...
Well...only one proved sometimes a challenge within these walls. But where was the fun without such a character?
He strolled into one of the research labs. Inside, a group of high-rank scientists were rather cheery for the night. The liveliness crashed into a halt once he entered, like a black personification of the end, sucking out all the joy. He eventually got his answer why the early celebration.
Ah...so it was finally reaching the last lap of analysis...
Ten years. It has taken him ten years since he stepped forth into the project. He had been very patient...watching it grow like it was his precious child.
Hm. An amusing thought.
The blond-haired man in black clothes continued onwards to a room in the back, having noted one wasn't in the partying group. With his absence, the merry continued quietly but that didn't interested him the slightest.
He found her standing in front of the large screens, all alone in the quiet computer room. No such jolly across her stiff, tired face like the others in the vicinity.
He spied a twitch on her shoulders as he walked in, but the ash-blond-haired half-Spanish never turned around. On the spot, she had already predicted his clockwork arrival as equivalent to a disgusting vibe that needed to be shaken off. He was 'vaguely' insulted but admitted silently that it was a remarkable sight every time he bumped into her.
After all, on this island, they were both enemies. Outside, only one man, that shrewd BSAA soldier, took that spot. In here, it was the battle of wits but out there, his mind, body and spirit were tested against that Redfield.
On occasions. Not as frequent as that against the half-Spanish .
"You are indeed predictable," Albert Wesker said flatly. "You should be rejoicing to the breaking news."
He stood just next to her, inches away. Despite her indifferent persona as her shield, his very attendance was surely provoking her from the inside.
"And yet here you are with that long frown," he humorously taunted. "What's the status?"
The woman refrained from even glancing back at Wesker. An unpleasant face just merely stared into open space.
"You've already heard. There's no point in me repeating it."
His humming soft hilarity was just pricking at her nerves.
"I'm asking you for the details. No one else."
The calm, manipulated ending tone enforced her in her place. But she didn't care.
"...Zero signs of rejection in the phagocytosis process. All spliced characteristics from previous viruses and parasite have successfully combined with the original variant... If the tests don't show any red flags...we can move on to human experiments with this new variant..."
The blonde didn't steer her eyes to the corners to spy how gleeful he was at her words. She merely tightened them with distaste at the screen.
"Some good news indeed. It was rather disappointing on the last several endosymbionts. How long?"
"Estimated...maybe a week. Or two."
"That is a long number of days. But then," he started, wheeling his shaded eyes on her. "Are you sure that is exact? Or are you just delaying again?"
"One or two weeks. If you want this virus perfect, then you're going to have to give it more time," she steadfastly stated with a strict tone. So it seemed she would continue to delay. "I could have said all that on the phone. Why are you here?"
Straight to the point.
"Oh?" His eyebrows lifted behind his black sunglasses. "After all the time we spent working together and I'm still not welcomed."
She didn't find his sense of humour at all entertaining. Not even open-hearted to his so-called assistance.
Indeed, his visit was...unannounced. It wasn't unexpected that the woman would find this uncalled stay as suspicious. Or any other time he visited the island with or without a call.
"It's strictly business. I'll be staying overnight to go over with my men on new routine plans."
He had been taken by surprise when he received a call earlier today... One of the reasons why he decided to make the surprise trip.
Oh, how would this unfold? It didn't alter his original plan...
"There are going to be some changes around here."
"What do you plan to do with the kiddo?"
It was straightforward, a rather pissed off question. Now, the woman faced him with one of her angry moods again.
Of course. The 'kiddo'.
He always wondered why such a silly, little pet name...
"Why?" Wesker might as well please her for the time being. "You were very supportive of him to accept my proposal."
"Don't play daft with me, Wesker," she hissed. "That transfer is adding him into your damn militia. In South Africa. What are your plans?"
Wesker chuckled. Yes, this was the face he enjoyed seeing. Reminded him so much of another.
"Oh, I'm not too sure myself. He has proven to be an excellent specimen indeed in just one year. Surpassed all of my soldiers. But it's not to impress me." He neared closer to her in a dark and threatening pace. "I know the real reason why you want him to leave."
The woman held her ground, still resisting the urge to hit him or back away.
"Less worry on your little 'student' if he's off this island. You and your colleagues have taught him everything you can so that he can live on his own out there. That is naïve. The world isn't a safe place for anyone. It's not meant for the weak. You, of all people, should know that."
Her body rigidly tensed and her face hollowed with hidden guilt. Yes, it was low. But really, she had to see the same light as he did.
Wesker could not understand this woman sometimes, the rebelling revolution in her so much different from before.
It was much more fun pushing at her buttons back then...
"You can't always keep protecting him, McLenlan," he sardonically whispered into her ear, delightfully sensing the anger, the tension out of the woman's soured expression. "He needs to face the outside world."
There was nothing the woman could do on the spot as he withdrew. A shaking fist but he knew just as much as she did. A punch to the face was useless. Pointless.
She was his puppet. Everyone on this island was his playthings.
Only she was more interesting and entertaining than most. A rather disobedient fighter in white but still within the thralls of his grasp. However, ever since he brought that specimen to the island...he has noticed how less feeble McLenlan has become. How much of a change she went...
Luckily, he'd be changing that fact very soon.
Wesker wheeled to the door, the tailends of his black trenchcoat trailing after him. "Be sure to keep me informed, McLenlan."
He sneered to himself when he heard the fist slam against the dashboard, causing papers to scatter to the floor.
The woman inside took to her breathing exercises. Calm down, she told herself. That's what he wants. She couldn't give him the satisfaction this time.
Not now. Not ever.
A heavy sigh left her mouth as she massaged her strained hazel eyes, her thumb and finger on the frame of her glasses she took off. The blonde put them on again and looked back to the monitors, reading the numbers increase slowly with each minute.
By 7 A.M., it'd read 100 percent.
She furrowed her eyebrows with the utmost determination and bolted out of the research lab, caring less to hear the employees cheer on and question her why she wasn't as thrilled as they were. HELIX would be happy. Maybe give a raise. Extend the project to see what possibilities could reveal...
