Disclaimer: I do not own the Resident Evil series or the characters (I wish I did, I'd certainly be a lot richer than I am now if I did own them!), I am just a fan who likes to write the kind of stories I like to read. Thanks for reading – I promise there isn't too far to go now. PS. In case you Resident Evil fans didn't know already, I've discovered that Capcom are realeasing a feature length CGI movie at the end of the year called Resident Evil: Degeneration...and it will feature Claire and Leon. How cool is that?

Chapter 17 - The Outsider

''What you're doing here is wrong. It's not natural.'' said stern masculine voice. The words echoed through a large, brilliantly lit room characterised by white washed walls and an impeccably clean white tiled floor.

''I can assure you Mr Carter, that all that is going on here is perfectly legitimate scientific research...''

''Legitimate research?'' Carter's voice rose as his face turned red with barely controlled fury. ''You know what happened in Raccoon City!"

Carter took a deep breath and changed his focus to a tall, middle aged man in a dark green military uniform who was standing to his right. "And you! You, General Keller, were the one who practically gave authorisation for deployment of the nuclear warhead to destroy the city after the T-virus infection couldn't be controlled.'' He shook his head fervently. "I'm closing the Alaska research facility down."

"Just think about this. We are this close to…"

"Close to what exactly, Dr Badley?" His voice became high pitched.

"…to creating a cure for almost anything. We can make the human body repair itself a hundred times faster than normal. Just imagine the possibilities…for the military…" Elisabeth looked into Carter's deep set eyes. "We can create an army that doesn't get tired, doesn't get injured…we can save lives."

Elisabeth studied James Carter. He was a handsome man, possibly in his mid-forties, with cropped dark brown hair peppered with grey. He had large, expressive brown eyes and a strong jaw. He was dressed smartly in a well-tailored dark grey wool suit. He had an elegant air that could only be gained by a man from a privileged background. She knew everything about him even though she had barely spoken to him. It was probable that he was educated privately and attended an Ivy League University where he would have attained academic mediocrity but a high social status. He would have been groomed by his powerful father - a state senator - for a career in politics and the upper echelons of government or business. He would have married a beautiful but vapid woman from a similar background and they would produce handsome but equally vapid children who would carry on the family legacy. Everything was gifted to men like James Carter - they were destined to have a successful, privileged life without the hard work. This infuriated Elisabeth - he was a man in a position of power that could appear on a whim and destroy everything she had spent the last few years working on.

Carter shook his head and laughed, seemingly incredulous at her inability to understand his misgivings. "But at what cost Dr Badley?"

"At what cost?" General Keller interrupted. "It doesn't matter how much it costs, Mr Carter. If there was something that would let me have a night of unbroken sleep, knowing that my wife is safe, that my children…my grandchildren…are safe…then that price is worth paying."

Carter took a deep breath, steadying himself. "This isn't the way General." His voice was calm now. "You and I have seen what happens when you experiment with nature. No matter how good your intentions are, you must know that this kind of technology can be abused. I'm sorry, but I've made my decision."

"When I put on this uniform Mr Carter, I have to make decisions every day that most men wouldn't. Or couldn't. I have had to send men out into the field knowing that they are going to die. I have sent men to their deaths whose wives I know, whose children play with my grandchildren. And for what? Do you think that when I tell these women that their husbands died doing their duty for their country and they died a hero, it really matters?"

Carter looked down, his shoulders slumped. "No, I suppose not." he said quietly.

"You're damn right, it doesn't matter."

"But I still can't let you carry on with this General. I don't know how you managed to keep this so quiet for so long. It's wrong. "

"Wrong?"

"You're a General because you choose to make those decisions. If you are unable, or unwilling, to make those decisions anymore, then maybe you shouldn't be wearing that uniform." Carter said.

"Why you arrogant…"

''I'm leaving for Mexico City in the morning but I promise you General Keller, I will file a report on what I've found here, and I will do everything in my power to shut this operation down. Permanently.''

"But your father…"

"I don't care about my father. His business interests are no concern of mine."

James Carter then turned to face a third man in the room who had been a silent observer up until that point. He was a much older man, balding with a small pair of round-framed glasses perched on the end of his long, crooked nose.

"Mr Harvey, please write this down."

The third man pushed his glasses further up his nose before he withdrew a notepad and gold pen from his leather briefcase. He looked up expectantly at Carter, the gold pen delicately balanced in his short, fat fingers.

