Chapter 4

The Shadow Moses base of operations was in its typical norm of quiet when Esper had returned from his mission in Russia. Wong had ended up leading him on a wild goose chase through Moscow, seducing him into playing along just as much with promises of intel as she did with her body.

She and Sherawat often played him like a fiddle that way.

It was as always a life of dubiousness. Working in a world of cloak-and-dagger antics, with factions which were always as likely to stab you in the back as they are to provide you with the slightest of aid.

When he entered the office, Trent was waiting for him with his grim scowl.

Esper doubted that Trent ever smiled. Not once could he recall ever hearing someone mentioning such an abnormality, let alone beholding the sight of one himself. It was not too surprising. One could not get as far as he had with the founding, or even ascended in its ranks, based on a pleasant smile and good people skills—though the latter did help on occasion.

And when one considered the different rumors of what led him to this point in life was just as chilling. Some even claimed he had once been a rival of Albert Weker himself, but lacking the friendship aspect as the one the Wesker child had with William Birkin. Hell, as Esper sometimes heard it, Trent was sometimes enough to secretly fearfully respect Wesker.

"Esper." Trent greeted him. Gesturing toward the chair on the other end of his desk, beckoning him to take a seat. Esper complied with a nod.

Straight to business as he always was, Trent continued commanding the scene as it unfolded. "I've been reviewing the intel you recovered. How did so much of it come to be destroyed?"

Because Leon's girlfriend misled me, was what Esper thought. Although he was reluctant to tell the truth. He was scared to even think about it as he met Trent's piercing gaze, thinking in a more paranoid state of mind he could read his thoughts like the fictitious mind reader. He would be suffering some punitive measures for certain if he learned the truth.

It was embarrassing if anything else since Esper was supposed to be good at honey pots, and he ended up being honey potted himself. "My…source had undersold the severity of the risk to it." Esper told him, trying his best not to piss himself.

The data itself was in pretty good condition when he retrieved it. The problem was that after Ada and Jessica seduced him into sharing a bed with them and he passed out—after spending extra time with Wong—, they copied their own duplicates which semi-activated a countermeasure left over from Red Queen was storing it that destroyed some of the data—thankfully resulting in the loss of merely fifteen percent of the intel. Downside: the pieces missing was noticable. With Ada and Jessica having the only complete copies—and they both were long in the wind now. And the point of reversing this mishap was long in the rear view mirror.

It was a problem and the two women left him twisting in the wind.

"Very well." Trent seemed to accept the answer as tolerable. He was if anything more lenient than some of the others. "Is there anything unaccounted for, based on what you've seen?"

"Based on what I saw, there were a few virus samples that were being held with the data but it was long gone by the time I had gotten to it." Esper told him. "I know who got their hands on it…which is where a potential problem might be on the horizon."

"You're referencing the mention of a recent auction, I assume."

"Yessir." Esper nodded. "After I retrieved the intel, I asked some of my feelers to see if they could look into some of the anomalies. And…it led to a disturbing development regarding that incident occuring in America."

"The Caliban Cove biohazard?"

"Based on what they found, it seems they had purchased a few extra, tough ones to use. There was also mention of targets they had in mind for the B.O.W.s."

"That…is unfortunate."

Understatement of the decade.


Rabbit exchanged fire with their prusuers. Angela and Bain were already falling back while he was providing cover fire. Once he knew they were no longer at risk, the operative fired one final time while grabbing one of his grenades—landing a blow to one's shoulder and then tossing it.

The last thing he heard was "Son of a—" then the muffling kwaaam sound went off with a blinding flash as he was making a break for it. Leaving the bastard's blinded and incapable of pursuing them temporarily.

Running, turning the corner he had seen Angela and Bain go through. Catching up with them by mere coincidence, Rabbit took to hiding behind cover. Waiting for a moment. Listening to the foot fallls of their stalkers. They were growing nearer…nearer…nearer…

"Split up." they heard one of them bark out.

Bain pulled out his knife, using the reflection on the blade to glean their numbers. Pulling it away a second ahead of the light getting the chance to notice it. Then he looked at Rabbit, holding up three fingers.

Bouncing his head down and back up once, Rabbit pulled out another grenade. This time a frag. Pulled the pin then tossed it down the hall, causing it to bounce against the wall before landing at the foot of one of their hunters.

"Shit!"

The blast went off, and Bain opened fire before they again were falling back. There were too many. It wasn't the neo-Wolf Pack team chasing them by that point. The trio had managed to give them the slip with the smoke grenade, however the nuisances' friends on the ground were not so easily eluded. They were, if anything, a persistent bunch.

Spending an hour-and-a-half evading them again and again only to begin the process anew before at last getting the chance to relax. Finding themselves a abandoned bus to use for shelter.

