Disclaimer: see part 1 for disclaimer.

The More Things Change…

By Random1377

Part 10 – The Last Dance

The walking dead: shambling, abhorrent offenses to the natural order of creation. Once human, now unthinking killing machines interested only in feasting on the living flesh of anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way. Chris had dealt with Umbrella's sick experiments for years, but it never failed to amaze him that a corporation would stoop to corrupting life to the point they had.

"Hey Redfield," Billy mumbled, pointing to a huge, cylindrical glass container, "was this a cat?"

Chris barely nodded. The entire room they were in was full of similar tubes, all holding misshapen, grotesquely twisted creatures—some recognizable, others simply disturbing in their alien bizarreness. Here, a lizard the size of a small pony. There, a fist-sized spider with floating, iridescent purple hair on it's deformed legs. Everywhere were shapes that were almost human, or almost animal, or sometimes… disturbing mixtures of both.

And against the far wall, carefully avoided by every member of the S.T.A.R.S team, stood the hulking tank of what was, unmistakably, a Tyrant-class creature, complete with two-foot long claws and an obscenely pulsing heart on the outside of its chest.

Barry asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"You think they're waiting until we turn around to let that thing out?"

Glancing at the tyrant, Chris nodded. "Probably," he said. "Or else they have a whole room full of them waiting for us, and letting us see this one is a trick to make us think this is the worst thing in here."

"Time," Rebecca muttered, "how much time?"

Chris kept his eyes on the Tyrant. "Not enough."

As they moved into the next room, Chris and Leon dragged a rather heavy looking metal bookcase in front of the door. Everyone knew that it wouldn't stop a Tyrant, or even half of the creatures in the prior room, but it might buy them precious seconds as whatever might come through was forced to tear the bookcase apart.

With the way back barred, the team found themselves in a midsized room with a lone door at the opposite end.

Perfect place for an ambush, Chris thought, turning his attention to Rebecca as she held up a syringe full of a rich, amber liquid.

"What's that?"

Rebecca looked proud of herself. "It's the last few drops of Claire's original antidote mixed with a syringe of epinephrine," she said. "I found when I was back in the lab that it bonds pretty well with the eppi, so I figured if push came to shove, I could try using it like a watered down version to try and hold her infection in check long enough for us to get back to the jeep."

Chris nodded approvingly. "Nice job," he said, "let's give it to her on the next floor… I want to hold off as long as we can so-"

"I'm afraid there won't be a next floor for you, Redfield."

The S.T.A.R.S. whirled around as the door on the far side of the room opened… and mirror images of the entire team stepped through, smiling identical, mindless smiles as Wesker and Ada followed them in.

"Figures," Billy grumbled. "I thought things were too easy there for a while. I guess these are the newest 'toys' you want us to test? Bring it on, ugly—we'll kill them like we killed the rest."

"That's what I love about you S.T.A.R.S.," Wesker said jovially. "Your naïveté. Do you think, with our resources, my corporation would need to employ third-rate has-been paramilitaries to test our product? Tsk—that's such an Umbrella mindset." He put a hand on the back of 'Rebecca's' neck. "No, what we want is infinitely more valuable."

"Claire," the real Rebecca breathed suddenly. "You want Claire."

Wesker's smile widened. "Nice to see that some of you actually use that gray matter. I was going to tell everyone why, but I think I'll let Miss Chambers enlighten us."

Rebecca's mind was in overdrive. "T-Veronica," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "It was the most powerful form of the virus…and Claire's the only live carrier."

"Precisely!" Wesker declared. "But it gets better—oh, does it get better! Take a deep breath."

The medic paled. "The air," she groaned. "They've poisoned the air."

Wesker bowed dramatically as the assembled S.T.A.R.S. gaped at their medic. "Saying poison is so… over the top," he said dryly, "and inaccurate as well. For what you're breathing, no other word besides masterpiece will suffice. Think it out, Chambers… I'm enjoying your little epiphanies."

The fake Rebecca smiled unpleasantly, revealing a mouthful of perfect, pearly white teeth.

