Chris woke up to find Jill's head on his shoulder, and was glad to remember they had simply fallen asleep talking. They were sitting on the couch, and the bucket of ice cream sat at their feet, about an inch of thick, chocolaty liquid in the bottom. Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he shifted so he could look at his watch. Just before seven in the morning.

Jill's eyelids slowly opened, and she looked around before stretching and yawning. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven."

She stood, yawning again. "Better get ready for work. You still carry a change of clothing in your car?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be out of the shower in a few minutes." She walked away.

It wasn't the first time Chris had fallen asleep at Jill's house, but it also wasn't the norm. He got up and began rummaging through the pantry for something similar to breakfast. Healthy stuff, healthy stuff, Top Ramen, bingo. Pop Tarts. He ripped open the shiny packaging and placed the pastries in the toaster.

Jill was out in record time, and Chris grabbed his clean clothing before taking a near scalding shower. They headed out.

Chris stopped by his apartment, letting Claire know everything was okay, and waved at Marvin Branaugh on his way past the investigators' offices.

The S.T.A.R.S. room was packed with all eleven of the branch's members, and Wesker began talking as soon as Chris had closed the door.

"Irons has finally given us the Victory Lake District cannibal murder case. The RPD will continue with their investigation, but we are officially part of the team now. Our temporary job will be to gather all the information we can and formulate our own theories about the killers. In the event that the case is not solved by July, we will spearhead the investigation on the ground. I trust you won't mess this up. Bravos, you're dismissed. Alphas, get to work."

The day ground by at a snail's pace, and Chris was glad to be done by the time five o-clock rolled around. Didn't help that it was getting warm and the air conditioning had died. Jill still was a bit down, but last night seemed to have helped. That and the opportunity to really do something about this case.

"Hey Chris, you want to pick up your sister and head to Emmy's?"

Jill looked at him hopefully. He supposed it was about time he hung out with his sister more, and he was really hungry… not to mention it looked like Jill needed some time to just hang out and have fun.

"Sure. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."

One corner of her mouth turned up in the beginning of a smile. "Sounds like a plan."

Outside, the sun had warmed everything in its yellow rays. A few wispy clouds hung in the blue sky over the foothills of the Arklay range, and the air smelled fresh. A couple flies buzzed around lazily. Raccoon's joggers and bikers were out in full, and some kids played in a backyard while their mother sat watching them. It was one of those days that made Chris glad to live here. His blue car cruised down the street in the moderate afternoon traffic, stopping occasionally as signs and lights dictated.

Claire was lounged on the couch when he got home, freshly showered after a run. The TV was on, and Chris snatched up the remote to turn it off. She lunged for it but missed, and the screen went dark with a snap.

"What?" she questioned loudly as if to fend off an accusation.

"We got the case."

Claire grinned. "You mean that case? Congratulations. But why did you need to turn off my show?"

"Jill wants us to meet her at Emmy's. You ready to go?"

Claire got to her feet and slipped on her shoes. "I am now." They stepped back out into the summer air.

The sun had barely begun to sink towards the west as he drove and reminded his sister for the second time already to keep her feet off of the dash. Claire's reddish brown ponytail and bangs whipped around in the wind as she rolled down the window. "Is Jill doing okay?"

Chris bit his lower lip before responding. "I think she's doing a lot better after last night, but I think she's still pretty upset. None of the guys seemed to really be able to tell, but then again, we were kinda working our asses off to get completely up to speed."

Claire nodded. "That's what I figured. That must really suck."

Chris thought immediately of his parents, who died in a car crash a little over three years prior. The relationship may not have been the same as with Jill and the McGees, but there was no denying that a loss like that was painful. He could tell Claire was thinking the exact same thing. Time for a subject change.

"Got any boyfriends for me to straighten out?" Chris prodded.

"Even if I did, why would I tell you?" responded Claire with a sly smirk. "Not to mention, there are few people who can handle two Redfields at the same time."

They arrived, and Chris took the free spot next to Jill's small Toyota.

Jill was at a booth, and the siblings plopped down on either side of her. She looked glummer than before, but still like she was holding together well. She was a lot stronger than most girls Chris knew.

"What did you do today?" Jill asked Claire.

"Not much. Worked out, ran, watched a little TV, and hung out with some old friends from around here."

"Yeah, hopefully tomorrow we'll be able to do something together," Chris assured. "I've got work off."

They ordered their food and had just almost finished dinner when the radio burst to life. It was the dispatcher. "Potential one-eighty-seven reported in the city park, down on the river just north of the bridge. Possibly connected to the Victory Lake case. Are there any units in the area?"