There was no bloody way it'd be that easy and she knew it was bull.
"I see Wesker had paid a visit again."
She had made her way to a security room, stationed for special ops. The head scientist sighed with relief to meet a trusted face.
There were only so many she could find and trust as allies while the rest, too high-risk for too many reasons. The Australian security captain before her was one.
"Have you heard anything from outside?" she asked and he noted from her quick inquiring that he didn't need to pry further how the talk went between her and Wesker.
"Other than the hurricane coming in two days, no." He raised an eyebrow. "But from your look, you suspect something from Wesker."
She casted a glance, spying the watchful camera eye above them. The Aussie gave a fellow nod and the two left to a more comfortable, quiet and less-prodding area.
The one good benefit for a head director and a security officer was knowing all the weak points of the facility.
"You want my men to tail after him?"
She feebly nodded. They knew the danger was very high. "I'm sending them off to get killed for sure."
He sighed. "I already expect all of us to be dead tomorrow or the day after. Might as well get a head start before they do." He thought causally. "Jacobs and Fuller's shift ended five minutes ago. I can radio them up. Jacobs's been meaning to find an excuse to get back at HCF."
He slanted back to the wall, folding his arms with just as much a tired look as his ally.
"So...how much time?"
She hated being the bearer of bad news. "...Twelve hours. If Wesker plans to get it shipped out soon instead of moving it to human tests...I'd say an extra hour or two."
A nod to her acknowledged the predicament. "I can rally up as much men as I can early in the morning. I'll just say it's a scheduled run. Odell won't suspect anything. What 'bout the backup?"
He was given a sad look.
"No word... I really had hoped this person would get help. Even...come for the kiddo." She weakly smirked. "You think I'd learnt my lesson in getting my hopes too high."
The guard didn't join her sad excuse for laughter. "So we're alone on this one?"
"Yeah..."
The Aussie then shrugged his shoulders with no regret. "Well, we've been alone for this long. Might as well finish it with everything we got. I'll keep you posted."
"Likewise."
He started to take off but in half of his stride, he stopped himself. "Iria. There's no turning back once this plan of yours starts. There's gonna be death, no matter how hard you try to stop it. Are you prepared?"
She sighed. He knew her too well. All too well that she'd been taking in all the responsibility to the point of suffocation. The job came with that. What was to happen next, the guard captain could easily predict this strong-headed woman being chained down with more losses that didn't belong to her.
As far as she was concerned...she had already become an angel of death the moment the head director position was tossed onto her lap.
"Kent. We couldn't turn back the moment we stepped on this island. Why should this time make any difference?"
Claire paced furiously around the insides of the 2-by-4 room. Leon had said that four hours had passed since she was knocked cold but he admitted it was a guess. Their weapons, phones, everything from their pockets had been taken and stashed somewhere in the one-level concrete building.
But wasting their time inside the cells, when she was so close to the truth...
Worse, it was reminding her too much of the past.
"Claire, calm down," Rebecca called out within the same cell, her eyes trailing after her striding partner. Already, she swore she could see crop circles within the wooden floor. "We'll get out of this."
Claire wished she could. But how could she? She was close!
In the next cell, Leon and Vince were a little calmer than the ladies.
"Reckon how many guards indoors?"
"Five," Leon pointed, two on an hour-routine path to check on their prisoners and three not too far away.
Vince frowned and leaned back sluggishly. "I lost count after twenty before we got here. Getting out of here will be tough. That's if we break out of these cells."
Leon examined his surroundings for a third time. "No weak spots I can see. Unless we get the keys, we're not going anywhere."
"So we got no choice but to bunk tonight. Super."
A crackle of an iron door stirred the men up. With a concerned look, Leon got off the dusty bed and to the bars.
"Claire?"
He peered as much as he could but could barely see much of her. He could guess. She had stopped pacing and headed to the bars, hands rattling them.
"How long ago was the last guard, Leon?"
Straight to the point and already planning. But he didn't like this start. "Forty minutes ago."
Quiet. Then she spoke. "I can distract him. Maybe get the keys off him before he notice."
"Claire–"
"It's better than sitting here. And I don't see any keys hanging for us to use a stick and reel them in."
He grumbled quietly. He had expected this behavior. Of course, the woman didn't like staying in one location for too long. She was starting to get ahead of herself all over again.
But Leon had to agree. The longer they stayed here, the more liking they'd be disposed of. Or worse, be used as experiments.
"...Just enough for him to get close to this cell. He'll be too focused on you to see me take him out."
The unsteady sounds of her aggravation settled down. Ok, she was calm. Just a bit.
"Claire, just remember."
She was about to block out her ears. If this was another piece of advice to keep herself focused–
"You're not alone."
That surprised her. The footsteps next door told her Leon wasn't going to go any further, drawing back to his seat.
She softly sighed, banging her forehead at the cold iron.
She did it again. Lost her cool. Claire used every fibre in her to resist laughing at herself.
She wasn't alone. It wasn't like Rockfort Island again.
"Mine, mine, mine."
Her body went cold. Stiff. She had barely heard the new footsteps – first thought was the same guard. Slowly, her wide eyes ambled up to the man with shades, standing in front of her cell with that familiar cruel smile.
"We meet again, Claire Redfield."
Wesker.
The pale man noted her companion inside the cell. Although she couldn't see past the shades, he was surprised to some degree.
Perhaps amused.
"And Rebecca Chambers. Well. This is a reunion indeed."
The petite woman didn't share his enthusiasm. She was more cautious. Shocked to see him.
Seemed like he wouldn't get a welcoming hello from one of his old comrades.
"So sorry for how my men treated you all. Hospitality is not one of their fortes. How long has it been? Eight years?" Wesker then spotted the blond-haired agent. "Ah, Leon Kennedy. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. You were a very troublesome man back in Spain."
"Wesker..." he hissed, gripping tight to the bars.
The spite intrigued Wesker for a little but he still turned his attention back to Claire. "It's truly a surprise to see you here. This island is supposed to be top secret from everyone outside."