Carter swallowed and paused. "After inspection of government research facility number 6734H, it has been found that illegal and immoral activities, unsanctioned by the government, have been taking place. It is recommended therefore that the facility be closed and all research data and equipment be impounded, subject to investigation. Signed, James Carter. Date, 22nd June 2002."

Mr Harvey gave Carter his pen and the piece of paper to sign, which he did with a flourish. He then handed the page to General Keller.

Keller snatched it out of his hand. "You can't do this."

"I already have General." Carter replied curtly. "Be thankful that I'm not going to the criminal authorities. You could go to prison for some of the things I have seen in this laboratory."

Carter nodded to his associate and they both turned to make for the exit. He stopped when he heard the sound of paper tearing.

"I'll send you another copy." Carter said. He then turned to face his colleague whose face was expressionless. He nodded and they left the room, leaving Elisabeth Badley and General Oscar Keller alone. They stood in stony silence, digesting James Carter's departing comments.

Keller sighed. "I knew this was going to happen." He slumped backwards to lean against the wall. "I was really hoping to fend them off until Lazarus was further along...and we could put up a more convincing argument."

"This isn't how it's going to end." Elisabeth replied. "I've spent the last four years working on this…and I'm not going to let some spoiled suit with no understanding of reality wipe away all that hard work."

"There's nothing we can do." Keller sounded defeated.

"I need to finish this General. For you it's just another project, but for me…if I don't finish this…well, I'm…"

"I know your predicament Elisabeth, but you only have yourself to blame for that." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do now. He's gone. He'll be in Mexico City by the morning and he'll file his report.

"Maybe there is something we can do to change his mind."

"Listen to me Elisabeth; I suggest you move on, while you still can. I know there are a number of organisations out there keen to employ you – maybe you should take them up on their offer. They certainly pay a lot better than the government."

Elisabeth ignored him. "Carter doesn't think they're any good. Maybe if we showed them in action...he'd realise what we've achieved and change his mind."

"You're not listening to me…"

She stepped forward and Keller's hand fell off her shoulder. "We can send a small squad on an operation to Mexico. Just across the border so that there are no political issues. Maybe we can set up a narcotics raid or something…" She smiled, seeming to get excited with her idea. "Yes! That's it! That's perfect!"

"What if he isn't interested in seeing the squad in action?"

"We…make him interested."

Keller's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Taking someone against their will is a federal offence. Going to prison would be the least of our problems if anything went wrong."

"How else can we get him to see what the soldiers can do?"

General Keller began to pace the room. His hands were clasped behind his back and he unconsciously chewed on his bottom lip as he began to formulate a plan in his mind. "I don't know…too many things could go wrong."

"No one will get hurt. This is the kind of operation that they're trained for."

"But they haven't been on a mission yet. We don't know exactly how they'll respond…you know there are a few issues with their psychological profiles."

"Then this can be their first mission. A test if you like. Nothing can go wrong."

Keller stopped pacing and stood in front of a large reinforced glass window at the far end of the room. He looked through the window into the adjacent room which appeared to be laboratory. Lined up against the walls in the laboratory were a number of transparent cylindrical vessels filled with clear fluid, each approximately two metres in height. The figures of men could be seen suspended in the fluid in the midst of a tangle of tubes.

"Okay Elisabeth. Let's do it. But if this goes wrong…"

"Nothing can go wrong General. They're…perfect"

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Elisabeth opened her eyes with a jolt and felt the cold hard floor supporting her pain-racked body. Her clothing was damp and she could sense strands of hair lying uncomfortably across her face. She was looking up at an indigo coloured sky punctuated by pin pricks of light. As her eyes moved from left to right, iron rigging came into view. She realised with a start that she was still on the oil rig and not in the comfortable, familiar surroundings of her old research laboratory in Alaska.

She tried to move but didn't have the strength. Her body felt heavy although her senses felt strangely heightened. She could hear her own breathing - shallow and fast, the cold air stinging her lungs with every inhalation. She could hear the sound of the waves lapping against the large metal structure, and an open door that was caught by wind and banging gently against its frame somewhere in the distance. She could hear footsteps, maybe twenty metres away. Their pace seemed to quicken as they got closer and louder. She was gripped by panic.

With a massive effort that expended every ounce of energy she had, Elisabeth pulled her arm off the floor and felt the front of her shirt. She flinched, momentarily losing focus, as she felt a sharp pain that originated in her chest and moved upwards into her neck. She realised she had been shot. Her breathing gradually steadied itself, and she managed to roll her head to the side in an effort to better survey her surroundings. Elisabeth gasped when she saw the outline of a bloodied body lying inert on the floor next to her. It was Chris Redfield. A single, warm tear formed in her left eye and flowed down her cheek leaving behind a glistening trail.

