Resident Evil Black Ops III: Last Escape

by EpsilonChurchRVB

Very few had survived the destruction of Raccoon City. The Raccoon Trials would go on to last for years through intense unrest. Jill Valentine and Frank Woods were among the few survivors to be alive throughout the last days of the doomed city, all while being targeted by a relentless, powerful monster to silence them all. This is the story of their fates - of their last escape…

11. Chapter 11: The Central Station

Author's Note: I'm back! Did you honestly think I'd abandon this yet again? Of course not!

Recommended BGM:

1. Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War - Searching

2. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) & (Remake) - Free From Fear

3. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) - Escape Together

Bonus Track: Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles - September 1998

---

Chapter 11

Kravchenko moved through the shadows with the grace of a predator stalking its prey. Once he heard the explosion from the construction site nearby, he realized it must've been the work of the Nemesis when it began to roar its favorite word, finally locating another STARS member.

He had Bell under his sight, watching him every step of the way, trailing him from the shadows as the man navigated through the labyrinthine streets of Raccoon. A part of Kravchenko was curious to see how far Bell would go, whether he would remain loyal to his orders or succumb to his own desires for revenge he knew he wouldn't want to miss.

After what must've been several minutes of watching him closely, Bell suddenly stopped when he arrived at the facade of the burning building. He stared at the sky above, watching a figure struggling to keep a grasp on a small hanging lift before collapsing hard on the ground.

Woods…

The recognition hit him almost as hard as he had fallen to the concrete ground, somehow living through the impact without breaking any bones. Nonetheless, Kravchenko already expected Bell not to listen to him and instead try to kill him himself.

In the end, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips…

He watched the whole thing unfold from behind a row of wrecked cars, the encounter not precisely going as Bell may have had planned, studying Woods' superhuman healing, reflexes, and strength, an immaculate experiment the morons from the hospital had somehow managed to pull off.

Outstanding performance, I must say. The things Umbrella had been able to improve upon in such a short time…

Kravchenko's gaze lingered on Woods, his mind ablaze with thoughts of power and domination. He watched as Woods, despite after his body had exhausted its energy to heal his gunshot injuries caused by Bell, moved with fluidity and grace that belied his human form. There was something primal about how Woods moved, a raw power emanating from every muscle and sinew.

As he observed Woods' lightning-fast reflexes and superhuman strength, a hunger stirred within Kravchenko. This was the power he had long desired, the power to bend the world to his will and reshape it in his image, the power he had ordered Bard to collectively make under the guise of a vaccine against the virus. And yet, here it was, embodied in the form of a man who was, by all accounts, unworthy of such gifts.

If only Bell hadn't been so pathetically brain-dead…

…I could've used him to help me get to Bard before Zinoviev did.

Brain-dead or otherwise, Bell was still of some use to him - and his apparent thirst for revenge against Adler and his team that used him had somehow still benefited in his favor; he was as useful as a punching bag for field testing against Woods' newfound abilities, enhancements he did not deserve. Woods had been given a taste of power but lacked the vision and ambition to wield it properly…

…but I, on the other hand, know exactly what to do with such power.

Woods was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded when no longer needed, but he had proven to him multiple times before that he did not know the meaning of the word "dead" in all its proper form.

With each passing moment, Kravchenko's desire for Woods' power grew more substantial; he could practically feel it coursing through his veins, filling him with a sense of invincibility. With this power at his command, there would be no limit to what he could achieve.

First things first. I've got to fix up that truck I found to get to the damn hospital. Then, I can deal with the Watchdog next…. I can demand the doctor to tell me where he keeps the remaining vials, steal the data disk, and blow up the entire hospital building.

And then, I will be unstoppable, and nothing will ever get in my way.

Nikolai could still be a problem, especially after finding out that he had killed one of his own already. However, with how things were going, it was doubtful that the Watchdog would successfully extract the data from the rest of his coworkers. After all, he wasn't a priority to him, so much as to merely serve as a distraction for Umbrella and the rest of its own goons.

And he's been quite a busy bee.

Everyone in Raccoon will meet their fate, regardless. Zinoviev is no exception.

There was a large thud just before Kravchenko saw Woods send Bell flying against a set of metallic garbage bins, incapacitating the poor bastard completely. If Woods killed Bell now, he'd be doing him a massive favor, and Kravchenko found himself craving to see him kill him, to give Bell the lesson he needed to learn for not following orders, falling under heavy consequences of his actions…

…and then came a shrieking cry, the voice of someone familiar to him.

"Sims…" he growled lowly in disdain, having interrupted the encore before him.

Sims wrestled against the other American, and he was immediately overpowered when Woods used his unnatural strength to throw him to the ground some distance away.

As the downed soldier began with rush introductions to explain himself to Woods, Kravchenko caught an eye on Bell, who was falling in and out of consciousness for a few moments.

I ain't got the time for playing the waiting game…

There was growing impatience, a whirlwind of contempt crawling over his stomach as he began to plan his next move, to see whether or not he should simply take Bell out of his misery…

…or I can just let him suffer and serve him as a zombie feast.

The latter was a tempting thought, but he also wanted to see the light leave his eyes—close and personally. After a minute of silent debate, he finally focused on the conversation between Sims and Woods, his mind already made up. He decided to continue waiting.

"Yes," Sims said confidently, cutting off Woods' train of thought after expressing his initial suspicions. "Adler and I joined the UBCS undercover, mostly because of him." He nudged his head towards Bell, who already seemed knocked out. "I know you and Adler aren't on speaking terms—"

"No shit, Sherlock," said Woods, annoyed.

"But, we are still on the same side, Woods," Sims quickly interjected. "You wanna fix this mess, right? We can still do so, but killing him isn't gonna solve anything, you hear?"

Woods lashed out in outrage. "After what he helped do to this city?! To Gwen?! Fucker has it coming!"

"Gwen?"

Woods turned his back on him briefly and looked just as pathetic as Kravchenko had known him to be.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered angrily. "What matters is that he's killed innocent people in cold blood and all for what? Power? Self-loathing? Become Kravchenko's favorite dog?" He laughed mockingly, making Kravchenko close his fist tightly while gripping his sidearm tighter. "I knew that kid had problems, but joining Perseus was something we should've known he'd do from the start."

"I know," Sims nodded slowly. "But if you wanna put a stop to all this, then help us - help me, and I can help you get to Miss Valentine before whatever that giant monster thing finds her first."

"You know her?"

"We just met earlier," Sims explained. "When Perseus got to us last time, she saved us not long before that thing showed up. She gave'em an explosive gift, led us to a warehouse nearby, and that's when we separated. She and another friend of ours went to look for you while Adler and I went on our way to the police station before we bumped into some survivors from the UBCS. That's when we heard the explosion here and decided to investigate it myself when I saw… well…"

"Ey, listen up."

Woods moved closer to Sims' ear and whispered something to him. After a few seconds, Sims nodded to him before both took one last look at Bell and quickly jogged away from the premises, leaving Bell behind. They were probably spooked that Bell was likely in a conscious mind, listening to every word being said while acting as though he was knocked out.

Probably able to sense my presence, too, if I'm not mistaken.

Very interesting…

It was possible that Woods was aware that Krachenko was nearby, overhearing their conversation. It was very intriguing that the t-Virus when correctly bonded with the human body at a cellular level, could bring such abilities that now kept him with a change of mind about what to do with Woods himself.

Capturing him won't be easy if he possesses that much strength, but…

He slowly stood up, watching Woods and Sims' fading silhouettes become one with the streets' shadows. Kravchenko turned his head and walked past the row of cars, now standing before his last remaining agent. His gaze hardened as he looked down at Bell, his disappointment palpable.

"Oh…Bell. What to do with you?" he said loud enough for Bell to hear, in case he could still listen to him as he lay on the ground, now barely moving but not saying a single word back. He continued, his voice now laced with grand disappointment and contempt. "Your orders were quite simple, and now look at you - a helpless dog with no guidance over your own survival. You sought vengeance, betted on the wrong horse—and now your life hangs in the balance. Hope this is what you wanted…"

A mix of emotions swirled within him.

There was anger at Bell's betrayal and incompetence. There was frustration at the wasted opportunity and resources that had been invested in him. There was a hint of regret at what could've been had Bell remained loyal and obedient…

But above all else, Kravchenko's mind was coldly pragmatic. Bell had failed to live up to expectations, and now he would have to face the consequences of his actions. Kravchenko knew that there was no room for sentimentality, so the only thing he could do now was leave him to a fate that the city's infected creatures would decide for him. If Bell could no longer serve his purpose, that was what would be done.

