Tapping of keyboards and voices of varying pitches filled the large mission control room, and people were leant over each other's monitors, pointing at data lines, emails and relevant markers. Three people stood over to the side, huddled around a plastic clipboard decorated messily with paperwork, and they discussed the files before them.
At a console in the back of the room a coffee cup was heavily placed down, and the beige liquid sloshed against the lip. On the white ceramic was a navy blue circle, with a simple white image of the world. Below that sat seven stars; six solid with gold colouring, the centre one hollow and flamboyant. Red letters stamped across the middle spelled BSAA, and finally the words 'North America' graced the top of the circle. Along the bottom; Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.
A slice of half eaten toast was slapped down onto the plate accompanying the cup and a headset was scooped up off the keyboard.
Chris Redfield slipped the headset onto his brown hair, and the fixings rattled against his jaw as he chewed the savoury snack. He tapped several times on one of his monitors before tilting a hand in frustration.
"Claire?" he began, "sister dearest? Why have I just found your safety equipment inside your locker?" He patted on a bundle of harnesses, belts, tension locks and other pieces of kit on the edge of his desk. He watched the grainy footage as a hand gripped…he didn't even know anymore. He heard a feminine grunt, and the camera shifted upwards.
"Well, maybe I just forgot my equipment?" Claire mused.
"But you knew that you'd have to clear that plateau to get to the target!" Chris took another bite of toast, "You left your equipment on purpose!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full, bro." replied Claire. Her hand groped about for a hold, and pulled up more on the rock face. Chris said nothing; she did tell him to not talk with his mouth full, after all. He leant back in his seat as the rock face gave way to an indigo sky. It shifted down by maybe half a metre, and long grass was splayed apart by Claire's hands.
"I'm here." she declared quietly.
Below her position sat a bay surrounded by high cliffs and powerful winds; Chris had to tweak his volume to compensate for the whistling gust past Claire's tiny microphone.
"Moonlight, slightly cloudy night, perfect." came Claire's voice. Chris shook his head.
"Not for your visibility."
"Yeah, but that's what night vision is for." And with that Chris heard a dull rattle; his sister equipped her night vision shades.
Chris shoved the last portion of toast into his mouth, swiping the crumbs off his chin, and he rolled his chair towards the monitor.
"Alright, soon you'll have to go radio silent. You got your other communication in order?" he asked. Claire said nothing, simply gesturing in front of her camera a circle with her thumb and index finger.
"Alright." Chris enthused, "Let's run over it again. We're here to infiltrate and gather information as to whether the Care of Duty cargo ship is in fact just an unassuming cargo ship."
He flicked over some notes next to his keyboard, complete with incriminating evidence photos that the ship vessel's whistleblower had provided. Included also were images of the vessel's name and serial number, but also of large vats of…well, Chris knew all too well that these fleshy gelatinous globs used to be human.
Poor bastards.
"Not that we need more proof, I think that these photos are enough." He waited for Claire's hand gesture to show that she was listening before he continued, "but you know as well as I do that it needs to be a BSAA agent that gets visual confirmation."
He watched the cam quickly drop below another rock, before it slowly tilted aside, revealing two figures in the distance, slowly pacing. Chris moved closer towards his screen and squinted hard. Claire's hand appeared, flashing different fingers at him.
"AK-47s? Are you fucking kidding me?!" Chris worriedly glanced at his sister's 'forgotten' equipment and pushed it around. "Oh my God, Claire, you don't even have your vest! What the fuck were you thinking?!"
The camera twitched upwards, and Chris knew that this was one of his sister's stubborn shoulder shrugs.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Claire. I should be there, not you. It was my turn to be out in the field."
The camera twitched again; another shrug, and Chris threw himself backwards in his seat, exasperated.
"Just be careful, Claire Bear." She scurried silently across the dockyard. "I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you."