He paused with a heavy thought, then lightly leered at his conclusion.
"But I wonder... Was it McLenlan who contacted you?"
A flinch of small amazement flashed on her face. How in the world did he guess that? Yes, he was inhuman but like hell, she'd believe he was omniscient.
The change in her expression, however, pleased Wesker. He was indeed correct.
"How sharp of her. But how... Seems like I'll be spending the night looking over her calls and emails. Still, strange she managed to send help through security." He thought deeply for a moment, trying to come up with possibilities of how the woman did it. However, the thought was quick and Wesker returned to grinning at Claire. "But it doesn't matter."
"What did you do with her, Wesker?"
It was rather an odd question to hear from Leon. And only about this one person. Claire had remembered how much of a small perk Leon gave when she picked out that name from the list earlier.
She thought the same question as Wesker asked.
"Hm. Any relation to her, Kennedy? I don't believe you have any family ties," he stated. "What I did or do with her, it's not of your concern. You should be thinking more of your situation."
It was then that he took notice on the new face.
"And who do we have here? Your rookie student?"
Furrowed eyes, Vince simply crossed his arms, his shoulder leaning against the bars. "And you must be Wesker we've all heard so much about."
Wesker bowed, as if honoured. "Well, my reputation precedes me."
"Sure, top most bioterrorist in the entire globe on our watchlist. 'Course, I imagined someone other than a wannabe man-in-black. Aliens were too much work for you?"
The joke didn't at first bring out irritation but gradually stirred out a soft chortle. Vince straightened up tensely but still kept up his smile once he found himself trapped in a showdown, now face to face with Wesker himself. He couldn't drop his guard down, even if he just signed his own death warrant.
Vince never saw the fist coming.
POW!
"OMFP!"
"Vince!" But Leon was too slow once Wesker's free hand gripped his partner by the throat threateningly, the other buried in his stomach.
"You have quite a loud mouth," Wesker mocked softly to his ear. "May telling me your name, agent...?"
Vince coughed desperately, trying to pull the rolled up hand away but it was in vain. The man was mercilessly tough! Pressing deeper into his diaphragm. "Gah... D-Daken..."
Wesker gave a contented nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Daken. I do wonder if any surprises out of you will be just as tasteful as I've gotten from your partner here. Guess we'll have to see."
With a shove, the agent tumbled down to the floor, clutching his abdomen as he heavily gasped for air. Leon hurried to his side, checking to see if anything broken.
Nothing. Just had the air knocked out of him.
"Damn it, Wesker. What do you plan to do with us?" Leon demanded.
"Truthfully, none. Your arrival was very unexpected. I didn't have time to make any special arrangements for you." Wesker causally strolled away from the second cell. "I suppose you'll have to stay here for a while longer until I decide...something."
"Why?"
It was another odd question to hear, this time from his old ex-comrade. Rebecca's confused and distressed face didn't faze him the slightest but it was still puzzling to him.
"Why are you doing this, Wesker? We worked together," Rebecca hollered. "You were a STARS captain! Our colleague!"
"Rebecca, Rebecca. You made two mistakes. I was part of the STARS. And I was not your colleague. I had far more goals than just sticking around and holding hands with all of you. Captain just...didn't cut it for me. Do you understand?"
She stared at him in complete disbelief.
"Just because we were STARS members, doesn't mean we shared anything. The past is the past. Move on."
That silenced Rebecca, her stunned and pained expression giving him satisfaction. It was indeed a desperate attempt to pursue him to see the light and she had only realized it.
Yes, they had been co-workers but just working in the same station didn't mean anything. Chris, Barry, Jill, the lost lives of her Bravo Team, Rebecca knew them all like the back of her hand but the once captain? None.
So her words meant nothing at all.
"That is the same exact face Chris gave me," Wesker said. "Didn't wound me then. And doesn't wound me now."
He then surprisingly snapped his fingers, remembering something and turning his attention to Claire. He folded one arm to his chest, the other hand now cupping his chin.
"Ah, I had been meaning to say something to you, heart. It's…" He spun his unfolded arm about in small circles, as if reeling his mind to peck at a single old memory. "It's something on the tip of my tongue..." Wesker then grinned again, twisted delight behind his shades. "Oh, yes."
He drew closer, every inch telling Claire's nerves to be alert for whatever he was going to pull.
"Steve lives."
That taunt. It gripped at her to the core. But no sense of hope rose from within her. Instead, the shock slowly boiled to rage.
Because the news coming out of this man's mouth was meant as mockery.
"I told you he'd come back alive. Just as I did."
The brunette lunged forward, teeth clenched and piercing eyes. Her attempt to struggle his throat was futile as Wesker had already backed away in a split second.
Too fast for the slow Redfield behind bars.
"Wesker, if you did anything to Steve, I swear–"
"How touching. You still cared for a corpse after all these years, heart. But you have nothing to worry about. Well, maybe a little."
The wrath thickened. Yes, definitely like her brother.
"If there's one person you should be blaming, it's McLenlan." The stunned change in her face, it was admirably priceless to Wesker. "I was just the deliveryman. The overseer. She was the executor. The one who made him a worthy specimen. Far better than I had anticipated."
Wesker hummed softly to himself. Wonder how all this will play out...
"It's truly ironic. McLenlan contacting you, having worked on good Steve. I wonder what her game is." Wesker's smile grew crueller than usual. "Maybe she wants to ask for your forgiveness. But you probably won't do that. Not to her. Not to me either."
The laughter leaking from his grin was soft but it was spiteful to Claire, Leon and Rebecca. Trapped mice for him to play.
"But then again, forgiveness is underrated."
He had successfully left his mark in the conversation. There was no need to continue. With that triumph in mind, Wesker traded the two watchful guards for his leave through the exit.
"Enjoy the night."
No threats and angry yells were tossed at his back. It would have been wasted anyhow. He continued onwards and out of the little HCF outpost confidently.
Joining him to his right was the captain.
Eager on the spot, hoping to hear a job-well-done from his boss for capturing vermin. The cocky captain with the brightly-dyed undercut, however, held it back in when Wesker didn't speak first.
