Disclaimer: see part 1 for disclaimer.
The More Things Change…
By Random1377
Part 3 – Entry Level Opportunities
Jill stretched and yawned, jarred from the unpleasant, recurring dream of being pursued by a thousand screaming monsters by a particularly deep pothole. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice raspy and dry.
"Middle of nowhere," Claire answered quietly, "almost there." She glanced at Jill, then nodded at the rearview mirror. "Don't be too loud… they're both asleep."
Jill craned her neck and glanced into the back seat, finding Chris and Rebecca sleeping soundly, leaning against one another for support and warmth. "That's almost cute," she murmured, "you'd think they were a couple."
A ghost of a smile appeared on Claire's face. "People like us don't make couples," she whispered, "we have passing acquaintances, or flings." She checked the side mirror and slowed down a bit to allow the car behind her to pass them by. "But I'm sure you already know all about that, don't you?"
"What do you mean?" Jill asked, frowning faintly. "I've had several long term relationships."
"How many since Raccoon?" Claire asked coolly. When Jill said nothing, she nodded. "See? When something like that happens to you, you forget how to keep things together." She rolled her shoulders, watching the taillights of the passing car until they vanished out of sight before whispering, "I had a thing with Leon after Raccoon… he was my first… I thought it would last forever."
"I'm… sorry," Jill said awkwardly, "I guess it's pretty clear that I had something with Carlos, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah," Claire nodded, "and it's pretty clear that he'd do just about anything he could to have you back…" She snorted. "And they say we're clingy."
"It's not all their fault," Jill pointed out, pulling again at the collar of her sneaksuit.
Claire shrugged. "Never said it was, just said we can't be normal anymore… dealing with Umbrella has changed us." There was a moment of silence before she said, "I can guess what happened with you and Carlos – you met in the heat of battle… jumped into a relationship… and just assumed it would all work out. But what about my brother? You knew him for over a year before Raccoon… and you seemed to get along ok. Why did that fall apart?"
Jill shifted in her seat, glancing into the back to ensure that the man in question was indeed asleep. "With Chris," she sighed, "with Chris… we were so caught up in doing the right thing that we hardly even thought. It was fight for justice, roll in the sheets, rest, and repeat – for weeks… then when it became clear that no one was going to help us, it was argue, accuse, scream… until we realized that we couldn't be together as long as we had Umbrella on our minds. So we agreed to let things go until they were taken care of."
"So why didn't you come find him afterwards?" Claire asked, her voice all too knowing. "You said you thought Umbrella was gone… why didn't you run to him?"
There was a long pause before Jill replied, "He won't let it go."
"And that's the only reason?"
Jill let silence be her answer.
It's not like I hate the guy, she thought, feeling quite irritated at the small smirk on Claire's face, it's just… damn it, I've already gone over the reasons it wouldn't work out for us! I don't have to justify myself to her!
She stole another look at the younger woman, blinking in surprise as she spotted a small, discolored patch of skin just under her right eye. "C-Claire?" she murmured, "You've got… there's something on your face."
Claire glanced in the rearview, sighing deeply as she guided the car to the side of the road. "Seems to get shorter every time," she said airily, putting the car in park and unfastening her seatbelt. "Think you can take over for a while? I need to have a treatment."
"Ummm, sure."
"Thanks."
What kind of treatment clears up BLACK, SCALY skin? Jill thought, unbuckling her own belt and slipping out of the car. It looks… dead – oh God, she can't be INFECTED! …can she?
As the two doors closed, Rebecca groaned and opened her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked blearily. She gave a start as Claire glanced back at her, quickly regaining her composure as the young woman gave her a wry smile. "Are you contagious?" she asked immediately.
"No," Claire shook her head, reaching into her belt pouch and pulling out a small hypodermic kit, "it's not a virus… or at least, it's not T, G, or T-Veronica. It's a poison of some sort… but it has virus qualities." She closed her right eye, ignoring the discomfort of the other two women as she raised the hypo to her face and slipped the needle expertly under the skin. "I inhaled it during a fight with a rather nasty creature by the name of Nosferatu – formerly Alexander Ashford. Normal remedies don't even touch it… but my… my companion was able to find a cure." She hissed as the yellowish liquid in the syringe sank into her flesh. "Or at least… we thought it was a cure. Turns out it was only a stopgap – there isn't a cure, or at least, there isn't one I've been able to find… and believe me, I've looked pretty damn hard."
Jill grimaced as Claire pulled the needle out and began rubbing the area she had injected to distribute the temporary cure. "So you just have to live with it?" she asked, horrified at the very thought.
