Author's Note: Hoooo...That was a long semester. Dear readers and writers alike, I am terribly sorry for the unannounced hiatus. And thank you to those people who decided to follow/favorite this story despite the hiatus. Spring term of college in your junior year is far less kinder than I expected. Anyways, I'll be able to do more translating/writing during the summer, so expect more!

Enjoy!

Also, I'll be using the Wolfpack's real names, so I'll put 'em down here to avoid confusion

Karena LesProux: Lupo

Vladimir Bodrovski: Spectre

Hector Hivers: Beltway

Michaela Schneider: Bertha

N/A: Vector

PS: Now that season 2 is coming to a close, I'm thinking of doing a fanfic of Into The Badlands with an OC...what do you all think?

Viper opened his mouth once he had his thoughts organized. "Hey, you guys remember what the Alpha Team leader said about the UBCS? They're just mercenaries; they can be bought. We can't assume their loyalty to the company. Those were the exact words. What about us?"

That silenced everyone immediately, deescalating the situation in an instant. In truth, while they did have more benefits than the UBCS, they too, were mercenaries, employed for their skills.

Lupo was a former member of the special forces in France hired in exchange for a sum large enough for her children's education; Four Eyes was picked up for her extensive knowledge and observational skills as a medical researcher; Beltway and Spectre were chased out of their former teams and were picked up by them for their skills; Vector trained under HUNK since his youth, making it only a matter of time before he started working with his teacher for Umbrella; Bertha was hired for her expertise in torture and extracting vital information from people; Viper was a former child soldier who had no family or anyone he could go to, effectively tethered to Umbrella to survive. He had no choice.

They all have their reasons that compelled them to begin making a living in the underworld of criminals, but because of that they were the perfect scapegoats for Umbrella who could use their records as an excuse. And right now was the opportune moment for them to brand the Wolfpack as a cell of terrorists or whatever they could come up with.

"If we go to that compound now, we will die a mighty fucking painful death that would make the deaths in Friday the 13th and the Hellraiser movies feel like a session of chiropractic therapy." He switched off his earpiece as he continued, "They had no intention of letting us walk away alive, and that's not going to change any time soon. Money is important, but don't forget that it's nothing compared to our lives."

The mercenary's most prized possession: it is life itself. If they die, everything comes to an end. They can no longer look for a new job, they can never eat or drink, and can never be paid or spend the money they had earned as they pleased. Death was the antithesis of profit. "And that cop, —-John F. Kennedy or whatever his name was—we can let him go, can't we? It's been a while already since this shit show started, so he probably has a lot of dirt on Umbrella. Hopefully. We leave his ass in the wind, and Umbrella goes bye-bye into the shit storm of litigation. And if that's not enough, we personally take 'em down."

Lupe chewed on her lower lip and knit her brows together in a frown, thinking for what seemed to be an eternity before she switched her earpiece off and opened her mouth. "I suppose. Very well, we will go with your plan. And I know that you know how much I despise having people stepping on my neck. I believe we are obligated for some payback, with interest."

Upon hearing this, Beltway and Spectre began snickering under their respective gas masks.

"Ah, there is the strong woman that we know. But I believe your expression is….a bit of an understatement."

"Damn right it is. Ladies and gentlemen, let's go skin the fat cats."

Everyone else silently nodded as they huddled closer. Viper subtly exhaled a sigh of relief. "So? What do we do now?"

"For now we make chase. As a public servant he won't have the trouble we would have in public. We will use him as our means to gut Umbrella. Nothing different, to be honest."

Viper's shoulders relaxed, as he laughed softly to himself. No wonder he felt so comfortable with these six. He couldn't stifle the laughter any longer, and the others joined in on it for a while, relaxing their high-strung nerves a bit.

"Alright, now we begin our tour of hell on earth. Stack up." Despite the gravity of the situation and Lupo ordered her team to prepare themselves but her voice was strangely uplifted with joy.

Both Leon and the Wolfpack were able to escape the city with the research facility in ruins and BOWs running rampant.

They continued to ignore Umbrella's plans and continued the chase. Luckily, they knew nothing of the Wolfpack's intentions, feeding them detailed information of his current location and activity.

"We have just intercepted a distress signal from Leon S. Kennedy. He is moving with two other survivors. One is a civilian Claire Redfield, and the other is Dr. Birkin's daughter Sherry." Command's words shocked everyone. To think that they would be facing the daughter of the man they had basically killed seemed like a sick twist of fate. "These three are confirmed to be in Lonsdale Yard. The military is already en route to extract them. Sherry Berkin is infected with the G-Virus and has the antigen injected into her. The vaccine is now gone with the lab, but we still have her. Take Kennedy and Redfield out and bring her back to Umbrella. Alive."