The wanting was just the captain showing that he was in line. Desperately gaining back the trust he had lost four months ago.
"Should we move them to the facility?" he then asked.
A common question. But to move three familiar faces to the research facility, it made Wesker snicker.
"No, no need, Coté. The last thing I need is them breaking free inside the facility. You have no idea how capable they are. Especially the dear heart and the lion," he pointed. "Leave them here but keep watch. They're awfully tricky little pests."
"If they're that dangerous, then we should dispose of them."
"And lose the fun? Why bother? They're locked up. And I have my best men here. I don't see any problems." Wesker darkly glanced at the captain. "Unless you all prove me wrong."
"No sir," Coté quickly replied. Actually a little too quickly with a hint of nervousness.
"Good." Wesker reached out for the door of the passenger's seat in a readied jeep "Now then, I leave it in your incompetent hands. Everything should be done before the storm. Speaking of which, I must make the preparations for tomorrow."
"And...what would that be?"
Wesker didn't fault him for being a little curious.
"Well...I'm setting up a little game of chess with a friend."
He was looking forward to tomorrow, when the curtains would rise...
The war starts tomorrow, McLenlan.
BAM!
"Claire, calm down!" Rebecca shouted after the now lost-tempered woman kicked at the cell door. The sudden noise didn't unnerve the two guards from their glued spots however.
Claire did no such thing to calm down. Instead, she went back to her pacing. This time clasping through her hair in frustration like a bad habit. In her mind, all she could think was that nothing was going her way. We're locked up. Wesker's here. And tomorrow's the deadline.
The small prison section became quiet. Leon was busy further checking if his partner alright and luckily, Vince was. Just knocked out on the floor that Leon had no choice but to move him to the lower bed.
"Who's Steve?"
It wasn't loud enough for their friends or the guards to hear but just enough to make Claire wheel back stiffly and hastily.
"He's the real reason why you wanted to come, right?" Rebecca asked.
Her insides twisted and shoulders sunk down. Claire felt guilty. "Becs, I-"
Rebecca raised a hand to stop her and sat down, not at all offended. She knew Claire all too well, to the point when Claire got causal, emotional or relaxed, she'd call her Becs.
"I get it... I also had someone I had hoped to meet one day."
The words eased Claire's anger down and eventually, she moved closer to sit beside for this girl talk.
"Did you ever-"
"Look for him? No." Rebecca shook her head. "Actually, if I did, I'd probably arrest him on the spot instead." She chuckled lightly, diving into her old memories for a moment. "So...what was this Steve like?"
A smile flashed at the remembrance, then strangely with a roll of the eyes. "Pretty ignorant at first. Arrogant. Bigmouthed. Always runs into everything before he thinks."
Ok, Rebecca didn't expect those as answers. But somehow, she could relate.
"But...he had his moments. Seemed to know when to drop in and save the day for me."
A frown consumed the smile on Rebecca's puzzled face. "Had?"
Claire's expression followed suit, but much sadder. "He... He didn't make it..."
The one last thing she needed was pity from Rebecca but it couldn't be helped. However, Claire didn't go on into more details and with that, she respected her in silence.
How it happened, Claire remembered it very clearly.
*/*/*/*
In that Antarctica Base, she had found the redhead slumped in a chair, a huge axe restricting his chest. She watched in vain as Steve's body tremble and twist. A large, monstrous version of her friend, his mind lost to the virus and the one who gave him that infection by needle. She had run away to stay alive from him, screaming and wielding that axe at her.
Tentacles burst out from the ground and caught her, preparing her to be skibob for the pawn.
But at the moment the axe held up high, there was a glimpse of humanity in those red eyes.
The axe swayed down but to one of the tentacles, freeing her.
In retaliation, the tentacles stabbed through Steve.
Tears fell. She screamed out his name and hurried to his side, his horrific form deflating back to his human self.
At near death, he gazed up to her in a trance. He gladly smiled.
"I...I love you..."
*/*/*/*
The stinginess of those final words wet her eyes. She swallowed, mentally doing everything she could to keep her emotions in control.
"He said...he was sorry that he couldn't keep his promise...and that...he loved me..."
The quiet seconds droned on mercilessly. On the seat they shared, Rebecca could see how much the death of another got to her. Words didn't need to describe it. Rebecca had experienced that too.
"You must think I'm horrible now." Claire tried to fight the tears with a laugh but that failed horribly. She quickly wiped her eyes before the water could fall. "I didn't come here to help these people. I... I just–"
"Claire, you told me you sent the email to TerraSave. You asked me to help you rescue them. Why would I think you only came for one person?"
"Yes, but–"
Rebecca shook her head, stopping her again. "I don't see why you can't save everyone. Including Steve."
Claire wasn't convinced.
"Wesker said he is alive."
She sniffed out a laugh. "Yeah, but as what? Human? Rebecca... Steve was infected with a virus when he died. And Wesker..."
The thought of Steve coming back as that giant mutated form again dreaded her. If that was to happen again...
"But he's alive. And if he needs rescuing, then we'll do that. If he needs a cure, we'll find it. Claire, Leon is right. You aren't alone on this one."
"Why are you always so optimistic, Becs?"
Rebecca simply shrugged her shoulders. "I just am."
The remark managed to bring back Claire's smile. That was good.
"Do you love him?"
She didn't reply straight away. It had caught her off guard but then, Claire thought for a moment. Really for a moment.
But came up with no answer.
"I...I don't know... I cared for him. I still do. But..."
It had been so long. Did she love him? Maybe, back then in that short moment. She had moved on. She was prepared to search for a dead body to bury. Prepared that he wouldn't come back.
And now this...
"All I want is to get him back," Claire admitted truthfully.
"...Well, you'll just have to find out when you meet him, won't you?" Rebecca said with her cheery smile. She leapt off the seat and patted the dust off her bottom.
"Becs... About what Wesker said about Iria... Do you think she had something to do with Steve?" she asked difficultly. "She was the one who sent me all those documents. And about the virus."