"If it was just an airborne version of the virus, we'd be infected," Rebecca muttered, her remarkable brain whirling through scenarios as her teammates eyed the HCF employees warily. "And considering how fast Carlos turned, we'd all be zombies by now…"

"We prefer 'carriers,'" Wesker said mockingly, "but please, do go on."

Slowly, Rebecca looked up, staring at the big man with a look of open horror tinged with a hint of awe. "It's an accelerator," she breathed. "You've found a way to speed up the process, so anyone infected turns in a matter of hours!"

Wesker raised his hand, clapping twice as he said, "Bravo. Someone get that girl a gold star."

Rebecca ignored him, her eyes taking on a feverish light as she whispered, "But you can't accelerate a virus too much, or you'll have it reach an overpopulation state and either kill its host, or… die out…"

She raised her wide eyes, looking into Wesker's no longer smiling face.

"…you're almost out of time."

"Enough!" Wesker snapped. "I'm afraid you're the one who's out of time, Chambers."

But Rebecca was already moving.

Spinning on the spot, she brought her right hand up… and drove the syringe full of antidote-laced epinephrine into Claire's chest, jamming the plunger down and delivering half of the stimulant directly into the other woman's heart.

Wesker roared, surging forward with his duplicate S.T.A.R.S. as Claire's eyes shot open and she issued a terrible, reptilian screech.

"Get Down!" Chris shouted, shoving Rebecca out of the way as her own duplicate reached out in a clear bid to snap her neck.

Rebecca stumbled, falling to her knees and fumblingly catching Claire as Billy's clone bowled him over. "Hang on," the medic gasped, lugging the shuddering young woman towards the corner of the room as the fiercest close-in battle she had ever witnessed broke out all around her. "Just hang on!"

The S.T.A.R.S. team put up a tremendous fight. Within moments, the Barry, Leon, and Rebecca clones had been killed, leaving Chris and Billy grappling with theirs as the others desperately sidestepped Wesker's attacks.

Ada, it seemed, was content to simply stand at the exit, impassive witness to the bloodshed as her fellow HCF teammate savagely tried to tear the S.T.A.R.S. apart.

"Aahhhh!"

Rebecca screamed as Wesker caught Barry in a vicious bear hug, his face a leer of triumph as his cable-like arms tightened around the man, crushing inexorably together as Barry's magnum was shaken from his fingers by the terrible struggle, going off as it hit the floor and burying a slug in the wall dangerously close to Claire's head. Brutally, Barry drove his forehead into Wesker's, bloodying himself relentlessly and shattering the blonde man's sunglasses… but it was a useless gesture as a moment later, a sickening crack signaled the surrender of the S.T.A.R.S.'s spine.

"Barrryyyy!"

As the big man fell to the ground, Chris shoved his duplicate away and lowered his shoulder, barreling into Wesker from the side and throwing the bigger man into the wall. Ignoring all else, the S.T.A.R.S. leader pounded his former commander as hard as he could, landing a series of punishing blows to the man's head before seizing his hair and ramming his face into the wall with all of his might.

For a moment, it seemed to Rebecca that it might be enough… until she recalled just what Wesker had become.

"Enough!" the man shouted, his cry covering the loud snap as Leon broke his duplicate's neck.

Throwing his elbow back over his shoulder, Wesker caught Chris in the jaw, sending him flying back into his own clone and knocking it to the ground. Catlike, the big blonde man spun around, charging forward and crushing the skull of the unfortunate duplicate of Chris, leaving only Billy's as the man caught Chris around the throat and hoisted him off of the floor, holding him up in the air and positioning him between Wesker and the remaining S.T.A.R.S., ensuring that none of them could hit him without hitting Chris first.

"Redfield," Wesker ground out. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"Me too."

From nowhere—almost literally—Barry's magnum boomed three times, catching Wesker completely off guard and severing his arm at the elbow as two of the rounds tore into it. The third plowed into his chest, knocking him back against the wall as a thick stream of blood immediately began to pour from the wound.

For a moment, nobody moved but Chris (choking and trying to catch his breath) and Claire (still agonizingly thrashing in Rebecca's careful embrace).