With a final, disdainful glance at Bell, Kravchenko decided to leave him behind and walk away. Whatever fate awaited Bell, he could not care any less. He had more pressing matters, such as getting to the hospital and acquiring the vials necessary to be one step closer to grand power—and nothing would stand in his way.

---

The steel shutter that protected the shop's front door was down and locked, but Jill managed to get in through the garage, picking her way past a side door. The shop was sturdy enough, well protected from the average thief and, most certainly, any zombie, but Jill had no doubt that if the Nemesis wanted to get in, it probably could whenever it wished. She'd just have to hope it hadn't tracked her this far…

…however it does that, exactly.

Jill hadn't had the slightest idea. Did it smell her? That seemed unlikely, considering her careful, breathless walk to the gas station. She's moved from shadow to shadow, sensing the Nemesis' thundering but clumsy progress as it searched for her amongst the crowd of abandoned cars. If it were tracking her by scent, it would have caught her by now—how did it know who she or Frank were, specifically? If another woman her size or another man with Frank's similar physique stumbled across its path, would it mistake them for Jill and Frank?

Jill walked absently through the well-lit garage, thinking of the many possibilities, her boots making soft, wet noises against the oily, sticky ground as she took in some of the layout and surveyed doors. She didn't know how the Nemesis had been programmed to find and kill STARS, besides possibly being subjected to the same programming Alex Mason had gone through previously, or why it seemed to break off its pursuit occasionally, especially when it became so close to catching up to her. With Brad now gone, only she and Frank were the only STARS members left in town, which meant…

…no. No, it can't possibly know where Frank is, right?

Who are you kidding? If it can find you easily, what makes you think it can't find Frank just as easily as well?

She gulped nervously, trying to find an alternative thought that would somehow make more sense and ease some of her concerns about her lost teammate.

Unless… the Nemesis is also after the police chief for being heavily involved with the STARS too, right? Probably still in town somewhere…

Jill shook her head. It was a ridiculous thought. Chris and Alex had gathered enough information on Irons to make it a near certainty that he was working under bribes from Umbrella—just as Wesker once did. However, if Irons was on the Nemesis' hit list, Jill was pretty much okay with that.

From the garage, she entered a small office with a small lobby on the other side, like an office-break room of sorts. Right across the room was a soda and a coffee machine, a small round table with a couple of chairs, a cluttered desk, and a stand filled with magazines about cars and sports entertainment. Jill tried the telephone on general principles, receiving no less than the expected dead air.

"Now to wait, I guess," she said to no one in particular, leaning against the counter. If the Nemesis didn't show up within the next few minutes, she'd slip out again and head to the nearest manhole she could find, assuming she could somehow open it. She wondered if Frank might've returned to the surface again, potentially explaining the Nemesis' hesitation to continue its pursuit of her. And then, her mind returned to Carlos, wondering if he'd made it to the trolley by now. She highly doubted that Nemesis would prioritize him over her or Frank, but if he was on his way to their only escape out of there, it was a possibility that it knew of their plans and try to sabotage them by stalking him regardless of his alignment to Umbrella's paramilitary group.

And then came Perseus…

It ain't the Cold War anymore—what could they possibly gain over the destruction of an American city like this? More freedom? Boasting power? A second Cold War involving viruses instead of nuclear weapons?

…Umbrella's downfall?

It was impossible. Even Kravchenko didn't seem thick enough in the head to publicly expose Umbrella's wrongdoings without exposing himself first.

And even then, Umbrella themselves wouldn't try calling this an accident because that would mean negligence on their part; no doubt they've already got a scapegoat lined up and ready to hang, some unlucky yes-man they can frame for the murder of thousands…

Not if she could help it, not if her friends could; the truth would come out one way or another.

It had to.

Through her renewed determination, she noticed a few tools lying around - a set of socket wrenches, a variety of screwdrivers, and…

…a couple of crowbars!

When she picked one of them up, it automatically occurred to her that it might be good to start packing a few things for the trolley as well. It would mean she'd have to pause her search for Frank for some time again, but if Carlos needed these tools and had no clue where to search, their only way of escape could become in complete jeopardy.

"Right. Look for a bag first. Anything that could help."

As she stood up and looked over the counter, an abandoned notepad lay there, with past and future appointments listed and written in blue and black ink. Curiously, she skimmed through it, knowing it wouldn't offer anything useful to her, but she knew she had nothing much else to do. She at least wanted to remember some semblance of the city's peaceful past, which could remind her of the old life within her former home, even if it didn't bring any more comfort than she anticipated.

September…

Gutierrez…Ellsworth…Abernathy…Redmond…

August…

Livingston…Davenport…Dominguez…Lockwood…

Mason…

Jill blinked a few times, making sure her eyes didn't deceive her in the moment.

Mason, Alex | 8/12 | 9:00am

She frowned, realizing that Alex had called in to get his car fixed on the same day that Chris and Barry had decided to visit him before he disappeared for good.

Must've done so just before he decided to leave town, too…

And then she remembered the name of an unknown man that had been burning inside the back of her mind for a long time.

John Trent…

Didn't that Jason guy mention him in those case files he gave Frank before all this started?

Luckily for her, she'd memorized most of the information she read about many of the listed individuals that the old bald, Wesker-looking guy mentioned, and Trent had certainly been one of them, mostly due to the fact how shocking it was to find out about a lot that she didn't know about Alex himself.

"John Trent - where do even begin…

It all started with a simple letter from him mentioning Mason's name in nineteen sixty-three. He told me he knew him, that I would learn to trust him, and everything I'd come to know would change a few days later.

And he would be right…

Initially, I ignored him, became ignorant of his cryptic messages…and then…that's when the assassination happened.

For five years, I tried to make sense of it, figure out what I missed - what I was unwilling to see…

…and the information I managed to uncover would lead me down a rabbit hole of endless possibilities that, if correct, would make Mason public enemy number one. I couldn't let that happen, so I burned everything, destroyed the evidence, became an accessory to the crimes he never knew he'd committed, and I made sure he'd have a normal life for as long as I could…

…until Trent finally came up again with another letter two decades after the last, telling me that the murder of Mason's only son was inevitable in the coming days. When I sent in a protective detail to the Mason home, none of them ever showed up, so instead, I informed Woods about it, and he immediately volunteered to do it alone.

That was also one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made…

Once again, I ignored Trent, believing he was simply full of himself when he told me that Mason was no longer himself after he met a strange kid who was apparently lost in the snow. Why would a kid, of all things, ever know of Mason's brainwashing history, let alone be capable of somehow driving him under the influence of said numbers? After that, Mason ended up killing his own wife instead.

To this day, he's never remembered, neither his now estranged son, possibly due to the unimaginable shock of seeing his own father murdering his mother in front of him at such a young age.

It simply never made sense to me, and every time I brought it up to Trent, he'd dodge the question entirely…

Who is this guy? How does he know so much about Mason? How does he know about me and Woods? What else does this guy know that none of us don't? What are his true intentions?"

Jill had been in a delirious state of mind, her head spinning in circles as she remembered everything she had forgotten to confront Frank with earlier. He probably knew more about Trent than Jason did, but then again…

Adler… Sims… those names were also in the case files, too. Wait…

Are they the same people? The ones from Umbrella? Is it all connected?!

She quickly figured out that Russell and Lawrence were also involved in some way, though to what extent, she still didn't know as Jason's device only described them to be involved in one of the many black ops teams made to combat Perseus, as well as some other names like Helen Park, Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay, and Konstantin "Bell" Obolensky, a former Perseus member apparently.

Bell… heard that name from Frank back at the station before the whole incident at the mansion…

One thing was certain: Russell and Lawrence knew more than they let on, considering they mysteriously started working for Umbrella, most likely still knowing their true intentions. If her gut had been right about them being responsible for the mess, Raccoon City had gone through since May…

…then they've got some more explaining to do.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Jill dropped into a crouch behind the counter as soon as she heard the slow, heavy knocks at the garage's side door, insistent and steady.

Nemesis?

No, the rappings were loud but nowhere near as powerful.

Perseus?

"Uuhh…"

The gentle, raspy cries of dead hunger filtered through the door, joined by another, then a third - and a chorus followed next.

Zombies, and it sounded like a large crowd was nearby.

Her relief instantly vaporized the moment she thought it hadn't been either the Nemesis or Perseus upon realizing that a dozen or so undead creatures were now hammering on the door, which was now equivalent to a flashing neon sign that read, "ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET."

