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Written by: Osamu Makino
Translated by: TheBatman; Fletcherc (German)



The second novel in the two-part novelization of BIOHAZARD UMBRELLA CHRONICLES.

Project Umbrella Translation


"When there is no more room in hell the dead will walk the earth." - From the film; 'Dawn of the Dead'


"Hey darling, I'd like a glass of milk.," said Delores in a soothingly soft voice, "and then some toast."
"At least you are not too demanding," said Jason as Delores tenderly snuggled against him.
"I don't think its too much to ask," she replied. Her hands wandered over Jason's body and caressed him. The two were in bed. Naked.
Delores' fingertips just circled the small area which Jason wanted her to touch the most.
"Before we get to that..." Delores voice was excited now, she locked lips with Jason's mouth before finishing her sentence; "I breakfast."
Jason clicked his tongue and rolled out of bed. His parents were away, would not be back until tomorrow at noon, he had liked that and of course, had let Delores know immediately. Such an opportunity did not present itself too often. Delores didn't take much persuasion before they put a very enjoyable night behind them.
But, thought Jason as he pushed the bread into the toaster, does this girl really love me? I love her with all my heart but...Why is Delores, the prettiest cheerleader and the most desired girl in the whole school who could have picked anyone she wanted, picked me?
Jason lacked self-confidence, and he couldn't believe it. Maybe she was just playing a little game with him and wanted to take advantage. It was hard for him to keep his doubts in check. Worse, he began to hate himself for his doubts. But then he remembered last night and came to the conclusion that that basically no matter what motivations were in play he should just enjoy the game. And yet...
"Hurry up!"
"Yeah," Jason replied cheerfully as he poured the milk into a cup. From the garden he suddenly heard a strange noise. A scratching noise.
"Oh, great." Jason blurted.
Valentine, the domestic cat, had been shut out the night before. He usually showed no interest in Jason, but when he brought a girl home the cat would get downright angry. Even with Helen, his cousin. For women and cats were a bad combination, Jason thought to himself.
He opened the door from the kitchen into the garden, but there was no sign of the cat, and nothing else.
"Jason? What the hell are you doing?"
It could not possibly take this long. Delores was angry. Her relationship with Jason had only just begun. She appreciated his loyalty and devotion, and his almost sickening obedience flattered her. At this point in their relationship they could afford no misunderstandings.
"That's enough Jason!"
No answer. He begs for punishment thought Delores, wrapping a towel around herself and standing up.
"Can I finally get my breakfast now?"
Her tone had nothing teasing or playful left in it and she made it sound unmistakably clear that she was angry. But it was in vain. A creature suddenly stood before her. It no longer understood human language. It had only one objective, namely, its overwhelming hunger. And it satisfied that objective, with the help of Delores. But compared to the chaotic events that took place in Raccoon City that day, this was an almost trivial incident...


Leon S. Kennedy was having what we would call a very bad day. At precisely the same time as Raccoon City was transformed into a hell on earth - the young policeman was about to take up his first ever shift with the Raccoon City Police Department.
Even just the night before he had been standing under an unlucky star. Through sheer stress and nervousness he could simply not get to sleep. It was only towards the early hours of the morning had he managed to doze off. And of course, his morning alarm clock had just to give up the ghost and die. The terrible punishment for this delay would be waiting for him practically outside his own front door; a city full of zombies. Raccoon City was populated by hordes of the living dead. Thus, Leon had had to fight his way through to the police station through hordes of monsters. On his way he met a young woman named Claire who was searching for her missing brother. His name was Chris Redfield, and was one of the elite police officers for the RCPD. Even for them it had been a really bad day.
Leon had promised Claire to help find her brother, but before they could think too far ahead they had been forced to separate. As soon as Leon arrived at the police headquarters, he found that it too had been transformed into a nest of zombies. Whilst searching for Claire, whom he had arranged to meet at the police headquarters, Leon was looking around the ground floor of the building. But he could find neither Claire nor any other survivors. He then worked his way up until he reached the roof of the building.
Leon probably owed his survival to the fact that he had found plenty of weapons, which he had found in the building and taken himself. After a fruitless search of the flat roof of the police station, he heard a cry from the road below him. The young policeman threw a glance downward. Zombies and zombie dogs attacked several people running round in hopeless panic. Leon took out his M16 Ge-Defence from his back and took aim at his targets. He was quite used to shooting whilst standing and he was an excellent marksman. The young policeman fired. Next to the creature, the bullet drilled into the asphalt of the road. Leon corrected the settings of the scope and fired a second shot. One of the zombies was hurled backwards and collapsed. More targets were fired at and it was as if an invisible hand was knocking all the zombies down on the road below. The young policeman did not waste ammunition, every shot knocked one of the zombies stone dead.
Suddenly a shot rang out in the distance, and at almost the same moment Leon felt a burning pain on his right cheek. He touched the spot and saw bright red blood on his fingers. Someone was shooting at him. He quickly looked around and again another shot rang out. Shards of the concrete floor on the flat roof flew up in the air right next to him. Leon tried to identify the direction from which the shots were coming from. His eyes wandered upwards and above him a helicopter was circling. With the helicopter looking down on him on the flat room, Leon was a perfect target for it.
Leon ran towards the staircase and made his way down. He pulled his pistol from his holster and shouldered the rifle. Here, inside the building, a long-ranged weapon was clearly at a disadvantage. Taking the direct route, he reached the ground floor and stormed back through the entrance hall. But there was not a soul to be seen. Only dead bodies, which trudged throughout the area.
Leon wondered who had shot at him from the helicopter. Hard to believe that zombies were in the helicopter. Incredulous, the young policeman shook his head. That would just be too much. As he gasped for breath, his mind raced. But the longer he thought about it, the less likely it seemed that he would come to a conclusion. Finally, he brushed this thought aside and went down to the parking garage in the basement, for this area had not yet been searched.
Carefully, and holding his gun at the ready, Leon looked around. Fortunately, there seemed to be no zombies roaming around down here. Suddenly, a shot rang out and the projectile buried itself in the pillar next to him. Leon turned around and saw a strikingly attractive woman with an exotic face. She stared back at him with anxious eyes. This was the first encounter between Leon and Ada.


Wesker was sitting in a small cabin, which had the look of a cockpit in an airplane. It was a mobile command centre, a special edition for the Umbrella Corporation. The car was parked in the suburbs of Raccoon City, because from here Wesker could follow the events taking place in the city and if necessary, could escape from the town without any problems.
No less than twelve monitors in various sizes shone inside the car. Wesker kept them all in mind as he advanced from one camera to the next with astonishing speed. His eyes did not leave the monitors when he heard radio traffic which had suddenly started up in his headphones.

-The Raccoon City Police are all dead. Brian, however, escapes us.
-Kill him. If under any circumstances he manages to escape, his relationship to the company may be exposed to outside sources. That will be a big problem.
-Do not worry. The guy has already virtually committed suicide. He wanted to stay inside the police department and not venture around outside. Even if he changes his mind now, he has no chance of escaping.

The conversation was overlaid by the sound of a helicopter in the background. Despite the noise, Wesker's superhuman hearing allowed him to identify the voices. No doubt, one of the voices was clearly Sergei. In the distance, gunshots could be heard over and over again.

-Look at that little guy there who wants to play the big cowboy? He is condemned property as a human being. This is making me look bad!

A metallic click was heard, Sergei was obviously loading a fresh magazine, pulled the load lever through and pushed the selector switch up. These noises were familiar to Wesker and he got an image in his head of Sergei with a Kalashnikov assault rifle.
A shot rang out. And another. It appeared Sergei was shooting at someone from the helicopter.

-Sergei? Sergei!
-What is it?
-Time is up Sergei! There is no more time for your little game!
-Sorry, but this is one game I have to finish.

Wesker grinned ciontemptuously. Sergei just always had to exaggerate. He wasted his precious time on such follies. Guys like Sergei who were intoxicated by their own lust for power, were doomed. For how powerful they were now, one day they would perish. And that day for Sergei was already creeping closer. Wesker was absolutely convinced of it.
Wesker listened to the radio traffic and repeatedly changed the frequency. There were obvious overlaps with radio frequencies, which led to a big mess for the listener.

-Stop! Do not come any closer! Noooo!
-Answer me please! I absolutely need reinforcements here now!
-This will be our last broadcast. For several days now we have had no contact with the outside world.
-Alpha Team. This is Hunk. Please respond.

Wesker's ears pricked up. This man he knew. Hunk was a member of the unit that that was composed from an elite pool of special agents, and like the UBCS, they represented a dark side of the Umbrella Corporation.

-On frequency 777 we want our listeners to enjoy chat with pleasant music and...
-Hunk? Can you hear me? Hunk? This is Nighthawk. The radio is damaged.
-‘G' is guaranteed. But the rest of Alpha Team have been wiped out. I am moving now towards the extraction point.
-You are the only one left? You are real angel of death.
-This is our last ever show. If anyone is still alive out there, get out of this town as fast as possible!
-The traffic in the city has come to a complete standstill. There are big concerns for the welfare of the inhabitants.
-Hunk! Hunk!
-I hear you.
-What about William?
-He is caught up in a deadly game. Shortly before his death it looks like he administered ‘G' to himself and revived. He is the reason that the unit has been wiped out completely.
-Understood. And what about the remaining G samples?
-Unknown. They were probably released into the environment following the battle. It will probably soon be necessary to implicate countermeasures.
-Roger. We will derive immediate response!
-You have to believe us! Help is on its way! We're stranded here. All we can do is re-transmit. This place is full of monsters!
-We have so many injuries! All is lost!
-What has become of this city? Raccoon City is lost. These monsters are not just dead, they are damn immortal!
-So far, this is the latest news we have obtained. The Umbrella Corporation, which operates a production facility for pharmaceuticals in Raccoon City, has today in regard following...
-It's over, it's over. Everything is over!
-Please help. I repeat! Need help urgently. Get me out of here! I am injured and cannot move.

Hunk had apparantly fulfilled his mission and escaped via helicopter. Wesker had come to the city looking for the very same thing, namely the so called G-Virus, which he assumed had been developed in the underground laboratory in Raccoon City. William Birkin, who had once worked with Wesker in the Arklay Mountains, had been involved in the development of the virus.
The Umbrella Corporation had managed with Hunk's help, to extract the G-Virus from the city in the midst of all the chaos. In necessary, Wesker would have easily been able to steal the G-Virus from Umbrella by force. But there was another, less risky alternative, with whom he had entrusted to his more subtle reserve force, the female spy, Ada Wong. But apparently, Ada had not yet been successful in gaining possession of the virus.
At that moment, the picture changed on one of the monitors. A message from outside had hit. A pale, middle-aged man was staring at the screen facing Wesker. His eyes were moist and he was trembling like a little lap-dog.
"What does this mean?" He asked.
Wesker did not answer. He stared at the man's face in silence.
"Dead bodies are running around. They run around and eat people. You were probably aware of this the whole time. You knew that this research would lead to such a crazy thing. Am I right?"
"What's next?"
"If you knew it, why did you not prevent it?"
"Why should I?"
"I have my wife and my children..." The man buried his face in his hands. Violent sobs could be heard. A jittery motion spread over his face and he stared with fierce red eyes at the camera.
"So you did know. You knew and you did nothing about it?"
"Listen," said Wesker, showing not the slightest hint of emotion. "I have another agent out there with you. All you have to do is hand the transmitter over to her. Then your job is done. Then you can leave, go whereever you want and you will never hear from me again."
"One moment! Can you tell me how to get out of here? It is almost impossible for a normal person and I'm not a damn superhero! Hey, listen to me!" The man shouted and pushed his face close to the camera, as if to bite it.
Wesker turned off the screen. It was as if he had switched off the whole world with it.