That surprised Rebecca. "But Leon said–"
"Anónimo was just the messenger."
Claire watched the petite woman think for a moment. She knew she had sounded horrible, talking about one of Rebecca's idols as if McLenlan was a villain.
"...There was something my professor told me about Carme. She and her sister always had a habit of reciting quotes. And he told me this when I messed up one of my assignments. 'May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you're going and the insight to know when you've gone too far'."
Claire's eyebrows rose. Interesting, long quote.
"He thought the quotes were their way of guiding themselves. I think he was right," Rebecca explained. "I don't know if Iria did or didn't do anything to Steve... But I don't believe she's a bad person."
It rose a good point, making Claire recall something recent.
A quote, huh?
'There is not a wise man without fault. We all have got our weaknesses.'
A habit of reciting quotes. Sounded like the shared habit she had with Chris. Well, not really like rushing into the cause like heroes, head in the game. Oh, the days they pretended to be like the comic book superheroes when they were kids...
Claire looked up to the small window above her as Rebecca scowled at the guards, no doubt already planning a way out silently.
The sky was pitch black but much clearer than the cloudy nights in Weston. Stars were beautifully out.
It was a pleasant night to ponder. Sure, they were in jail. But as for now, all they could do was wait for an opportunity. And hopefully soon.
Weaknesses... She thought back to the quote and she had to agree. Lately, she had been showing her weak side, getting emotional when she shouldn't.
Inhaled. Exhaled. No more.
Fuelled with determination, Claire stood up.
There was no way she was stopping here.
31 May 2006, 11:27 A.M.
Bolívar Outpost, Cape Inacio
The opportunity hadn't come yet but the morning had certainly roused up. At dawn break, most of the HCF guards outside had dispersed off on jeeps. Even, the captain was gone. As far as Claire could see, they headed off to one direction – north, south, east, west? She wasn't sure, if she didn't know where the outpost was located.
That didn't mean the cells were left unattended.
Vince had woken up sometimes ago, still having a little difficulty breathing but overall, still good enough to fight and eager to break out.
The morning commotion had gotten their interest.
"Rebecca, you hear anything?" Leon asked.
She squeezed as much as she could through the bars, lending her ear out to overhear the talk outside. The ladies' cell was the nearest to the exit, next door probably being a common room or a place of operation.
"Something about an incident. They're sending more guys over to take care of it." She turned back to Claire worriedly. "It sounds like a war out there."
Claire bit hard on her lip. "It's starting." Pushing away any dreadful ideas of innocents getting killed or infected, she hurried to the door, hands on bars. "We got to get out of here."
"The sooner, the better. We've overstayed our welcome." Vince hissed, slapping his neck and glancing down to see a now squashed mess of wings and goo. "Stupid mosquitoes. Don't suppose you girls have some hairpin to picklock our cells?"
"UGH!"
"What was that?" Rebecca uttered, hearing the dying sound from afar. The four tensed in their cells. Waiting for the guards to come for the strange noise.
No guards did. Instead, coming into the picture were two new faces – one Caucasian and one Indian. In body armor and uniforms but not as the same as HCF. Their logos simply said "security", along with the HELIX's symbol. What was more, their uniforms were very dark blue.
"Who are you?"
The Indian, carrying a set of keys, rushed over to the girls' cell. His partner guarded the entrance, hand ready on the gun.
"No time to explain. We're here to help."
Bzzt! "Fuller, come in!" The call from a walkie-talkie on the second man's chest distracted all of them, even the Indian just about to swing the door open. The officer, Fuller, reached for the device and clicked the button.
"Read you. We got the prisoners."
Shots fired from the other end. Fuller glimpsed back to his partner with fright.
"Williams!"
"Infected loose! I repeat! Infected loose! You got to get to the South-East underpass pronto! Shut off the exit before they have a chance of getting out!"
"Roger that. We'll–"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Before Claire's wide eyes, blood projected backwards from three holes in the man's body, dropping dead.
"Fuller!" The Indian wheeled around but by the time he raised his gun, anything not protected by his body armor was filled with iron.
No!
With a dash, Claire swung out and swiped for the gun. Her appearance was a surprise to the guard down the hall and before he had a chance to fire, she took him down with a headshot.
BANG!
"Hang on!"
She turned back to see Rebecca on the floor, tending to the garrotting officer. He had more bullets than his friend, but was barely clinging to life.
Claire spotted the keys and quickly pitched them to Leon, who caught them easily. "I'll get an aid kit–"
"Gah-n-no..." The Indian's broken words stopped her from leaving. "T-Too late for me... Y-You...have to go... The facility... Everyone's..."
"Don't talk! You're going to be fine!" Rebecca desperately looked at Claire. "Get the first aid kit! Now!"
A gurgle, both laughter and blood filled, escaped from the Indian's mouth. The smile, however, faded. "I-If you meet C-captain W-Williams... T-Tell him...Jacobs and F-Fuller didn't make it."
"No!" Rebecca snapped, still keeping pressure on the bleeding wounds. "Don't say that."
Jacobs ignored her plead. Or maybe he couldn't hear anymore.
"H-He'll...know what to do..."
One arm, having clutched to Rebecca for support, fell. The body went limp in her arms. Cold. Dead eyes staring into the ceiling.
Their rescuers were gone.
"No... No!"
It was Bravo team all over again.
She quickly laid Jacobs down and began pushing his chest in a rhythm with CPR.
"Rebecca," Leon called out, a hand on her shoulder. The two men had already gotten out. "He's gone."
After the twenty-second push, Rebecca reluctantly stopped.
Two people, even if they knew nothing of, were dead because of them.
The thought seized Claire at her heart.
*/*/*/*
The Iraqi desert sun. The thick smell of gunpowder and iron. The shouts of English and Arabic.
The shade of red stained on sand.
Chaos.
But only one thing was on her mind.
The blood-soaked body of an olive-skinned woman in her arms.
A TerraSave member.
"Hang hold, Yasmin! We'll get you out of here! Just hang hold!"