Chris responded. "This is Redfield, just a few minutes away. I'll head there with Valentine now. Requesting you send backup."

"Will do. Good luck."

Jill sighed. "Seems this happens an awful lot when we're eating dinner."

"Claire, wait here. I don't need you getting involved in this."

The young woman crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm coming with."

They exchanged glares, but after a few seconds, in some sort of unspoken agreement only possible between siblings, Chris caved. "Alright. Just stay in the car."

"Okay."

They dashed out the door, Chris having left the check on the table. Claire squashed herself in the back, and as seatbelts clicked into place they were off.

The light was beginning to turn a golden hue, and the shadows were longer and more harsh when they came to the entrance of Raccoon City Park, sometimes known as Umbrella Park as the corporation had funded its construction.

Leaving Claire in the Mustang with his spare gun, Chris and Jill jogged cautiously down the main path. Thick underbrush hemmed them in on both sides, and leafy branches overhead blocked out more light while distorting the surroundings in shadows.

"I remember playing in this park, back when we would visit my grandparents. I don't think I've been here since they passed away. Looks a lot different, but if I remember correctly the fastest way down to the river is just up ahead to our left." Chris led the way, eyes glancing around warily. The path, he believed, was the one just ahead. It was a simple, gravel trail enclosed by foliage. They turned.

"You smell that?" hissed Jill. As a matter of fact, there was a soft, unpleasant odor wafting from nearby. The smell of rotting meat. With every step it became stronger, and was soon accompanied by voices. They quickened their pace.

From the sound of it, there was at least a young man and young woman. When the S.T.A.R.S. members emerged into the clearing at the bank of the Circular River, Chris saw two thin figures standing next to an unmoving lump on the ground.

From the looks of it, they were high school students out for a jog. The lump was the eviscerated body of an older woman.

"Identify yourselves." Chris drew his sidearm in one hand and badge in the other.

They put their hands up, obviously startled enough already due to what they had found. "I'm Greg, and this is Melissa. We were just out for a jog, and…"

"I understand. You didn't touch the body, did you? Move it?"

"N-no sir."

"Good. Don't go anywhere."

Jill was already examining the wounds. "At least this one still has a face."

"Not a whole lot else though, from the looks of it."

Chunks of tissue and uncoiled intestine lay about, and the soil was stained red in splotches. One half of the ribcage was pulled back from the rest of the torso, and anything left in the chest cavity was mincemeat. Damn, these killers were a special brand of sick. It smelled just as bad as the last scene too. Jill held the radio up near her mouth. "Dispatch, this is Valentine. We are at the scene. Victim is an Asian woman, looks like in her mid-sixties. How long until backup gets here?"

The radio crackled. "Four officers on their way, you're clear to leave once they arrive."

Chris noticed footprints leading off into the trees, towards the city. Resisting the urge to follow them, he decided it would be best to stay with Jill and the two teenagers. Backup arrived shortly.


Wesker looked at the monitor, seeing the monster, his creation, nearly motionless in its stasis tube. A blue glow emanated from the liquid-filled glass chamber containing the sleeping T-002 as its exposed heart beat slowly but powerfully. It was somehow the ugliest, scariest, and most beautiful thing Wesker had seen.

He turned his attention to another screen. A single researcher wandered in circles endlessly, rotting legs slowly carrying him forward, going nowhere. There wasn't a single researcher or staff member left uninfected, unless you counted Wesker himself.

Other security monitors told the same story. Mostly empty halls, with an occasional infected shambling across the screen, or one of the Ma-121's stalking about. Those were one of the fake S.T.A.R.S. captain's main worries, and also one of his greater experiments. Could the well-trained Alphas or even Bravos handle the 121's or some of the other nasty surprises that awaited them?

He drummed his fingers, deep in thought. Irons was the only thing holding him back, but he would eventually fall victim to greed or one of Wesker's more creative methods to convince the chief to send in the S.T.A.R.S.

There was also something that he hadn't lent a lot of thought to. What if there were survivors? It was highly unlikely, but not impossible, and could throw a wrench in his plans. The conclusion came to him easily. He'd kill them himself, if the need arose, but he doubted they would last even to the point of getting into the lower labs.

Yes, the plan would go flawlessly. Umbrella would get their data and think he was still working for them, while the other corporation, who paid considerably better, would get samples of the virus. A big economic gain for the person arranging the exchange. Of course, he would keep a sample for himself, a sort of contingency plan as it were. Just a mater of time before everything fell into place.