To successfully complete your missions even under the most adverse circumstances and survive was a talent Ada Wong had demonstrated for various organisations with her intelligence work, and she was proud of it. Her unshakable self-confidence told her that this mission would be no different. Even if the city she happened to be in had transformed into a complete nightmare, full of the decomposed walking dead.
Violence and death reigned in the streets of this city, but in Cambodia or the Khmer Rouge during the massacres of Hutu in Rwanda, for them it could not have been much different. Throughout the crisis and conflict areas of the world she had done her jobs, and she had always returned home alive. Thus the state of Raccoon City were in her eyes, nothing special.
The world was full of misery. There were these resurrected dead beings, who feast on the flesh of the living, yet they did not shake Ada much. Her mission this time had merged with Albert Wesker. No doubt, the fee that had been offered to her was more than tempting, but even more than that was Albert Wesker the person, that made her accept the offer. Ada had already met some men who wanted to stand as rulers of the world. But the men who dreamed of holding the world in their hands often fell into two catagories; Some were mere fools, others were capable fools.
Wesker had an unusually strong will, and a pronounced energy that was just as strong. But above all, it was his gift of planning the way forward with a certain calm, sober and necessary consideration which was appealing to Ada. Apart from that fact there was no doubt that Wesker was a fool. The majority of men were fools. You had to wonder what they would promise that would be of any benefit if they were to rule the world. Finally, it would mean nothing more than they would become managers in a world where in the final result they would have to serve her.
What I need is just a little fun. And if fun is ruined in this world, then it should be my right. This was Ada's creed. The men worked with their eternal power games, but they were like dogs that were chasing each other's tails. But among all these fools Wesker seemed particularly attractive to possess, and he had long been the first to Ada that gave her the feeling that she would have interesting things to see from him.
Now she found herself under his command in the middle of this hell again. She was only just beginning their mission, and she was excited like a little child who had visited an amusement park for the first time, though Ada as a child had never had the pleasure of visiting such a park.
She was located in the parking garage of the Raccoon City Police Headquarters and was in possession of some information indicating that there was someone in prison who knew an escape route out of the city. Ada's task was not yet completed, but she had to secure an escape route. And it was for this reason, that she had arrived at the police headquarters.
Of course, it was easy for Ada to walk directly into a building where everything was lost in complete chaos. Who was there to prevent her from entering the building? It was quite possible that there were only zombies running around in here and that the prisoner had been killed long ago.
But luck is known to be on the side of the fittest and that it would work itself out somehow. And no matter what happened, Ada was optimistic enough to believe that there was an approaprite countermeasure to any possible danger situation.
The person who guaranteed Ada's luck, suddenly appeared before her; a young man in a police uniform approached hastily. Ada decided immeditely to harness this man for her own purposes. No matter how crazy the situation could be, men would believe always meeting a woman in these types of circumstances was a pure accident. No way a man could get the idea that everything was planned or could be contrived. The more likely a coincidence, the more random it would seem to the man. And it was anything but coincidence that Ada firmly believed in this rule. After all, it had happened once before and the man had never questioned his role. This time she decided to stage the whole meeting. She shot at her goal.
"I'm terribly sorry, I mistook you for a zombie," her facial expression, tone of voice, gestures, everything was perfect. Ada was playing the weak, frightened woman, who in her panic had pulled the trigger and shot. "Is everything all right with you? Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm all right," laughed the man as he approached Ada. "Not yet."
With is index finger, the man pressed down on the gun which Ada still had pointed at him.
"Oh, excuse me." Ada put the weapon back. She kept her eyes focused on her holster at all times, to add to the impression that she was completely untrained when it came to handling a weapon.
"My name is Ada Wong," she said and held out her hand.
"And I'm Leon Kennedy. Police Officer with the Raccoon City Police Department," he replied with a firm handshake.
In the distance, screams and explosions were heard.
"That sounds as though there is some work for you to do," Ada said with a modest chuckle.
"What are you looking for here?"
"Do you know a certain Ben Bertolucci?"
"Who's that?"
"I thought you said you were a policeman here?"
"Yes, but today is my first day, you see," said Leon and held out a note.
Congratulations on your inclusion to the Raccoon City Police Department. Do not worry, we are already old hands and will take you under our wing! So, we look forward to you spending some time with us!
Your colleagues at the RCPD.
"Really?" If this man truly was a stranger here, then his use to her might be limited. Ada felt disappointed, but did not let on to the fact.
"Ben Bertolucci is a newspaper reporter who should be imprisoned here. At least, that's what I've heard. I have come here to meet him, but now with all this chaos in the city, I'm not sure what to do."
"Im afraid, because I do..."
"My boyfriend is missing here in this city. And this was over a month ago. This man disappeared without trace, but the police never took up the matter with any real seriousness. They say there was no case for them to investigate. In any case, his trail ends here in Raccoon City. That's why I'm here."
In recent times, many people had disappeared in the vicinity of Raccoon City. Ada knew this and built her lies on it. Leon had asked for a transfer to the RCPD because these bizarre criminal cases {including those that had disappeared without trace} interested him greatly.
"Would you do me a favour and take me to the cells?" Said Ada and Leon looked imploringly back at her. She made a point of taking his arm. A direct physical contact gave the opposite impression from wanting to leave, and it was a sign of confidence.
"Uh...well...that should be all right."
"Yes? This will be a big help to me."
No man was safe from the persuasion of Ada Wong, especially not Leon, whose firm belief was that the men had to act as a protector of women and children.
"In there, it will be full of zombies. You should prepare yourself for that."
Ada nodded.
"Let's go."
"Thanks, Leon." Ada moved closer to Leon, still holding his arm. The young policeman was about to take some bold steps forward...


"I was born during the Vietnam war in the Cholon district of Saigon, shortly before the city fell to the Viet-cong. I was the only daughter of a very wealthy overseas Chinese family. For generations, they were landowners who owned huge estates and fruit orchards."
"Do you still live in Vietnam?"
"No," Ada shook her head sadly. "1976, North and South Vietnam united."
"I know that, too." Leon said. "A bad time. The soldiers who had risked their lives in the war. Came home, and no one thanked them."
"The war was a great misfortune. War itself is a great misfortune," said Ada, even though she disagreed and lowered her sad eyes. The misfortune of others interested her not one bit. Naturally it did not correspond to the truth that the war led the first circles of overseas Chinese to originate in Vietnam. Not to mention the name; ‘Ada Wong' and several other names. Ada chattered on about her childhood.
"The association was established in South Vietnam, a socialist model of society. The wealthy overseas Chinese have been objects of hatred. The government took control of trade and forbade private enterprise in principle. Finally, there were even rumours that the government wanted to seize all assets. These rumours spread among the Chinese in South Vietnam like wildfire. This provoked a massive uproar from the Chinese in Vietnam."
That much was true, but it had nothing to do with Ada or her family in the slightest. She had said it with downcast eyes, as if she did not want to remember those hard times.
"I was just three years old then."
"That must have been terrible." Leon did not doubt Ada in what she told him. He was a bright man, but weak-looking women brought out his protective instincts. Leon believed that all women needed protection under any circumstances. He was rather old fashioned in that regard.
Ada went on and even managed to channel some tears;
"They cheated us."
"My whole family fled to the United States. The settlement we left to a man who specialised in smuggling operations, we did not know this at the time. It was he who said we needed only to relocate to America where he had bought some farmland and was hiring employees. So we trusted all our possessions to this man. But everything he said was a lie."
It was time for Ada to come to the crowning moment.
"This man had tricked us out of our entire fortune!"
"We arrived in America without a cent."
"That's terrible. I'm sorry..."
Ada knew that anger was now flaring up in Leon's heart. Had the man who had allegedly cheated her been here, she was of no doubt that Leon would not hesitate to beat him. Ada could not remember having met a stranger who was so gullible.
"If there's anything I can do for you, tell me. I want to help you."
It had gone well for Ada, almost too well and for a moment she actually thought it was Leon leading her up the garden path. But the outrage that had taken in view of her childhood memories on his face could not be faked. Even for a professional liar like Ada that would not have gone down so well. Leon pulled out his gun.
"Let's go inside," he said softly and opened the door to the interior of the cells. As if they were awaiting fresh fodder, the zombies were restless and immediately advanced towards Leon and Ada with outstretched arms. Leon neutralised one monster after another. He was standing with his legs slightly apart and knees bent in the so-called crouch position. With both hands he held the handle of his pistol, and extended his right arm to a straight line with the barrel of the gun. His handling of the weapon was textbook.
Ada was hidden behind Leon, so it looked like she needed to take cover behind him. But there were definitely a lot of zombies, so it was necessary that Ada put some down with punches, kicks and even gunshots to defend herself with. She forgot, however, to let out a soft cry with each shot. The zombies were easy targets for Ada, but it was hard work making sure Leon did not recognise this fact.
After a while, they reached the cell block. Only one man was sat there.
"Ben Bertolucci, I presume?" Said Ada.
"Yes, I am." Ben stared at Ada with bloodshot eyes. "And who are you? And the cop there? I've never seen you before?"
"I'm Leon. Today is my first day here. I overslept and arrived to this mess."
"Then you should have stayed in bed." Said Ben, smiling sadly.
"Be quiet. This is Ada, a woman looking for a friend, he disappeared without trace in Raccoon City."
"Today, thousands of people disappeared in a single day."
"Do you know him by any chance?" Ada stretched out a photo to Ben. It showed a smiling young man. Ada had randomly picked up the photo from some table, and the man depicted on it certainly had nothing to do with her. Ben shook his head.
"Then he may have fled from the city," continued Ada. "Do you know how to escape from this town?"
"I know. But forget it."
"Why?" Asked Leon.
"Because there is a man here, a giant, who..."
"What are you talking about?" Asked Ada.
"You have not yet met him?"
"You mean the zombies? Of course I have seen so many that I..."
Ben cut Ada off.
"No, this thing is no zombie. But you will find out once he catches you. He will destroy you." Ben made a gesture as if he was crushing something in the air with both hands.
"Then let's leave together. If you stay here, you will be killed sooner or later."
"Behind bars I am safe. At least when the zombies come here they will not get in. At some point the army will come and I'll be rescued. Until then, I'll just have to wait."
Leon picked up the carelessly discarded key and set out to unlock the cell door.
"Hey, leave it. Stop it!" Ben shook the bars angrily and it made a deafening noise.
"All right, all right. We can't force you to escape with us, but if you know an escape route you can at least tell us," said Leon.
"Give me something to write."
Ada took a paper and pen from the table and handed them to Ben, who drew a simple map on the back.
"The sewerage system. Through here it is possible to escape the city."
Ben returned the paper to Ada, who added, "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"
Ben waved her away without a word, and waved violently with his hands as if to shoo off a pushy dog.