It was a frantic attempt. She had tried to drag her friend away from the battlefield. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing a stone home of a family not too far away but the journey seemed too long.
"C-Claire..."
She turned back to her dying friend.
"I-I'm sorry..."
*/*/*/*
"Claire? Claire." The loud call snapped her out of her trance of fresh memories. She turned to Leon, the caller, who stared at her with concern. "You ok?"
"Yeah... It's nothing."
It wasn't nothing. The pale face told him otherwise but he didn't press on.
"Fuller, Come in."
Hearing a beep sound, Leon kneeled down to one of the dead bodies and shuffled out the walkie-talkie. "Hello?"
"Who is this?" the Australian voice demanded. "Where's Fuller?"
He glanced down to the officers with a repentant face. "I'm sorry... They didn't make it."
"Shit...Tell me you got the bastards."
"Yeah," Claire said. "What's going on?"
The sound of gunshots, however, could be heard.
"Hello! Can you hear us?" Leon yelled.
"You're at Bolívar Outpost. Fuller should have a map." With that in mind, Claire patted into the pockets and pulled out a piece of paper, circles and names marked in red. "Head back to town."
"What?" she uttered.
"From the sound of things, there's trouble. We can help."
"It's a death trap here. We can't let anyone or anything in or out!"
"I don't like the sound of that," Vince admitted.
"Leon." Claire was already examining the map in her hand, trailing a finger from the outpost location to a circle all to the left, where a lagoon was. "The facility isn't that far. We can get there."
"Negative!" the voice spoke. "If you're talking about the actual place, it's bloody underwater. Only access is the main entrance and eight underpasses. And we're trying to close them off!"
"There!" Claire pointed at a much closer spot to the outpost. "This has to be that underpass you mentioned."
The sound of struggle was heard but was shortened with a punch. "Are you crazy! ? I just said it's a bloody death trap! HCF has one foot here and is going to put the other on the town. All my men are split up everything, trying to stop them while the rest of us are trapped, trying to contain these freaks of nature from getting out!"
From all that, the four could guessed. Whatever was happening at the facility, HCF had entered there to take control. Meaning lives inside was getting lost, with freaks of nature loose – no doubt a.k.a. infected specimens.
"You got this chance because of those two. Don't make their deaths be in vain."
Leon glanced around to his teammates before turning back to the walkie-talkie.
"How bad is it in town?"
"Fights are a mile from town. They're pushing HCF as much as they can and telling up civilians to stay indoors."
"What about the facility?"
"Flamin' hell! I just said–"
"Which one's more important?" he demanded. "Tell us! Which is a higher priority?"
"...The facility. If any of these monsters get out and infect the population, then it's over."
"Alright. We're heading there. We're the closest you got, right now."
"Bunch of twits... Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you," the voice groaned. "If you're coming, might as well get your name."
"Special Agent Leon Kennedy," he introduced.
"Officer Kent Williams. One more thing."
"Yeah?"
"Kill as many HCF wankers as you can."
The call ended, never giving him a chance to say an answer. But looking down at their dead saviors, Leon was sure to give their common foe a one-two.
"Will do."
During the time of the call, Rebecca had closed the dead men's eyes humbly before covering them with blankets. A means of respecting the dead.
Vince reached out a hand to Rebecca. "Come on. Let's give them a thing or two."
Wiping away the tears, which only added a red smear onto her face, Rebecca took his hand and was helped up. She was ready.
All four darted from the cells. Thanks to Fuller and Jacobs, they had taken care of the remaining guards in the building.
"Here." They found their possessions on a table. Rebecca was the first to reach, taking and passing handguns to her teammates before gathering her med pack.
Once everyone was set, Leon gave the order. "Let's move."
"Hold it right there!"
A HCF soldier circled around the corner, assault rifle up.
Vince was faster and closer. Out of the blues, he did the same trick he did to Rebecca in El Delmor. Swiftly pulled the rifle out of the soldier's hands but this time, locked the rifle around his neck.
"Stop him!" came out another shout.
BANG! BANG!
Shots were fired but Vince veered round, using his captive as a shield. The man took all the bullets, none of them drilling through the back and into Vince himself. Leon and the girls swung out their guns and leapt forth, firing at three more HCF men dead.
"WHOA!"
The holler made the trio look back to suddenly see Vince be grabbed from the front by his supposedly-dead hostage and flung over.
"Vince!" Leon yelled.
Vince stared horrified at the soldier. How? He was shot by his own comrades. One at the bulletproof vest and two at his openings. He had thought the HCF soldier had died in his arms and dropped his guard down.
Smoke sizzled out of the bleeding bullet holes. Up close on the ground, Vince had only noticed. The uncanny glowing red eyes staring back at him as the man restrained him with abnormal strength. Still breathing. Still very much alive and ready to kill him.
BANG!
A headshot to the back from Leon and the HCF soldier fell down.
"Watch out!" Vince gagged, noting the three bodies ahead rising up and taking aim again.
Everyone fell into cover. The outpost was filled with flying 7.62 AK and 9mm rounds.
"Come on out, your fucking bastards!" one of the soldiers yelled with vengeance for his death.
"Dammit! It's not going to be easy," Claire uttered.
"It never is," Leon added and flew out of his cover.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The foursome made their way towards the main exit once they cleared out the way, Vince battle-ramming the front door open with his shoulder. The heat of the tropical sun immediately greeted them in the empty dirt lot.
"We walk or drive?" Rebecca asked, pointing at a few lone vehicles.
"Prisoners are escaping!"
"We shoot our way through," Leon replied as a handful of soldiers appeared.
"This is the place," Claire said, looking up from both the electronic and paper maps.
It was a seven-minute rush, making their way through the thick jungle and firing down HCF soldiers left and right. The team found themselves into a clearing, consisting of a small polished-white concrete building fenced up with watchtowers.
Only, it was deserted. No HCF guards on post.
"Doesn't look like an underpass."
The concrete building was like the outpost – one floor. From first impressions, however, it looked like a standard facility, protected with ID card scanners.
