A/N: Given that today is my birthday, I can't think of a better way than to give you guys another, much anticipated chapter. And with what will be coming in the next few installments, it's going to bring the thrill factor to a level that Resident Evil is known for.

Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.

Chapter 41:

"Survival can be summed up into three words, never give up. That's the heart of it." - Bear Grylls

Every door off of the lengthy corridor was locked, with the exception of a utility closet past the elevator; there, they found absolutely nothing of interest, unless shelves of paper towels and styrene coffee cups were interesting.

They tried the elevator again, with no luck, and there didn't seem to be a fuse box or override switch anywhere near it. Not surprising, considering the override controls were more than likely at the heart of the facility

Ethan glanced at the other two periodically. John's face was a blank slate, but he could clearly see the irritation at their situation in and around his eyes. The man may have been a jokester, but he knew that it was a defense mechanism to handle the stress of what they had to endure, even stretching it out to the others to take their minds off things

As for Leon, he wore his emotions clear as day. Despite his earlier words of encouragement, it was easy to see that he was worried about the others. Ethan was just as concerned, even more so, not knowing what David and the girls were dealing with back on the surface if Reston called in reinforcements.

They needed to get things settled down here, and quickly.

"What do you say if we run across one more locked door, we use up our grenades? I've got two of 'em," John said, irritation mounting even more. They'd just tried the ninth door in the silent hall, and were almost to the northernmost curve. For all they knew, they'd already passed Reston, or the passage that would lead them to him.

"Let's at least see what's around the corner before we start doing that." Ethan said, his own patience wearing out.

As much as he wanted to blow up some Umbrella property, it wasn't their priority. Reuniting the team was. The decision had been made that if they didn't find Reston soon, they'd go back to the cafeteria and try to get one of the workers to fix the elevator, and to hell with Reston; the mission would be a bust, but at least they'd all be alive to fight another day.

They reached the corner and paused, John raising the M-16 and lowering his voice. "I'll cover?"

Ethan nodded, "Leon, inner wall, I'll back you both up." Leon got into position as John counted down. "On three. One...two...three..."

They took running steps away from the wall, John dropping into a crouch and pointing his semi down the west leg of the corridor whipping the rifle around the corner. The hall was a lot shorter, no more than sixty feet, dead-ending in an open, doorless room. There was a door on the left...

...and somebody moved across the opening at the end of the hall, the darting shape of a man.

Reston.

Leon saw him too, a thin guy, not too tall, wearing jeans and a blue work shirt. Mr. Blue, just like they said...

"Hold it!" John shouted, and Reston turned, startled and weaponless. He saw the M-16 and jumped away from the double-wide opening, maybe heading for an exit.

All three of them sprinted after him, Ethan and Leon keeping pace with one another with John passing them by an inch a moment later. They were inside the room in a flash and there was Reston, pushing desperately at a door on the right. He threw a terrified glance over his shoulder as they barreled into the room, his eyes wide with panic.

"It won't open!" He screamed, his voice on the edge of hysteria. "Open the door!"

'Who's he talking to?', Ethan thought, weapon aimed at the man. Seeing the man's panic and desperate attempts to escape, yelling to someone they couldn't see...His eyes widened when he realized what was happening.

"He's not Reston! IT'S A TR-"

Behind them, a metal sheet crashed down over the opening, shutting them into the room with a brutal, heavy clang. Leon looked down, saw that the floor was plate steel, and felt the first stab of unease.

The man spun around, his hands in the air, his narrow features contorted with fear. "I'm not him, not Reston," he babbled, his pale face slick with sweat.

A face appeared at the window in the metal door, distorted by the thick plexiglass but obviously grinning. An older man, dressed in a dark blue suit...

"Fuck..." Ethan growled, aiming his G36 at the window but knowing deep down that the 5.56 NATO rounds wouldn't penetrate the material.

The man looked away for a moment, one hand reaching up to touch something they couldn't see, and a smooth, cultured voice floated into the room from a speaker in the ceiling; "Sorry, Henry," the man said, his moving face warped by the glass. "And allow me to introduce myself. I am Jay Reston. And whoever you are, I'm very glad to meet you. Welcome to the Planet's test program."

Leon looked at John, who was still pointing his rifle at the near hysterical Henry, then at Ethan who was aiming at Reston's shielded face. The full weight of what had happened dawning on all of them...and they were in extremely deep shit...

X

'Yes!'