Composure in extreme circumstances was the key to success, but Ada lacked this as she rummaged through the bowels of the underground labs of the Umbrella Corporation. How had it come down to this? She did not understand it exactly. Their mission was solely and purely to get the G-Virus into their hands. Once that was done, this city could rot in hell. And they had certainly had some good opportunities to acquire the virus.
For instance, when she came across Sherry Birkin, the only daughter of William Birkin. Presumably, the little girl had mistaken Ada for a zombie and had ran away. Ada had not escaped the fact that Sherry had bore a medallion on a chain around her neck. No doubt the G-Virus was hidden inside.
Had Ada wanted to, she could have snatched the medallion from Sherry, it would certainly have been possible. But she had not done. And there had been other promising opportunities to get the virus. Ada had to think hard now, and she did not really understand why these thoughts depressed her. Perhaps it was down to her moody nature. The fact was, however, that the danger grew every minute they remained in the city. Ada was not like the other agents who would senselessly put their lives at risk. But something was different this time.
Finally, Ada had entered the underground laboratory of Raccoon City. There she met Annette Birkin, William's wife.
"All that are behind the G-Virus, die!" Claimed Annette and announced with some pride about the terrible weapon her husband had created. "The T-Virus only spawned wayward zombies, but the G-Virus is something completely different. William is an outstanding scientist, he is a genius. He was so obsessed with his research, he even injected it into his own body!" Apparently the madness had already begun to take hold of Annette. The wife of the famed researcher continued her strange rant. "The effect of G caused William to lose all reason as a human fully. He has become G itself. But you will not find out anything more off me. Goodbye, spy!"
Annette had turned a gun on Ada, but too an experienced agent like her, this was a very careless move. Ada stole her weapon without any trouble, and in the unsuccessful attempt to oppose Ada, Annette toppled over the railing and plunged into the depths below.
"Have a good flight!" Cried Ada, waving behind her.
There it was again, the old Ada Wong.
For example, when they had attacked the mutated Birkin Tyrant and injured it, Leon had developed sympathy for the woman who he had discovered in the parking garage of the police headquarters and had taken her into his care. And in view of his selflessness, Ada became a little tame, which was wrong in itself. Finally, she turned to what she always did when she wanted to put a man into submission. The only problem was that this time she did not feel entirely guilt free.
At her last job, Ada had met a certain man by the name of John. He was the chief scientist at the Arklay Laboratories and she began an affair with him to obtain a series of secret information. This type of trechery had been done many times before by Ada. To lead a man behind the light, was an exercise for beginners.
John had been both incredibly stupid and incredibly good-natured. Right up until the moment when he became infected with the T-Virus, died, and mutated into a monster, he had nothing but Ada in his mind. Up until that point she had never experienced a man so selflessly expending for her. John had loved her without any ulterior motives and with all his heart.
Ada again had fulfilled her mission with a certain professional pride that she could decieve him so easily. But nevertheless, perhaps the circumstances of the job, which should have been solely dealing with the acquisition of attaining the secret information, quietly gnawed at her heart a little?
Was it possible that the continuous betrayal and the many murders had resulted in her heart becoming permanently damaged? Just like crystals collected on the bottom of a wine bottle that was long untouched. The word 'repentance' had never had a place in Ada's life dictionary. She had always led a life full of betrayal and intrigue, and she had always survived. After that she was proud, and regretted nothing, yet now and again she was overcome with an unbearable sadness that would materialize out of the blue. She had felt like this once more when Leon had thrown himself protectively in front of her to intercept the bullet, which had been meant for her, with his body. But Ada was tough, and she knew that these moments would not get in the way of her work. She was clueless in some repects that she could regard love as something holy. And yet...
In the underground laboratory a siren wailed and warned of the impending self-destruction. Leon, who carried the G-Virus with him, looked for an escape route from the laboratory. From the concourse he ran from one part of the plant to the next. And Ada lay in wait to snatch the G-Virus sample.
"I've been expecting you Leon," she said, and levelled her gun at him.
"What's going on?"
Leon seemed embarassed. It was the face of a hurt man, and that tormented her.
Yes, it is true, thought Ada. I like Leon. This realisation hit her suddenly, and Leon could see it in her face. All this caused in Ada in this respect, was a hint of a smile.
She spoke;
"I've been waiting, Leon. Hand over the G-Virus."
"What? This cannot be happening?" Leon looked puzzled.
She was fond of him. It was like the dubious pleasure one felt when you showed a little meanness to a small child. Or the game where a cat teases you with a spike of foxtail grass. The more you loved the other, the more joy one was prepared to get from such things.
"I told you to leave me behind. And I meant it. Children who do not listen will make their mother angry. So hand it over, or I shoot."
"Just try it," said Leon and he began to approach her.
Ada had assumed that if she did have to shoot him, it would not be necessary to kill him. A shot in the arm or the leg would be enough to relieve him of the G-Virus. Yet she could not bring herself to do it.
Previously, Ada would not have hesitated for one second in shooting Leon, but now after everything they had been through together she lacked the necessary composure. Immediately afterwards, she felt her back come under fire. The long thought dead Annette had mobilised her last reserve and after she had fired the shot, Ada fell on the spot.
The shot threw Ada towards the railing beside her. The railing was low. Before she could stop herself, she dropped and lost her balance. Leon jumped to her aid and held out his hand towards Ada. It was an act of desperation. Leon got home of Ada's forearm. The view down showed that the floor of the basement must have been dozens of feet below them. Not even the light reached the bottom.
"Leon," said Ada, looking up at him. Leon had grabbed the railing with one hand, from which he was leaning out as far as he could, and with his other hand he held Ada's wrist. The policeman felt her slipping away.
"It's okay. Let me die."
"Shut up! I'll pull you up!" Said Leon, but he himself had half his body now hanging over the railing. From this position, it would have been virtually impossible for him to pull her up.
"It's over! You know this yourself."
"Be quiet!"
Millimeter by millimeter Ada slipped from Leon's hand.
"I promised you that we would escape together, Ada. We're getting out of here together!"
"Leon...with you I would have run away with you..." she whispered and looked at him with a smile.
"But why..."
Ada had let go of Leon's hand. He tried desperately to grab Ada's finger. But she had slipped away from him and plunged into the depths. Leon's desperate cry resounded around the stairway.
Still falling, Ada threw out a hook that got caught in a railing a few floors below. The hook unreeled a wire, which was connected to Ada's belt. There was a sharp jolt when the rope caught and a sharp pain went through her wounded shoulder. Ada gritted her teeth and swung like a pendulum until she finally reached the railing and flipped over onto the floor.
"That was fun, Leon!" Cried Ada and sent the greeting back up from where she had fallen. Then she jumped for the stairs and headed towards her next destination.