Taking advantage of the lull, Billy lashed out, catching his duplicate in the throat and crushing its windpipe. As it fell to the ground and began to choke on its own blood, Billy summed up the question on everyone's mind.

"What the hell was that?"

Wesker, in spite of being down one arm and sporting a magnum-sized hole in his chest, seemed remarkably collected as he said, "It seems Miss Valentine has decided to grace us with her pres-"

It was only his superhuman reflexes that saved him from having the last round from Barry's gun delivered between his eyes.

The gun fell to the floor with a clatter, seemingly discarded by… nothing.

Ignoring the other S.T.A.R.S., Wesker appeared to be looking everywhere at once, nostrils flaring as his cold, hateful eyes swept the room. "You're wasting my time," he said after a moment of silence. "Everyone in this room is going to die besides me, so you might as well show yourself and save us all the time and drama of me killing your friends one by one in front of your eyes."

When there was no reply, Wesker stooped down and picked up his severed arm, holding it up against the oozing stump until—miraculously—it seemed to take hold, hanging by a few tendons as the biohazard inside of him went about the task of reconnecting the damaged tissue.

"You see, Miss Valentine," he said conversationally, his eyes gleaming as the slug in his chest slowly worked its way back out, "you can't kill me. It's only a matter of time before I get my hands on your scrawny little ass—and believe me, when I do… it won't be like the last time, when I offered you a quick death. Who knows? Maybe when I'm done with you, you might even end up with a bouncing baby fre-"

Wesker was cut off once more as Ada abruptly went stock still, her eyes wide with shock as Jill shimmered into existence behind her. The shock, it seemed, came from the feeling of the combat knife that had, until a few moments prior, been in Chris's boot… and was now buried up to the hilt in the back of her neck.

Looking unimpressed, Wesker said, "Oh come now, Miss Valentine, you know that won't kill her. What did you do, cut her spinal column? It'll just grow back, and then she'll tear you limb from limb."

Jill shook her head, keeping the sneaksuit mask in place in case she needed to vanish again. "It'll take her a few minutes," she muttered. "But the way I figure it, she's too valuable for you to just let her die, so-"

It was Jill's turn to be cut off.

"You figured wrong."

Whipping out his own knife, Wesker flung it at Ada, clearly intending to remove the last obstacle between himself and Jill… but no one—literally no one—could have predicted what happened next, as Leon dove into the way, taking the blade in the chest and going down without a single sound, his eyes rolling closed as he hit the floor and lay completely still.

Everyone stared at him for a moment as if waiting for him to pop back up with the knife held triumphantly in his hands, but as the seconds ticked on, it became clear that Leon S. Kennedy was dead… or at least, well on his way.

"Huh," Wesker mused. "I have to admit I didn't see that coming."

To the shock of all those present, Rebecca abruptly yanked the syringe out of Claire's chest and muttered, "Bet this one's a shock, too."

Throwing herself forward, she jammed the needle into the upper half of Wesker's newly reattached arm, pumping the last half of the epinephrine in before the man could understand the risk of letting her go unchecked.

The pain was immediate, and Wesker snarled with agony, his hand flashing out in the blink of an eye and bashing Rebecca's nose in, sending her careening halfway across the room to land in a crumpled, silent heap almost exactly next to Leon.

"Nn! NN!"

Wesker grunted, backing up against the wall as the drugs coursed through his veins. His heart rate tripled, then quadrupled, blood pouring like water from all of his injuries as his body kicked into overdrive.

"Everyone out!" Jill shouted, yanking her blade out of Ada's neck and rushing over to Claire's side. "Billy, get Rebecca! Hurry! Wesker won't be down long!"

Even as she spoke, the HCF man took a staggering step towards her, his eyes burning with rage as he gritted out, "You'll never get out of here alive, Valentine!"

Pursing her lips as she lifted Chris's sister into her arms, Jill muttered, "One of us won't. Chris—let him have it!"

She started for the door as Chris unloaded his rifle into Wesker, replacing the clip twice and burning through half of his ammunition until Wesker was a twitching, bloody mess.

"That won't keep him down," the S.T.A.R.S. leader said. "I need a grenade or an RPG. Let's finish him off, Jill!"