So much for trying to sneak out of here. What do I do now?

Her simple plan to hide and wait until the Nemesis went away had decomposed into a trap she hadn't quite expected this place to be.

So then start looking for a way out then. Unless you plan on charging through and start mowing some undead ass.

Jill sighed, the nagging dread whirling around in her stomach so constant that she no longer became consciously aware of it. Outside, the virus carriers continued to shuffle and moan a song of gurgling cries, beating helplessly against the door.

She might as well start considering her options; after all, she still has a few minutes to kill.

---

The trip to the Central Station was without a hassle.

The thought of Jill having to face the giant monster alone made Carlos drown with worrying scenarios flushing around the back of his mind, but he immediately began feeling slightly more hopeful as he staggered into the station yard lit by an expanse of burning debris that blocked off the street to his left - no zombies, no Perseus pendejos, and it didn't seem as though anyone had gone through here recently.

But man, look at all this mess…

Dead bodies of Perseus and SWAT members littered the ground throughout the way, squinting when a small gust of foul-smelling smoke washed over him, the burning smell of decay and bittersweet. More than half of them were sprawled in small pools of blood, most of which came from bullet hole injuries on varying parts of the bodies. If Carlos could've guessed, the SWAT team could've taken over this place first before Perseus came to invade their camp, killed everyone with mounting casualties of their own, and left the site, making sure to seal the area to prevent any other innocent survivors from reaching this place on foot from the other side of town while also ensuring the main gate to City Hall was locked.

There it is.

To his right was a grand old building, most likely the Central Station building itself. Ahead of him, past a small destroyed barricade, was an old-fashioned trolley car, its red paint faded from rust and heavy use. As he walked closer, he saw that a second car was attached, most of it hidden in the shadow of a connected building overhead, presumably City Hall itself.

Alright. Take it nice and slow. You don't want any surprises now, do you?

If anyone was inside and they happened not to be a friendly, he'd have to be extra careful. With his fully automatic gripped tightly with both hands, he took his time to take silent and steady steps, crouching underneath the windows above as he used the fire's background noise to mask the sound of his movements briefly.

Easy going…

He didn't bother sliding the side door of the first car; instead, he kept going, straining his ears to hear any sign of movement, to feel something - anything - dead or alive inside. Once he'd reached the door to the second car, he practically froze and became breathless for a quick moment before finally taking a deep breath again. Carlos didn't know what to expect, but he had no other choice. It was now or never.

And Jill's counting on you, so sweep up the place first and then go after her.

Nodding to himself, he turned toward the door, aiming his M4 with one hand and using the other to reach the door and slowly slide it open.

He quickly rushed inside, now holding his assault rifle tightly with both hands again with a finger already on the trigger, not taking any chances…

…and to his relief, the entire car was empty and surprisingly clean, too.

"Kinda expected some sort of welcoming party, heh," he whispered vaguely, almost quickly forgetting he still had the other car left to explore.

Right. First things first, rápido!

Not wasting any time, he rushed inside the other car, instantly noticing that the entire trolley was completely abandoned, which immediately calmed his nerves down. Inside this car, however, were faded spots of blood on the ground, none of which seemed consistent enough to know whether or not it came from someone who had been injured or had already turned when they bled. Ahead, next to the driver's seat, were various controls, all of which were mostly electrical.

At the touch of a button, a row of overhead lights switched on, illuminating most of the aging wooden floor and the burgundy rows of padded seats that lined both walls.

That did something, at least.

'Kay, do another quick check-up on this place and help out Supercop.

With one final round for a quick sweep of the place, Carlos jogged back to the previous car and checked on the control panel he couldn't see properly earlier. When he opened up the unscrewed cover, his heart sank when he saw that it was part of the primary power setup, which had a few parts either missing or tampered with.

"Tsk, hijo de la—Shit!" he said loudly, shaking his head in disbelief.

Fuse is missing. Circuits are shorted out. And God knows what else has gone wrong, too…

"It's always one thing after another," he growled lowly.

He knew something couldn't have gone their way. Everything seemed to go on smoothly—in fact, too smoothly—that he had a strange feeling that it wouldn't have been as easy as it seemed.

And then he remembered something…

At the briefing, a landmark on the city map near City Hall stood out to him: a gas station containing an auto repair shop. Repair shops meant they could have parts inside and equipment useful for their little cable car problem.

Oh shit! Jill could be there too, along with that thing!

For a moment, he thought about it, not wanting to leave the cable car unsupervised while the tall, white-haired Perseus leader could come here, tamper their way out further, and possibly set up an ambush for Sims and Adler if they end up showing up sooner or later…

… but we ain't going anywhere without a power cable and a high amp fuse. What if Jill needs your help, too? What choice do I really have now?

Thump. Thump.

Carlos froze, a noise from the other side slightly catching him off-guard. His instincts kicked in, gradually leaving himself breathless once more as he ducked out of sight from the back door's window panel, hiding in a small corner of the car.

What if it's that Kravchenko guy or whatever his name is? Maybe one of his soldiers followed me all the way here?

Silent and unmoving, his heart pounded loudly as he waited. Fearful that his own heartbeat would reveal his location at any moment, he resisted the urge to move. Patience was the key to survival: waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready for the inevitable as the seconds ticked agonizingly slow, each one feeling like an eternity…

…and then, the back door slid open.

Carlos pressed his back against the cold metal wall of the cable car, listening intently. The sound of footsteps grew louder, each step echoing ominously in the enclosed space. His breath became shallower, his body coiling tightly with anticipation. He could hear the aging floor creak in tiny detail with the weight of whoever was inside, sending a shiver down his spine.

You've got one chance at this.

Don't waste it now.

The intruder's footsteps grew closer, the rhythm of their approach steady and unhurried. Carlos was sweating with anxiety, ready to spring into action at the first sign of aggression…

…and when the figure finally approached close enough, Carlos struck without a second thought. He leaped from cover, aiming to disarm the intruder. They were quick, but Carlos was faster, moving in fluidity as he knocked their gun to the ground. Once he aimed his gun at them and their eyes connected to his, both suddenly froze in place, shocked and surprised.

Immediately, Carlos felt a flash of peaceful tranquility running across his veins when his voice subconsciously erupted with dawned recognition.

"Cryan? I mean…" Carlos' voice trailed off when the man standing in front of him suddenly smiled and cut off his correction.

"I don't mind the name if it gets you to remember who I am, but it's good to see you too, Oliveira. Nice moves, though," said Adler nonchalantly, his scarred lips seemingly trying to hold back a grin.

Carlos let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, lowering his weapon as he picked up and gave Adler's assault rifle back to him. "My mistake. I thought that… Hey, where's uhh… Sims? Wasn't he with you when you both left together?"

"He's taking care of some business," said Adler, his expression more serious. "I brought Mikhail with me, sitting in the front car for now. Thought we check out the place while waiting for you and… Is Valentine with you?"

Carlos momentarily looked at the opened panel, feeling slightly grim about their current situation.

"I was just about to head out to look for her. She took a detour in order to get that growling monster away from here. There's a repair shop near City Hall where she might've gone. If I can get to her, help her out, and grab anything that could help us get a new power cable or an old-fashioned electrical fuse, we might get one step closer to getting out of this hellish town."

Adler nodded, walking past him to check the main panel closer. After several seconds of closer inspection, he turned his head around as he stood up, his mind fully composed. "I'll go. I may know a thing or two about these old cable cars. You should stay here and watch over Mikhail and our only chance of escape. Let's hope for no more surprises."

"Wait, but are you sure about—"

"Don't worry about me," Adler interjected fiercely. He placed a firm hand on Carlos' shoulder and continued to speak. "Listen, someone's got to have a watchful eye on the Captain as he isn't doing too good. If Trent was right about you, I know you'll do your best. You just gotta put more faith in yourself and others. All right?"

Carlos hesitated, almost absently gazing at Adler's grip on his right shoulder.

What did Trent tell him about me? What else does that guy know about everyone else in the UBCS? Is Jill even aware that Trent exists if both are connected to the guy I'm supposed to rescue and escort out of town?

He didn't think there was any reason to start distrusting Adler and Sims, even after realizing that their false identities brought a new set of revealing information behind their stay within the UBCS. Everyone in the team had dark secrets buried in their past. Who's to say Adler or Sims were any different than everybody else?

Carlos took a deep breath and finally nodded at him reluctantly.