Ada ran through the underground channels. Her body was covered with wounds and her steps were increasingly unsecure, due to the high loss of blood she had suffered. She had still not fully managed to control the bleeding. At the entrance to the sewerage system she had desposited several prior weapons. As an intruder, it had been necessary to secure an escape route. and she had dumped some first aid kits and ammunition in a locker in the subway station. Once Ada managed to get up there, she would figure out the rest. Every time the wind kicked up the stuffy, humid air, a nauseating stench began to spread. The sewers was not exactly the ideal place for a round of jogging with open wounds. Her tottering steps yielded Ada in a race with the sewer rats.
She grinned. How easy it was not be overwhelmed, and she'd make it. A conceivably unfavourable environment and herself in a pitful state. She'd had these types of experiences before, and made it through often enough. She remembered how she had once smuggled herself with a group of migrant workers who were harvesting sweet potatoes. They were carted off in a rickerty truck on a farm, where they were staying in a dilapidated pig sty and had to fill baskets of potatoes throughout the day, which the tractor in front of them dug up from the ground. When she got home from work she was so badly exhausted she could barely stand up. She had also been commissioned to spread pesticides.
Ada saw two men in this work every day, more or less having to bathe in these pesticides as they were working and brought severe poisoning upon themselves. The owner of the farm had no health insurance for these men. He didn't give a damn about them. These poor bastards got huge sores on their heads and groin, had been hit by nausea and dizziness until they writhed and twisted and finally died. Those that died did not even get a half-decent burial, and were buried by their colleagues in the woods with their bare hands.
Ada had seen all of the suffering of this world, and therefore it did not seem to her particularly hard to have to run in such a wounded condition through the pipes and drains. In addition, even though she thought in such a way, she could do nevertheless do nothing against the fact that her injuries left her slow and that the fatigue and exhaustion were becoming stronger. She had to get out as quickly as possible here - and not just because of the filth. The sewers were a haven for monsters.
Especially a biogenetic weapon named Hunter, enourmous frog creatures reinforced with razor sharp claws. Ada saw more and more. Fortunately, she had a rich arsenal of weapons available, threw hand-grenades in vast quantities, and railed a hail of bullets from her machine gun at the Hunter. However, this was only possible if as long as she kept enough distance between her and the monster frogs. Unfortunately, the Hunter possessed the most alarming leap strength, which they used to bridge the distance to Ada in no time. Under normal circumstances it would have been easy for Ada to withstand the first wave of attacks and then attack herself at the same time, but now she was no longer able to muster the energy.
One decision made a split second late and the claws of a Hunter would rip into Ada. Added to the problem was that her bullets would do little against the hard scales of the monsters. If the enemy was standing directly infront of her, a salvo from the machine gun would not be enough to stop the Hunter. Again and again, Ada suffered small wounds in the arms and legs at the hands of these giant frogs. Although thre wounds were not life-threatening, they were so deep that the agent continuously lost more blood. With some disinfectant and a simple medical kit, such injuries were not a serious problem, but they were too deep to leave them simply uncared for. Ada lost more and more blood, and her life force continued to drain. The fatigue made things increasingly harder.
She had to get a first-aid kit. Then she had to reach the Apple Inn, where her contact was waiting for her. There she would be able to recover somewhat from the exertion. An unmeasurable number of monsters seemed to have seized the sewers. Finally, Ada's generously overcharged ammunition began to slowly run out. Ada climbed an iron ladder. Finally, she had reached the subway station.
The agent disinfected her wounds and smeared it with antibiotic ointment. Then she sewed up her wounds and put on larger bandages. She almost looked like a mummy, but there was probably no one left alive in the city to take any notice of her appearance. Finally, Ada took another pain killer before she stepped out of the subway station.
An ominous croaking sound was heard. Crows. When Ada looked up, she saw dozens of black feathered birds circling above her. With a rifle it would be quite possible to hit them at this distance, and if she were in full possession of her senses, Ada would have tried that. After two or three shots the rest of the swarm probably would have fled, assuming they were common crows, but it was not possible for her to tell. So she grabbed her shotgun and ran as fast as she could in the direction of the Apple Inn. At the same moment the swarm of crows turned on her. She turned round and fired at the crows above her. The flock scattered but the crows did not flee. Ordinary crows reacted very sensitively to loud noises.
A swarm that had just been shot at, would never try to attack again, but seek immediate salvation in flight. But this great black swarm did not even think to try and escape. Ada ejected an empty shell and fired again. The crows that had escaped her shots, tried to beat their claws into Ada's neck. Ada brandished her knife and and in a circular motion through the air, tore at the wings of the birds that came too close. The sign for the Apple Inn hotel was now in sight. Ada ran and ran and ran, but her steps were more difficult and uncertain. It was as if someone had grabbed her by the ankles and was trying to detain her. The painkillers had helped somewhat, but her blood loss and exhaustion she could not get rid of.
Ada's desire waned. Why did she not simply fall on the spot? Just forget everything, lie down and sleep, she thought. By biting her lip and focusing on the pain, she tried to fight against this deceitful temptation. And she ran, ran on and on. She could not stand still under any circumstances. As long as she kept moving, she came closer to her goal. Ada finally reached the hotel.
The Apple Inn was a business hotel which had evidently seen better days. Ada pushed through the glass door and rushed into the lobby. The crows went off with breakneck nose dives against the glass door. Ada crossed the bloodstained reception as fast as possible and headed for the stairs. In the background she could hear the shards of glass cracking. Was it possible for them to break through? thought Ada. She stepped into an elevator, a corpse lay on the floor. She put a bullet in his head before he could straighten up. When the elevator finally reached the desired floor, the door opened with a loud squealing on the quiet landing. Ada made sure the air along there was clean, before she made through the hallway towards the appointed room. Once there, she laid her hand on the doorknob. The door opened easily.
The cheaply furnished room was filled with the stench of death. But then again this stink was everywhere in the city. In here the source of the unpleasant ordour was face down under the desk. This guy was probably still alive only a few hours ago. For several months now he had been acting under Wesker's orders as a clerk at the Umbrella Corporation, as a spy, so to speak. However, with Umbrella he played only the role of an ordinary employee; not a position in which you would normally come into contact with company trade secrets. But it was not his job to ferret out any secrets. Nine-tenths of his life were devoted to a sad-existence as an employee of the Umbrella Corporation.
He had come as a spy to Raccoon City with his wife and daughter to Raccoon City and assumed the greyness of everyday life to live as an average employee. The commission that Wesker had charged him with was not very demanding. Any mail that arrived at his home had to be passed on to a specific person in the company and communicate with another person about specific things he was briefed in advance about over the telephone. This was basically his task. The most exciting job which he had been entrusted with was to steal some documents from the safety deposit box of a superior. He had found that quite exciting, as it made him feel like a genuine spy. He was proud of himself, so much so, that it didn't take much before he blurted out to his family about it.
Also, his last order should not have been so complicated. He had to pick up a transmitter he recieved in the mail and bring it to this hotel and deliver it to another agent. That was all. Last night, when he had been informed of his task, he never would have thought that today would have ended up like this. Early in the morning, he phoned the company and wanted to report in sick due to a cold. But even though he kept calling back, he just could not get through. He got up, got dressed, sat in the living room and waited and waited. But there was no breakfast. Because at that time his daughter had already had breakfast and that breakfast had consisted of his wife. It was a miracle she had not driven him mad. He fled as he saw his daughter had become a cannibal.
In the city, hell had raged, and he assumed that the Umbrella Corporation was not entirely innocent. Although he was aware of the existence of the T-Virus {if only so much that the company was secretly researching a virus}, but he had no idea what a catastrophic effect it would have. Rumors had said that it was able to bring the dead back to life, but he had given them no credence. He would never have thought that this virus could turn the earth into such hell.
On the way to the hotel he had seen terrible things, and a nauseating stench hung over the city. The fact that he knew the creatures that were attacking him again and again, were actually already dead, he could not bring himself to kill her. So he had fled before them, until he finally managed to escape into the Apple Inn. In his room he started his work and set up the monitor and the transmitter. His job was almost done. Then he had to wait for his contact man.
In such situations, it is never good to have too much time to have to think about these things. His daughter had just eaten his wife! Greedy, like a hungry hyena, she had repeatedly rammed her head into into the body of her mother. As much as he tried to supress his memory, this terrible scene played over in his head like a movie. He could stand it no more and cried incessantly, until he became quite hoarse, and his tears had dried up. Then he stared dully at the ceiling. The cruelty of reality had crushed him. From his pocket he took out a bottle that was filled with sleeping pills, which his doctor had prescribed for him. he poured the entire contents with a swing into his mouth and gulped down the tablets.
After a while a severe nausea came over him and he vomited up the tablets into the toilet. He was so miserable that he began to cry. He felt for his pistol in his pocket like it was his talisman. He looked at the weapon yet he hadn't even wanted to use it on the zombies outside, and looked at it remotely. Bathed in sweat, his thoughts raced two and fro for a while. Then he made a decision and pulled the trigger.
Two hours later, Ada appeared. When she saw her contact dead, she smacked her tongue in frustration.
"What a loser."
On the table was the monitor and the transmitter. The screen lit up straight, and on it appeared the ruthless face of a familiar man in sunglasses.
"He was in dispair at the situation and chose death. A weak man."
"I cannot stand weak men."
"Yes, I know. But you are weak, Ada. You have disappointed me. The betrayal that you have committed to this...Leon. You have done considerable damage to our organisation."
"Disappointed, why?" Ada took out a box with ampoules and she held it in front of the monitor. "You see?" Ada waved the box back and forth. "These are pieces of tissue from Birkin-G."
"You have fulfilled your mission?"
"That was what you wanted, right? Why can you not hear the bluff and just say what you want?"
Wesker did not flinch.
"Unfortunately this is not too valuable to me for I can acquire it through other means. But I want to reveal something; In the near future Raccoon City will be hit by a strategic nuclear weapon to raise the city to the ground."
"Never...Even the Umbrella Corporation would never do something like..."
"I speak the truth."
"And now do I have to beg for my life or what?"
"You have indeed made a mistake, but you have such talent. It would be a shame."
"Thank you. This is already the second time you have told me this."
Some time ago, Ada had infiltrated a criminal organization in America, which was developed and led by Chinese. Soon after her admission she had drawn attention to herself and quickly gained the favour of the supreme boss. Then, of course, she had the envy and jelousy of her 'sisters' in the organisation. Ada's rise came at a time when the organisation experienced a remarkable boom. They soon grew from a small band who hardly anyone knew to one of the leading groups of Chinese underworld organisations in America. The rise of the group had occured so rapidly that even the US Government caught wind of it for the way they dealt so harshly with the competition. Finally, Ada's organisation was crushed by the FBI in a pincer movement but by this time Ada was already looking to distance hersef from the group.
Shortly thereafter, Wesker had come into her life. He stood in connection with a company that was in opposition with the Umbrella Corporation, and was on the look out for top-quality agents. After he had made several detailed enquiries about Ada, he had come to the conclusion that she would be an ideal placement for the job.
"I could also now just easily deliver you to the FBI, but that would be such a waste for your talents." That was the phrase Wesker had used on her back then.
"And in your opinion, Wesker, what should I do?" She repeated the same question she had asked him at the time.
"I'm going to provide you exactly with the information available that you deserve. The management of the Umbrella Corporation will fly by helicopter from this city. If you miss this opportunity, there will be no escape for you."
In addition to the transmitter a small case opened up. Inside was a strngly shaped weapon with a gas canister so that one could shoot a rope with a grapple hook at the end, a very unusual weapon. On the edge of the monitor, a card was shown, on which a point was marked with a red arrow.
"Don't forget the tissues of G will you, they are more important to me than you. Good luck."
The transmitter turned off.
"If the T-Virus can cause such hell, then what does Wesker plan to do with the G-Virus?" Ada murmured to herself.
No matter how awful this hell had become, Ada was determined to survive. This whole planet was somehow becoming hell it seemed. Wesker cared for only that which he could take advantage of. It was typical of Wesker, once people could no longer be useful to him, he just let them go. Ada understood this very well, she probably was still of some value to him.
She left the hotel.


By now the city had prevailed into something out of a horror movie. The dead were celebrating a ghastly banquet. Over time, the screams and gunshots had lessened. But at the same time, the number of zombies who had been enjoying their gruesome meals on the streets, had increased significantly. Lots of major fires had broken out in several different places and had been ignored by anyone left alive and left to spread unchecked. It was an apocalypse, the worst nightmare of the end of the world. And running through this town where everyone had let go of all hope, was Ada, her body now almost entirely wrapped in bandages. The more cumbersome trotting zombies were dispatched by her, one after the other. When she was stuck in a dead end and got into trouble, she jumped without hesitation into an emergency exit into the interior of a building. Unfortunately, Ada had walked into a hotbed of Lickers.
The Lickers were nightmarish creatures with bared muscle strands and exposed brains. They looked as if someone had removed the skin from them and blown their skull off. These monsters, with their long tongues, now went up to Ada. They were everywhere, stuck to the ceiling, and crawling along the walls. But Ada was not deceived by their sophisticated movements and riddled them with her machine gun. When several of them got too close together, she resorted to hand grenades. She eventually fought her way up to the roof of the building. There, however, she ran into an old acquaintance: the crows. However, these crows were not part of the large swarm that had chased her into the Apple Inn. Ada lifted her gun and took them out accurately one at a time.
"Do me a favour and leave me alone, I damn well do," she murmured as she killed the last of the birds. Then she hurried off to the corner of the roof and fired the rope with the hook from there. Her goal was the fire escape of the adjacent building which easily took a hold of the hook. Ada went to the edge of the roof and pushed away. At the same time, the strong wind took hold of the rope and Ada almost slammed into the wall of the building, but she managed to grab the railing of the fire escape and pull herself up. She ran up the stairs until she reached the roof of the building and swung with her rope to the next building and then the next, and the next - just like a superhero from an American comic.
She moved closer towards her destination and the time, she could not afford to miss, moved inexorably closer. It was the moment that would mean life or death for Ada. Everything now lay in her own hands. And feet. An incrediable surge of feeling alive overwhelmed her. Despite her injuries, rarely had she felt better and more alive. Zombies and monsters were turned into mincemeat before her as she struggled forward. The moment when she had just shot her grapple hook into a road bridge overlooking the highway, it happened.
A loud roar rose up behind her. This voice, she wanted to hear the least. It awoke her memories, to which they attached no special value, memories she wanted to forget. Ada turned around. There it stood, the flagship model from the arsenal of humanoid biogenetic weapons created by the Umbrella Corporation. Its official name was 'Tyrant R'.
Persistently, the Tyrant had followed Ada from the research plant up until this point. Thanks to its amazing healing powers, it was in a position to recover its injuries and the destruction of its own body in no time at all. While it was following Ada, it skin had formed into a hardened shell reminicent of oyster shells. This armour was not only as hard as steel and could shred an opponent down in seconds. Its arms were swollen even in relation to its giant body and from the overly long fingers sprung razor sharp claws. The upper body was like a grotequely shaped tortoise, a creature that was a freak of nature or sprung up by the gods on a whim. And this monster now ran with breathtaking speed towards Ada. The Tyrant had shown that it was not as clumsy and cumbersome as it had appeared at first glance. It kept straight for her and attacked immediately with its big claws from left to right. Ada jerked back as the claws narrowly whistled past her. At the same time the agent fired a volley from her MP at the monster. The carapace of the monster splintered, and the Tyrant staggered. However, its movements were of the most astonishing speed, and yet these impressive movements were little more than primitive behaviour patterns. Ada felt the claws of the Tyrant more than once, but she had analyzed the movements of the monster and she knew how it worked.
"You need more than just brute force to get with a woman, kid."
Ada moved herself to repel the attacks of the Tyrant with her MP and attacked it with grenades as soon as it withdrew itself. Soon she was able to block its attacks completely, and her own attacks were becoming increasingly effective. The relentless grenade impacts could not pass into the body of even the toughest animal without leaving some damage. The armour of the Tyrant burst, tore its skin, and scraps of burnt flesh and blood splattered around. The monster seemed to gradually lose its agaility and its reaction speed was decreasing rapidly. Ada was now able to easy follow the actions of the Tyrant with her eyes . The bullets from her machine gun pierced the exact places where its skin had been torn open. After a dozen shells had exploded inside its body, the monster finally fell to the ground and remained motionless.
She should have given the Tyrant the death blow while it was down, but she did not have the time. Ada had but one chance to escape Raccoon City, and that moment would come the moment the helicopter would appear in the sky above her. A new horde of undead began to gather, probably attracted by the scent of flesh, living flesh. Ada knew that she could not defend herself too loudly otherwise she would be be too noticeable and the helicopter may spot her and she may not be blind to them trying to join as an extra passenger out of the city. With a pistol in each hand, she killed the zombies one by one by targeting shots to the head. For the time being, Ada was dealing with only ordinary zombies. Bio-genetic weapons on the other hand, would be a bit more tricky with just a pistol. Weapons with a high destructive power, such as grenades - were taboo for Ada at the moment.
In the distance she saw a Hunter, who ran in their direction. In order not to be disturbed, Ada jumped onto the roof of a truck, standing by the roadside. And then it came: a military helicopter that flew with a fairly low speed, and carried a large container underneath which must have been acting as a burden. When she could reach the hook, she coukld finally escape from Raccoon City. While the agent continued to fire at the zombies with one hand, she laid the other on the helicopter and took aim. The Hunter was approaching fast. If she started a fight with him, she would miss the opportunity to hang onto the helicopter. She just had to be faster.
"Come on, come on, already," Ada prayed silently, waiting for the right moment. "Now!"
She squeezed the trigger. With a muffled snap the hook shot up, the rope dragging behind it. The helicopter was now just above her. The hook hit the container and was perfect. Ada ran. She could already feel the Hunter breathing down her neck. The rope stretched. Two or three steps and she jumped, her toes broke away from the roof of the truck. At the same moment the Hunter attacked her. Its razor-sharp claws chased after Ada's ankles, but they missed by a whisker. Instead, it just held one of her shoes in its claws.
"If you like it, I will give it to you!"
Ada was inspired by the wind, pulled up and climbed onto the roof of the container, where she could look inside thanks to a small hole. In the light of her small flashlight she saw the logo of the Umbrella Corporation and the words 'UMF-013." It was a computer, and one of the type Red Queen, as used in the Umbrella lab. Ada had no idea who the crew of the helicopter were transaporting it, but it looked as though it was going to be a long journey.
Ada's mission was complete. Wesker had done her a favour, and in doing so they assumed good intentions, even though she knew he was totally indifferent to what would become of her. It seemed likely that her relationship with Wesker would continue for a while. Relations are at their easiest when ultimately you are clearly deceiving each other right from the beginning, thought Ada, smiling quietly to herself.