"Well that was fun boys and girls." Joker could be heard over the com feed. "Until next time."

At least it seemed he was incapable of tracking them.

"Chrst almighty do I hate that guy." Bain muttered. "Somehow he managed to up his annoying anty."

Earning him a look from his companions. The question they had been meaning to ask rearing its head within their minds respectively.

Angela gazed at him suspiciously, becoming the first to voice that interest. "So you do know that Joker guy?"

"Unfortunately." Bain answered, giving off a tone of frustration—showing just how unpleasant the memory was to relive. "He was a journalist involved in the reporting of one biohazard in Brazil. We never knew his real name, just the alias he gave us. Always a…screwball. Me, Ghost, and Roach encountered him in a favela we were evacuating; when we were just trying to save as many people as we could until the BSAA arrived to clean the mess up."

"What happened?"

Bain was quiet at first. But ultimately admitted "We were forced to leave him behind when the infected horde caused him to get separated from us. Roach wanted to go back and retrieve him, but that was when the word came down: they were going to be air striking the area."

"Who made that call?"

"I never found out." Bain nodded side-to-side. "Back then, I assumed it was the result of a local element—maybe the result of someone with enough clout and pull to push the decision forward into an actuality. Though, we never found his body. It was assumed his body was completely destroyed."

"You went back to look for him?" That surprised Rabbit.

"Not exactly. The locals demanded we go back. Clean up any straggler zombies to survive the air strike. We put them down—Each. And. Every. One.—and collected the bodies to burn them. Joker was one of many that was never accounted for—one of seventy-seven in fact."

"So this is as much about your peoples' failures and the BSAA's and DSO's."

"So it seems."


Leon waited a moment or three before again having Hunnigan patch him through to Rabbit again. Figuring that if he gave it some time that—assuming he and Angela had survived—he would be able to converse more.

This time he was.

"What is it, Kennedy?"

"Problem resolved?"

"For now. Thankfully it looks like that Joker guy can't track us so we were able to get away from his buddies."

"Did they have a plaga like Buddy?"

"Yeah. I managed to take out the host and the Lickers he was commanding dispersed."

"Good." Leon let out a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately Rabbit had to ruin it for him. "Though knowing our luck they probably have more."

"You can't let me have nice things, can you?"

"Kennedy, you don't yourself have nice things. What made you think I would?"

Leon smirked a smidgen at that. "Fair enough, smart ass." Resuming the march forward as he told him "We're a click away from the police station. Do you think you'll be able to join up with us?" Keeping an eye out for any more potential attacks. "Would hate to go back and collect you myself."

"We're good."

"Fantastic."


A short while later they arrived at last.

It was bloody in every sense of the word.

The outside of Caliban Cove's police station was like the sight of a warzone. The remains of a failed barricade and roadblock to go with some of the SWAT members' gear and blood left behind with body parts from those who had failed to hold the line, along with shell casings, while they played soldier.

Not too different from how Jill imagined things had played out with the RPD when the culmination of both the non-STARS' failure and Chief Brian Irons' corruption caused the shit to hit the fan in the worst possible way.

Chris joined her side. It brought back a number of unpleasant memories, in a manner of speaking. But at least they were at last able to reach their point of interest before the sun was down.


Captain Forge led the first survey teams through the expansive police station. With Stump among the teams dispatched inside to clean it out of any potential troubles.

It was big, similar to the description of the Raccoon City police station often given to the ex-Marine and ex-Delta Force operator. The interior was very similar as well, right down to a water fountain at the center of the entrance room.

Breaking off from the main contingent sent inside, Stump moved through the building halls with Naia at his side and one of the Blue Umbrellas, Rook, not far behind.

"Quite the place, isn't it, Stump."

"It really is." Stump nodded. Sounding a little impressed. "Hard to believe Chris and Jill used to work in a place like this. The S.T.A.R.S. must've been raking in some serious doe if they worked in a place like this."

He imagined the Raccoon City Police having a station thrice as luxurious as the one they were slinking through. Imaging a place full of tough but hot looking chicks for co-workers and enough pay to own a five tier house.

"Not really." Rook had to crush the fantasy playing out in Stump's mind. "From what I hear the pay was as suckish as any other government/law enforcement job. Only to be decommissioned by their jackass boss after a bunch of their co-workers were killed and made into monster feed."

Yikes.

"Way to kill the mood, Rook."

"It's what I live for." Rook responded with indifferent, dry sarcasm.

Finn "Rooster" Sherman followed behind Captain Forge checking the section of the station where prison cells were to be found. Fidning there were a few bodies lain out.