"Okay," he sighed. "Just… Be careful out there, Adler."

Adler gave him a reassuring nod before leaving through the back exit. "Stay sharp. Perseus can be very unpredictable, and trust me, I'd know. And if Sims or Nikolai show up, tell'em I won't be long."

"Sure thing," said Carlos just before Adler left.

Not like I killed one of their top agents years ago without knowing or anything…

Now that he was alone in the car again, his mind was swirling with worrying thoughts despite Adler's advice just seconds ago. When he walked closer to the door of the front car, the cable car's silent, oppressive atmosphere only heightened his anxiety. As he entered the first car, he couldn't help but recall the first time he'd heard the big monster's guttural growl within Burger Town's kitchen and the echoing roar at City Hall's courtyard.

The way it says "stars."

It's like it's really out to get Jill and Frank, no matter the cost…

The memory sent a shiver down his spine, the voice of sheer power and malevolence still haunting him beyond his core

Lost in his thoughts, Carlos was suddenly startled by a noise behind him. He spun around, his hand instinctively reaching for his sidearm. It took him a moment to realize that Captain Mikhail was still with him, having been left in his care. The Captain had a bandaged injury that, thankfully, proved that Jill was right about being a mere gunshot injury and not a bite or two from any of the undead freaks out there, which meant there was still a chance for him to live through it.

"Easy, Carlos," Mikhail said weakly, a pained smile tugging at his lips. "It's just me."

Carlos exhaled deeply, his heartbeat gradually returning to normal. "Sorry, Captain I… How are you holding up? Heard you got shot by that murderous group, Perseus."

Mikhail shifted slightly, grimacing in pain. "Yeah, you heard right. Been better. Bandages are holding, but… not sure for how long now. Those damn bastards…"

Carlos knelt beside Mikhail, carefully checking the bandage wrapped around his abdomen. The makeshift dressing was stained with blood, but it seemed to hold for now. The closer inspection of his injury made Carlos' concern deepen.

"What's got you so spooked?" Mikhail asked curiously. "When you came in here, you looked paler than me. Is it because Adler left you to do the babysitting? Because I don't blame him. I can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, heh…"

Carlos' eyes grew slightly wider. "Wait, what? You…"

Mikhail kept his weakened gaze on him without blinking. "I'm old, but I'm no fool either, kid. Don't worry. Your secrets are mine to keep."

Carlos frowned, his mind still racing with possibilities about Mikhail's injury rather than worrying about being overheard by their captain. "We need to get you to a hospital. This wound… it's only gonna get worse if we don't get you proper treatment in time."

Mikhail shook his head, his expression resolute despite the pain he must've been feeling. "Even if we can use this cable car to get there, hospital's most likely either guarded or overrun, swarming with those things too. And plus, I'll only slow you down. All you can do now is try to get this thing running, get us all to the clock tower's landing zone, and get out of here. The city's completely done for…"

"The clock tower's landing zone?" Carlos asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at him. He had almost completely forgotten Trent's details about the Saint Michael Clock Tower and the weapons and supplies dropped around that area. "Why the clock tower, specifically?"

Mikhail shifted slightly in his seat again, answering him and speaking softly. "Evacuation. It's where we were supposed to take all surviving civilians and signal the transports to come in. The bell of the clock tower is scheduled to toll by computer. Ring them manually, and the system emits a beacon satellite signal programmed by the Umbrella higher-ups to call out emergency evac choppers. We ring the bell; we get out of here. Cute, huh?"

Carlos wondered why no one decided to include that piece of information in their briefing but decided not to ask. There was, however, something else that kept bothering him.

"The bell must be loud as hell - loud enough to bring the attention of either Perseus or whatever monster is out there. What if it takes them too long to get here and it becomes too late?

Mikhail simply shrugged at him. "What other choice do we have? We either take our chances - or we don't and die here no matter what."

Carlos didn't want to admit it, but the Captain was right. Holding their positions after ringing the clock tower would be the equivalent of calling a city-wide dinner bell, but it was the best shot they got at escaping this nightmare alive. In his experience, not everybody could endure the hell they'd have to go through or make it out alive…

…but just like Adler said, have faith in yourself and others. You will pull it off. Everyone has to…

He finally stood up and decided to take a seat across from Mikhail, gazing at him without breaking eye contact. The look in his captain's countenance told him that he was in great pain, but his blue eyes glimmered with astute perseverance. A few moments later, Mikhail exhaled deeply as he rested his back against his own seat, closing his eyes afterward. Carlos decided to do the same as well. After all, he could use a small nap to regain some of his lost energy.

He just hoped that everybody else who was still out there in the city was still fine and alive.

---

The damn mercenary was gone, and not only was there no clue left behind to tell where he could be headed, but Nikolai had missed him by bare minutes. The computer Chan had apparently made his report from was still warm, the monitor's thick glass still crackling with static electricity. Nikolai impulsively scooped up the monitor and threw it across the room against a shelf of document files but wasn't satisfied with its prosaic explosion of cheap plastic casing and glass. He wanted blood. If Chan ever came back to the office, Nikolai would beat him brutally before ending his miserable life.

He paced around the small, heavily littered office, fuming with rage and indignation.

How is it possible that someone as pathetically dimwitted as him can tease me with such ignorance, stupidity, and an oblivious mind? How can someone so inferior like him still be alive?

Nikolai was vaguely aware that the thought wasn't rigorously rational, but his fury was more palpable than the recognition of his failure to catch him. Davis Chan wasn't deserving of the Watchdog title, he didn't deserve the right to live.

Ultimately, Nikolai slowly managed to take hold of himself, breathing deeply, forcing himself to focus on Kravchenko instead. The Perseus leader would eventually turn his back on him - that he knew. It was still early in the game. Besides, Nikolai's orders depended on having the information that Umbrella and Perseus wanted. If he meant to steal that information, he had to allow some time for the other Watchdogs to collect it.

The daily field reports were brief summaries of conditions and body count, basic data that was used as much as a check-in itself. The more important stuff was being stored on disk, transcribed from found documents or pieces of data collected from someone else's files, and only downloaded by cell if the Watchdog considered it of the utmost importance.

At best, Kravchenko's true goals with said information were fuzzy, but Nikolai was as good as dead once he decided to bring all of it to him - an expendable grunt that Kravchenko would surely try to tie up as a loose end.

Not if I can help it. They'd helped me get everything I needed to get me started. I no longer need them anymore. There's more cash to be printed from other organizations out there, craving to get such information from Umbrella's most classified research.

And … while I wait, I can check in with my comrades at the cable car.

Nikolai stopped pacing, struck by the realization that he had truly enjoyed his deception of Cryan, Malone, Mikhail, and Jill. Somehow, the thought that there were four of them turned it into a more exciting game. Would they suspect him? What could they have in their minds about him? Were there any stirring doubts?

And I could hardly imagine their depraved looks of life while witnessing Mikhail's slow, excruciating death, watching him lose his pathetic pride as the three protagonists struggle to cope with beating the odds.

Funnily enough, he had actually seen an RV parked haphazardly in front of the RPD across a gaping sinkhole in the middle of the street that he hadn't seen before. With some luck, he could cross through the side buildings and use the RV to make his way to the clock tower as an alternative. With how quickly the city had fallen, most of the barricades across town should have already been destroyed by the zombies or blown up by Perseus to control some of the herds directly into the paths of the UBCS, which meant it wouldn't be as difficult to get to the clock tower from the RPD itself.

Nikolai laughed suddenly, a harsh barking sound in the room's stillness. He had to kill Dr. Bard, the scientist in charge of the vaccine's creation. He knew that the doctor had been ordered to see the hospital's destruction before leaving town to eliminate any traces of his research performed on a test subject they'd held for over six weeks. He also knew that Umbrella stored one of the only remaining finalized versions of the Hunter Gamma series - bioweapons that they'd decided to abandon - so blowing up the hospital meant two objectives for the price of one.

What's better than receiving a bonus when I report Perseus and the rest of the STARS are dead?

It seemed that the Gamma series wasn't cost-effective. Although the prototypes were immediately obsolete due to their limited mobility and inherited weaknesses, serious disagreements took place within the administration about whether or not the finalized versions were to be disposed of. If Nikolai were to lure either Perseus or the UBCS soldiers into combat with one of them, he would have some valuable information of his own to sell…and he, too, would be taking two birds with one stone.