Reston laughed giddily. The gunmen were trapped, and the three on the surface were probably already being picked up by the teams, he'd handled his situation, and handled it brilliantly.

Of course it's no fun if there's no one around to appreciate it...but then, he had a captive audience now, didn't he?

"We're not scheduled to go on line for another twenty-three days," Reston said, smiling widely, already imagining the look on Sidney's bloated face. "At which time, I was going to host the initial run of our carefully designed program for a group of extremely important people. It was going to be spedmen only, we hadn't planned on putting humans through the phases for a while yet, let alone soldiers. But now, thanks to you, I'll be able to show my little party actual footage of what our specimens were created for. By now, your friends on the surface will have been taken, sad to say, but the four of you will suffice, I think. Yes, you'll do quite nicely."

Reston laughed again, unable to contain it. "You may want to kill Henry before you start, though, he'll only drag you down, and he did lure you in, didn't he?"

"You fucking bastard!" Henry Cole pushed away from the wall and flew at the door, pounding on it with his fists. The two-inch metal didn't even rattle in the frame.

Reston shook his head, still grinning. "I am sorry, Henry; we'll miss you terribly. You never did finish with the intercom system, did you? Or the audio...at least you hooked up this one, for which I can't thank you enough. Is it clear enough in there? Getting any static?"

Whatever demon had possessed the electrician fled, the man collapsing against the door, breathing raggedly. The bigger of the three armed men, the burly dark-skinned one, stepped toward the window with a menacing expression.

"You're not gonna get us to go through any tests for you," he said, his deep voice quivering with rage. "Go ahead and kill us, 'cause we're not alone, and Umbrella's going down, whether or not we're around to see it happen."

Reston sighed. "Well, you're right about not being around. But as to the rest...you're some of those STARS people, aren't you? You and your grassroots campaign are nothing to us; you're mosquitoes, an annoyance. And you will participate-"

"Participate this," he spat, grabbing his crotch. Even through the thick plexi, the gesture was unmistakable.

'Vulgar. Young people today, no respect for their betters.' the man thought shaking his head.

"John, why don't you break out one of those frag grenades?" one of the other ones said coolly, at which point Reston sighed again.

"The walls are plaster-coated steel, and the door will withstand a lot more than you could possibly have. You'd only succeed in blowing yourselves up. It would be a pity, but if you must, you must."

They didn't seem to have a smart reply to that. No one spoke, although Reston could still hear the troubled gasps coming from Cole through the intercom. Then the last gunman approached the glass, easily younger than both of his partners as he stood leering through the wraped glass that separated the two of them.

"You don't know what you're dealing with, Reston." he said in a deadly calm voice. "In the last three months, I've killed Umbrella higher ups that were far more dangerous than you. Two of them had been transformed into BOWs because of their own creations. You? You're nothing but an old fucker given too much power."

He stepped away from the glass slowly, "Enjoy you're moment of victory, because it won't last. When we get out of here...we're all going to have a nice, long, chat..." he finished his statement by punching the window. Reston stumbled back wide eyed when the glass actually cracked

Slowing his jolted heartrate, the man fixed his suit and stared back at the captured men. "If you gentlemen will excuse me. I have other business to attend to, like releasing our pets into their new homes. Rest assured, though, I'll be watching your debut; try to make it through at least two of the phases, if you can."

Reston stepped away from the window to the control panel on the left, and punched in the activation code. One of the men started shouting that they wouldn't go through with it, that he couldn't make them...

...and then Reston hit the large green button, the one that simultaneously opened the hatch into One, and released a spray of tear gas into the small anteroom from vents in the high ceiling. He stepped back to the window, interested to see how effective the process was.

Within seconds, a white haze came pouring down from above, obscuring the four men. Reston heard shouts and coughing, and a second later he heard the hatch lock down, which meant they were through. The pressure plates in the floor thus unencumbered, there was a low hiss as the ventilation system kicked on, clearing the room of mist in under a minute.

Nice. He'd have to remember to commend whichever designer had recommended it.

"I'll make a note," Reston said to no one in particular. He smoothed his lapels and turned to walk back to control, excited to see how well the men would fare against the newest additions to the Umbrella family.

X

Cole had no choice but to stumble after the killers, choking and nauseous, his heart sick with dread and hate.

He'd been abandoned to death by Reston, the man had even encouraged the assassins to kill him, he no longer knew if they even were assassins, he didn't know who the 'STARS' were supposed to be, he didn't know anything except that his eyes were burning and he couldn't breathe.