Directly above Ada, inside the helicopter, someone was smiling happily.
"Do you take me for a go-getter," asked Sergei Vladimir, as he fiddled with a curiously shaped knife.
"How could I expect a man who has just stolen the central computer from his own company to be reasonable?" Said the old man who sat directly opposite him.
Sergei laughed out loud which sounded almost like a cough.
"The people who are later regarded as heroes later have never acted reasonably."
"Are you saying you are to be a hero?"
"In any case, the word applies more to me than to Lenin."
"There is certainly no lack of self-confidence in you..."
"I just know what I can. I have the U.M.F-103 in storage. On its drives all the information about Umbrella's T-Virus research are saved. So in some ways I suppose you could say I had Umbrella in storage. Using the computer, I can resurrect Umbrella at anytime and anywhere," said Sergei and let out his cough-like laugh once more. Outside the missile raged at high speed towards the city. It was the pale horse, which would being the final death to Raccoon City.




Elroy laughed nervously when he saw the logo of the Umbrella Corporation on the toilet seat. Not even in here, were you left alone from this company. He lifted the lid and sat down on the toilet seat. It was the forth time that morning he was sitting here. Elroy had either spoiled his stomach or was suffering from nervous diarrhea. He knew himself only too well. Even as a child he had often suffered from abdominal pain often brought on by stressful situations. He had hoped this was something that would stop as he entered into adulthood, or at least improve, but nothing had changed. He was still a nervous coward. Yes, there was one man who who had made him feel like a frightened rabbit. Want to spend your entire life being the faithful lapdog for the Umbrella Corporation? Are you really so afraid of them? And he was. And the fear grew when he learned the inner proceedures of the company. But Elroy did not have the courage to admit it openly and honestly, therefore he had accepted the job offer of this man. And that is what had him suffering from diarrhea once again this morning. Elroy flushed the toilet and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he fished a small metal box from his pocket and opened it. Inside the box was a small syringe which was filled with a shimmering light green liquid. Elroy rolled up his sleeve and jabbed the needle with a practiced hand movement into his upper arm. A brief stabbing pain made him grimace, then he pushed down the plunger. The malicious fluid was soon lost in the insides of his body. After the whole contents were injected, he placed the syringe back into the small metal box and left the toilet.

Sterile corridors, disinfected stairways, disinfected grounds. Everything here seemed sterile and was illuminated by white light. Perhaps here even one's own heart had been sterilized. Any feelings of opposition to the corporation, any unnatural desire to advance one's career, each longing to join another company; all of those feelings were removed as if they were throughly boiled and wiped down with alcohol.

Elroy felt a slight dizziness, his steps were uncertain.

"Everything okay?" A colleague had grabbed him by the hand and was leaning on his arm, it was a young researcher who had been moved to the Russian Branch of the company the same time as he was.

"Yes, thank you. Go away already."

"You look pale, Elroy."

"Yes, I've got something wrong with my stomach..."

"Are you sure that's all?" The woman asked suspiciously.

No wonder. In this facility all different types of hazardous micro-organisms were grown. Whenever someone was not feeling well, it was all to obvious to think of the possibility of an acident involving a potential biohazard.

"Yes, that's all," Elroy assured her with a smile. "I probably ate something bad yesterday."

"Maybe you should just get married soon," laughed the woman.

"Yes, you're probably right." Elroy made a strained smile and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"In any case, you should go to the infirmary."

"I will. Later I will go there. First, there is something urgent I need to do."

Elroy was not lying. There was actually something he needed to attend to urgently. I am not his lapdog. I am of the Umbrella Corporation. He tried to sound strong, and his stomach growled in protest like a small dog.

Elroy waited until the woman was out of sight before he dug out his ID card and turned down a side corridor. Without being aware of it himself, he had quickened his pace. At the end of the hallway, he swiped his card through a card reader and opened the door. The area which he now entered contained a large number of containers for the cultivation of micro-organisms. The containers were all neatly lined up and each one was secured with locks. Elroy took out a small pair of pliers, broke the seal on one of the containers and pulled out a capsule the size of a hen's egg, which he carefully placed into his pocket. In a few minutes they would know who had done what. For in all possible corners of the building surveillance cameras had been installed which were connected directly to the Red Queen and all employees were constantly monitored. Elroy did not worry about this as he would soon by flying away. That was part of his plan. Because in a few minutes he will already have left the building. But even this comforting thought could not shed his nervousness. He left the room and took a deep breath.

Everything is in order, he said to himself. I have just injected the antidote to this virus, so I won't be infected by this early variant of the T-Virus.

Elroy hurled the capsule to the ground.

"All right", he muttered to himself. "All right." He walked towards the exit of the lab and threw a quick glance at his watch. Twenty seconds. Fifteen seconds. Ten. Five. Four, three, two, one...The alarm bells began to shrill.

"Accident involving bio-hazadous material. Infectious material is spreading.!" A computerised voice announced over the loud speaker system.

Everything is going according to plan. Stay calm. I have time.

Elroy ran through the corridors. The more he went the faster he moved. The gate, which would foreclose any disaster hazard area, was already closing. Elroy increased his pace once more and slipped under it just in time. He had done it. He was outside. Everything was finished.

Nobody can stop me now. I'm going to go home, take my bag and be on my way to the airport. Everything has worked out perfectly. I have nothing more to fear. The other half of my fee will now be paid into my account. Everything will be alright.

With these thoughts running through his head, a relaxed smile appeared on Elroy's face.

It was too bad he had clearly underestimated the man who had hired him. Elroy had strictly obeyed the instructions of his client - Albert Wesker- and managed to escape from the laboratory building. Up to this point everything had gone perfectly according to plan. He was already on site of the chemical factory, which served as a cover for the laboratories, and it was no longer necessary to run. Elroy took off his white lab coat, folded it and pressed it crumpled into a narrow gap between where the helmeted workers ran around. They were like headless chickens. He tried to convey an impression of calm, but again his breathing quickened.

You're all right. Stay calm. Completely calm.

But his breathing became more and more tortured and he began to gasp, and his pulse quicked appreciably. Elroy wondered what was happening to him and winced painfully. The smile froze him into a grimace and suddenly his joints ached and he began to gnash his teeth as every movement he took felt like they were rubbing together. Elroy rapidly shrank as the forces pulled at him. He felt as if there was a gaping hole somewhere in his body through which he lost more and more blood. Finally, an overwhelming sense of helplessness forced him to his knees. Supporting himself with both hands on the floor, he leaned over. Discomfort seemed to inflate his stomach even further and forced him to vomit. Workers hurried to his aid.

"What happened? Are you okay?" They cried to Elroy.

Their voices were muffled and squigly, as if he were hearing them speak underwater. Elroy wanted to say something, but his tongue was swollen, stiff and motionless in his mouth. His vision became noticeably shorter. Then everything went black. He saw nothing more. For heaven's sake. At that moment, Elroy began to think for the first time that he may have become infected by the T-Virus.

But how can that be possible? How can I be infected when I had already administered the anti-dote?

Elroy receieved no answer to this question. His mind fell into a pitch-black abyss. Even in his last breath, it never dawned on him that Albert Wesker had used him and led him into a trap. The remedy that he had injected himself, this fluid, which he had recieved was the colour of the antivirus and somewhat reassuring, however, this was not the antidote to the virus. It was merely a saline solution mixed with food colouring.

Because of the numerous protective and precautionary measures, there was no guarentee that any released virus actually found a way out of the laboratories. Therefore it was necessary for Wesker's vision to ensure that at least one infected person left the lab before it was hermetically sealed off.

Approximately two hours later, Elroy awoke in the infirmary of the factory to a new life. For Wesker, all was going according to plan.


The wind howled, and dancing snowflakes obscured the view. A snowstorm. Two large men, who were dressed from head to toe in animal skins ran over the snow field transformed by the snow into a monotonous white colour. They looked almost like two bears. When the two had left their village, the sky had still been clear and blue. The man on the right rummaged some hay out of a bag and rubbed it with his fingertips. He whispered in a Slavic language;

"Count the tears! Your tears will teach the wicked devils and their accomplices to be afraid!" Then he added with a tone of disgust: "We have no luck, damn it."

"Comerade Schek," said the second man. "The sudden snowstorm does not bode well. This is a bad omen."

"Maybe so, Comerade Igor.