Everything seemed to fall together in one place, with symmetry and balance that kept everything in order. He'd drop the entire scheme should something go wrong, of course, or if he found it wouldn't blend well with his plans. He wasn't a fool, but having a side project to fill his downtime was something that would keep his cool for a little while longer.

Nikolai turned and started for the door, unable to keep himself from smiling out of his own indulgence. With the last of STARS being hunted down by the Nemesis Prototype and Perseus dying off, all while the UBCS is thinly stretched apart, it was as if Raccoon City was his own kingdom of dominance, his own playground that allowed him to do as he wished. Treachery, murder, burglary, bathe in the glory of another man's loss. Everything was his for the taking, and with a huge payoff at the end.

His earlier frustrations had died off, and he felt like himself again. It was his turn to play.

---

After a minute of silent deliberation, Jill finally decided to open the metal shutter and make a break for it when she heard shots outside, the high-pitched chatter of a fully automatic. To say she was relieved would've been an understatement. She had been feeling daunted by the relentless thumping from the zombies outside. It had been eating at her nerves with the unsettling temptation to shoot herself so that she wouldn't have to hear the zombies anymore - and now, in a matter of seconds, it was quiet once again. However, she now found herself wishing for the zombies to keep her company in a sudden twist of events. The possibility that Perseus or a less friendly Umbrella soldier would've been the one to have taken them out was high.

So much for wishful thinking.

She moved swiftly to the side door in the garage, ducking beneath a disemboweled red compact on a lift and pressing an ear to the cold metal. Nothing but silence; the undead were surely walking no more…

Bam-bam-bam!

Jill jerked back as someone banged on the door with their hand, her heart racing from a brief anxiety attack.

"Valentine! Are you in there? You're not dead, are you?!"

The voice didn't have a recognizable accent, nor was it heavily gruffed, but the familiarity behind it was too much to pass, which meant…

It's one of the UBCS guys from earlier…

Relief washed over her instantly, but as soon as she was about to touch the door's lock, she paused for a moment, unsure if she could still trust Russell after finally having connected the dots together from her recollection of her past research on Jason's device…

What if they're simply using you just to get closer to Frank and…

…no, that's ridiculous! If they had ill intentions, Russell and Lawrence would've quickly taken the opportunity to interrogate you - torture you into submission if they wanted to…

She shook her head, clearly knowing she'd been jumping to conclusions on baseless accusations she probably could only imagine to be possible in a cliched espionage film. Then again, Wesker had proven them all wrong otherwise…

"Coming in - so if you're in there, stand back!"

Goddammit…

Immediately, Jill turned the lock, announcing herself as she threw the door open before Russell could do anything.

"Hey, Russell. I'm alright, by the way."

She felt some genuine relief to see that it was just him and no one else. When she connected her gaze to him, there was something strange about his smile but nonchalant expression, almost as if he was trying his best to hide something from her - or maybe it was simply the detective inside her becoming too paranoid that he was not exactly who she thought he really was.

As he started walking inside, Russell nodded at her and broke eye contact, forcing Jill to step aside as she closed the door behind him.

"Not the five-star rating these zombies were making out this place to be, but…" Russell trailed off, his statement passive enough to make out the obvious. "It's good to see you again in one piece."

His visible concern didn't seem completely hollow or ingenuine. It was a surprise, and while she didn't know how to respond to this, there was some growing irritation. Was she being patronized - painting her as a fool for trusting someone like him? Someone who knowingly let this whole mess happen, all while laughing at her face through the vague countenance she could barely read on him?

At the same time, however, she felt like she had no choice but to play in his game. After all, having someone to back you up and ask for your well-being, particularly in a chaotic setting that they were in, was - well, kind of nice.

And suddenly, you're worried about trust issues when the same guy in front of you just saved your life from being zombie food by the dozens? Come on, now…

Trust issues or not, they were in a survival situation. Whatever Russell and his other buddy had done before, it didn't matter now. She could play the court of law later if and when they make it out of here alive.

Russell didn't seem to notice her slight discomfort, which somehow gave Jill some control over her inner turmoil.

"Heard you were leading that thing away from the Central Station," said Russell, still looking around the garage with his back turned on Jill. "Guessing you weren't lying when you said you're former Delta."

Jill put up a half smile, almost blushing. "Why would I lie about it?"

There was no reply until Russell finally finished examining the oily ground they were standing on and turned his head toward her.

"How did you do it?" he inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you really encounter that monster again?"

Jill frowned, and this time, she was the one now turning her back on him. "That thing is… It's called a Tyrant, if it's what I think it is - or at least some variation of it anyway. Back at that mansion, we… we've encountered a similar being like that. It was one of Frank's soldier buddies, Adrain - something… Turned him into this terrible monster… and now… It seems like Umbrella has finally mastered how to program it for a specific task - in this case, killing me and Frank."

"The numbers…"

Jill turned around, gazing at Russell skeptically.

"What did you say?"

There was a hesitant look in his eyes, and Jill could immediately tell that what she had just said had spooked him or at least stirred something within. He wouldn't just utter "the numbers" and immediately disregard it as complete nonsense. He obviously knows about the numbers that had Alex under their influence before, especially when thinking back about what Wesker had done to him previously.

Maybe now, it was her time to confront him about what she knew about him.

It's now or never.

"You know about those Soviet brainwashing numbers, don't you?" she disclosed.

Russell kept silent for a long moment, his eyes darting elsewhere before shaking his head.

"I… I don't—I can't…"

"Don't!" Jill exclaimed, starting to feel a headache from getting sick of people thinking she knew nothing better than blindly believing in other people's lies. "You and your other UBCS buddies aren't here just to 'rescue civilians," huh? Hmph, why would you when you couldn't care any less about the disasters you all let happen? But tell me one thing: Why? Why go through all the trouble? Why here?!"

For the first time since Jill had met him, immense paranoia was growing in Russell's eyes. His left hand twitched slightly as he immediately hurried toward the small office, scanning their surroundings as though something invisible had been watching them.

Jill didn't take much notice of his irregular reaction. All she wanted from him was answers—real answers this time, and she was not gonna allow him to dodge her questions again, not if it meant trying to understand his goals within the ruined city.

"Would you, for once in your life, just answer the damn—!"

"There's always a blurred line between the truth and a lie," Russell said cryptically, gazing directly at Jill. "And whether or not I tell you why Lawrence and I are really here - it won't change a damn thing."

Jill furrowed her brows at him. "Won't change a damn thing? Fine. Then, what about Konstantin Obolensky? Does that ring a 'bell'?"

The mere mention of that name seemed to have caused Russell to freeze in place. His expression was more surprised than ever, and his eyes seemed to grow more… enraged.

That really hit him, didn't it?

Good. He might finally crack.

"What did you…?" Russell's voice trailed off, unable to keep his breath steady. "How do you…?"

"You said it yourself," she remarked, "it won't change a thing even if I tell you, right?"

Russell's lips turned into a grim line, his scarred face contorted from a hidden madness that she knew was happening within his spinning mind. If someone who happened to be a former member of Perseus would suddenly turn their back on them, and it just so happens for them to be in the city somewhere, it would make a lot of sense for Russell and Lawrence to come here and try hunting them down.

"Woods…" Russell muttered almost silently, grumbling in the process. "It was Woods who told you, huh?"

Jill stared at him piercingly, unwilling to tell him anything about the microcomputer Jason had secretly given to Frank. As long as he tried to withhold any information from her, she'd be doing the exact same thing to him. Eye for an eye and nothing else to spare.

Russell sighed and immediately changed the topic again, almost as if he had somehow read her mind.

"Oliveira's worried about you," he said, clearing his throat. "He and Captain Mikhail, the guy you bandaged earlier - they're at the cable car you told us about, but the old thing needs a new power cable and one of those old-school electrical fuses to start running again. When Oliveira said you were on your way here, I figured I should've… Well, considering what I heard about the uh… tyrant thing… Anyways, there's an evac on standby. If we can get to the clock tower and ring the bells, choppers will come. That's assuming they're still going by the books, or so they say."

He noticed Jill's unchanged expression and shrugged.

"The clock tower bells can be manually rung by hand through a computer system. With its installed satellite signal, that's how Umbrella knows when to do the evac. It's possible that Perseus and anyone else who isn't a friendly will come and try to sabotage everything. As far as I heard, or haven't heard for that matter, the lack of communication from the area means the teams stationed there are probably dead by now. Even if Perseus' waiting for us there, I'm sure we can take them out before they all try calling for backup. Evac choppers shouldn't take more than ten minutes if my calculations don't fail me."