Through the hatch into One, the door snapping closed behind him. Cole fell back against the cool metal, struggling to catch his breath, gummy tears leaking from beneath his closed lids. He didn't want to see them pull the trigger, he'd rather not have to suffer suspense before he died; dying was plenty enough.

Maybe he would be lucky and just leave him there...maybe...

The small hope that the thought brought him was stamped out immediately as a big, rough hand latched on to his arm and shook him. "Hey, wake up!"

Cole reluctantly opened his watering eyes, blinking rapidly. The big black guy was staring down at him, looking mad enough to start hitting. His rifle was pointed at Cole's chest. "Want to explain what the hell this place is?"

The electrician shrank against the door. His voice came out in a stammer. "Ph-Phase One. F-Forest."

The man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, forest, I got that. Why, though?"

Jesus, he's huge! The guy had muscles on his muscles. Cole shook his head, sure that he was about to be severely beaten but not sure what the man was asking.

One of the other ones approached the two of them, wiping his face with a black skullcap. "Easy, John. Reston obviously used him and screwed him over. I doubt he'll be much of a threat." he turned his attention to Cole, "Your name's Henry, right?"

Cole nodded, desperate not to piss anyone off. "Yeah, Henry Cole, Reston told me you were here to kill him and he told me to stand in there, he was just going to lock you guys up, swear to God I didn't know he was gonna do this-"

The smaller man held up his hand, "Easy, we get it. The name's Ethan Mercer. The one behind me is Leon Kennedy and this is John Andrews. We didn't come here to kill Reston-"

"Shoulda, though," John rumbled, looking around them.

Ethan went on as if he hadn't spoken. "-or anyone else. We just wanted something Reston has in his possession." he looked around for a second, "You're obviously one of the workers that helped maintain the facility, is there anything you can tell us about it or the training program we're now in?"

Cole swallowed, wiping at the water on his face. He seemed sincere...

'And what are your options here?' he thought to himself, 'You can get shot, get left behind, or work with these guys. They've got guns, and Reston said the test specimens were designed to fight people and...oh shit how'd I wind up in this mess?'

Cole looked around at One, amazed at how different it seemed now that he was locked in, how...menacing. The towering artificial trees, the plastic underbrush and fallen synthetic logs, with the subdued lighting and humidified air, the dark walls and painted ceiling, it almost felt like a real forest at twilight.

"I don't know a whole lot," Cole said, looking at the three before him. "There are four phases; woods, desert, mountains, city. They're all big, each one's like two football fields, side by side, I forget the exact measurements. Word is that they're supposed to be suitable habitats for these hybrid test animals; they're even gonna stock them with live food, mice and rabbits and such. Umbrella's testing out some kind of disease-control thing, and the test animals are supposed to have similar circulatory systems to humans, something like that, it'll make good study material..."

He trailed off, noticing the look that the three men exchanged when he'd started talking about the test creatures.

"BOW testing sites..." Ethan said looking around the fake forest again. "Each phase must enhance their natural abilities in real-life settings for the best results."

John's expression was neutral as he spoke to Cole, "You really believe that bullshit, Henry?" he asked, not sounding pissed anymore.

"I..." Cole muttered, then closed his mouth, thinking. About the incredible pay and the don't-ask policy. About the questions from whoever was supervising on any given job...and about the prison cells...and the restraints...

"Are you happy working here? Do you feel that you're getting paid enough?"

"No," he said after a moment or two, and felt a rush of shame at his deliberate ignorance. He should have known, would have known if he'd had the guts to take a closer look. "No, I don't. Not anymore."

The trio nodded, and Cole was relieved to see John alter the position of the gun slightly, pointing it away.

"So do you know how to get out of here?" Leon asked, speaking to him for the first time.

Cole nodded. "Yeah, sure. All of the phases have connecting doors, in alternating corners. They're latched shut is all, no keys or anything, except for the last one, Four, it's bolted on the outside."

"So the door we'll want is that way?" Ethan asked, pointing southwest. They were in the northeast corner. From where they stood, the far wall wasn't even visible, the fake woods were so dense. Cole knew there was at least one decent-sized clearing, but it would still be a hike to get through.

He nodded.

"Can you tell us about these test animals? Can you describe them?" John asked.

"I never saw 'em, I was just here to do the wiring, cams and conduits, like that." He looked between the three men hopefully. "But how bad could they be, right?"

The expressions on their faces weren't encouraging. Cole started to ask what they could tell him when a loud, metallic clattering filled the moist air, like a giant gate being raised. It came from the back, the west wall, where Cole knew the animal pens were kept...