"Chris!" a disembodied female voice shouted, piercing the darkness.

Elisabeth realised the heavy footsteps were now less than a couple of metres away before everything went out of focus and she was taken by the darkness.

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Elisabeth sighed with contentment as she felt the warmth of the early afternoon sun on her face. Her feet sunk down into the thick, lush grass of the sprawling lawn that covered the grounds in front of a massive early nineteenth century limestone building. She re-arranged the heavy polyester gown with the decorative purple sash that she wore over her best suit, and scanned the crowd of similarly-attired people for a familiar face. Her eyes rested briefly on the temporary stage that was erected on the lawn, and the countless rows of wooden seats arranged to face it. Towards the back of the stage, a large banner read 'Class of 1998' in large red letters.

"Congratulations."

Elisabeth spun around and smiled. "I'm so pleased you could come." she said excitedly to the tall, blond-haired man standing in front of her.

"I wouldn't want to miss your special day." he replied. "It would appear that you are the youngest person ever to graduate from this university with a doctorate in genetics. You should be very proud of yourself."

Elisabeth shrugged. "Genetics isn't as popular as it used to be…"

"Ah…Elisabeth" a voice interrupted.

A short, slightly rotund man with crazy grey hair materialised in front of her. He smiled warmly at Elisabeth and then looked across at her blond male companion. He held out his hand.

"I'm Gerald Friedman – I am, I was, Elisabeth's tutor. Are you her…father?"

Elisabeth laughed, slightly embarrassed. "No! No – he's a…friend. He's helped me a lot with my research."

Gerald's hand was hanging uncomfortably in mid-air while he waited patiently for the other man to shake it. However, the blond man's hands remained fixed at his side.

"My name is Albert Wesker." he said bluntly. Gerald flinched at Wesker's openly hostile response. However, he quickly brushed him aside and turned his head to face Elisabeth once more.

"You must promise to stay in touch. The university needs more young scientists like you. If you ever want to come back and take a research post – I can guarantee you the funding. You have my word."

"Thank you Dr Friedman, that means a lot to me."

"You can call me Gerald. But seriously, stay in touch."

"I will. I promise." she smiled.

Gerald returned the smile and quickly scanned the ever-increasing crowd of people that were now enveloping the grass.

"Well, I have to do the rounds." He looked at Wesker. "It was nice to meet you Albert."

"Likewise." came the stony response.

"You take care of yourself Elisabeth." Gerald Friedman said before he disappeared into the throng.

Elisabeth crossed her arms.

"That was a little rude." she said to Wesker, half-heartedly scolding him. "He was trying to be nice."

"You've known me long enough now to know that I don't do small talk. Besides, I think he's a pitiful excuse of a scientist. He has no vision."

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows. "He might not be involved in groundbreaking research, but his heart's in the right place."

"There is no place for a heart in science."

Elisabeth rolled her eyes. "Let's get a drink." she said, pointing to a white marquee erected behind the stage in close proximity to the limestone building.

Wesker nodded and they began to walk slowly across the grass towards the marquee. He grew a little impatient as Elisabeth seemed to be stopped every few steps by a fellow graduate or member of faculty who offered her their best wishes.

"You know, I've been thinking about what I'm going to do when I get back to Raccoon City…"

"You aren't going back to Raccoon City."

Elisabeth stopped dead.

"But why can't I go back? That's where all of my research is."

"There is a new placement for you at a government facility in Alaska."

"Alaska?"

"Yes. There's a laboratory there with an opening for a geneticist. You'll be able to carry on with the Lazarus project without hindrance."

"But I don't want to go to Alaska. It's…cold." she whined.

Wesker stared at Elisabeth, slightly bemused. He sometimes forgot that the ferocious intellect belied her young age and the immaturity that went with it. She had graduated with a PhD at only eighteen years old. Wesker was fully aware that she could have graduated several years earlier, but she was held back to avoid drawing attention.

"There isn't a place for you in Raccoon City anymore. You're too valuable to go there now."

"What does that mean?"

Wesker resumed walking. "You sound like a petulant child."

Elisabeth resumed her pace and quickly caught up with him. "Okay, I know, I'm sorry. It's just that Alaska is not really a place that I could ever see myself moving to."

"It's a good laboratory. You'll be able to make a lot of progress there."