And they were right. With an elbow into the glass panel, Leon opened the door and they walked to see rooms filed with scientific equipment, charts and vials.
"This is where the virus's being developed?" Vince asked, curious to see how under-protected the building was in keeping a dangerous infection from escaping.
Rebecca neared to one table in one room, spotting a few papers laid out next to a row of potted plants.
"No. These documents are about the island plants..." She skimmed further. "Research on medicinal properties and all but no virus."
"Something tells me this lab is just a cover-up from the real deal," Claire pointed.
"Here's something... 'Paralytic agent update. Perfected substance from Black Curare plant to quickly slow down specimens in case of emergency. Risk of asphyxiation and neurotoxin poisoning still problematic if large doses but the drug has been useful to save specimens from being eliminated after escape. We cannot afford to switch to another alternative drug.'" The more Rebecca read the documents, the more her interest sparked that she searched about the table.
"So it's both for show and for work," Vince said.
"Here!" The petite held out a light tranquilizer gun and loaded the darts in.
"Should you be taking that stuff? We don't know this stuff."
"You don't but I do. I had been trying to work on effective paralytic drugs on the undead for a while now."
"Hey, over here."
They left the laboratory to find Leon at the end of a hall, a set of stairs going down through the floor.
Look." Leon pointed to a sign with bold red letters and an arrow pointing to the opposite. "Emergency Exit."
Slowly, they descended downstairs into the darkness. For a while, they had to rely on their flashlights to make their way.
Claire grasped her handgun tighter. "Do you hear that?"
Sobbing.
"Yeah," Leon replied.
"This is looking a lot like the start of a horror movie," Vince admitted, feeling shivers down his spine.
"Ugh. Kind of wish you didn't say that," Rebecca grumbled. "Now I'm reminded of that Japanese ghost movie with the camera..."
They went onwards until they came across a heavy-duty automated door ajar and red flashing light streaming out its gap.
They circled around the door and Leon swung a finger as a hushed signal. The two men used their strength to push it open and all charged in slowly.
Inside what seemed like a section into a seemingly-endless tunnel was a man with a white coat on his knees. At both his sides lied three dead corpses as he wept with another in his arms. Emergency red light spun above them, no doubt the news giver of a passing disaster.
"What happened here?" Claire got no answer.
"Sir?"
The stranger did not look back and continued crying softly. Moreover, his ears and sides of his head had been scratched many times. Did he kill these people?
"Nicole... Nicole..." he sobbed.
The behavior was normal, not that of a zombie – which sluggish and senselessly ravenous for human meat. Slowly, they drew closer.
"You are alive... After all these years... I thought you were dead..."
"Sir?" Leon tried again.
"She's there... She's right there..." The man madly pointed at thin air as if the person of his interest was standing before him. The spaces between his words began to lengthen. "...Don't you see her?"
Slowly, every second rising the hair off the team's necks, the man turned...
...and stared at them with complete black eyes, nearly sunken into his face. Pulsating purple veins across his pale non-deteriorating face.
And in his mouth was chewed flesh, torn from the neck of his fallen friend.
"Oh my god," Rebecca uttered with wide eyes.
Zombies, she remembered how they looked. So did Claire and Leon. The walking undead with skin rotting, glass eyes and dried blood from their eaten victims.
The person before them looked like he was between alive and dead.
Zombie didn't quite catch it. It was more like a hungry ghost.
The man glared angrily at them and stood up, his hands reaching for his ears with irritation. Scratching at them. Tearing at them.
"Who are you...?" he demanded, grabbing for a baton from the floor. With a press of a button, the stick electrified. "Stop making those sounds! Who are you! ?"
"Stop," Leon warned, holding his gun up. "I said stop!"
It was as if normal consciousness was moving the man but his actions were nothing human. His walk, though tired, was nothing like the clumsy limping of a walker.
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT THAT NOISE! AAAARGH!" He then sprinted towards them with a rose of the stun baton.
"STOP!"
BANG!
The man's head flung back with a bullet pierced through and his body dropped back. Leon had no choice. He was armed, about to attack, his mind deranged.
"What was that? Is this what a zombie is?" Vince could barely grasp what he saw.
"Something's different. He...he acted human," Rebecca pointed.
"Yeah, and I've seen this before. Back in Spain," Leon explained. "A village was infected with a parasite. They acted almost normal and fine but they were just hosts–"
A choke startled them back to the fallen man.
Eyes widened at the scene on the floor.
The body convulsed violently as if it was burning from the inside. Skin crumpled off like peeled off paint and fell like ash, cracking away to reveal hideous black and red muscles, from the head down to the toes. Now the dead man looked nothing but a manifested skeletal silhouette of his former self.
Black eyes turned blazing bloodshot and teeth bore as he rose back up. A low growl misted out of him.
Now that was a zombie. Sort of.
"Is this anything like what happened in Spain?" Vince choked.
Leon didn't answer. His eyes were huge from shock.
Nothing from his past prepared him for the horror show before him. This was nothing like the villagers infected with the plagas.
More groans echoed as the rest of the bodies lifted themselves up. To their surprise, the corpses managed to muffle out broken ghastly words as they stared at their visitors with confused, mad and fearful faces. As if they were more afraid of the living than the other way around. Some struggled, clutching shut their ears for a moment.
Like "You're not him" or "her", "Who are you?", "Stop the sound," and most of all...
"I'll kill you."
"Shoot them!"
They didn't need to be told twice by Claire. They let the bullets fly.
The sound of fire brought more towards them from the tunnel. Few fell and stayed dead. Some went through the transformation of darkening and arose a second time. The third time those shadows fell, their forms dissolved away into dust.
"Vince! Lock the door behind us! We can't let them out!"
"Got it!" The second agent hurried back to the heavy duty door. Noticing a console nearby, he hopped over and slammed on the button.
"Unable to close underpass door. Facility power level at minimum. Please manually close door." A mechanical voice of a woman echoed within the section.
"What! ? You got to be kidding me!"
Claire rushed over to the door, leaving the two to continue the battle. "What are you waiting for! ? Come on and help me!"