...and a second later, a shrill, piercing shriek cut through the air, a long and warbling note that was quickly joined by another, and another, and then too many to tell apart.

There was a beating sound, too, so huge that for a moment, Cole couldn't place it, and when he did, he felt a little like screaming.

Wings. The sound of gigantic wings beating the air.

X

They were fifteen feet off the ground, atop a double row of wooden crates in one corner of the warehouse. Even the slightest movement made them sway a little, which made Claire deeply uneasy.

'Not enough that Ethan, John and Leon are gone, or that we're hiding from a bunch of Umbrella goons. No, we have to be stuck on Mount Precarious in a pitch-black icebox. One of us sneezes too hard and we all go down.' she thought anxiously.

"This sucks," she whispered, as much to break the tense silence as to vent. The helicopter noise had stopped, but they hadn't heard anyone outside yet either.

She was surprised to feel Rebecca's body quaking next to hers, and to hear a muffled giggle; the young biochemist was trying to suppress it, and wasn't having an easy time. Claire grinned, absurdly pleased.

A few seconds passed, and Rebecca managed to say, "Yes. You're so right," and then they were both choking back laughter. The boxes teetered gently.

"Please." David said, sounding edgy. He was on top of the second stack of crates, on Rebecca's other side.

Claire and Rebecca quieted down, and again a waiting silence fell over them. They were in the northeast corner, both on their stomachs, handguns pointed toward the wall across from them in the general direction of the other door. David said there were two; he was facing south, covering the one they'd entered by.

The tension-breaking giggle fit had relaxed Claire a little. She was still cold, still afraid for the others, but their situation didn't seem so terrible. Bad, definitely, but she'd been in much worse circumstances.

Outside of the warehouse, a noise. Someone was pulling at the door that she and Rebecca were covering; a quick, rattling shake and then silence again, except Claire thought she heard footsteps now, padding against the ground outside.

Checking doors. And if David's lock-rigging isn't convincing, or they happen to look closely...

At least it was David covering them; he was amazing, cool and efficient, and with as quick a mind as Ethan's had been during their escapades through Raccoon. It was like he knew just what to do, instantly, no matter what happened. Even now, David had said that they'd probably be doing a straight-across sweep, starting at one end or the other and checking each building in teams.

'Military strategist, no kidding.' Claire ran over what he'd told them again, not so much a plan as a what-if list. But still, just having something to concentrate on was a relief.

'If only one team comes in, three or less, we stay quiet, don't move until they leave, head to the door across from where they entered and wait. When we hear them on the other side, we head out and run for the fence. If they come in and spot us, we shoot; we pick off the others one at a time as they come through the door, then climb down, then run.' she listed off.

'If there are two or more teams, wait until David throws the grenade and then shoot; same if they've got night-vision, the grenade will blind them. If they manage to return fire, we climb down the back, use the crates as cover-'

The other variables disappeared as she heard the other door being shaken. Shaken, and then kicked.

Thunk!

The door blew open, a square of pale light appearing in the blackness. The bright beam of a flashlight pierced the dark, flitting across a wall of boxes, then turning back toward the door.

A soft click, and then a whispered curse.

"What?" A different voice, also whispering.

"Lights are out." A pause, and then, "Well, come on. They're probably in the other one anyway, they didn't get all the way through the lock on this one."

Thank God. Way to go, David. The two were going to search, but they didn't suspect their presence.

A second beam appeared, and Claire could see the vaguest human shapes silhouetted behind the two powerful lights, both of them men by the voices. They started to move forward, the beams dancing over the stacks of boxes and crates.

'Stay quiet, don't move, wait.' Claire closed her eyes, not wanting for either of the men to feel watched; she'd heard once that that was the trick to hiding. Not to look.

"I'll take south," one of the voices whispered, and Claire wondered if they had any idea how well sound carried in the open space.

'We can hear you, numbnuts.' A funny thought, but she was scared. At least the zombies hadn't had guns.

The lights split, one heading away from them, the other turning in their direction. It stayed low, at least; whoever was holding the flashlight apparently didn't realize that people could climb boxes.

'Fine by me, just hurry up and get out of here, let us sneak out of this without having to fight!' David said that they'd come back for John and Leon when Umbrella had cleared out; he said they'd probably post a guard, maybe two, but that taking out a guard would be a lot easier than taking out an entire squad-

-a light was shining in Claire's face, the blinding beam hitting her closed eyelids.