"Okay, I'll go. But…"

Elisabeth froze, suddenly paralyzed by a blinding pain behind her eyes.

"Elisabeth?"

"Just another headache." she said through gritted teeth. "It'll go away in a minute or…argh!"

She felt light headed and her legs gave way. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back, her fingers digging into the thick grass. As her vision returned, she could see a number of concerned faces looking down at her. She groaned and raised herself onto her elbows.

"I'm…I'm fine." she said to one of the worried faces.

"Just relax." someone said.

"No really, I'm fine." she repeated, trying to push herself up to a seated position. "It's hot today and…"

The pain returned even more intense than before, and she slid backwards onto the grass as everything went black.

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''Chris! Chris! Look at me! Open you're eyes! Chris!'' a voice pleaded.

Elisabeth's eyes flickered open. She felt the ground beneath her. It wasn't grass anymore – it was cold and hard. She could no longer feel the sun on her face, moreover her skin was stung by a cold, damp chill. Slowly, she pushed herself up to her elbows where she saw Claire Redfield who was knelt down next to her brother. His eyes were closed and his face looked calm, the usual furrowed brow was relaxed and his jawed was slack. His arms lay spread at his side, while the palms of his open hands were facing upward.

"Claire…" Elisabeth whispered.

At the sound of her voice, Claire slowly turned her head to face Elisabeth. Her face was a mask of barely concealed rage. Her eyes narrowed, her pupils were barely visible between the slits.

"I'm…sorry…I…I…" Elisabeth murmured.

Claire began to breathe heavily, her chest heaving. She clenched her fists so tight that her knuckles went white.

"Claire…"

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted you." she spat. "Everything was a lie. Everything!"

"No – you don't understand. I…" Elisabeth coughed up blood that splattered across her chest. She wiped away some stray drops that settled on her chin. "I had no control over this...it wasn't me…" She coughed again, her whole body seemed to convulse as she did so. She quickly recovered and then sat upright.

Claire smirked while shaking her head. "Right. And that wasn't you I just saw holding a gun to my brother's head?"

"No…yes…I mean no…I'm losing control Claire."

Claire reached to the handgun that was holstered by her hip. She stood up slowly, feeling the strain in her thigh muscles, so that she was looking down on Elisabeth. Claire studied the other woman's face – it was deathly white and crosscut by a series of thin, spidery veins. The only colour on her skin was provided by smeared patches of bright red blood. Her lips were blue, her eyes virtually disappeared into their sockets. She looked barely human.

"I don't care about you." Claire said quietly. "Chris may have seen something in you…but I don't."

"I never expected you to care." Elisabeth replied. "But I said I was going to help you bring these people down…and I will do that."

Claire held up the gun and pointed it at Elisabeth; her finger was poised on the trigger.

"Please Claire…not yet." Elisabeth held her hands up in front of her in submission. "Not yet. Not when you're so close."

Claire wavered.

Elisabeth placed her hand against a gaping wound on her chest. She then looked at her blood stained hand and laughed. It was a pitiful laugh that quickly turned into a long, protracted wail.

"This won't do it." she muttered as she struggled to get to her feet. She stood still for a moment, seeming to gather herself, before she took a laboured step in Claire's direction.

Claire took a step backward. "You're one of them, aren't you? You're infected too."

Elisabeth's shoulders twitched and she took another step forward. As she looked at Claire, Claire noticed that her face seemed to change, almost like a shadow passed across it. She suddenly lunged forwards, her arms stretched in front of her. Claire sidestepped and swung her right leg, hitting Elisabeth on the side of the head.

Elisabeth staggering backwards. There was a horrendous crack as her head struck the ground and a growing pool of red liquid appeared beneath her hair that was now hanging loose around her shoulders. Claire tentatively took a step forward, while tightening the grip on her gun. She was aware that her hands were shaking. She looked down at Elisabeth whose eyes were closed, her body lying limp on the floor. She prodded the body with her foot. There was no response, but she knew she wasn't dead. Right now, her body was healing itself, preparing itself for the next attack.

"Damn you." she snarled as she aimed her weapon at the other woman's head.

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''What do you really know about me?''

''I know that you're intelligent, devious, well-trained, probably a liar…but you need our help because you got out of your depth.''

Elisabeth was sitting on a stool, her elbows resting on the large stainless steel table in the S.T.A.R.S headquarters kitchen. She was drunk and slurring her words. Across from her on another stool sat Chris Redfield.