Jill nodded at this, but when she noticed Russell frowning, she was about to speak, and he immediately cut her off.

"If you're wondering why Lawrence or Nikolai aren't with me - just know that the former had gone to deal with the explosion at the construction site, and the latter's gone to get some explosives to help deal with Perseus' remaining forces. Once we get that cable car fixed, I'm staying behind. Got some unfinished business to take care of first."

"You mean to clean up the mess you left behind?" said Jill condescendingly with one hand on her hip and the irate gaze of a mother. "Or let me guess, hunt down a certain somebody?"

Russell ignored her after that, walking towards the raised red car and inspecting it thoroughly.

Jill was starting to feel ill about his silent treatments, which was another way of saying "yes" to all of her running suspicions about him. She needed to hear him say it, and it was becoming hard to keep trusting him by the second when he seemed more focused on evading many of her questions rather than being entirely cooperative. This didn't give her much reason to keep trusting the UBCS.

She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and continued staring at his back, her patience overflowing with madness. At the very least, he seemed eager to help with the missing parts for the cable car, so when she saw him trying to untangle some of the wires connected to machines Jill didn't know about, she reluctantly decided to give him a hand.

"Careful," said Jill, trying to keep some of the hanging wires away from the oily ground. She had an instinctive mistrust of electrical equipment and vaguely believed that people who messed around with wires were simply asking to be electrocuted.

"I got it," said Russell casually. "I've dealt with these kinds of stuff throughout my entire military career. Don't think I'm just some mindless idiot who…"

Crack!

A red-white spark spat out from one of the trailing wires, loud, luminous, and as explosive as a gunshot. Before Jill could even breathe, the cement ground was on fire. Flames grew in a gradual build, with no sense of pattern or expansion; they were suddenly and completely ablaze, about a meter high and rising.

You were saying?

"This way!" Jill shouted, running directly into the small office, the oil-fed fire blasting heat against her bare skin.

Too much flammable stuff in here. Any second, and this place will blow up to bits!

Russell was right behind her, cursing loudly as they ran through the office. In the midst of the heat, Jill's blood ran cold. She did not want to know the true power of the incoming explosion if it touched the underground tanks in front of the station.

A chain pulley hung next to the steel shutter that blocked the front door. Jill ran for it, but Russell was already two steps ahead of her, grabbing and pulling the chain, hand over hand, grunting as the shutter slowly inched higher in spite of the frantic rattle of metal links.

"Crawl through!" shouted Russell, his voice almost louder than the roaring rumble of the flames spreading inside the shop.

"Russell, the tanks outside…"

"I know! MOVE!"

The space between the shutter and the floor was maybe a little over a foot, but Jill managed to flatten herself enough to drag herself against the cold floor, shouting up to Russell before she finally made it outside.

"That's enough! Just come on out!"

As she stumbled to her feet, she reached around to grab Russell's hand and pulled him up after her.

Inside the shop, something blew up, shaking the ground underneath them, a sign of impending danger if none of them were far away enough.

Must've been some small gas tank or a cabinet full of machine oil…

Jesus, I must be cursed to have everything blowing up around me constantly…

Russell grabbed her arm forcefully, snapping her out of her brief vegetative state of shock. "Let's go!"

She didn't need to be told twice. With the rising light pouring from the shop's windows, illuminating in manic orange the heaped corpses of at least eight virus carriers, she ran, Russell beside her.

Their path was entirely blocked, the road jammed with littered cars in a machinery maze that could potentially fuel the incoming fire worse than before, perhaps having the power to burn the entire street to the ground. There was no time to spare, and Jill could feel the seconds flying faster than a speeding jet as they struggled through the gridlock of dead metal and blank, staring glass. The first real explosion had shattered the windows and the front glass door, the flying debris powerful enough to send small shards raining over them past a couple of vehicles. They were still too close, but all they could do was continue what they were doing: run and pray that the fire would somehow miss the main tanks.

Maybe we should stop and take cover; maybe we're out of the blast radius by now, but…

Her instincts told her to trust Russell, and she listened to them without further question and kept running alongside him…

…until she heard something that made her deaf so suddenly that the total absence of sound shut her brain from any logical thought.

All she knew at that very moment was that she was running. Then, an enormous wave of pressure pushed her off her feet from behind, lifting her up and forward at once. The side of a beaten panel truck rushed at her, and Russell screamed something. And then there was nothing but darkness and a distant sun that danced at the edges of her vision before finally fading away into a chaos of restless dreams that dawned from the angry light of pain and misery.

---

After a brief conversation with the Hispanic, who he now knew as Carlos Oliveira, and being informed that Cryan, or Adler, whichever name it was now, had gone to locate Miss Valentine and save her from certain doom, Nikolai decided to wait with them.

Hmph… and I was starting to think that Cryan's entire backstory was sound…

Sure, it may have been used more of a ruse to hide his identity from whoever he had been trying to hide it from, but not that it truly mattered to him. Mikhail's fever only worsened, especially after he decided to walk and join them in their conversation in the second car. The deep rumbling explosion that had quaked the ground beneath the trolley, which had preceded a luminous light of the night sky to the south of the cable car, suggested that there had been a huge blaze at the gas station. There were many possibilities of its cause, one of which stood out from all else: the Nemesis.

Hopefully, it has done its work by now. That way, it'll save me the job of doing it myself.

Nikolai was willing to bet that Adler and the other STARS member had burned to a crisp, suppressing a smile in front of Carlos as much as he could. If he wanted to continue his cooperative charade of being a good teammate, he'd have to consider other options to keep himself entertained.

Which means I'll have to contribute to locating parts of the cable car myself.

It was a small, irritating thought but one that could still benefit him if the RV back at the station needed some of the same things to get it running. He'd found boxes of spare batteries and fuses inside the Central Station building and a five-gallon container of good-quality machine oil, more than enough parts to ensure the parked RV was in good condition, making the trip even more worthwhile.

Good enough for these idiots to get the cable car running. Unfortunately for them, no wiring to bypass the shorted circuits for the cable car yet.

Nikolai wondered why none of them had thought about getting missing parts by breaking into the station's maintenance room. He decided it was probably due to an absence of imagination.

"No… No, it can't… fire! Fire! They're… they're everywhere! Don't let them… Don't…"

Nikolai looked up curiously from his inspection of the trolley's control panel, watching the Hispanic crouch and hold a delirious Mikhail's trembling, weak hand.

"We're here, Captain," Carlos said softly. "You're safe now."

Whatever Mikhail had in mind was lost as he dropped back into his troubled slumber, the ancient bench creaking beneath his restless movements. It was so pathetic to watch him writhe in his own delirium. He could at least babble out something more interesting.

Nikolai stood up and stretched, turning toward the door. He hadn't had the time to double-check and see if the RV was still in working condition due to some continuous setbacks with multiple encounters with those multi-legged critters from before, forcing him to take a detour directly into downtown instead. With no one aware that there were more things to search for inside the Central Station, things were much easier. He couldn't risk being seen with supplies they could use for the trolley, so instead, he'd hidden a bag filled with two different gallons of machine oil and gasoline in case he'd ever need them to get the RV up and running.

That's assuming the battery isn't dead, too; otherwise, I'll need some jumper cables.

He could get a pair on his way back into town, probably all the way back to that same damned parking garage where he'd tracked Mikhail and met the others; he'd noticed some shelves of equipment there. All of this running back and forth was becoming tiresome, but there was a sense of relief that most of the cannibals in the area had been dealt with already, so it wouldn't take too much time, and when he returned, he could wait for the others to get the trolley fixed and use it to unlock their own deaths. He could even reward himself for his efforts by whispering to Mikhail who was responsible for his injury. Hell, maybe even tell the others of his affiliation with Perseus, giving them a brief satisfaction to leave him behind.

Hmhm… one thing at a time.

"I'm going to look for anything useful that could give us an edge to stay ahead of those fools," Nikolai disclosed without waiting for Oliveira's response.

The Hispanic muttered something that sounded neither interesting nor entertaining when Nikolai finally stepped out into the train's yard, thinking vaguely about where he might eat and sleep for the night.

Seconds later, he saw two figures stumbling ahead of him, their forms half-hidden in the sparse light from a dying fire in the northwest corner of the yard. They drew closer, and he saw that both Adler and Miss Valentine managed to escape death after all, undoubtedly the same people he had the pleasure and displeasure to meet at the parking garage earlier. Their clothing was covered in grime and ash, their exposed skin reddened and sludgy; perhaps Oliveira hadn't been mistaken when he said Miss Valentine was forced to take a detour to the local gas station, and Adler following right after…

…and once again, let the games begin!