"Hey!" A surprised shout from below.

Bam! A shot fired, and she felt as much as heard something beneath her give. Rebecca gasped, as the tower of boxes tipped backwards.

Claire's back hit the wall and she grabbed at the shifting crate they'd been lying on, a chorus of shouts coming from outside, the orange burst of thundering muzzle fire coming from David's weapon...

...and with a shuddering crash, all the crates went tumbling down, and Claire plummeted into the dark.

X

When he heard the mighty flap of wings and the shrieking cries, Ethan felt his insides go cold and his senses spike. The last time he encountered a flying BOW was back at the training facility with Rebecca and Billy, the giant bat-creature they saw and chose to flee from instead of fighting.

But the situation was different. First, they were in a large, enclosed space with the only exit being on the other side with a faux and sterile forest inbetween. Second, from the shrieking calls they had heard, there was definitely more than one...

"Balls," John said, raising his M-16 skyward, pressing the plastic stock tight against his shoulder. Leon's was also pointed up, the ceiling at least fifteen feet above where the tallest trees stopped and painted a deep twilight blue.

The trees ranged in height from ten to maybe twenty-five, thirty feet, and at the very top, Ethan could make out what seemed to be perching 'branches' grafted on, each as big around as a basketball.

'Made for large talons...' the traveler deduced, his own rifles barrel aimed at the treetops as he scanned for anything moving amongst or above them.

The piping screams had stopped, and none of them could hear the beat of wings anymore, but they wondered how long it would be before the creatures decided to look for prey.

"Pterodactyls, gotta be," Cole whispered, his voice cracking. "Dacs. That's what the researchers called them..."

"You're fucking kidding," John breathed, and could see the skinny Umbrella worker shake his head in his peripheral vision.

"Let's head for that door," Leon said, already edging into the false, shadowy woods.

Ethan started after him, ten, fifteen feet, keeping his eyes upward and watching his step at the same time. He heard John trip almost immediately, the large man's boot kicking against a molded plastic rock, and barely catching himself from face planting.

"This ain't gonna work," he said. "Cole...Henry?"

He glanced back and saw that Cole was still huddled against the hatch, his pale, weasely face turned up to the realistic sky/ceiling.

Leon had stopped and was waiting, peering up into the spaced branches. "Gotcha covered." he said. Ethan nodded in agreement, keeping a look out in the opposite direction.

John walked back, clearly angry, frustrated and seriously uncomfortable; they were in a tight spot, David and the girls could very well be fighting for their lives on the surface, and he wasn't going to waste time coddling some freaked-out Umbrella hump. Still, they couldn't just leave him behind, at least not without making an effort.

"Henry. Hey, Cole." John reached out and tapped his arm, and Cole finally looked at him. His mild brown eyes were positively glassy with fear.

John sighed, feeling a little pity for the guy. He was an electrician, for Christ's sake, and it seemed that ignorance had been his only real crime.

"Look. I understand you're scared, but if you stay here, you're going to get killed. Leon, Ethan and I have all had run-ins with Umbrella pets; your best chance is to come with us, and besides, we could use your help, you know more about this place than we do. Okay?"

Cole nodded shakily. "Yeah, okay. Sorry. I just...I'm scared shitless right now."

"Join the club. Birds give me the creeps. The flying part's cool, but they're so weird, got those beady eyes and scaly feet, and have you ever seen a buzzard? They got scrotum heads." John mock-shivered, and saw Cole relax a little bit, even trying on a quivery smile.

Ethan and Leon both smiled, bless the man's sense of humor for when it mattered most.

"Okay," Cole said again, more firmly. They walked back to where the other two were standing, still watching the air above.

"Henry, since we got the guns, how 'bout you lead?" Ethan asked. "You've got the insight of these testing areas having worked on them, John, Leon and I will keep watch. We'll need a clear route so we won't have to worry about tripping over stuff. Think you can handle it?"

Cole nodded, and though he still looked too pale, the traveler could see that he would hold together. For a while, anyway.

Their guide stepped in front of Leon and headed roughly southwest, weaving a crooked path through the strange forest. The trio followed, spread out so that they could cover each other's blind spots and have the best view of both the air and the ground.

The Dacs, as Cole called them, hadn't put in an appearance or made any other sound. The plastic forest was a bizarre, seeing the realistic-looking trees and undergrowth, feeling the moisture in the air, but also being aware that there were no smells of earth or growing things, no wind or tiny sounds of movement, no bugs. It was a dream-like experience, and an unnerving one.