''Ever since I can remember, I was the best at everything. I did well at school - I was practically a genius, I excelled in sports - there was nothing I couldn't do."

''So you're just going to sit here and tell me how great you are? Then how come thing's have ended up so bad for you?''

''You see Chris, I was arrogant enough to think I was naturally smart, gifted in fact, but all I am is someone's fucking science experiment.''

Elisabeth pushed a folder across the table towards Chris. He opened the folder and looked down at the bundle of papers, skim-reading those on top. Keeping his head bowed down, his eyes looked up to focus on Elisabeth. She seemed to be having some difficultly staying upright on the stool, and her head was rolling on her shoulders.

''I thought he'd picked me out, realised that I was special, that I was capable of great things.''

''Who?''

''Who do you think? Wesker. Albert Wesker. They made me. Wesker and his friends. They designed me to be what I am.''

Chris, his brow furrowed, continued to thumb through the papers. They were old - some of them were faded and yellowing. The surface of a number of black and white photographs was cracking. ''It doesn't feel too good, does it?''

''What?'' Elisabeth snapped, just before taking a mouthful of coffee from the cup that Chris had just given to her. It tasted bitter. She was starting to feel a little nauseous from the alcohol she had been drinking, and struggled to swallow.

''Someone screwing with your life.''

''He was the only man to take an interest in me. What I could do with my mind. Not what I looked like. I loved working with him. He was a genius - he helped me take my research forward in ways I could never have dreamed of. Well, that's what I thought anyway. How wrong was I?'' She was unconsciously clenching and un-clenching her fists on the table. ''I want to hurt him Chris. I want to make sure that man ruins no more lives.'' she added in a whispered tone.

"Aren't you afraid anymore that they're going to kill you?''

''You know as well as I do that I was dead the moment I walked out of that laboratory and into this school. I underestimated my opponents, so I lose. Sooner or later, someone will get to me. It might be one of theirs. It just could as likely be one of yours. It's only a matter of time.''

''Finish that and get some sleep, it's late.'' Chris said, glancing at his watch. ''I'm going to need you tomorrow.'' Chris made for the door. ''No more games.'' he said over his shoulder.

''No more games.'' she repeated.

Chris turned the handle and stood in the doorway. "Tell me the truth. Is Jill going to be okay?"

Chris turned slowly to face Elisabeth, who was still struggling to drink the coffee. Elisabeth was surprised at the soft tone of Chris's voice. She could see real concern in his eyes.

"You care for her don't you?"

Chris looked down at his feet. "Jill's a good friend. I've known her for a long time."

"But you really care for her, don't you?"

Chris didn't answer.

"That's why they took her. They knew what she meant to you."

Chris looked up. "What are you saying?"

"You - the S.T.A.R.S - you were getting too successful. The organisation was taking too many hits, losing too many good people, too many…projects. They needed to distract you."

"Distract me?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't they just kill me?"

"Killing you would make you a martyr. There are too many people that follow you now. Killing you wouldn't demoralise the S.T.A.R.S; it would make them stronger, more determined. You see, for six months, you did nothing but search for Jill. The organisation led you to places they wanted you to go…their rivals. And you doggedly chased down every false lead, every scrap of evidence…and while doing that, you alienated yourself from your team, your friends…and your sister."

Chris took a deep breath. He knew she was telling the truth. For those six months while Jill was missing, he had become virtually oblivious to everything, and everyone, around him. He had become distant, spending most of his time alone in his office. He ate alone, slept alone – and even when on a mission, he preferred to work alone. He suddenly felt very stupid – he'd behaved exactly how they had wanted him to. He'd been played, manipulated, to do someone else's work. Chris felt his blood pulsing through his veins. He clenched his fists and smacked them into the door.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he said, the quiet tone of voice barely concealing his anger.

"You want me to tell you everything? Well I will, but I can't promise you'll like it."

Chris unclenched his fists and let them drop to his sides. "So answer this. For how long did you know where they were holding Jill, before you came to us?"

Elisabeth looked down and closed her eyes. "A couple of months."

"Months?"

She opened her eyes and looked up. "There was nothing I could do. Nothing."

"Oh, I get it now. Jill was your ticket out."

Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders. "I had to get out of there Chris, they were going to kill me before I could finish... Look, I needed help. They'd track me down in no time, and I thought you were the only ones who would understand. But I knew that I had to give you something in return, to make you trust me enough to help me. So I gave you Jill back."

"You cold hearted bitch." Chris shook his head in disbelief at her callousness.