"Adler! Miss Valentine! Are any of you hurt? Are you both okay?" he took a step closer, making sure that the light around them shined over his countenance to show the deep concern on his face.

None of them looked particularly fond to see him, and yet Nikolai tried his best to keep himself from showing up too uptight. A moment later, the mercenary grunt furrowed his brows.

"How did you figure?" Adler said cautiously.

Nikolai almost bit his tongue, having realized what he had just let slip. He played it dumb nonetheless, trying to make sure his suspicions were, in fact, correct.

"Seeing the state both of you are in right now, I thought the only logical thing I could—"

"Don't pull a fast one on me," he warned, and Nikolai quickly noticed his right arm was seemingly becoming more tense as he held his rifle tighter. "I meant, how did you figure that my name is Adler?"

Nikolai gave a soft smile. "Oh. Oliveira told me. He said calling you by either name wouldn't be a huge deal." He turned his attention towards Jill, offering a hand to her. "Miss Valentine… we are indebted to you for telling us about the trolley. Please, I insist you to let me give you a hand."

She stared at him piercingly, her expression unreadable yet undeniably so, feeling annoyed by Nikolai's mere presence. She didn't seem like the making friends type, which rather pleased him, though something about her intrigued him. Surprisingly, she survived for this long as a living target for the Nemesis Prototype, but it was only a matter of time before she, too, perished, just like many others before her.

If the Nemesis doesn't finish her off soon, the cable car will. If she manages to survive that by dumb luck, I'll take care of it myself.

"How's Mikhail?" Jill asked, ignoring his offer completely.

Nikolai looked away from Jill's unwavering stare to answer her in a way that made him seem more concerned about Mikhail's health and not as combative as he would've liked to act in return.

"Not very well, I'm afraid. We've got very little time before the inevitable happens. Did you find anything useful? Oliveira told me there could've been some repair equipment back there that would've been of some use."

Jill scoffed at this. "If you want them, be my guest. Everything's burned up back there. If only if…"

"Did you get your explosives?" Adler interrupted, and he was now the one watching him carefully. "Where were they?"

His tone wasn't openly hostile but too close to ignore. It seemed like whatever skills Adler seemed to have as an old soldier was one where he could sense something wasn't right about certain people. Nikolai needed to tread carefully if he wanted this partnership to last as long as he'd liked. Not surprising, considering Adler had quite the experience as a secretive man, enough for rumors and conspiracies to spread amongst the troops.

As if there were any merit behind those ridiculous stories…

He's just your average American, nothing more.

"There weren't any explosives," he said slowly. "All I found were empty boxes." He shot another glance at Jill, abruptly deciding to push them slightly to see how forthright they truly were. "Is there something wrong? You seem…tense."

The cable car's door behind Nikolai slid open and closed, followed by a loud and lively voice.

"Oh my God—you're both alive!" shouted Carlos in disbelief, running a few steps before stopping next to Nikolai. "I knew you'd make it Supercop! Oh… Am I interrupting something?"

Nikolai hastily turned his head toward him as if giving him a scolding look at him for not watching over Mikhail.

Carlos flushed and quickly spoke up again, trying to redirect the awkward situation he just put himself into.

"Mikhail's resting now, but if we don't hurry up and get this fixed any time soon, he'll never make it out alive."

Nikolai locked into Adler's gaze for a beat longer before nodding and turning his full attention to Carlos. "Agreed. Then let's go over our plan; we'll—hey! You!"

Nikolai had just turned around to face the other pair when two humanoid forms behind them stepped into view. Without hesitation, he aimed his sidearm and shot through the empty space between Jill and Adler, catching all of them off-guard as they instinctively ducked, moving past Nikolai and Carlos as they aimed their firearms in the same direction as Nikolai had done seconds before. The moving forms ran past the edge of the corner where they came from, hiding from the group's hostile behavior.

"Perseus?" Carlos whispered.

"Not taking any chances," Nikolai uttered, his grip firm and tightened.

"Unlikely, but…" Jill responded.

"Unless they've been hiding like the rats they are," muttered Adler more aggressively.

At this point, he did not care who they were. He could pass it down as a "fatal mistake" to excuse himself for murdering anybody he no longer wanted to have in his little game of trust and deceit.

A moment later, a voice rang out from the other side.

"We ain't Perseus. And for the love of God, if you wanna be discrete, 'least don't make it obvious."

The figure's voice came out of the shadows. He raised his hands slowly as he stepped further into the light, followed by another, who was to his left behind him.

"Who the fuck taught you how to shoot that thing, son?" said the man behind the former, walking more casually as though he was fairly confident that neither of them were going to shoot him on sight. Once the light around them illuminated the older man with grungy and ragged, casual clothing and a huge smug on his face, he gazed directly at Nikolai, his face somewhat familiar from the reports Nikolai had seen and read during the Watchdog meetings. "If you're gonna kill someone, fuckin' do it, and don't waste your time and energy with warning shots. Never ends well for ya."

That man…

Is he…?

"Woods?" Adler faltered in disbelief, slowly lowering his rifle.

"Wait, the Frank Woods?" said Carlos, sounding almost rhetorical.

"Frank!" Jill exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and guilt. She stepped closer to him, and in an instant, she threw herself to him in a hug. "I thought I lost you again down there. I should've found a way down sooner if it wasn't for…"

The older man retracted himself from her slightly and gave her a reassuring smile, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, kid. In my current state, I can't be killed that easily. Not that I was ever easy to kill anyway. What's a few stones got over me, huh?"

Jill chuckled slightly, breaking apart their brief hug. "Yeah, I guess, but…hey, what happened to your left eye? The last time I saw you, it… Your eye, it's more… blue, but… paler."

Hmm… does he have a case of heterochromia, or is he…?

There was a sudden click in Nikolai's mind.

He was used as a test subject for t-Virus research at the hospital, which means he's most likely infected. As if things couldn't get any more interesting than this.

"Oh, this?" Woods put a brief finger just underneath his eye that held a more prominent color than the other one and simply shrugged it off. "It's uh… it's nothin'. Anyways, we should…"

Nikolai noticed Woods had paused as soon as his gaze was fixed in his direction, and for a moment, Nikolai thought he might've known something about him until the voice beside him gave him a huge relief on the inside.

"Frank goddamn Woods," Adler said coolly, raising a handshake to him. "How long has it been?"

When Jill stepped aside, Woods merely stared back at Adler with a reflective look of disdain toward him, indifferent about his friendly gesture.

"Not long enough," said Woods lowly. "Why didn't you kill Bell when you had the chance?"

So these two got some history together with Bell, huh? Well, this is definitely something to keep in mind.

Adler sighed, absently turning his head to the side, closing his eyes as he spoke. "I was naive to think that he could turn his life around with a new identity—to give him a second chance when he helped us do what needed to be done…for our sake and the rest of the world's. But now…"

"But now the fucker killed a kid who I promised I get them back to their father!" he growled in retaliation, stepping closer to him, looking livid. "Guess I should be saying my thanks to you…"

Woods' fist flew in a flash, sinking into Adler's right cheek as hard as he could, without hesitation. Jill and Malone had tried restraining him forcibly, only to be aggressively pushed aside by the guy who possessed more strength than the combined strength of three men with bulkier bodies. He merely stood his position after, his eyes piercing down on Adler, who was knocked to the ground while looking down as he spit blood, sporting a swollen lip.

If this is how it will all go down with mistrust and violent tantrums, my job has suddenly become easier than I thought.

Nikolai pressed his lips in a grim line, looking as though he was disappointed with the way things were going, but in reality, it was an attempt to hide his trembling grin, which was harder than he could've previously imagined. At this rate, he wouldn't even have to worry about Nemesis or the cable car to do the work for him…

…let alone his infection if the symptoms of the t-Virus are to be accounted for.

In the reports he's read, the t-virus slowly makes you lose any sense of self, and in most instances, it always starts off with an increased state of aggression and agitation—and Woods may have just proven that fact alone—he's most likely on borrowed time before he succumbs to his own infection.

And quite the interesting report I'd have by the time it happens. Oh, the luxury of seeing it all in action…

Too bad his fate has already been sealed much earlier than I'd like…unless - of course - he turns faster than expected.

As he suppressed another wide smile that desperately wanted to come out, Adler slowly pushed himself up, refusing Oliveira's extended hand to help him stand.