"No time!" Jill shot back. "The clock's running, Chris—we've got to get the hell out of here!"

It hurt—literally HURT—Chris to admit that she was right. He had put at least ten bullets into Wesker's brain… but Wesker wasn't a regular old carrier, as he was so proud of telling everyone. Wesker was different, and unless they did something decisive, Chris knew a few chunks of lead wouldn't be enough to keep him down.

Not that this knowledge stopped him from emptying another clip into him as Billy picked Rebecca up off the floor and started to follow Jill.

"Be seeing you," Chris muttered, pausing to spit on Wesker's body before turning to Leon.

As he took a step towards him, however, Ada abruptly rose to her feet.

"Stop," she snapped, holding up one hand as Chris brought his rifle up to bear. "There's nothing you can do for him now. Just go."

Glancing down at Leon, Chris muttered, "As if that would ever happen. Out of the way, Wong."

Ada shook her head, slowly backing up until she was standing in front of Leon's body. "There's nothing you can do for him," she repeated, holding Chris's gaze with her eyes as Billy and Jill (each holding one of their fallen teammates) looked helplessly on. "If you take him, he will be dead before you reach the next floor. Technically… he already is."

Chris colored with rage. "Shut the f-"

"If you leave him," Ada cut in quietly, "I can save him."

"Turn him into a freak, you mean!" Jill snapped. "What kind of life is that?"

Ignoring Jill, Ada focused on Chris and whispered, "Does it matter what kind of life it is if it is life, Redfield? After the events of today, I… have no more allegiance with HCF. I will not associate with backstabbers, regardless of what they have done for me in the past. Betrayal is betrayal, and I won't stand for it."

"Big words coming from a spy," Chris countered, looking down at Leon in dismay and taking stock of just how much blood was pooled around the fallen man. "Why do I have any reason to trust you?"

Behind him, Wesker twitched and groaned, bullets working out of his body at an incredible rate as Ada said, "You don't, and I don't care… but your friend is dead, and there's nothing you can do to change that… other than leave him to me."

Chris didn't have time to ask why, nor did he really need to. Considering everything Leon had told him, there was some kind of connection between him and the Asian woman—or had been, when he was alive… and that train of thought led him back to the fact that Leon was dead. Even from where he stood, he could tell that the man was not breathing, and considering how far they still had to go, he estimated that Leon had an absolute zero percent chance of making a recovery if they took his body with them.

"They'll hunt you."

Jill's mouth fell open in shock. "Chris!" she blurted. "You can't honestly be thinking of-"

"I know," Ada murmured, ignoring Jill entirely. "He's worth it, Redfield. Since this entire project began, my only thought was how I could be with him again. Please go now… and let me do what I must."

Shaking her head vehemently, Jill said, "No, Chris, don't listen to her! Death is better than being one of those things—even one like her! Leon wouldn't want this. Chris, please, listen to me!"

Chris ignored her, staring deeply into Ada's eyes as the precious seconds continued to tick away.

"Let's go."

"Chris!"

Jill nearly dropped Claire in her outrage as Chris turned away from Ada and jogged to the door, but the S.T.A.R.S. leader kept his eyes facing forward, muttering, "Time check," as he passed her, leaving Leon's body in Ada's care as he made the decision that Jill could never have made.

The decision to let a teammate live.

( 0 0 0 )

Reaching the surface was an experience in nail-biting tension and heart-stopping scares. With two teammates incapacitated, and another two carrying them, the S.T.A.R.S. only had one gun to work with. Fortunately, that gun was in Chris's hands, and the remaining floors were largely populated with type 1 carriers… and Chris was a professional at taking care of them.

They reached the jeep with ten minutes to spare, their tires churning up dirt in huge plumes as they raced away from the complex.

None of them looked back as the explosive charges went off.

"Rebecca needs to get to a doctor," Chris said when they were several miles away from the smoking remains. "Her nose is broken and she's probably got a concussion. Wesker hit her pretty damn hard."

"We'll get her patched up," Billy said, cradling the woman's head in his lap and gently brushing the bloodied hair off of her face. "Why did that work, though? With Wesker, I mean. Wasn't it just eppi?"

