Chapter 2

Sanitation Squad

Large pipes carrying hot water snaked over the ground and warmed the air around them. At a conjunction of several was a bubble of warmth that was enough to stave off the penetrating chill of the underground Hive. In the shadowy corner, the woman had taken advantage of the bubble and curled up to take a nap.

Barrows awoke with a start, blinking and looking around uncertainly. She groaned upon realizing where she was and uncurled from the fetal position she had fallen asleep in. "Fuck me." Sitting up and stretching out the kinks in her neck, she brooded, "Maybe it was a nasty tequila dream?" But she couldn't see her empty bottle of Patrón. "Dammit, no, I-"

Abruptly the doors swished open. Heavy boots clumping on the concrete floor echoed in her ears. Her heart flipped in joy. There were people still alive! She made to stand up and call out, yet the badges on the commandos' black arm-sleeves caught the light and had her mouth clamping shut. Sanitation, they proclaimed. Shit. Were they there to finish the job the Red Queen started? A buzz of dismal thoughts filled Barrows' mind. She pressed herself back into the shadows, listening to the squad fan out into the room.

"Kaplan." A deep male voice commanded.

"Dining hall 'B,'" another male replied. "It's what it says on the map."

Barrows silently snickered. They obviously weren't well-informed.

"Did anyone else notice the key-plate was fucked up?" A woman this time. Shit and more shit. Barrows hoped that the sight of her dangling, destroyed tablet wouldn't piss off the people with guns.

"Yea." She heard boots move away to investigate. The light tenor of a male voice responded. "There's a tablet computer attached. Looks like it was fried by an electric charge. Someone was probably trying to hack the security system. It's useless now. We won't be able to pull anything from the melted hard drive."

The leader demanded, "Is the keypad operational?"

There was a brief silence. Everyone, especially Barrows, waited with baited breath. She heard the scrape of metal and clatter of her tablet being tossed to the floor.

"Yes, sir. It's good to go."

"Good." The deep voice approved.

Barrows peeked from her cover to look at the solid-black-clad commandos. A few civilians were with them. Startled, she looked the three over. There were two men casually dressed, both in excellent shape. One was in a blue button-up shirt and dress slacks, with his hands behind his back. He looked fairly young, probably a few years Barrows' junior, and she didn't have a clue who he was.

The other, in jeans and a dark t-shirt, she recognized as an Umbrella security operative. Spence Parks. Asshole extraordinaire. He was married to the Chief of Security, the woman standing next to him. She wore a dark leather jacket, obviously too large for her, over a slinky red dress. Guess a hot date was interrupted, Barrows mused. She had met the chief once; her name was Alice Abernathy. Barrows had been introduced to Alice as just another lab assistant, like everyone outside the project knew her, named Anise. Only the Red Queen called Anise "Ms. Barrows." Everyone used first names in the Hive because the Psych Department said it helped keep up morale while stuck underground like blind little moles in the giant death trap.

The unknown man spoke up. "Maybe the corporation is keeping a few secrets down here. Something you're not supposed to see." Immediately, Anise decided the man in the blue shirt was going to be her friend. He obviously wasn't just another idiot brainwashed by Umbrella's bullshit slogan: Our Business is Life Itself. Anise liked people who weren't complete morons. They made life so much better.

Spence would be her friend in a cold day in Hell. Their many run ins were never comfortable, generally explicitly unpleasant. Pranks played throughout her career at Umbrella usually ended up with Spence yelling at her, and Anise delighted in how many shades of red she could get Spence's face to turn. So far, he always lacked the evidence to discipline her. He hated her for good reason, at least.

Befriending Alice might work. During their one meeting, when the chief was new and trying to meet everyone who worked in the Hive, she had seemed serious, intelligent, capable, open-minded, fair, and that of course, was sexy as hell. With her pretty green eyes and nice butt to look at, Barrows was willing to ignore that Alice worked for Umbrella. If it got her out of the Hive, she was willing to overlook a lot. She turned her thoughts to the squad covered in guns and other gear. What were their mission parameters?

"JD, you and Rain keep the prisoner here and secure the exit." So, the big guy was in charge. The prisoner was the man in blue. No wonder his arms were behind his back. Handcuffed. Why was he a prisoner? Her multitude of questions were having baby questions in bulk.

A woman commando, hidden behind a container, spoke, "Sir, halon levels are non-existent in this room. Could be a system malfunction."

Or a malfunctioning, psychotic AI bitch, Anise thought. Halon levels? The fire suppression system must've been activated. No wonder the Red Queen hadn't wanted Anise to open the door. Halon gas was highly effective at suppressing electrical fires; it was also highly toxic to living people.

"All right. There may be survivors. Give me a search line, but keep it tight." Leader Commando ordered the team.

Searching for survivors, huh? She wondered if now was a good time to say hello. Scrubbing a hand through her sleep-mussed hair, Barrows decided to watch and wait a little longer. Learn what she could by eavesdropping and maybe just follow the squad out of the Hive. She liked the idea of leaving Umbrella very, very far behind.