"Hey," Claire shrugged, shivering as the black patch began to fade, "at least I get to live." She looked out the window, an unreadable expression on her face as she concluded, "It's m-more than some people get."
Rebecca leaned forward in her seat, angling for a better look as Chris gave a disgruntled snort and moved to the opposite side of the car. "Can I see that?" she asked softly, nodding to the hypodermic.
"S-sure," Claire managed, another shiver running through her. "I'm just… gonna sit here for a few minutes… l-let this run its course. The map is on the d-dash…"
Jill nodded, giving Rebecca a significant glance as the younger woman leaned back in her seat. You thinking what I'm thinking? Jill mused, shifting the car into drive. If not… well, I'll take care of her if it turns out she's wrong and this IS a virus… but I really, REALLY hope it doesn't come to that.
Rebecca, however, was thinking something far different… and she made very sure that Jill did not see her tuck the hypodermic into her own belt pouch, being careful to slip the end into the plastic handle of her Swiss army knife – ensuring that the last few drops of the drug would not seep out.
**
"Ok," Jill said slowly, "so the rooms in red are the ones our friend Nick hasn't had access to, and therefore does not know what they contain, right?"
"Exactly," Chris nodded, rubbing his shoulder with a pained expression, "HCF placed him pretty high up in the organization when they hired him, but he's still not in the 'inner circle' just yet."
"You ok there, Ready?" Jill asked, arching an eyebrow as Chris continued to work at his shoulder.
"Slept funny," the man muttered, giving one last shrug, "and don't call me that."
Jill nodded. "Fair enough," she said amicably, "old habits and all that." She held out her hand, meeting Chris's gaze steadily. "We all go home this time," she said softly, "and it all ends here. Right?"
Chris took her hand, shaking it firmly. "If we get what we came for, it all ends
here," he said levelly, "that's all I'll cop to."
Jill glanced at the trio, knowing that they (along with the rest of the team, waiting their arrival at the designated meeting point) would agree. All or nothing, she thought grimly, S.T.A.R.S. 'til we die.
"Good luck, my Valentine," Chris whispered, stepping forward to snap the sneaksuit's small accessory belt around her waist.
Raising her arms, Jill allowed him to complete his task. "Same to you, Ready," she whispered back, deciding that if there was ever a time for pet names, this was it.
"Hey," Chris murmured, lowering his voice even further as he straightened and speaking for Jill alone, "after this is all over… do you think we-"
"Not now," Jill cut in just as quietly, "I can't even think about that right now, Chris. I'm sorry."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Jill countered.
Before he could answer, Jill pulled the sneaksuit's facemask down and secured it into the neck, holding her hand out to Claire for the small oxygen tank she would be using on her trip through the sewers.
"There's some oxygen tabs in your pouch," Rebecca informed her, "not sure how you'd get them in your mouth under four feet of sewage, but if you find yourself in a pinch… chew them as fast as you can – they'll oxygenate your blood for four minutes each, and you have five."
"You guys have all the swell gadgets," Jill joked weakly, affixing the oxygen tank to her chest with its simple harness. "Any other surprises for me in there?"
"Your lockpicks," Chris replied, holding his hand up and ticking the contents off on his fingers, "tazer, two spare clips for your gun, a pocketknife, a couple herbs to kill the pain if you get hurt, and…" he grinned, "some jerky in case you get hungry."
"I knew there was a reason I let you pack," Jill said lightly, "you're so thoughtful."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Jill fixed the breather portion of the oxygen tank over her face. Good thing they stole the mask that goes with the suit, Jill thought, starting the flow of oxygen and looking with distaste at the brown sewage she was about to crawl into. Otherwise I'd have to go with a normal scuba set – and I am NOT getting that stuff on my skin!
Finding that there was nothing left to say, Jill simply turned away and strode towards the sewer outlet, quickly assessing the hole Rebecca had cut into the grill while Chris and Claire were stashing the car behind a rocky outcropping. She could not deny that the base's location was prime – mountains on three sides, and only one serviceable road leading into the tiny 'valley,' the perfect spot for unethical research.
"Four hours," Jill whispered, her voice muffled by the mask and the breather, "let's rock."
She thought Chris called something to her as she stepped forward and slipped through the grill, immersing herself in the vile, slow-moving sludge passing through the sewers, but she could not simply back out and ask him to repeat himself. Cold, she thought, forcing herself to press on through the darkness, God, it's like swimming through ice…
Keeping her head down, Jill began to move forward, counting on the idea that her movements would look like nothing more than a ripple or current in the sewage.
There ARE cameras down here, she reminded herself, forcing herself not to think of what was ebbing and flowing past her, at least I can't see… just have to remember that the grate that leads to the treatment plant is the fourth one on the left, and I'm good to go.