Chris glanced at Jill, but she refused to make eye contact.

"Rebecca could explain it better," he said quietly, "but the way I understand it, Wesker's heart was already kicking out massive amounts of blood, right? Well, whatever he has that passes for blood these days, the stuff that keeps him healed… so the eppi forced it to step up the pace—so much so that it started coming out of any place he had holes in him. Plus there was still some of the antidote Claire used for her… condition mixed in, so I'm sure that messed with him too."

At the mention of Claire, everyone turned to look at her. She had finally stopped convulsing, though her breathing was quick and shallow and her face was flushed an alarming shade of red. Also, while the black scales around her eye had receded drastically, they had not vanished completely, leaving her ultimate fate in question as the S.T.A.R.S. team sped through the night.

"If we ever see Leon again, you know we'll have to kill him, right?"

Billy and Chris glanced at Jill, but her eyes were focused straight ahead, peering out into the night with an unreadable expression.

"I don't think it'll come to that," Chris said uncomfortably. "Ada said-"

Jill snorted, cutting him off. "You're so fucking naïve."

An awkward silence fell as the team continued to drive, and as the lights of the nearest town began to sparkle in this distance, Jill slowly reached back and pulled the sneaksuit's mask over her face.

"Let me out here."

Chris whipped around so fast he nearly lost control of the jeep. "What?"

Behind the mask, tears were leaking from Jill's eyes, but her voice was steady as she whispered, "Let me out here, Chris. The mission's over. S.T.A.R.S. is over. I'm over."

Hesitantly, Billy said, "What about the little girl? You know, the one Leon and Claire wanted to save."

"You're as stupid as Chris," Jill replied flatly. "She's probably dead, Cohen. Figure it out—these people don't play by normal rules, you get it? What reason would they have to keep a little girl alive, hmm? To draw us out of hiding? All they need for that is a picture and a rumor and we come running. Besides," she added, her voice shaking, "Leon's dead. Or worse. Now pull over and let me out."

Slowly… Chris did.

"It doesn't have to end like this," he said as Jill swung the door of the jeep open and slipped out. "Jill, it doesn't have to end like this."

Gazing impassively through the mask, Jill said, "You're wrong, Chris. This is the only way it could end."

Without another word, Jill activated the sneaksuit… and was gone.

"What now, chief?" Billy asked, staring out into the night and trying to catch a glimpse of the former thief.

Chris leaned forward, resting his forearms on the steering wheel and letting out a long, deep sigh. "It's like she said," he muttered. "The mission's over. We patch everyone up… and move on."

For a moment, Billy said nothing. Then, quietly, he mumbled, "I don't think what she said was right. Rebecca thinks that Birkin kid is still alive, and Claire does too… so we're gonna keep looking for her."

Nodding, Chris said, "Yeah, when I said move on, I meant move on to the next mission. I won't quit until every last trace of Umbrella and everything they stand for is wiped off the goddamn planet."

"Amen, brother."

Billy and Chris grinned, and slowly, Chris pulled back onto the road.

Three cities later, Billy felt they were far enough away to warrant a stop at the local hospital to get Rebecca examined. Chris said he was going to keep going until he reached a safehouse he knew about where he could get Claire looked at by someone who knew what Umbrella really was and what they did.

She seemed stable enough for the time, and he didn't want to risk any possible contamination by someone who knew nothing about the T-Virus.

As Billy climbed out and hoisted Rebecca gently into his arms, Chris leaned across the seat and rolled down the window, waiting until Billy looked him in the eyes before asking the most important question he could think of.

"Where will I find you when I need you?"

Brushing Rebecca's cheek with his fingertips, a faint smile played across Billy's lips.

"Cancun…"

( 0 0 0 )

Six months later, Elizabeth Corazón opened the front door to her office and stepped inside, scooping up a small stack of mail left over from the long holiday weekend and tossing it absently on her desk. Slipping her keys into her pocket, she ran a hand through her brassy red hair and wondered if it was time to cut it short again or let it grow out.

"Probably let it grow," she sighed, disheartened that she was talking to herself again.