There was a pause in movement on the cam, and Claire's hands appeared again, with thumb pads pressed together and the fingers of both hands curled around so that her nails were touching; a love heart. Chris smiled thinly and nodded.
"I love you too, sis. Please be careful. Aside from me in HQ, you're on your own. No one will be coming out there if you drop the ball." His voice shook in his throat, and he gulped the vibrations away. Why was he so…apprehensive about this mission?
He pushed the paperwork on his desk, spreading about to view each image. It all made sense, all of the images made it clear that this was the real deal, but why was his stomach churning so? The toast he had eaten wasn't mouldy, the milk in the coffee was not curdled, so why did he not feel too hot? Why did his chest feel tight? He observed through the cam as his sister slipped unnoticed onto the ship…how did she get on board so easily?
"I'm a little concerned about how easy that was…" he fretted to Claire. She didn't reply to him, hand signals or otherwise, but instead she pointed at a door over the other side of the deck. He squinted before thumbing through the photos.
"Yeah, head that way, the evidence you need is a few decks down, so lay below. But Claire…"
She crouched down behind a square metal container and waited for him to continue. Chris picked up some veggie chips and opened the packet before tossing it back down. An armed man paced by his sister a few metres away, and he swore that the man had glanced at Claire. A few seconds later another gun toting guy filed past, and also seemingly glimpsed at her.
"I don't know if you saw, but they looked like they were looking right at you. Shit, Claire, something doesn't feel right. It's almost like they're letting you in." Chris mumbled. The camera fumbled downwards slightly, and before long, Chris' phone beeped.
A text.
He swiped and saw that it was from Claire;
I'll be fine, bro. We need to look into this, and I will complete this mission.
"Claire, I got your message." Chris sighed and fidgeted with his headset, lowering his voice. "Don't you think you slipped in way too easily? This bioterrorism group is well known for their high security, but you've barely been hindered, and it looks like you've been spotted but they just don't care. Several times, I'll add. I think we should abort this mission. It's almost like they want you there, and I don't like it."
Beep.
It's ok, Chris, maybe they're just being lax.
"No, Claire, you don't understand, something isn't right, it doesn't add up at all, and I've got that gut feeling."
You ate a chilli dog last night, you probably need to take a shit.
"No, Claire, I- ugh, I've been to the bathroom, it's not the chilli dog. Please. Either be very careful and vigilant or get the fuck out of there. You matter to me more than this mission does. More than any mission does."
For a while there was nothing, no texts or hand gestures, and Chris massaged his temples to encourage that stress headache to fuck off. He clicked his tongue and another message graced his phone screen;
We need to complete this mission. I'm already here now. But just know that nothing matters to me more than you do, big guy.
He smiled and felt a comforting warmth fill his chest.
"I think we need to stop with this smushy stuff for now. Get the mission done, and come home, you hear me? I'll treat you to a steak and wine night with a movie."
She gave a thumbs up.
"Ok, no more chit-chat, let's get to it. Firstly, find physical evidence of bioterrorism." He poured some veggie chips into his mouth and crunched loudly. "Shekunwy-"
Claire gave him the middle finger over her cam; she hated it when anyone spoke with food in their mouth, and her brother was not immune by any stretch.
"Sowwy." Chris swallowed the chewed up chips, "Secondly, place trackers. We can't destroy the biohazards without knowing what we're fully dealing with. We don't want any spills."
Claire's cam wobbled with a nod.
"Lastly. Get out in one piece. Come back. If things start looking bad, just get the hell out."
You're convinced something is going to happen. I'll look after myself, don't worry. I'm not a little girl anymore.
She was right. She was now 25 years old, the same age as he when Wesker tricked his team back in Raccoon City. He loved her, adored her, he'd walk through fire and chop his fingers off for her, but she was forever reminding him that she was no longer the quiet, shy, emotional little girl that she used to be. He rubbed his nose; damn, when did his baby sister grow up?