'Almost like a habitat at a zoo.' Ethan thought as he watched the synthetic leaves of the trees. If there was no wind, and they moved, then something was responsible for it. When Cole stopped, they all did almost immediately.

"We're...there's kind of a clearing here," he said, his voice shaking.

Leon turned, frowning at the ex-STARS'. "Should we skirt it?"

John stepped forward, peering through the seemingly random scatter of trees to the opening ahead. It was at least fifty feet across, but it was better they go out of their way; being dive-bombed by a pterodactyl didn't sound like fun at all.

"Yeah. Henry, veer right. We're going to-"

The rest of his words were lost as that high, warbling screech blasted through the unnatural forest, and a brown-gray shape dove into the clearing and flew at them, extending talons a foot across.

Ethan saw a wingspan of eight or ten feet, the leathery wings tipped with curved hooks. He saw a screaming, toothed beak and a slender elongated skull, flat black eyes the size of saucers, glittering...

All three of them opened fire as the creature hit the line of artificial trees in front of them, its huge claws gouging into the solid plastic. It held on, spreading its vast membranous wings in a struggle to balance as holes punched through the thin flesh, streamers of watery blood trickling down from the openings.

The animal screamed, so close that no one could hear the bullets, couldn't hear anything but that quavering, high-pitched shriek...and then it dropped, landing on the dark floor, pulling its wings in...

And walking toward them on its elbows, like a bat, moving jerkily through the shredded trees, shrieking in short, sharp barks of sound.

Behind it, another dropped into the clearing, gusting odorless wind across them as its wide wings folded closed, its long, pointed beak opening and revealing nubs of grinding teeth.

'Dammit!' Ethan shouted in his head as he brought the G36 up, flicking the fire-selector to semi-auto and getting a lock on the closest creature's bobbing head before pulled the trigger.

X

The youngest one, Ethan, pointed his rifle at the Avl and fired. The Dac's aquiline skull blew out the other side, dark fluids spattering across the freshly painted trees. One of the eyes popping like a water balloon when the bullet tore through.

'Damn. Low threshold; it's those hollow bones...'

Reston watched as the other gunmen pointed their weapons at a second Dac that had landed in the clearing. Even without sound, Reston could see the weapons kick, hitting the specimen in its narrow chest. The Dac's slender neck curved wildly back and forth, a squiggling dance of death before it sprawled, bleeding, against the ground.

He didn't see any more of the animals touch down, but the three men were retreating, stumbling back into the woods. Poor Cole seemed quite undone, his mouth open in a silent howl, his lank brown hair practically plastered to his head with sweat, his limbs quaking.

Serves him right for not getting to the audio. The lack of sound was annoying, although he supposed the footage wouldn't suffer for it. People knew what bullets and screams sounded like already.

The four were moving out of range, heading west now. Reston switched cameras from the one in the tree to a long shot from the north wall. It was clear that Cole was trying to lead them to the connecting door, although he obviously didn't remember that a second, larger clearing was now in their path. For the moment, though, the Dacs had also pulled back; they generally gravitated toward open spaces. The gunmen had only killed two, which meant that there would be six healthy specimens to greet them in the 'meadow'.

Reston had released all of the creatures into their habitats just after the call had come on the cell line from a Sergeant Steve Hawkinson, the man who was leading the surface effort.

He had informed Reston only that two Umbrella teams, nine men, including himself, were starting a sweep of the compound, and that the fugitives' transport had been spotted; the three were still in the area unless they had a second vehicle, a highly unlikely possibility. Reston told him that the entry's camera had been covered by one of them and asked for an update as soon as anything turned up, then settled in to watch the show.

He poured himself another brandy as he watched the four weave slowly through the trees, John and Ethan with their weapons pointed above, the other scanning the shadows around them...

'He needs a name, too. We have Henry, John, Ethan and...Red? His hair is sort of reddish.'

Not really, but it would do, just as 'Dac' worked for the Av1s. There was no relation to pterodactyls, of course, and the 'Av' was for 'Aves', birds, and in fact, the Dacs were closer to bats than anything. There were just too many in the mammal series already.

At the request of Jackson himself, the specimen growers had added some new classifications or clarity's sake, using some of the secondary contributors to that series' gene pool. Like the Spitters, who were closer to snakes than to goats, but had been labeled Ca6s, for Capra, because of the cloven hooves...