"Then you also believe that evil spirits dwell here?"

"That's what God proclaimed to us all. And it would be a sin to doubt God, Igor."

"Many of our comerades have disappeared in this area. There must probably be something..."

"You are not convinced?"

"I do not doubt God. I doubt those that bring us the voice of God."

"Comerade Igor! We must train ourselves now in unity. Even if the rumour is true that the priest is in cahoots with these guys. If this factory really is a hostile place for us, then we must take prompt remedial action.

The two were members of the 'Worshippers of the Church of the Great Bones.' In the previous century, a religious community whose roots could be traced back to a Buddhist sect that originated from Japan, and was founded in the seclusion of a small village. After repeated divisions, the sect had differenciated over time, elements of the Slavic people made their own faith and thus had become the community that had formed just over ten years ago; the 'Worshippers of the Church of the Great Bones.'

The group had essentially publicised the ideal of living in complete self-sufficiency. To achieve this goal they had chosen this remote place as a base for their own 'utopia'. Real self-sufficiency proved to be the struggle against the adversities of nature and was too hard. But these harsh conditions did not prevent the lure to this religious community as more and more new converts were being attracted to this place. The village was so alive.

About five years ago however, the situation had changed fundamentally. By this point, a former chemical plant, a holdover from the days of the Soviet Union, which was located not far from the village, had been renovated. Officially, it was concerned with geological surveys. Although these events took place in the immediate vicinity of the village, the religious community decided to see what would happen. One assumed it concerned a company, which was concerned with the exploitation of mineral resources and was owned by a section of the government. There were rumours that the Chemical Plant was renovated after the collapse of the Soviet Union due to the hands of a new owner and a large investment of foreign capital. Whether it was a question of domestic government or foreign capital, the whole time nothing was heard from them - until the day when an envoy appeared at the village from the factory. He wanted to recruit workers. The offered salary was exceptionally generous and sparked embittered controversy in the impoverished village community. After many discussions and heated arguments finally they agreed in recruiting half of the male villagers with a job at the factory. Rumours that the priest had been bribed by the factory were not long in coming, but these rumours were based on obvious facts; the priest and his entire family were invited over to the factory on several occassions.

Yet another rumour made in connection with the factory began to hang around. It was said that it was a nest of heretics, who worshipped the evil pagan gods. Apparantly the inhabitants of the village were brought to these heretics and offered as sacrifices to their gods. And indeed, it was often the case that men who went to work in the factory no longer returned back home. The relatives of those who had disappeared had joined forces and visited the factory to demand an explanation, but nothing was proved and the rumours remained. The owners of the factory had remained civil to the villagers and had not taken offence at the accusations. The priest exhorted the villagers against trying something similar a second time.

Nevertheless, it was often the case that men disappeared into the factory and lately over ten people have come forward and spoken of a monster observed in the vicinity of the factory building. The descriptions reminded them strongly of the legendary mythical creature 'Vodyanoy', who was a huge, overgrown creature with a body of half man, half fish.

At the same time, rumours were circulating that another nearby village in the vicinity of the factory had been attacked by 'Almas' - another legendary mythical creature. But since the settlement created bythe religious community had virtually no contact with the outside world, no one had any knowledge of it.

Then, three days ago, all contactw ith the factory stopped suddenly. None of the men who had gone to work that day, came back. Even a group that had formed out of concern for the missing persons, disappeared without trace whilst en route to the factory. So the 'Worshippers of the Church of the Great Bones' had dispatched two men; Shek and Igor. The two had borrowed a camera because they wanted to document all information about what was going on at the factory. 

"Will we not be helping the bad spirits nonetheless?"

"Comerade Igor, why do you think about it? The matter was discussed by all, and was it not the church that has decided that the work in the factory is not to be given up?"

"We cannot stop the others. We did not put all that money before their eyes simply to tell them that they are not there to work!"

Igor looked down and mumbled something. And then he spoke very softly;

"Perhaps that time was a test of our faith."

Then it happened. In the distance they heard a sound; a scream.

"What was that?"

"That was just the wind," said Shek, unconcerned.

"Yes, but..."

"It is the sound of the wind. What else could it have been? Don't tell me it was the cries of monsters..."

The wind drew weaker. Soon thereafter, the view ahead became clearer. And then they saw the creature that came running at them from afar. Igor folded his hands and began to pray aloud according to an ancient formula.

"Holy Virgin, draw the sword of thy father, put on the armour of your ancestors, place on the helmet of your heroes, and bring out your black horse and hurry across the wide fields to our assistance"

With trembling hands, Shek fumbled with the camera and photographed the creature bearing down on them. The monster looked exactly like the rumours had described; it's face was a curious mixture of man and fish, with a huge body that was covered in scales.And the enormous creature had long fingers, at the end of which sharp claws flashed.

Igor's incantations were now increasingly louder, but his complexion grew more pale.

"Holy Virgin, cover me with your veil and protect me from the enemy and before all weapons both iron and steel!

Shek, the camera still quivering in his hands, joined in with Igor's incantations.

"Protect us from wooden weapons, weapons of bone and weapons of steel, we beseech thee aaah...!"

They both let out a scream. This was followed by a single flash, then streaming red blood splashed across the snowly landscape.


Raccoon City had been wiped out - and from all maps as well as the Earth. First, what had happened was declared a nuclear accident to the public, in which a nuclear reactor had hit meltdown. Later, a commission of inquiry published a report that the accident could actually be traced back to a melt in the reactor core. This report, however, was the product of desperate cover-up efforts from Umbrella Corporation, which now saw its very existence threatened. Given the immense scale of the disaster not even Umbrella Corporation could escape responsibility entirely. Finally, the blame for the destruction of Raccoon City was placed upon the company. The share prices fell through the floor, but the people at Umbrella did not give up and continued to fight desperately. Up until the bitter end. They pushed some of the responsibility onto the shoulders of the government and ordered a whole army of well-paid lawyers to withdraw the lawsuit against Umbrella in length. Fortunately for the men of the company, the most crucial evidence; that of the nuclear missile, had gone off track. Umbrella waged a dirty war, and the media uncovered untold atrocities and and violations of the law of the company. The company was made the public whipping boy. Clearly the company had a good rapport with the American government, but the loss of prestige and reputation had led - as always in such cases - to ensure that official policy was that of distancing itself quickly from Umbrella.

Despite this, the Umbrella Corporation was still the largest industrial group in the world. It was probable that Umbrella would arise in a different form reconstructed if just one part of the company was still alive and well. If one were to make the end of Umbrella permanent, then one needed to act now.

Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine, both former members of the special task force unit S.T.A.R.S. of the Raccoon City Police Department, had made their way to Russia. The Russian branch of Umbrella now continued the research of the company.For better or worse it was here that they had been working on the development of new biological weapons, and was not least the basic location of the T-Virus, Chris and Jill had learned of this. In other words, the Umbrella lizard had survived having it's tail bitten off and had fled with the rest to Russia. Several espionage activities were soon to be rendered as to ensure that all those nasty rumours were true. The Russian branch of the Umbrella Corporation had worked effectively in the development of new biogenetic weapons. These developments served as a springboard to expand Umbrella's business activities to the crisis regions throughout the world.

Chris and Jill co-operated with local Anti-Biohazard units in Russia and then got wind of the existence of a 'Factory of Nightmares'. Now they just had to infiltrate this factory unnoticed and put a stop to their activities, at least that's what Jill and her comerades had introduced in such a way.

"One moment," said a giant of a man in combat fatigues. He was the commander of the anti-biohazard unit. It was in the meeting room of the command centre of the unit in Russia. "The Russian government believes that actions against Umbrella's expansion in Russia are required."

The facial expression of the man was so angry that a child would probably have immediately burst into tears at the sight of him. But in contrast to this, his voice and expressions were rather gentle. After all, the commander was a MIT graduate, a true interllectual then. The man continued: "The Russian government has hesitated to set the regular army on Umbrella, but the permission for the use of our special forces should be granted. That's not to say that a permit would be given on the safe side."

"By permit, you mean granted off the record, no official permission?" Chris quipped.

"However," admitted the Captain. "The government does not want to leave any evidence that it has granted the necessary permission."

"Couldn't we just leave without permission?" Asked Chris.

The giant man twisted his face into a grimace. Actually, it was a grin, but it was doubtful anybody recognised it as such.

"This is not the same thing," he said. "Without occuring official permission prior, the government would never tolerate an unofficial military operation. Worst case scenario if that were to occur the US army could consider taking action againt us and turn us into mincemeat.."

Then we need to get permission then, that the government acts as though it is looking away, though in fact it is clear that they see everything?"

"That's it."

"I'm not quite getting this." Said Jill. "We came here just over a week ago because we were told that the plan of operations would be finalized in practice. And now that we are here, we are told that suddenly the permission of the government is still pending and that this permission once it is granted, cannot officially exist." She looked the captain sharply in the face. "I'm sick and tired of the mentality of you civil officials. And I have a nose just as full of your shennanigans behind the scenes.

The man listened in silence.

"For a week we are being put off repeatedly from one day to the next, but I will not wait any longer! As we sit here, work is continuing with Umbrella's insidious plot! You know, like us, what happened to Raccoon City! Do you realise that Russia could be plagued by a disaster that could have far worse consequences than Chernobyl?"

"That would be a problem," replied the man, but he wore an expression that he was not taking Jill's statement particularly seriously.

The attitude of their counterpart only fuelled Jill's anger further. Chris also looked strained sat next to her;

"Look, we have not come to argue with you. We all want the same thing, the fall of the Umbrella Corporation. But we can not wait any longer. You've had nevertheless a year's preparation time before we came here. We've tolerated each other long enough, don't you think?"

The giant nodded slowly.

"All right. But all I can say now is that I can't give you a definitive aswer off the cuff." He glanced at his watch. "Let's say I will give you the final answer within twelve hours."

"Depending on how that response comes, we will go on alone and will still be active. That would certainly have unpleasant consequences for you."

"I refuse to be blackmailed. And I'm sure we will come to a mutually satisfactory solution."

"That is what we expect," said Chris, holding out his hand.

"I am grateful for your good cooperation."

He extended his huge hand to Chris's and they shook.


After Wesker had landed on the hill, the skies had surprisingly cleared. Wesker came to believe that even the weather had become merciful. The snow reflected the sunlight and bathed everything in a whitish light. It was the perfect skyline if you could imagine such a thing, thought Wesker. He looked at the factory across the plane, a research facility of the Umbrella Corporation. The control of power is itself a very great power. This principle was universally valid, of this Wesker was convinced in his heart of hearts. But you could never be seduced by power. Power was not something to be used openly and directly. Rather, mastering the art was to achieve the smallest use of power, with the maximum result. And this knowledge was also power.

It was now five years ago that he had heard that here in the depths of the Russian Cacasus, an old chemical factory had been revived with foreign capital. After the collapse of the Soviet Union it was said that a European aristocratic family had purchased the factory. The background checks turned out not to be very complicated. Umbrella's Russian subsidary scheme therefore built a secret underground facility on the site of the chemical factory. Wesker immediately sent one of his agents in the local area to investigate. Presumably, this factory was something of a last bastion for the Umbrella Corporation. If Wesker could destroy it, then Umbrella would cease to exist. And Wesker had already begun preparations for Umbrella's downfall already. A small accident. The virus was released. Bio-hazard. Biologically hazardous material.