It was slow going. Mired down in the thick, viscous waste fluid, with her visual range at absolute zero, it left a lot of time for her to consider why she was there. Passing the third grate, however, the only true conclusion she had come to was that she hated sewers, and that Chris was still cute.
So sue me, she thought irritably, continuing her careful hand over hand progression towards the next grate, I AM human after all, and he WAS my lover for a while, so can't I notice if he's still – whoa! What was that!?!
Jill froze, carefully feeling around on the bottom of the slick sewer pipe. "Can't be," she told herself, disquieted by the liquid-distorted sound of her own voice as she continued to search for the object she had just 'walked' on.
Shaking her head, she continued on. Just your imagination, Jill, she told herself, stay focused – there's no time to go back and check anyway, the current's probably dragged it away by now… so just keep moving.
But it was hard to shake the memory, as she had the distinct impression that she had just put her right hand… on a human forearm.
**
Surfacing in the treatment plant had been anticlimactic, as there was only one camera in the room she came up in, and it would not be able to spot her amongst the rest of the refuse in any case. Lord, she thought, entirely repulsed as she carefully wiped one of the sneaksuit's lenses clean with her thumb, I guess they DO have to treat this stuff, don't they?
Along with the usual human wastes and discarded food products, there were bobbing boxes – several of them marked hazardous – and a slew of small, dead animals, ranging from birds and rats up to small dogs and even, Jill thought, the remains of a pony.
What the hell are they DOING here??
The pipe she had come through, being an outflow pipe, led to a small, comparatively clean pool, separated from the main holding tank by a short wall. Glancing around, she could see how the plant worked – raw materials came through several wide pipes around the perimeter of the room and converged in a huge holding tank in the middle of the room. The raw waste was then drawn out through a row of intake pipes on the south side, carrying it to an enormous machine that was half concealed in the wall. Presumably, this machine would filter out and destroy (most likely through incineration) any waste deemed too large or hazardous to pass into the sewer system, then deliver it into the pool Jill was crouching in, where it would be released in controlled doses to the outside world.
Tidy, Jill thought with some distaste, watching the camera closely as it swung in a slow arc from left to right, now. As soon as she was sure the camera was pointing the opposite direction, she scrambled over the wall, cursing under her breath as she came down with a splash, finding the pool on the opposite side much deeper than she anticipated.
She went stock still as the camera whipped back around; zooming slowly over the area she was in. The suit, as Billy had said, was only effective if it was clear of debris… but since she was covered from head to toe in the same muck she was floating in, Jill felt confident that she would blend in anyway.
After an eternity, the camera resumed its casual sweeping, moving away with a lazy, unhurried pace and leaving Jill to sigh in relief. "Close," she whispered to herself, shrugging the oxygen tank free and letting it sink to the bottom before moving slowly towards the edge of the pool and freezing as the camera made another pass. Once she was clear, she hoisted herself out of the tank and quickly climbed down the ladder, shuffle-sprinting as quietly as she could to stand directly under the camera's base and hoping whoever was manning the thing would not spot the vile brown footsteps leading from the base of the ladder.
Can't be helped, she thought, waiting tensely as the camera panned back towards the tank, at least the rest of the floor is filthy… I don't even think it'll show up.
She let out another relieved sigh as the camera made three more passes without so much as slowing down.
"Alright… go time."
The next time the camera swung away from the door, Jill hurried over to it, entering the access code Ambrose had supplied and grinning under her mask as the door immediately hissed open. Fortunately, the hallway she was now in was devoid of cameras, and she made it to the locker room without incident.
Ahhh thank GOD, she thought, standing under the shower and watching the muck and filth flow down the drain, heading right back to where it had come from. Gotta make sure it all rinses down, she reminded herself, running her hands over the suit to ensure that every last bit of the sewage was washed away, the hallway… I can't help, I'll just have to hope no one checks the tank before I get to security, but this is a pretty common shower room, I can't just-
She froze as she heard voices approaching. "Damn it…"
Quickly padding around the wide, tiled room, Jill turned all of the showerheads on full blast, filling the area almost instantly with a thick blanket of steam.
"And so I told her," one of the voices, now distinctly audible, was saying, "'Hey, the alley or the back seat, it don't make no difference as long as I get what I paid for.'"
The other voice replied, "So what did she say to that?"
"Well what could she say," the first voice snorted, "she got in, and we… hey, what is that stink!"
Jill tensed as the voices came to a halt just inside the shower.
"Aww man," the second voice groaned, "Joey must have been in here… God, is his nose just dead or what??"