Her nose was a little smaller, and her chin stuck out a bit more, but the scars were minimal thanks to her choice of plastic surgeon—and she was even starting to get used to seeing the green contacts in the mirror.

All in all, she decided that she was looking pretty good for a woman on the run… though she honestly had no idea who she was running from anymore, since HCF stock took a significant dip following the 'unexplained' explosion at one of their larger research facilities in Wyoming.

Elizabeth thought it couldn't have happened to a nicer bunch of shareholders.

Wesker's still out there, she mused, kicking back in her desk chair and lacing her hands behind her neck to stare up at the ceiling. He won't stop—EVER. Chris was right… we should have finished the job when we had him down and out, but we just didn't have the time to go scrounging up high explosives with so many of us down.

Closing her eyes, she let the names run through her mind. Barry… Leon… Carlos… and for all she knew, Rebecca and Claire, too. Sure they were still breathing when she left them, but one was infected with a nasty virus that was running wild in her bloodstream (wilder thanks to the shot Rebecca gave her) and the other was comatose due to a massive head trauma delivered by the aforementioned former S.T.A.R.S. commander.

It had taken three months to forgive Chris for his decision to leave Leon with Ada. It had taken another two to forgive herself for Carlos. If she closed her eyes, she could still see him lowering his jaws to Rebecca's throat, and with enough concentration she could feel the pistol kick in her hands as she put a carefully placed bullet through what had until only minutes before been one of her best friends' brain.

I should have left him when Claire pulled up that day, she told herself, indulging in a little self-pity as she rocked her chair slowly back and forth. Sorry, Carlos… I guess it just doesn't pay to be my friend.

She heaved another sigh as the phone on her desk began to ring. "Corazón chocolates," she said with forced lightness, "how can I help you?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then an unfamiliar voice said, "I've got a friend who's lost something. I understand that you might be in the business of recovering lost items. Is that correct…?"

Glancing at the closet where the sneaksuit lay carefully folded and tucked inside a well hidden wall safe, Elizabeth murmured, "It might be."

"I'll make it worth your time."

"Tell me more."

She grabbed a pen as the woman on the other end of the line collected her thoughts. "I'd like a face-to-face," she said finally. "I like to know who I'm giving my money to."

Elizabeth nodded. This was a fairly standard request, and while she usually tried to deflect it by pointing out that she worked best under anonymity, she was in the mood to get out of the office and catch some fresh air.

"Where and when?"

"Half an hour," the woman on the other end of the phone said. "Bring all of your tools… I'd like you to start immediately."

"Of course," Elizabeth said smoothly. "Where should we meet?"

There was another moment of silence.

"Downtown. In front of the building that used to be owned by the Umbrella Corporation. I assume you know the place."

Elizabeth froze. "Umbrella…?" she echoed. "Who is this?"

"Half an hour, Miss Corazón," the woman whispered. "I'll meet you there. You'll recognize me. I promise."

With a click, she was gone.

Slowly, Elizabeth set the phone in its cradle and leaned back in her chair, staring at the wall as she considered all the implications of the phone call… and she was shocked to realize just how much she wanted to see them all again. Half of her wanted to just ignore the call, knowing that if she didn't show, they would never call her again, and half of her wished she could fly down to the meeting spot and see them that much faster.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same…"

Staring at the wall for a moment longer, the woman named Elizabeth finally broke out of her trance and grabbed her car keys, stepping out of her office and into the bright afternoon sunlight.

The End

This story was started before I played Resident Evil 4, and I don't have an XBOX 360, so I can't play 5. As such, I only took into account the events of RE0 through Code: Veronica.

For those of you who care, the long break between chapters 9 and 10 reflect the time where I lost interest in writing almost completely. But even during this extended dry spell, I still tinkered with the story every now and then because I really did like it and I hated to see it going dormant for so long.

I have RE4 now, so I might be inspired to write something based on that at some point in the future, but for now, this is all I've got for the proud members of the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad. Jill said it best. This mission's over.

Thanks to Zoro50 for the pre-read. Nice to know at least one person still cared about this one. Hehe

-Random