"You wanted the truth Chris, well, that's the truth."

Chris walked around the table, again shaking his head in disbelief at what she was telling him. He suddenly stopped dead and stared hard at her. "Did you use Lazarus on her?"

Elisabeth looked down while fingering the handle of the coffee cup.

"Did you?" Chris shouted, making her jump. She knocked over the cup spilling the dark brown fluid across the table. "Answer me!"

"I don't know what happened exactly. They brought her to my lab and she was badly injured. She was as good as dead. I couldn't let her die like that…I'm not a monster Chris."

"You just needed her alive!"

Elisabeth stayed silent.

Chris snorted. "So you decided to use her as a test subject?"

"That's not what it was like. I knew it could work…"

"How did you know?"

She sighed. "I have to show you something."

Elisabeth raised her right hand to her left eye and removed a coloured contact lens. She blinked as her eye watered. Then she looked directly at Chris. He stared at her, lost for words as he noted the bright red colour of her iris.

"I found out at university - on my graduation day believe it or not - that I was dying. I had an inoperable brain tumour. I was eighteen years old, and I probably wasn't going to see nineteen. Oh, I did the rounds, I went to see specialist after specialist – but there was nothing I could do. It was a waste of time."

"Do you want my sympathy?"

"No Chris, I don't expect you to care. I just want you to understand."

Chris walked around to the far side of the table and perched on the edge of a stool. He leaned forward, resting on his elbows. "Go on."

"I wasn't ready to die. I was ready to do anything to beat it. I'd been working with a team at the Umbrella facility in Raccoon City, while doing research for my doctorate."

"Raccoon City." Chris muttered.

"Yes. That's where I initially developed Lazarus. I made the decision to test an early version of Lazarus on myself."

"Did it work?"

"I'm still here aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked. Did it work?"

"I was…cured. If that's what you could call it. But I didn't have the antivirus back then. Lazarus has irreversibly bound with my D.N.A, and can't be inhibited."

"So you're..."

"Yes." she nodded sadly. "I'm like them. I used Lazarus before I really understood how it worked, or how to control it. I don't know how long I have. But it's going to happen. I'm going to change. Back at the facility where Leon and I got caught in the explosion and I hurt my leg – I felt something shift inside me. Inside my head. I don't know how to describe it, but..."

"Why are you telling me this? I should just kill you right now."

"Because you need my help. I want to bring Wesker…and this organisation…down just as much as you. I'm going to help you as much as I can, for as long as I can. And then…" she paused as her voice cracked.

"Then what?"

"You'll have your chance to do it. What you – and everyone else in this building – has wanted to do since I got here. And you have to do it, because if you don't…I'll try to kill you. I'm sure of it." Elisabeth laughed. "All this scheming to get out…and I'm going to die anyway."

Chris stared at her, dumbfounded. He knew from the beginning there was something wrong about her. He just sensed it. Leon had sensed it too. But it wasn't really Elisabeth he was concerned about.

"What about Jill? What's going to happen to her?"

"The antivirus worked for Jill. That's the truth. There's likely to be a small percentage of people for whom it won't work…Lazarus will bind with their D.N.A just like with me…but there's nothing I can do about that."

Chris slapped his hands down on the table. "How do I know you're telling me the truth? You've told so many lies…I'm not sure whether to believe anything you say."

"I've got nothing to lose now Chris. What's the point in lying? All I ask is that you let me finish it. The organisation has been using Lazarus - because I gave it to them - but they don't how to control it."

"Not like you do, right?"

Elisabeth nodded. "They're going to create an army. And the world as we know it...it'll be over. We have to find out where they are. Soon."

Chris took a deep breath as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen door. "You aren't to tell anyone else about this."

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning on it."

Chris nodded. "Go to bed. Sleep this off. We've got a big day tomorrow."

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Claire was looking down the barrel of her handgun at Elisabeth's unconscious form that was lying on the rig floor. She moved closer to look at her face. Her eyelids were twitching rapidly – Claire reasoned she must have been dreaming. She then looked at the most recent wound on Elisabeth's chest. It was a gunshot exit wound that she herself had inflicted a few minutes ago. However, she could see that the wound was already beginning to heal and the blood was beginning to congeal around the circular hole in her shirt. Realising that her gun was useless, Claire put it back in the holster by her hip. She then reached for an incendiary grenade that was attached to her belt.

"Claire – not yet." a pained voice called out softly from behind her.

Claire snapped her head around and smiled.