He watched her slip silently through a door, and slinked as silently as a cat in the night down a set of metal stairs.
She reached the bottom of the flight onto a dimly lit corridor; the walls were lined with rusty pipes, dripping leaks, and a light bulb flickered down one side. The camera scanned back and forth, before signalling from Claire's fingers blocked the view.
"Oh, er…" Chris bolted upright in his seat and rummaged through the paperwork, until he found a floor plan. "Left. Go left to the end, and there will be another flight going down."
Claire followed his directions and crouched down the hallway, frequently checking her surroundings until she reached the stairs. Her cam peered down them and, satisfied that the coast was clear, she trod lightly down them.
"Ok, from here, the room looks like it's two doors down. On the right." Chris explained.
Claire gave an ok, but ducked down out of sight of another armed guard.
"Claire…fuck, he definitely saw you, he was even grinning at you. What the hell is going on?" He hissed. He picked the files up, nervously shuffled them about and placed them back down in front of him. Claire didn't respond, and she approached the doorway, checking further down the corridor, then back into the room before finally sneaking inside.
She scurried into the corner to the right and squatted, allowing Chris to see the whole room through the camera.
"Holy mother of…" Chris gasped, and he slowly leant in towards the screen.
There were seven tall glass chambers, just like the ones he had seen back in the Spencer Mansion and on Rockfort Island. He shuddered at the memories, and just like his memories, each chamber housed a tall, sexless bio weapon that used to be human. Each one of them had large pulsating hearts, except for the one on the far end.
"Claire, walk by all of them, we need to capture all of this as evidence." commanded Chris, and Claire silently obeyed, she even lifted the camera out of its mount and angled it to cover each one.
"T-304, T-207…Chris," Claire whispered, "these aren't anything like either of us have seen before. These are new, maybe even improved versions."
"Maybe we should destroy it after all." Chris stated, but was interrupted by a gasp from Claire.
"Oh my fucking God…" she breathed.
She squeezed between two pods and angled her cam, and what showed made Chris' pulse speed up.
"There's…Jesus, this isn't a small room, this is a cargo hold! There's got to be hundreds of them!" Chris' eyes rapidly scanned the screen, but the Tyrant closest to Claire's left made him freeze solid in his seat.
It had opened its eyes, and it was looking directly at Claire.
"Claire…abort the mission. Now. Get out. You've seen enough."
"I still need to-"
A smash close by cut her words off, and sharp fragments and fluid showered the Redfield woman. Chris launched forward at his desk, grasping the surface so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Claire twisted around, but Chris only saw a pale figure with its external heart pulsating. She ducked and ran, and Chris knew straight away that this was the same Tyrant model as the one he saw in the Spencer Mansion; T-002. Claire turned back and held her camera up, capturing everything she could of the eight foot bio weapon. Yeah, this was a T-002 for sure. Its missed attack had plunged into another chamber; it hadn't driven its mutated appendage far enough in to damage the Tyrant in this one, but it too had awoken, and more glass smashing and splashing of the housing fluids were heard around her.
"Claire! Get out! NOW!" Chris shouted. He didn't care for several of his colleagues turning to look at him in alarm. He cried out sharply as Claire was knocked off her feet and sent barrelling into the corner, yelping as she landed.
The camera had come flying out of her hand, but to Chris' horror it had landed exactly to face her and the slowly approaching T-002. She was grimacing, clutching at a profusely bleeding wound on her shoulder. Chris felt hands on his arms, and the faces of Jill Valentine and Barry Burton appeared either side of him, both looking worriedly at the monitor.
Another Tyrant, one that Chris didn't recognise but still had similar build to the T-002, ran into view and lifted Claire up by the throat, and the blood from her shoulder wound spattered loudly on the floor. She made no sound, it was impossible for her, the Tyrant's grip around her voice-box prevented her. She weakly bashed a fist against its arm; akin to a tiny child hitting the arm of an adult. Chris pushed himself out of his seat and began attaching Claire's equipment to himself, pulling at the braces to loosen for fit.