The agent had completed his mission three days ago. The contact with him had already been broken off. This too was part of Wesker's plan. He had learned things that revealed what was happening in the facilities underneath the old chemical factory. Umbrella's downfall was sealed. To ensure the company reached an untimely death, he had secured the help of an old friend whose interests in this case matched his own. We will fight side by side to save the world from this chaos, thought Wesker and he grinned, satisfied.

Though Wesker was standing in a place where you could incur some bad frostbite quickly this time of year, he was dressed strikingly light. But his body was no longer that of a human being. He had overcome the physical limitations of the ordinary people long ago.

Wesker's headset buzzed. He heard the voices of a man and a woman, significantly it was Jill and Chris. He could recognise their voices as he had tapped into the listening devices, which had been installed on the instruction of the Russian government due to the accomodation of the two on the team. Jill's angry voice could be heard.

"I am not willing to wait for permission from the Russian government! I am absolutely sure that this factory is the latest base of the Umbrella Corporation!"

"Yes, I know. This time we will not let them get away. I'm going to nail them. If it requires a reply from the Russians, we will begin the operation, if necessary, on our own."

A low electronic ringing could be heard.

"Yes...yes...understand...We will come immediately to you. Jill, permission has been granted! They will pick us up, and then we will set off at last!"

At this point the transmissions broke. Wesker took a deep breath, turned and looked at the sky.

"Chris, as fate would have it, I cannot leave this simply to you. If you are looking for a decision against me, I will place myself before you. But before that would you settle a little job for me?"

Wesker turned around again. In the distance, beyond the snow level, he identified the chemical plant. There were several chimneys, but where these chimneys had once blazed bright flames, not even a cloud of smoke emitted from them now. Wesker began his approach to the silent factory. Like an athlete, he sprinted across the soft snow. His goal was not the factory itself, but the accessway to an underground passageway nearby.

Wesker stood outside the main entrance, which was closed with an iron gate. With both hands, he gripped the bars. It did not look like he had to expend much energy as he shook the bars two or three times, then the iron bent and the concrete crumbled. The grid was removed with ease. Wesker threw it carelessly aside and entered.

From this corridor he decended into a kind of station which ushered in a web of material into the plant itself. Wesker wanted to avoid meeting Chris and Jill, and deliberately chose a different route. 

After just a few steps, he felt as though he was being watched. He turned around and saw a surveillance camera. Wesker stared into the lens of the camera and could feel not only the stares that came through the camera at him but also who it was that was behind the camera. This kind of perception was quite familiar to him, it was the perception of those infected. Wesker followed the view and penetrated over it into the interior of the beholder. H saw a very strong, but also perverse desire to see malice, hostility and an anticipation of the upcoming battle. This awareness seemed familiar. He participated in his perception, saw with his eyes, heard with his ears. What Wesker saw, was a kind of computer room. Before him multiple monitors were lined up. One on of the screens, Wesker could see himself.

"Awful little rat." The voice was familiar to Wesker. Colonel Sergei Vladimir, a leader of the Umbrella Corporation. "You rotten little rat to sneak inside here."

"Oh, you have only just noticed?" Mocked Wesker.

"Did you think that I would not have this power? Your arrogance is disgusting."

"Then I probably underestimated you."

In the background the voice of the main computer, Red Queen, was heard.

"Level 4 biohazardous contamination is progressing."


"More than 90% of the laboratory staff are dead. The probability of survival in the contaminated atmosphere is two percent."

"Obviously the management of this institution overwhelms you," commented Wesker sardonically.

Sergei snorted. "This base can easily be replaced. After all, I own Red Queen and T.A.L.O.S. I am now Umbrella."

"I see. Then it will be easy for me to destroy Umbrella."

"You are a really funny guy Wesker." Sergei got up, and the camera followed him. He spoke to the camera. "Accelerate the activation of T.A.L.O.S. He must be activated before the arrival of the Russian government.

"Roger. The date for the start of the reactivation has been redefined."

"T.A.L.O.S.?" Said Wesker. "Has thou acquired a nice new toy?"

"You would like to penetrate into it. Unfortunately the T.A.L.O.S. system can only be controlled by the Red Queen. You have no chance of hacking into it yourself. Checkmate."

"I am registering two airborne objects approaching at high speed from the North East," The Red Queen spoke once more.

Segei frowned.

"Trouble on all fronts?" laughed Wesker.

"A little pain can be quite pleasant, Wesker."

"Shall I tell you who it is who is on their way to see you, Sergei."

"No need. I can imagine already. Incidentally, I can hardly wait for my duel with you."

"The honour is mine."

"I hope I will have real fun with you Wesker."

"I doubt that you will have enough time."

"I cannot wait to see you beg for your life."

Suddenly, Wesker disappeared from Sergei's inner consciousness.

"It can't be true that all the biological weapons have been released...I wonder if you can make it all up to me," Sergei muttered, and he sounded genuinely worried.


The snowflakes danced like powder. The snowstorm that had temporarily robbed the view, had subsided. Two transport helicopters raced low over the plains. Immediately after the storm had passed, the helicopters had started. Now they were on their way to an old chemical factory. Chris and Jill were sitting next to the men of a Russian Anti-Biohazard unit. The Russian government had finally granted their permission. While Chris and Jill had still been on the road from the hotel, the two military helicopters had already been prepped and and were present at the base. A few minutes after taking off from the base the Vulcan machine gun on the helicopter suddenly let out a deafening noise. When Chris and Jill looked outside through the cabin window, they saw three Hunters swirling through the snow. The bullets of the machine gun hunted them and the snow splattered several feet up into the air. Then the farthest Hunter was caught and was turned into a mangled lump of flesh within a split-second.

"Looks as if we already have an immediate Biohazard case." Said Chris.

"We've had reports of these for the last few days. That is why we were very interested in a quick solution," the Commander beside him replied.

"I understand. From now on we will fight together against the common enemy."

The Commander nooded vigorously and then shouted in Russian; "All hands, prepare for landing and be careful out there!"

"Aye!" The team replied in unison.

With a whirring noise the cargo hatch of the helicopter opened. The factory was now almost directly below them: lead grey tanks, cross and traverse lines, a bridge with naked, rust-coloured steel pillars and a collection of buildings that looked like the skeleton of a gigantic beast. They had tied belts around their hips for abseiling. For Chris and Jill there was no exception. During exercises for urban warfare, where you had to make a parachute jump or rappel from a helicopter, they had completed well enough. With practiced hands they fastened a carbine to the right side of the roping belt. Then each rope was fasted to a pole, which was mounted above the exit of the helicopter. With these ropes they would slide down to the chemical plant, a technique that was known as speed rappeling.

"We still cannot verfiy the existence of new types of weapons?" Jill asked.

"Not yet. But there is no doubt that their development is fairly advanced," said Chris.

"No problem then, as long as it isn't yet complete," said Jill and she disappeared down.

"That will show itself." Chris growled and followed her.

Like raindrops the soldiers slid down their ropes from the helicopters. Everything happened very quickly. From the intital exit to the first movements on the grounds of the factory, only five or six seconds had elapsed. As the snipers in the helicopters gave cover, the crews of the two machines formed into two groups and stormed off. Russian words flew back and forth, the main military terms Chris and Jill could both recognise. They both spoke Russian well enough so as not to hinder the implementation of the operation.

Immediately after landing, the zombie shuffled forward to satisfy their hunger. Even this place, therefore, had become hell on earth. The snipers in the helicopters opened fire. The special unit members saw their headshots work their way through the prostate bodies of the zombies. The two groups penetrated into the interior of the factory. Once they came to a fork in the road, two soldiers dropped back to take up combat patrol, and took a different route to the rest of the group. Of course they had all memorized the blueprints of the factory, only now was it possible to scan the terrain for gaps. The proceedure, known as Clearing - was always on the same surface. Closed doors were blown open with explosives, once the doors were opened, grenades were thrown into the rooms, and then the rooms were stormed and secured. Throughout the plant between gunshots and explosions was always the cry of "Contact here!" too.

Chris and Jill fought their way forward with the commander of the unit on the main corridor.

"Caution, take cover!"

A hand grenade was thrown, and the operatives ducked into cover. A loud crash was heard and splinters flew through the air.

"Nice fireworks," Jill mumbled. Several zombies had been torn to pieces. No sooner had the group hit the floor when a pack of Hunters approached on them.

"Biological weapons approaching at 12 o'clock! Ready!"

The monsters were armored with hard scales but were soon turned into mincemeat by the group that was under fire. Their claws were harmless, as long as they kept their distance.

"Be careful! Check out your surroundings exactly. 100% attention at all times until the target object is completely eliminated!"

The monsters had disappeared from the main corridor.

"Each individual confirm whether the situation is safe!"

"Okay, Go!"

"Keep battle formations!"

Chris and Jill seperated from the rest of their group and went up some stairs. When they reached the end, a black dog rushed up to them. It was no ordinary dog. Its skin hung in tatters, and the black-ish red, swollen flesh and sinew was bared. Cereberus, the name of this biological weapon was developed from a military trained doberman that had been modified with the help of the T-Virus. It's evil nature and extremely quick movements of this being had turned it into a real hell-hound.

Jill's bullet pierced the forehead of the dog that jumped at her. Next, a group of three hell-hounds attacked. Chris stopped two of them with his machine gun, replying to Jill's effort with a coup de grace. The last animal, they cut through the throat when it landed on the former elite police woman. 

"I can see no more dobermans."

"Yes, yes, the dobermans. We can only prey that no biogenetic poodles appear!"

The two worked their way further down the corridor and the loitering undead there were soon felled with bullets. A zombie with a blood-fed race appeared abruptly on a side-corridor. His snow-white eyes started at her blankly. As if something did not fit, the zombie suddenly ran at them at a speed that was impossible for an ordinary undead. It's long, sharp claws were menacingly erect and he rushed towards them with an aggressiveness and vitality that was in a totally different league to the other zombies. 

An operative who could be killed by the normal, sluggish movements of a zombie would be bitten by one of these creatures before he knew it. What's more, these things would also attack and devour normal zombies. This form of mutation was called Crimson Head or; 'Red Head'.

"Damn, what's the matter with him?" Wondered Chris. 

"This place is like a toy box! I wonder what more surprises are in store for us?" said Jill.

A nearby light suddenly switched to red, signalling an emergency situation.This led to the ongoing feeling of tension being fuelled even more. Like thunder in the distance, more explosions were heard. Chris and Jill were developing a growing indifference to the peculiarities of this dismal place. The duo struggled to continue progressing through the corridor and killed one zombie after another.

"What is that?" Said Chris, and this time he sounded a little unsure. He had just noticed something imprinted on the lattice of a nearby air vent. It was a Chimera, a creature created with the combination of the DNA of a fly combined with the DNA of a human, a project that could only be realised through use of the T-Virus. The Chimera were grotesque creatures that have benefitted from six freely moving legs, on which it ran over to Chris and Jill, with its hook-shaped curved claws scraped along the ground and caused a grating noise that could only be described by one word; annoying.