Feigning compliance, they hurried towards Lonsdale Yard. It was a large patch of land surrounded by chainlink and metal fences now bent out of shape with freight containers stacked on top of each other creating a maze.

"Report shot count." Everyone voiced their remaining rounds of ammunition. Their primary firearms had just over two magazines, while their sidearms had barely ten rounds apiece. Knives, machetes and other melee weapons have either been damaged heavily for any further use or were lost fighting the large BOWs.

They were used to not having backup whilst in combat zones, but this was by far the worst one to be in in their entire lives. All of them were wounded, and none of them were simple as scrapes or bruises, barely hanging on after Bertha and Four Eyes patched them up with what resources they had. Without being able to rest for even a moment, the Wolfpack was steadily exhausting both their minds and bodies.

"Viper, can you move?"

"Yep. I'm really sleepy, but the pain's keeping me awake." Despite the cheerful demeanor, anyone could see Viper was already on his last legs. He had a hole in his side after a stray rifle round ricocheted through it, a fractured clavicle, several broken ribs and a minor concussion. In a battlefield, losing function of even a single limb was costly. Viper had fought and ran like a madman up to now gritting his teeth through the pain, but his legs were buckling and giving out under him. His condition was worsening to the point where he could not even remain upright without leaning against one of the containers. The fever swarming him resulting from the broken bones was robbing his consciousness but at the same time the loss of blood made him feel like he was freezing too.

Viper's stamina was no less than a seasoned soldier, but he still was a child with a body still unripe. In fact, it was a miracle in and of itself that he was even able to continue fighting. As he was about to collapse on the floor, Vector caught him. "Don't die on us, lucky boy. You'll get us all killed." He unscrewed the cap of his canteen and slowly poured whatever water was left into his mouth.

"Hang on, we're almost there. Once we get out of this place—"

"It's my body, I know I'm fucked sideways up shit-creek. That attack from the Licker is more than enough to do me in. Look, I'm proud that I was your good luck charm even if I die. But luck is something that runs out eventually, so I won't blame you for leaving me."

Lupo took his hand in hers, holding it tightly. "Then use that luck on yourself and hang on. For us. Please." Her eyes were that of a mother caring for her child worried sick, and Viper felt his heart breaking. In all honesty, he wanted to tell her he was in pain. He wanted to cry and beg her for help, but he could not. He would not.

"There might be a way." Lupo spun her head towards Bertha. "Sherry Birkin has both the G-Virus and its antigen in her blood. We get that to him. The virus revitalizes the cells of its host and regenerates, healing every wound, fatal or otherwise. Dr. Birkin and Sherry have type O Blood, and Viper has type AB. To my knowledge, there won't be incompatibility reactions."

"That's too risky," Four Eyes objected, shaking her head. "A small amount may not be too much of a problem, but this is the G-Virus we're talking about. Regardless of the antigen's existence and its advantages, that's not a factor we can just gloss over. If worse comes to worse, we may have to be the ones to put Viper down like Birkin."

The risk for both choices was heavier than the world itself. Lupo scrunched her face up with her eyes tightly shut.

"Alright, fine. I'll use whatever luck I have left for myself. My life, my choice. I get all the votes, 'kay?"

"Are you sure about this? There's no going back, and already your chance of survival is dangerously low." Hearing Vector's words made him snicker, but a dull pain shot up his left side as he laughed.

"I already made my choice. If I'm dying either way, I'll take my chances with a path that lets me stick around with you guys longer, even if it's just for another second." Although physically weakened, the conviction in his eyes never wavered.

Vector nodded. "Lupo, Bertha and I will cover him."

"Thank you. Stay alive. All of you. That's an order." Lupo stood up with the others, leaving Bertha and Vector with Viper to track down Leon. Once the four disappeared out of sight, Bertha unslung her backpack and pulled out a small case with vials and syringes.

"Bertha….what's that?"

"Morphine. It's to kill the pain a bit and let your nerve cells rest instead of telling you that you're injured badly. You're small, so the dose is small, thankfully. Vector, lay him down flat on his back. Slowly." Vector caught Viper before he could hit the ground and very gently laid him out on the asphalt.

"Oh, gimme a break. Pain is proof of life. I'm not about to make you bend your rules of no pain-killers at a time like this." He tried to wave the syringe away, but Bertha caught that arm.