"What are you doing?" Jill asked. Chris looked back at his monitor when an alarm sounded. Claire's camera slowly slid towards her and flipped twice, pointing back to the capsules. A bulkhead began to slowly descend in the blinks of red flashes and screeching alarms, and the two bioweapons sluggishly paced back toward their capsules, dipping down under the bulkhead.
Blood dripped in front of the camera, and it lifted up into the air.
"Claire, are you ok?!" Chris half shouted.
"You want my honest answer? No!" Claire gasped and panted. She held the camera to show him her shoulder, and his heart hurt from the whimper in her breathing as a deep slash, several inches long, came into view. Not a band aid fix, that wound needed surgery, and Chris' stomach churned disgustingly at the thought.
"Oh no…" she murmured, "the door out was on the other side of that bulkhead…"
"Claire, I'm on my way." Chris declared bluntly.
"Miss Redfield." A sneering voice spoke over the ship's tannoy system, and Claire moved her head side to side. She groaned and looked again at the wound on her shoulder as more snickering sounded all around her.
"I must say, Miss Redfield. I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here. I was expecting your dear brother." The voice said again. Jill gasped and Barry swore in disbelief. Claire confirmed herself who the person was before any of the three in HQ could utter the name.
"Wesker?" Claire questioned, but of course she knew she had answered herself.
"Indeed." Wesker stated. A loud thud was heard beside Claire, and she scrambled away on her butt with a shriek.
"Wait…that's-!" Barry shouted.
"This is who you're looking for, Miss Redfield, or am I mistaken?"
The dead man was barely recognisable through his swollen face, and a gaping hole in his chest was evidence that his heart had been torn out. He was the whistleblower, the man who had signed up for a job with a cargo company, not realising exactly what he'd have to deal with. He had asked the BSAA for protection, and it was clear that they had failed him.
"Barry, get a chopper ready." Chris quietly commanded as he fastened more equipment to himself. Barry looked around the room and nodded, calmly walking away.
"I'll get together the equipment." Jill declared, and she too left.
"What a shame," Wesker's voice rang out, "he could still be alive if he had been smarter about how he sent all of my lovely information to yourselves, but I digress…"
The hold rumbled and creaked and moaned, and Claire's camera shook.
"Oh my God, it's detaching from the rest of the hold…" Claire gasped, and Wesker chuckled at her realisation.
"Yes. However, dear heart, you probably didn't realise that as soon as you boarded, the ship disembarked. We are already quite the way out to sea right now."
Claire scoffed and resumed clutching at her shoulder.
"Whatever. My brother will find me. Fuck you, Wesker."
Wesker laughed again, and his tone briefly lost the microphone's connection.
"Oh, believe me, if I was in that hold with you I would take great pleasure in letting your dear brother watch what I would do to his little sister."
"Your vendetta towards Chris is between you and him."
"Exactly, dear heart." Wesker's voices smoothed over the room as a whooshing noise made Chris adjust his headset.
"Which is why I shall have the pleasure of ripping from him the most important aspect of his life. I would have rathered him here, but I shall enjoy this moment, and relish in Redfield's anguish. Farewell, Chris' little sister."
The tannoy popped as the microphone was shut off, and Claire began stepping frantically. Chris' mouth fell open as water seeped through holes in the floor. Fast.
"Fuck!" he shouted. "Claire! Claire, baby sis, listen to me! Stay calm, tread water. Get a handhold on the sides. I don't care if this was meant to be a solo mission, I'm coming after you! Hang in there!"
"I love you, bro." Claire whispered, right as he was about to remove his headset. He peered at his monitor, and saw that Claire had removed her camera again to look directly into it. His heart shattered. There was defeat and resignation in her features.
"I love you too, sis. And I'm coming for you." He threw the headset down and ran from the room.