Sneaking around the perimeter was easy enough. Keeping her body in top condition was key for the project she was involved in. That entailed rigorous physical and psychological training that was borrowed and adapted from Umbrella's Spec Ops Training. Dr. Belst's backers thought it was good sense to teach Project Afterthought's main subject how to defend herself and others. They wanted her to survive any situation, and handily enough, a healthy body was easier to measure results by.

Quietly, she avoided the squad's movements around the room. It was easy once she nimbly climbed on top of a box, flattened herself, and breathed softly. She watched them move with a precision and ease that only came with time spent working together. This squad had obviously been in action many times. The commander held himself confidently. He knew his team and trusted them to do their job. One, she read on his name tag. One what? Weird ass nickname, she mused.

She watched One's measured stride toward Alice, who had gotten curious and stepped up to look into a container's viewport. He slipped up beside her, startling the poor woman. She had been mesmerized by the thing inside. Anise felt goosebumps prick her flesh at the memory of peeking into the containers. She had had nightmares for weeks and swore to never look inside again.

"I said, 'keep it tight.'"

"Sorry." The chief whispered. "I'm not sure I wanna remember what went on down here." Alice was plainly worried. Anise blinked, confused. How could the Chief forget about shit she didn't know about? She didn't know about Project Afterthought or what the things were. Did she? And why the hell would she have forgotten, anyway? The questions' babies were breeding like rabbits. Fucking rabbits.

"I don't blame you." One was freaked out too, though his command mask hid it well. The buff man's stoicism impressed Anise. She was barely keeping herself from freaking out. How the hell did he do it when people were watching? He turned away and led the main group toward the Red Queen's core.

The three left in the room delighted Barrows by chatting about the married couple's amnesia. It made up for how the hard steel was digging into her ribs, knees, and chin. Cage tops were not comfortable spying perches. She much preferred cushioned benches at the mall. At a break in the conversation, Barrows thought she heard screaming again. Convinced her mind was screwing with her and not wanting to contemplate what it could mean, she ignored it and paid closer attention to the trio.

She listened eagerly as she learned how the mansion, the building that guarded another entrance to the secret facility, had backup security measures in addition to the married operatives that lived there. In an emergency, a gas was released into the air that incapacitated everyone inside. Its side effects, besides nausea and possible constipation, included temporary amnesia that could last anywhere from a few hours to several days. She agreed with Rain, the gorgeous, petite, Latina commando, that would "fuckin blow."

Rain was picking at her nails with a combat knife, and JD, an Italian-looking guy, was keeping an alert eye on their surroundings. The two squadmates exchanged guesses on how long the amnesia would last. JD asked their prisoner what he thought, who shrugged, making JD pout and turn back to his companion. Rain told him not to bother with the prisoner, that he'd probably just lie again, like he was about being a cop.

Anise examined the prisoner thoughtfully. His clothes looked like a detective's, sharp business casual, and his brilliant blue eyes held a sharp intelligence that argued with his youthful face. It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to investigate what Umbrella kept hidden from the public. At one point, Anise thought that maybe the prisoner had seen her. He didn't say anything and didn't look toward her again, so she relaxed.

The direction of conversation changed. JD wanted to know what the freaky things were, and Anise briefly considered telling him that she did know, that she wished she didn't. Doc Belst had thought it best that Anise knew why their project was so important. It was the main reason she had volunteered. The T-virus was too damn dangerous. She dismissed the idea of sharing her knowledge since she still had not decided if she could trust the commandos. Really, she preferred to keep her body free of bullet holes and her hands out of handcuffs. Shit. She wasn't a fan of getting tied up during sex, let alone having some Umbrella operative do it.

Anise was distracted from watching the commandos when the lights flicked off. The green lights on all the containers clicked to red, proclaiming environment unstable. Everything was suddenly very quiet, and she could plainly hear the beast trapped in the cage beneath shift and breathe heavily. Distantly, she could hear mechanical clicks and the sounds of systems disengaging, doors unlocking. Not fast enough, the power switched back on, doing little to quell the pit of fear developing in Anise's stomach.

"They're late," JD proclaimed. Anise wondered how the hell he was so calm. Rain wasn't calm; she was fucking bored. The borrowed Spec Ops training certainly hadn't taught Anise how to act like a badass in terrifying situations. Dammit. That wasn't fair. Jealousy ate at her until she considered that they might not know the situation was supposed to be terrifying.

A grinding metallic noise pulled her from further dismal thoughts. Anise blinked and frowned, listening to the noise that sounded like steel being dragged over concrete. Several moments later, the commandos heard it.

"I got it." Rain volunteered to investigate, apparently happy for a reason to hold her big ass gun. Jealousy nipped at Anise again, mostly of the gun though. She imagined other things the attractive woman could do with her tan and shapely hands and sighed lightly. Daydreaming was good for her health, she justified.