'And the Dacs do look like pterodactyls, or at least our modern concept of them,' Reston thought, looking at the screen that showed the cage entrance. Two of the animals were still inside. The streamlined, muscular body and the narrow beak, the bone 'comb' on the top of the head, the fibrous wings...they were really quite elegant in a brutal sort of way.

The two in the massive behind-the-scenes 'cave' were clearly agitated by all of the excitement, crawling back and forth on their folded wings and swinging their heads from side to side. Reston didn't know much from the biological end, but he knew that they hunted by motion and scent, and that just two of them could take down a horse in under five minutes.

Not so efficient being shot at, however.

It didn't make a difference, really. The Av1s had been created for third-world situations, where machetes still outnumbered rifles. It was too bad that they died so quickly, the handlers would be disappointed by the loss, but they would have been tested against firepower eventually anyway.

And speaking of...

The four men were getting close to the clearing, moving out of the north camera's view. That would be where the Dacs would make their play. Reston leaned in to watch, realizing that the scenes he was recording would make his career, and that regardless of that fact, he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

X

David opened fire as soon as the thug's light found them, hearing the single shot of a weapon down below-

-and felt the splintering of wood to his left, a flurry of splinters spraying his arm. He was too intent on taking out the shooter to stop firing, but he knew with a burst of dread that they were about to fall, that both young women would smash into the concrete if he didn't do something...

Then he was falling, too, the wooden slats beneath him disappearing suddenly, plunging him through the icy dark. David held on to his weapon, pushing his arms out and bending his knees in the half second of blind free fall...then his knees connected with cardboard, with an unseen box that collapsed beneath his weight, sparing him the worst of it.

Instantly he was on his feet, turning toward the other flashlight, which was still shining out from halfway across the warehouse, the first man already down. No time to check on Rebecca or Claire, the raised shouts from outside were almost upon them.

The torch-bearer went down in the short line of bullets David sent from the M-16, a guided four-foot arc across the darkness behind the light. The flat echoes of the rounds blasted through the alleys between boxes, and as the flashlight dropped, a single grunt of pain and surprise going down with it, David turned the gun toward the open door.

Rattatattatt!

Submachine gun fire from outside, a sweep across the door...but no one stepped inside. David moved left and sent a burst from his weapon in response, not expecting to hit anyone, the bullets crashing uselessly into the door's frame. He needed to buy them time, even if only a few seconds.

A soft, feminine groan emitted from somewhere from behind him. Making his dread mount even higher.

"Rebecca! Claire! Sound off!" He whispered harshly, still watching the pale, empty square of open door.

"Here. Claire, I mean, I'm okay but I think Rebecca's hurt..."

'Dammit!'

David felt his heart skip a beat and he backed up a step, his thoughts racing, a knot of dread in his belly. It had been less than a half-minute since the first shot, but the Umbrella team would have already surrounded the building, if they were any good at all. They needed to get out before the attackers were firmly organized.

"Claire, come to me, follow my voice, I need you covering the door. You see anyone, even a shadow, shoot to kill. Understood?"

He heard her shuffling movements as he spoke and reached out for her as she came close, grabbing hold of her arm.

"Wait," he said, and let another burst from the gun fly, hammering into the wall near the door. He immediately unslung the M-16 and handed it to Claire as the submachine gun returned fire, a rattle of bullets spraying directionless into the dark.

"Can you use this?"

"Yeah..." She sounded anxious but steady enough.

"Good. As soon as I give the word, we're going to start moving for the west door; you'll be covering us."

He was already turning toward the corner, where Rebecca would be. He heard another muffled murmur of pain and fixed on it, moving quickly, dropping to his knees and feeling for the injured girl. He felt silkiness beneath one hand, Rebecca's hair, and ran both hands over her head, feeling for the sticky warmth of blood.

"Rebecca, can you speak? Do you know where you're hurt?"

A cough, and then he felt her fingers touch his arm, and knew she was all right even before she spoke. "Back of my head," she said, softly but clearly. "Possible concussion, cracked my tailbone, limbs seem okay though..."

"I'm going to help you up. If you can't walk, I'll carry you, but we have to go now-"

As if to prove his words, there was another rattle from the gunman outside, and a shout that had him moving even before it was finished.

"Fire in the hole!"

David spun, leapt up from his crouch and tackled Claire from behind, calling out, "Close your eyes!" as he closed his own in case of incendiary, praying it wasn't a shrapnel.