"No…it's alright," he said to the younger soldier almost breathlessly. "I…I deserved it - and worse."

"Fuckin' damn right you do!" said Woods in a quick shout as he shook his hand, which he used to punch the scarred grunt in the face. He cocked his head toward Jill, his expression rather unchanged, and whispered just loud enough for almost everyone to hear. "Genuine question: Do you trust these guys?"

Jill looked around at the small group of survivors. Her eyes lingered on each person—Oliveira, Adler, Malone, and finally Nikolai. When she connected her gaze with him, she hesitated for a moment, and Nikolai noted the flicker of doubt in her eyes but then sighed and nodded.

"They…they all saved me at some point," she began, her voice quiet but firm. "Nemesis followed me all the way to the restaurant, and when I chucked an oil lamp at it to blow it up near a ruptured gas tank…Carlos, Russell, Lawrence…they were all there to back me up. Then, the gas station happened… I tried to get that thing away from here, but later when I got myself trapped with a group of zombies, Russell saved me. If it weren't for them…"

Nikolai's interest piqued at the mention of another of Adler's alternate names, possibly his first name, Malone's, and Nemesis. Jill continued after her brief pause.

"Despite their affiliations with Umbrella, for whatever true purpose they have with them, I trust them," Jill admitted. "They've proven themselves enough."

Nikolai's lips twitched into a slight smirk. Actions indeed. He considered the irony that trust was such a fragile thing, easily swayed by moments of heroism or necessity. He knew better than to place his faith in anyone but himself. Trust was a flaw he could not afford, even when it meant business with clients who seethed at each other's presence.

He watched as Jill's words seemed to bolster the others, strengthening their camaraderie. Adler nodded solemnly, acknowledging her trust. Lawrence gave a subtle wink of acknowledgment, lowering his green cap slightly over his forehead, closer to eye level. Carlos gave a small smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and determination.

Nikolai, however, remained on the periphery, almost detached. To him, this display of unity was just another angle to exploit in this game of trust and deceit. He would play his part for now, but he was always ready to shift gears if it served his interests better than he had first anticipated.

We'll see how long this truly lasts.

Nikolai saw Woods nodding at Jill's words, acknowledging and accepting her reasoning. Then, he quickly turned to the rest of the group, his serious tone business-like.

"So, what are our current plans for escape? Woods asked.

Nikolai saw his moment, so he stepped in and played his part. He cleared his throat and started to speak smoothly.

"As I was saying earlier, we need to split up," he proposed. "If one group can come up with a power cable, I'll see what I can do about a fuse - there's a power station not too far from here, I'll look there. Back at the garage where we found Mikhail, I'm sure I saw some battery cables, you should try there. Another group should try looking for some oil in case there isn't enough for the cable car to run across the entire city. Regardless of our success, we meet back here in half an hour."

Half the group talked amongst themselves while the other half looked on the ground, thinking and wondering. Nikolai eyed Adler and Lawrence in particular, sensing that both of them had other plans in mind as they exchanged glances, and one spoke up.

"We'll go try looking for oil at the police station as we try sweeping the area," said Adler. "There might be clues regarding Perseus' activities - things we could use to really nail them once we try exposing this to the world somehow. Don't bother waiting for us if we don't make it back here in time. We'll walk it on foot if we have to."

Nikolai's eyes narrowed slightly, his suspicion piqued. Why the police station, of all places? Were they aware of his hidden affiliations with Perseus, or did they have other motives?

I shouldn't insist on them not going, or I'll make things worse for myself. But then again, an additional batch of T-103s could show up at any time within the area, so regardless, it is a choice I should even encourage.

Nikolai nodded forcefully, trying to avoid further prying into their true intentions.

Jill then interjected. "Frank and I will join them since the way to the parking garage is about the same as the police station anyway."

Nikolai nodded again, playing the true cooperative comrade.

"I'll stay and continue to keep guard," Carlos offered. "I'll be on the lookout for anything suspicious while I check over on the Captain."

"Then it's all settled," Nikolai accentuated to everyone. "Okay, people. Let's get moving!"

He made sure he was the first to jog all the way through Lonsdale Yard and quickly detour toward the Central Station's building, silently congratulating himself as he did so. They would all be busy fetching the things they needed for the cable car while all he had to do was walk a dozen more steps into the trolley station and reach into a box.

Which means I'll have plenty of time left to think of what I'd like to do with Mikhail and Oliveira, whether to get rid of them or leave them to die with the rigged car…

I wonder what they'll all talk about when I'm not around…

Perhaps he'd give the fuse to Oliveira, make up something dramatic, and be on his own way to meet up with the STARS duo before revealing his true nature.

Nikolai walked through the bushes near the exit of Lonsdale Yard, watching over the others passing by without being seen. None of them seemed to talk with one another. Despite this, things were getting interesting, finally: Perseus seemed to be heading closer to extinction, the remnants of the UBCS still trusted him and worked under him, Mikhail was already at death's door, and the addition of another STARS member.

He glanced at the gate leading back into City Hall's small courtyard, all four individuals now gone. Russell Adler, Jill Valentine, and Frank Woods seemed more suspicious of him, although Woods merely generalized rather than putting the whole weight of his doubts on him personally. For someone who had been heavily experimented on previously, Woods seemed to be rather normal, or as normal as he could be with his viral infection.

"And if the infection doesn't kill him, something else will," he said softly, slowly turning his smile into the large grin he had been suppressing for so long.

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Author's Note: First off, I'd like to apologize for the long wait and lack of upload last month. While I had a few setbacks (one of them being an accidental file deletion worth at least 5k words worth of writing, whoops), I did my best to bring you this huge of a chapter despite it all. As I said before, I ain't giving up on it, not when I'm more than halfway done with my current plans for the entire crossover.

Now, with what I think about Black Ops 6…

I'm generally very impressed with what I've seen so far! From the live-action trailer to the reveal trailer and gameplay demonstrations - it all seems very promising! I'm probably setting myself up for disappointment, but honestly, I haven't been this excited for an upcoming CoD game in ages since, at least, maybe Black Ops 2. Plus, they've been developing this title for at least four years, so that's gotta count for something, right? I'll definitely be playing the game on Day 1 for sure. Hopefully, they also include the older CoD games on Game Pass.

Now for RE…

The classic trilogy is now available to buy for PC via GOG! It's cool to see that Capcom still cares for its older games and has given GOG permission to make them more accessible for people with modern PCs. Only RE1 is currently available to download and play, while RE2 is still in its testing stages, and RE3 is still being developed for later this year as of me writing this right now. All three games are based on their original ports on PC, so they won't generally have remaster-like enhancements (like HD pre-rendered backgrounds, better FMV resolution & framerate, remade HD textures, etc), which is understandable, considering it's mainly for preserving the originality of these older games. Still, at least now, there's a proper way to support these games in an official capacity, so if you're here exclusively as a CoD fan/player (or an RE fan who recently got into the newer games) and have a PC, even if it's a ten-year-old potato, now it's your chance to get these older games and try them out! You won't be disappointed! Controls may not be by today's standards, but that's just part of the old-school charm hehehe.

This isn't CoD or RE-related, but the reveal of Metroid Prime 4: Beyond was probably THE BEST THING SHOWN IN FOREVER! I've been waiting 7 years for it (17 if you count the last sequel's release date, which was back in 2007)! This month has been filled with so many good announcements that late-2024/2025 is looking pretty great for gaming, in my opinion!

Also, 2025 is just around the corner. To think that BO2's future events would come this soon…

Anyway, rant aside, I hope you enjoyed this chunky chapter. It was going to be divided into two, but I think it still fits with the way how it's structured. Plus, ya'll deserve it after being patient for this long!

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Review Responses:

Guest - Thanks, man! I'm very happy to be consistent on something, at least!

am6231291 - It's too early to say anything about that, at least until the game comes out and having played it myself, but considering what they've shown so far, there were a couple of things that I somehow managed to predict right for the future of this crossover, as well as what I have already written up previously. I did throw in a small reference based on the promotional material we've got, so there's that!

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One more thing…

Next month, I will be on vacation visiting my family members in Mexico for two weeks, starting on the 8th, so there's a high chance I won't be uploading anything by that time, unfortunately. I'll try something on my birthday on the 29th later that month, but no guarantees. Otherwise, you'll most likely be looking at an August upload.

See you all in the next chapter!

P.S. I'm calling it now… WE NEED DINO CRISIS 1 & 2 NEXT! :3