Vince joined the brunette to the door and together, they hurled it close. It took a while, the door feeling like a ton but they managed it. On the door were a wheel and extra knobs, their color and size looking significant important. The agent gave it a spin and hit the buttons, hearing triple locks click and air vacuuming out.
Above them, a light turned green.
"Manual lock engaged," the voice from above spoke.
"Well, Claire," Leon droned. "There's no turning back."
"Wasn't planning on it."
Enemy Data
HCF Soldier
Based: Human
Created via: t-virus infection
HCF, also known as the Hive/Host Capture Force, Soldiers are highly trained soldiers under the direction of Wesker and infected with previous viruses Wesker had collected and used on himself, mainly the t-virus. They are quite similar to Wesker but not at his level, having superhuman strength and sharp senses. HCF Soldiers are human in body armour at first glance – the only dead giveaway is their red eyes. They are, however, more resilient than a normal zombie and take longer to kill. Non-helmet soldiers are more likely to be easily killed with a headshot. They are skilled in using all sorts of firearms and hand combat, having complete awareness and control over their viruses to fight.
Upon death, they do not show signs of mutation...yet.
Originally, the HCF was established to locate and retrieve newly discovered viruses and hosts under Albert Wesker during the late 1990s. Recently, a portion of the private military is stationed in Cape Inacio while the rest has dispersed into working in TRICELL, still under Wesker's command. To the public of Cape Inacio, they serve to help civilians from venturing or getting lost too close to the east as half of the island is well-known to be very dangerous. In actual fact, the HCF are to ensure that anyone not an employer or employee is to discover the Theseus Research Facility and the secrets inside.
*/*/*/*
Shade
Based: Human
Date of creation: 2006
Types: Various, Darkened
Purpose: Infection
Shades are creatures created from humans infected with the Kronos virus and serve as one of the primary enemies in Resident Evil: CODE Kronos.
In appearance, Shades are mostly human except for their blackened eyes and discolored skin tones with visible purple veins. They behave and look almost like humans, being able to talk and move. However, they are unable to perceive normally, mistaking nothing as something or something as a threat. If such a threat, Shades will become hostile and attack, more out of fear than mindlessness. They will use melee weapons and firearms if threatened and are in some sense, fully aware. Shades come in different looks: scientists, officers, staff, townsfolk, etc.
Shades in this primary form are between life and dead but have already lost their sense of morality, control of purposeful behaviors and decision making. This indicates that their sense of perception is warped by the virus. Because of these certain losses in the brain, they also have resorted to cannibalism like common zombies and without any awareness they are cannibalizing. This is more likely to spread the disease and/or use the consumed tissue to regenerate decaying tissue. There are two common things about Shades. One is that they see a hallucination, presumably a dead loved one. The other is hearing a certain "sound" that only they individually can hear, which gives the possibility of a hive mind taking control over them. They show irritable behavior from the sound, desperately trying to block it out but in vain. Shades have a tendency to claw at the sides of their heads and ears.
A second version of Shade is called a Darkened. Shades have a dangerous chance of being reanimated and undergoing a spontaneous mutation after being killed. Their skin 'cracks' off to reveal black and red tissue underneath, making them look like walking shadows. They lose complete control and consciousness at this point, no longer talking or being absolutely aware like their counterparts. They are certainly not weaker and unintelligent, despite their looks. A Darkened, combined with a level of intelligence or being under the influence of a hive mind, can worsen a situation. They are more dangerous in the dark and the only indication of their presence is their glowing red eyes. If killed again, a Darkened does not reanimate again.
The name, shade, is common in old literature and poetry, where it is the spirit or ghost of a dead person residing in the Greek underworld. In Hades' underworld, the souls of the dead still existed but were insubstantial and they flitted around the underworld with no sense of purpose. Their lives in the underworld were very neutral and inactive as compared to their lively days. The dead were considered irritable and unpleasant. They grew angry only if they felt a hostile presence near their graves.
The image of an underworld where the dead live in shadow is common to the Ancient Near East, in Biblical Hebrew expressed by the term tsalmaveth, literally "death-shadow".
Game Objections:
-Fight HCF hostiles.
-Go to the Underpass.
Vickie: And now we have our first two types of enemies. :D What you think of Shades? The description for the Darkeneds was also partly inspired by Persona series. C:
It took some work on my enemies, based on the virus idea I created. I actually didn't plan on exploring into Greek mythology but ended up discovering shades and the dead in the underworld in the wiki. After that, I thought of using Greek mythology as my base for my enemies so it's kinda like going back to the days of Umbrella naming their specimens with Greek myth names. Lol. Yeah, it feels overused but I can't think of any other to use.
Could have used Norse mythology but…hm. Not too sure.
Anyway, we have one more chapter left of this first game chapter (I hope). What happens next the further they go in? And what is this chess game Wesker plans? Who knows. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. :P Throw out your theories how you think this will unfold.
I will say, this chapter has been the least-troubling (I didn't have ANY PROBLEMS with holes inbetween or pacing out) and the most fun to write. :D Also the parts from CODE Veronica, I've written them in a way they refer to both the PS2 version and Darksides Chronicles. So, whichever your pick.
I've got a question btw. If you guys read above, ash-blond-haired half-Spanish, this is one I'm not too sure. This character is actually part Spanish (Galician) and part Irish sooo what does that label as? I mean I myself get Eurasian (cuz I am one) as being Asian and Caucasian. Just the above mix, I'm not too sure. TELL ME IF I AM WRONG OR RIGHT.
I also plan to make a second fanfic that is relation to this one. A fanfic consisting of documents that give more backstories about CODE Kronos. It's like how you, as players, go collect documents and read them in your spare time. Ahhh, the old days of Resident Evil. If you guys would like that, I'll try to get it up. For each chapter I've written, I'll write a certain number of documents you would pick up.
Hope you all enjoy this chapter and I'd like to greatly thank those who recently favored and fav alerted this story. :D Please read and review and look forward to the next chapter!
Also threw in a reference. Guess which horror game I wrote about. :P