They did not die of natural causes. A few appeared to his been suicides, these were garbed in police attire. They had chosen to go out doing the least malignant after effect as possible. The pistols on the bodies were empty, as it turned out.

Rooster considered that it was possible their company was not the first ones to come upon the station since the first outbreak. In fact, there were reports from before the station went completely dark that the local authorities had advised a number of citizens to fall back to the station or a shelter. Some may have come after the police fell victim to the zombies and B.O.W.s and a later point and collected the ammunition—or Talon had.

The possibilities sickened him regardless.

"Anything, Rooster?" he heard Captain Forge calling out to him from down the hall. Peering out of the latest cell he had been combing through, he answered back "No, sir. Nothing but a handful of bodies and empty handguns so far. Just a few cells left to go."

"Double time, soldier!"

Rooster grunted befre responding "Yes, sir."

He resumed his search for the remaining cells. Feeling as much of a grunt now then he did back in the Rangers. Just like Carver.


Chris kept watch with the majority of their forces outside the station. Half expecting to hear gunshots ring out from the inside. The failure to audibly register any was surprising in its own right.

Sheva was further away with Jill and Leon, keeping a lookout for any incoming attacks. Crosshair and Archangel were doing the same from the rooftop. For now it was calm.

Then he heard the booted footsteps emerging from the station and turned to see Captain Forge. "It's clear, Redfield."

"What…?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised, too." Forge shrugged. "I'm still waiting to hear back from Nadia, but it seems empty. Aside from a few corpses."


Nadia opened the door leading to an office space, greeting by the wailing of a decayed face. She took aim and fired one.

Then Captain Forge heard the gunshot, glanced over his shoulder, then back to Chris. "Okay, it seems I spoke too soon."

Pressing the radio near his head, Forge asked "Anything happened?"


"It's nothing, sir." Nadia answered. "Just a straggler." Then a few more gunshots echoed downt eh hall where she last saw Stump and Rook. "Maybe a few others. It shouldn't be too much of a complication."

"They're dealt with as well." they heard Stump say from his end. Then Rook followed up. "All infected are re-KIA."

Hearing that, Nadia began looking at the body of her recent kill. It was male, decent uniform. Not a beat cop. Not a detective. High up, definitely upper brass. The sort Nadia hated dealing with. Then she saw the name tag: Bryant.

Nadia pressed on her com. "This is Lieutenant Eckhart to Overwatch, is there anyone in the police personnel by the name Bryant?"

"There are two, Lieutenant. Sergeant Lucy Bryant, and one Chief Jan Bryant."

"Scheisse." Nadia whispered to herself. "Thanks."

She killed the reanimated corpse of the guy who had been leading the counter offensive against the virus outbreak. Not a realization, enough to leave a bitter taste in her mouth.

In general killing the zombies was not pleasant in the aftermath. Stump described it best: they were killing the least shards of what had once been a human being. It was a job. That was how some chose to look at their occupation. A few such as Carver took enjoyment at just shooting them dead—not in a sociopathic manner, just for the love of shooting—and some were apathetic as a result of putting them down for so long. Nadia and her boyfriend were among those who seemed to still struggle with it; though they can follow through with re-killing them, but it still was unpleasant all the same.

All they could do was make jokes or use any coping mechanism available to them.

Tearing herself away from the corpse and those thoughts, Nadia looked to the desk. It wasn't the Chief's office, it was one that would be implemented by one of his higher up underlings.

The desk had some interesting contents. A few files and a data disc bearing the words OUTCAST INVESTIGATION.

Packing it away, she decided to regroup with Stump and Rook. Hopefully this would be useful…somehow.


Rabbit was pacing through the abandoned streets with Angela and Bain. Taking in the sights as they were traveling to the Police Station. They had waited a moment, hoping that if they kept low for a spell it would cause their hostile fans to lose sight of them a little more, and had begun moving out in earnest.

Only now it was getting dark. Hell! It was dark by then.

Now they were trying to cover as much ground as they could and just praying there were no more surprises. Unfortunately there was noticeable movement not far ahead: a substantial amount. A horde of the undead looking for a fleshy meal.

"Oh, Christ…"

They fell back, moving quietly to one of the nearby buildings—one with the sign RUSTY'S PAWNSHOP. Opening the door steadily then closed it, locked it, and barricaded it with a nearby bookshelf. That would at least inconvenience the ghouls for a bit.

In training one of Rabbit's mentors, Willow, was fond of a particular lesson: you need to pick your battles wisely. He knew this was the right picking.

Stepping back a few, Rabbit sighed with some relief.

Just then!

Suddenly a gun barrel emerged from the shadows to press against his nape, and Rabbit froze. "Don't move." he heard a woman say.

Oh, shit.

It was just as Leon said: can't have nice things.