"Oh you've got to be kidding me!" the sound of feet slapping on tile reached Jill's ears, and a burly, towel-clad man hurried past the stall she was in, never even looking in her direction, "He got it all over the hall again!"
Another man, bigger than the first by at least seventy pounds, strode past Jill, missing her right foot by less than seven inches. "I'll kill him," he growled. "Now who do you think has to clean up this mess??"
"Screw that," the smaller man said, "I'm off the clock… let the next shift deal with this in the morning! I'm not even turning any of this crap off."
"Yeah," the big man agreed, "you're right – let's just get outta here, I can shower at home… place gives me the creeps at night anyway."
"Amen."
Jill waited until they had gone before stepping out of the shallow stall. "Guess this thing is worth the price we paid for it," she whispered to herself, grinning broadly as she held her arm out in front of her face, "Hmmm… just don't get caught in the rain…"
Her arm, she noticed, was just barely visible in the spray of water from the many showerheads as the stealth circuits struggled to bend the light around them.
Time to go… I still have an hour and a half, and it's only fifteen minutes to the security station… but better safe than sorry.
Leaving the showers running, she made her way out, pausing to towel the water off of her suit before striding silently, confidently, invisibly down the hall.
**
The journey to the security office was a tense one as Jill kept hearing sounds behind her, only to turn and find the hallway entirely empty. Losing my mind, she thought nervously, crouching in a janitorial closet and listening intently for any unusual noises. I know it's not me, she mused, the sneaksuit has pads on the feet to neutralize sound.
She stayed in the closet for over an hour, finding the dark and quiet very comforting. Finally, she cracked the door open and peered out, fully expecting to find a pair of eyes peering right back, or possibly the wide, black barrel of a shotgun. Finding nothing but an empty corridor, she slipped out and headed over to the security office, pulling her tazer out of the sneaksuit's accessory belt.
"Here we go."
She stepped into the security office with all of her senses tingling, alert for any hint that her presence had been detected. It's been too easy, she told herself pessimistically, I've only seen those two guards… if they even were guards, they might have been janitors for all I know.
Her feeling of unease grew as she found two security officers dozing fitfully in front of the huge bank of monitors, their heads forward on their chests in identical positions of repose.
Definitely something wrong…
Checking her watch, Jill found that there was very little time for analysis. Stepping forward, she pressed the tazer against one of the officers' backs, pressing the trigger and quickly turning the small weapon on the other officer, ensuring that neither would wake up any time soon.
"Too… easy…" she muttered, casting a suspicious look around the room.
Denying her danger instincts, she leaned over the security desk and deactivated the alarm system, stealing another look at her watch as one of the monitors on the wall showed a pair of trucks rolling up to the front gate. Perfect timing, she thought, watching through the screen as Chris leaned out the driver's side – presumably to talk to the guard on duty – and grinning broadly as he suddenly swung the door open. Zero body count, right? Jill thought, recognizing the spark of a long-distance tazer jump over Chris's shoulder. But something's wrong… what IS it??
Scanning the security screens, she felt her heart sinking. "Oh no… no!!"
In one of the rooms, clearly visible on the screen, sat a teenage girl with dark hair, her arms and legs securely fastened to the chair she was situated in… but behind the chair stood two figures, both dressed from head to toe in pure black, both wearing dark sunglasses, and both staring right into the camera with identical, terribly amused smiles.
The shorter of the two, Jill did not know, but as she turned from the monitors and dashed from the security room she knew what was bothering it. It was not the ease of getting in, or the lack of guards or employees. It was not the fact that she was cut off from the rest of her group, or the growing certainty that she was rushing headlong into a deathtrap.
No, everything that was wrong with this entire operation could be summed up in the name of the man smiling coolly up at the security camera in the room holding Sherry Birkin.
Death, spelled out in a single, sickening word.
"Wesker."
Continued…
Author's notes: you know, the hardest part about this chapter was getting Jill out of that damn tank!! _ I just kept thinking, 'security would be tighter than that… no it wouldn't it's a sewage plant! Yes it would, it's HCF! No it wouldn't, it – aggghhh!!!' finally, I decided that it is a sewage plant, so security probably wouldn't be that tight… and as Jill noticed, the floor would be filthy, so her footprints probably wouldn't show up. HEY – it works for me!! :P Anyway, I hope you liked this installment. Look forward to the next chapter, where we find out what Rebecca and the others are up to, coming… oh, when I feel like writing it. :)
This chapter was pre-read by Adiabatik, who politely nodded and said, 'Yeah, umm… the whole thing with the tank? …it could happen.' Thanks for lying tactfully, my dear. ^_~
Feedback is always welcome at random1377@yahoo.com or any site this story is posted on that has the ability to accept reviews.