"Stop acting tough. Remember the time you got shot and I tried to take the bullet out without painkillers? When Lupo found out I thought she was going to kill me. In all honesty, I was scared shitless. I value your life, but I also value my life as well." Turning his head, she stuck the needle into the vein in his neck and injected the morphine. In a matter of minutes, Viper felt his body go loose, spreading from head to toe. The pain coursing through his body was disappearing as well.

"Oh and I never asked before, but what's your real name, Viper?"

"Don't have one. Viper is my name, like Vector."

"Really? Then I guess we'll have Vector come up with one for you then."

"You want a John Doe like me to give Baby Doe a name?"

"Oh, come on. What do you have to lose? I'm only asking because you both have Asian features. There's only one room for a John Doe and that's for Vector."

"That's racist, Frau Doktor," Viper quipped with a snicker.

"Shut up, you," she shot back laughing, giving him a casual flick to the forehead.

"How about….Ryuji. Ryuji Mikage."

"Does that name have some meaning or significance?"

"Yes. In Japanese, Mikage could mean the soul. Ryuji is rooted in the Chinese zodiac signs. Ryu is dragon in Japanese, and counting back to your birthday, you're born on the year of the snake, which is after the year of the dragon. Hence Ryuji."

"Oh, that sounds awesome. Alright, once we get the hell outta here, that's gonna be my name on the fake passport."

"No objections." Bertha dabbed at the sweat on Viper's forehead with a towel and fanned his face with her glove, trying to keep his temperature low. Vector did his best to keep him hydrated, but the sweat was pouring off like rain and his breathing was getting shallower, uneven.

The T-Virus was coursing through Viper, claiming him. Time was running out.

The four kept after Leon doggedly, more determined than they have ever been in their lives and finally cornered him in an area where several freight trains had stopped.

Spectre had a lock on his location through the various vision modes in his goggles, rifle at the ready with the safety off.

"Claire, now!"

There was a loud, deep pop followed by a whooshing sound. The sound of a weapon that any former military member has heard being discharged before.

"Grenade! Cover!" Beltway, who excelled in demolition and the use of explosives, noticed this the quickest, and all four jumped behind cover before impact. "Oh, that fucking bitch! She's got a motherfucking grenade launcher! Blowing shit up is my job, goddamit!"

Hearing the explosion, hordes of infected began to converge toward them, as well as the SPEC-OPs. Beltway began tossing grenades that he took off soldiers' corpses into the crowd, aiming in areas that were particularly infested. "Everyone stick together and get away from the blast radius!"

With a tomahawk in the left and an M4 rifle with a drum magazine in her right, Lupo cut open a path. They were running out of stamina, bullets and time. They had to act far more efficiently than they had.

"Lupo, leave the infected and the SPEC-OPS to me! Spectre, be the Oswald to his Kennedy and blow his fucking head off!"

"Of course, but you need to make sure to keep him out of the blast radius of your explosives." Spectre joked, firing off the rounds left in his weapon at the SPEC-OPS, "Our prime objective is Sherry Birkin's blood."

"You know what I mean! Move your ass, dipshit!

"Lupo, I'll cover him, so—-"

"Four Eyes, stay back! You'll need the advantage of numbers, I'll be fine! I'll meet up with y'all once I get rid of them, so give me that thing!" Realizing what he meant, Four Eyes rummaged through her pack and tossed a pouch towards him.

In the pouch were six grenade rounds "This better work," Beltway muttered to himself, "it's a product of our first cooperative operation. Don't fail me now." Pressing one of the rounds against his forehead as if he were praying, he fired off the first round once he made sure the wind was blowing against his back. Flying in a large arc, it fell at the feet of SPEC-OPS soldiers trying to cut the others off. The round began to spout a cloud of red mist. Thinking it to be a smoke grenade, they pressed on. There were infected, but not as many. Cornering them would not be a problem.

However they failed to realize that it was more than just smokescreen. The infected turned their heads towards the soldiers, and began targeting them above all others. Seeing its effects take place, Beltway pumped his fist in joy. "How ya like them pheromone fumes, bitches!?" It was working. He can win. Letting the pheromone gas spread a little more, he began setting up laser mines and antipersonnel mines quickly while the soldiers were distracted and moved to a better vantage point, blowing them up with regular grenades.

Beltway was never a religious man, and had never prayed in his life. But right now, he was praying to any god, every being known to be in a position of a higher power. All he needed was the time and strength to hold out until Viper could recover. Everything else could wait. "Alright, ya sons of bitches?! Who the fuck's next?!" With a maniacal laugh and provoking words, he fired off more pheromone-grenades.