The whump of a grenade launcher reverberated from outside, followed by a loud pop and hiss that told him it was gas. He moved off of Claire, felt her sit up beside him, heard her ragged, frightened breathing.

'God, not sarin, soman, let them want us alive.' Within seconds, David's nose and eyes started to water viciously and he felt a wave of relief. Not nerve gas; they'd used a CN or CS tear gas. The Umbrella team was going to smoke them out.

"West door." David said, and Claire choked out an affirmative, the chemical compound disseminating quickly into the frigid air, an effective but thankfully non-lethal weapon.

He turned back and felt a hand brush across his chest. "I can walk," Rebecca said, coughing, and David threw her arm across his shoulders anyway and started for the door, moving as fast as he could through the black. He heard Claire gasping but holding her own, keeping up with them.

The Captain hurried forward, planning as he went, trying not to breathe too deeply. There'd be people at both doors, waiting...

But how close? They'll want to be right there, waiting to subdue their choking victims.

He had it. As they came to the wall, David fished into his hip bag, pulling out the smooth, round antipersonnel grenade and pulling the pin.

"Claire, Rebecca, behind me!" Already blind in the dark, the tears only hurt; they didn't interfere with his aim as he pulled his nine-millimeter and swept it in front of him, finding the door.

Bam!

He blew a hole in the door's edge, unlocking it, hearing the surprised cries of the men outside. With hardly a pause, David jerked the door open, 'How far to the fence, fifty, sixty meters?', and lobbed the grenade, a gentle toss out the door, closing it just as fast as he could, throwing his weight against it and thanking God that it was so very durable.

BOOM! the door fought with him as the impact fuse went, dirt and shrapnel slamming against it like a wild beast clawing for entrance. David held on, only a second's war but a fierce one nonetheless. The thundering boom of the M68 gave way to moans and howls of pain, barely audible over the ringing in his ears and the screaming of his breathless lungs.

"Cover to the right and head left!" He shouted, and yanked the door open, whipping the H&K from side to side. The pallid moonlight showed him only three men, all down, all hurt and screaming and still alive beyond the veil of his tears.

'Kevlar, full-body maybe...'

They'd expect a run to the front, to their escape vehicle, so David turned left. He fixed his wet gaze on the dark fence as Claire and then Rebecca tumbled out behind him, coughing and crying.

"Fence," he said, as loud as he dared, and reached back for Rebecca, sliding his arm around her waist. They stumbled over one of the fallen men, clutching at his bleeding face, and managed a shuffling run toward escape, Claire right behind. She sidled quickly after them, the M-16 aimed back toward the front of the compound.

They ran, closing the distance much faster than David could have hoped, the fence only ten yards behind the rear of the building they'd been in, the building he'd chosen because of it; the others angled toward the front, too much distance, and the first would have been too obvious.

The trio were almost to the fence when someone fired a machine gun from the darkness behind them, from the cover of the building's other side. At least one of the Umbrella team had fought logic and come around by the unexpected route.

Claire was on it, returning fire, the rapid chatter of the two automatics merging into an explosive duo. The invisible shooter was either hit or ducking as the thundering song went solo, Claire peppering the darkness with the .223s.

"Claire! Up and over!" David shouted, reaching out for the M-16. She let it go and turned, scaling the fence easily.

"Rebecca, go!" David pulled the trigger and held it, spraying bullets across the cold night, hearing return fire from seemingly everywhere at once, three, maybe four shooters-

-a cry of pain yelped behind him, from Rebecca, only halfway up the metal grid. A few drops of warmth spattered across David's face and he stopped firing, jumping to catch her before she could let go.

"Got it!" Claire shouted from the other side, and she fired through the mesh, the nine-millimeter rounds pounding and loud, David's pulse even louder.

Rebecca was pale, panting harshly, obviously in pain, but she managed to hang on to the fence, even climbing a little as David straddled the fence and lifted her up.

He half-carried her over the top, and as soon as Claire reached up to help, David turned and fired again at the oncoming attackers, still hidden in the shadows, his fury drying the last of the chemical tears.

'Bloody bastards, she's still just a girl!' his thoughts raged as he kept the trigger firmly pulled. The M-16 went dry and he jumped, then Rebecca was between them, leaning heavily on David's shoulder, and they were staggering out into the freezing desert night.

A/N: Just when you think things couldn't get any worse for the team...separated, trapped and in the unknown with BOWs and Umbrella's security forces coming down on them to top it all off, they have a massive fight on their hands to get out of this one.

And this fight has only just begun.

See you next time guys!