As these creatures scurried with their hooked-claws on the walls and ceilings, it seemed like a nightmare had sprung open before them. And then a steady quantity of them appeared over the railings. After the tenth or eleventh one, Chris and Jill gave up counting. They were like flies swarming around a decaying corpse, thought Jill. A Chimera on the other side attacked. Chris and Jill put their machine guns on continuous fire. On the floor soon lay a big pile of dead Chimera. Then, the pile collapsed, and new Chimera came to light. 

"Where are they all coming from?" Chris shouted.

"Had to have been from there," replied Jill.

The two hard to work hard whilst continuously firing.

"Go, take cover!" said Chris. In his hand was a grenade. C hris pulled the pin and threw the grenade so it landed exactly in the middle of the Chimera pile. Jill and himself ran round the corner of the corridor for cover. With a pile of flesh, the blast wave swept over the two of them. After the thunder died away, complete silence took hold for a moment.


Wesker moved through a dark underground tunnel with an arched vault, which seemed to be very old. The next target was the railway station on his way to the inner-web on this place. It was not long before the first zombies appeared before him.

"Get out of my way!"

Furious, he waved his hands, but the zombies made no move to make way for him. Instead, they trotted up to him. Constant hunger twisted their faces into grimaces. Wesker noticed that he could not penetrate the senses of these zombies like he could normally. Every time he tried, he felt something inside rejecting him. It reminded him of two magnets, the force pushing the other away with the same poles.

"I see," murmured Wesker and nodded.

The bio-weapons which he found here were all under the control of Sergei. This was a defensive measure in the event that they faced an opponent who - like Sergei or Wesker - had higher intelligence that it was able to preserve despite being infected with the T-Virus. Virulent and in great numbers the bio-weapons could be unleashed on an enemy like a boomerang, unless the enemy gained control of them. To avoid such a dramatic reversal Sergei had been using his own consciousness and essentially all the bio-weapons were provided with a stamp, like an antenna, so that the signals they received were not coming from everywhere, but purposelly all in the same direction.

But it was simply impossible for such a large amount of bio-weapons to be mastered completely. If Wesker had his conciousness sufficiently concentrated only on him, then it would be quite possible to wipe out the lettering of Sergei. However, this would take a considerable amount of concentration and power and would leave him vulnerable to the dangers that lay before him now. It seemed to be more effective to remove these barriers by using his weapon, knocking them out of the way bullet by bullet.

Wesker fired his pistol. He shot with the precision of a machine. All the zombies streaming in on him were struck down by a clean head-shot. Not one bullet missed its target. When a large bat flew out of the shadows, Wesker waited until it was close enough then killed it with his knife. He cut one wing and then the head clean off the giant T-Virus bat. For Wesker it was no more than crushing a fly. The monster fell to the ground. Wesker crushed the bat wildly twitching on the floor with his feet, then he continued on his way.

You must not!

From somewhere these words followed Wesker's conciousness.

You can not go there!

The creature that was behind this awareness crawled along the ceiling above Wesker and dropped to the floor directly in front of him. Its whole body was covered with a pink, slippery skin. It's brain was exposed and of course it had a long probe-like tongue that swirled like a whip. Wesker had encountered a Licker.

You must not go there!

Another Licker came crawling.

You must not! You must not! You can not go on!

From the ventilation opening there appeared more Lickers. As opposed to the zombies Wesker had faced so far, the Licker held a certain amount of intelligence. Therefore, he could hear their consciousness.

But if you go anyway...
If you move on...
I attack!
I attack!
Me too! Me too!
I attack too!
Kill him!
If you move on...up to this point and no further! We are strong! We kill you! Now we are attacking! You see, we are attacking! Ouch, that hurts! That hurts! Not going to hurt! Kill! Attack!
Aah! Aah!
Aah! That hurts!

Wesker's shots cut down the Lickers with deadly precision one after another. As he listened to the confusion of the Lickers' thoughts, he noted that in the line of the will of the beings that lived here, they were all fragments of a powerful consciousness. He recognised the characteristic form of this consciousness immediately. This was Sergei, no doubt. Sergei had stuck inside all of the bio-weapons that had been killed in the factory now, and he felt their agony. Even Wesker could have done with ease, should he have so desired. But he had no intention to tap into the consiousness of beings who were there by the dozens, if not hundreds, all going to their death. Besides the fact that it was disgusting, this negative impact could have such a burden on his own psyche one would assume that it could drive him insane. For this reason he filtered and blocked off all perceptions of death and pain. But Sergei was different. He sucked all of these negative feelings into himself voluntarily. A hundred times over he felt the pain, the anxiety, the fear of the death until he writhed and twisted. The smell of death put him in ecstacy. The repulsive pleasure to sniff veiled flesh...All this was so repugnant that Wesker banished Sergei and all the other infected people from his mind. He could not control his opponent anyway, so it meant no harm to him to do this.
Wesker appeared before another group of zombies and without any emotion, he set to work destroying their bodies. The work was monotonous, but he did not let up and pushed his way through the corridor.


Again and again, more gigantic spiders appeared in front of them. Chris and Jill were wondering where all these monsters that were attacking them incessantly were coming from. The removal of these disgusting creatures was complicated due to the fact that they sprayed a corrosive, poisonous fluid. It was almost a saving circumstance that that impact force of this liquid was quite limited. Chris and Jill had often fought against the bio-weapons from the arsenal of the Umbrella Corporation, so much so that their monstrous abnormalities no longer frightened them. But the sheer number in which they faced here, made things a real problem.
"Jill, how many more of these things can there possibly be?"
"We need to be careful that they don't surround us..."
"Let's run!" Said Chris and threw a hand grenade. The spider exploded, and a sticky liquid regulated down on them both. The long, hairy legs began flying through the area. Chris and Jill hurried through the cleared section. "These disgusting creatures make me want to throw up," said Jill, and pulled a face as though already the mission had taken a lot out of her.
"The attacks are getting more violent, we may be getting closer to the center of the factory," said Chris.
"It's possible. I wonder what happened to the others?"
"The wireless connection has been cut. Its probably something to do with the reception inside this place."
A little later, the duo reached a large hall. One the floor shone the huge logo of the Umbrella Corporation.
"What do we have here?"
Even before Chris could finish his sentence, he could feel it. At the same moment, a huge crane flew towards the two with a deafening roar. Chris grabbed Jill and pulled her with him to the ground. With insane speed, the crane shot past them and crashed through a wall so violently that the concrete shattered and a huge, gaping hole opened up in the wall.
"Too close!" Said Chris, after he had pulled himself up.
"I'm getting a bad feeling about this," said Jill.
"Yeah, me too." Chris agreed with her, and at the same moment the door by the wall opened.
"Looks like we have visitors," said Chris, his voice sounding tired. More zombies began to trudge into the hall.
"Let's go!" Said Jill.
Their machine guns spat as the two opened fire. To save ammunition, Jill and Chris had switched from fully automatic fire, and limited themselves to short bursts of three or four shots. They fired in all directions, but more each fallen zombie more appeared in their place. They trampled over the ones on the floor only to be eventually knocked down to the floor themselves. Finally, the attack of the undead came to a halt, temporarily, and a breath of soothing calm reigned in the hall. But it did not last long. A horde of Hunters flew over the pile of dead zombies towards Chris and Jill. The first creatures were massacred in an instant, but the Hunters had arrived in plentiful numbers. One by one, they fell to the two members of Alpha Team. Chris stopped the attackers with his machine gun, while Jill took care of the ones on the floor to ensure they were definitely dead. The two found a common rhythm and things were going well. So far, none of the Hunters had succeeded in getting close enough to the two felt in immediate danger. However, given the numerical superiority of the enemy, some uncertainty began to creep into Chris and he wondered if this fight would ever end in time. Up till now, they had always escaed unscathed, but who knows, maybe they had simply been lucky and this time everything was different? What if the supply of monsters really was inexhaustible? These types of thoughts began to overwhelm the duo.
"You okay?" Asked Chris?
"This is not the time to worry about me," said Jill, and fired a bullet into the mouth of a zombie that had gotten a bit too close to her. "Here it comes!"
A Hunter which had used the slow, shuffling zombies as cover suddenly jumped over their heads and leapt at Chris and Jill. Jill put a bullet in its forehead. The Hunter did a somersault backwards and thundered to the ground. It made one more attempt to get up again, but Jill shot him stone dead with a perfectly executed shot. The floor was littered with dead bodies. Among them were several Hunters, who were not yet dead, and they now waited with trembling limbs for their imminent end. The crack of gunfire and the screeches of the wounded seemed to go on forever.
A dirty, reddish black pool of liquid was beginning to emerge from the dead monsters and spread further to eventually cover the ground. The substance was a little sticky and so Chris and Jill tried to avoid stepping in it. From the mangled bodies with intestines spilling out, a terrible stench filled the room. Suddenly, there was a surprising silence.
Suspicious, the duo looked around the hall.
"What's going on?" Asked Chris, skeptical.
Both were still panting from the effort of the last battle.
"Look over there," said Jill.
"Here," said Chris, pointing to a device that resembled a control console. He cautiously approached the apparatus.
"Hmm, thought so." Chris operated the keyboard of the device and instantly, the ground sloped in the middle of the room and began to open up, the crevices of which the disgusting, blood-sticky liquid began to trickle into. Hastily, Chris moved back over to Jill, who was in the middle of the room.
"From the beginning, the ground here looked a little strange," said Chris.
It was certainly something not many people would have noticed in the middle of a fight, thought Jill and admired Chris for his keen observation.
"This is probably something like the gateway down to hell," she said.
"We will make sure the nightmare ends, here and now," said Chris. With the two members of Alpha Team, and a mountain of monstorous carcasses, the sloped ground began to decend. The journey was long, so long in fact that they actually began to believe they were going down to hell...


The air down here was wet, cold and clammy. Wesker was reminded of the coldness of a corpse. Undeterred, he continued on his way through the underground passage and reached the station, which was completely deserted. A musty smell was in the air. Above ground, there was a terribel chaos unfolding, but down here there was not so much as a power failure. Even the ventilation and air purifiers continued to function.
All strategic points were brightly lit, so Wesker moved around effortlessly. Although corpses now littered almost everywhere on the site of the factory, down here there was no trace, and the absence of any opponent gave the place a certain peacefullness and tranquility. A single train car was on the tracks. Its dark green paint was peeling in places. The freight car was exactly what Wesker was looking for. He stood before the sombre and melancholy-looking car and thought about whether he should use it.
Finally he entered the narrow cab and began to work the controls with expert hands.The doors closed, and the train began to creep forward. But apparantly, someone or something was against Wesker's little trip by train. From the roof of the car a noise was heard, a most unpleasant metallic scratching or scraping, like nails or claws, scratching on the metal.
"Visitors," muttered Wesker, and as if on that command, part of the train roof came crashing down, followed shortly thereafter by some Chimera. Not serious opponents for Wesker. Two or three Chimera approached cautiously, but Wesker's bullets easily brought them down. Also a Hunter suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Wesker looked directly into the evil face of the monster and put his weapon back into his holster. He would see to it with his bare hands. In no time at all he appeared at the back of the Hunter and delivered a thundering blow to the back of the head. The monster collapsed to the ground with a fractured skull and looked like the ugly sight of a frog that had been driven over. Two more Hunters Wesker dispatched the same way. Next came a Licker. It seemed the wagon was attracting all manner of bio-weapons.
The tongue of the Licker speared at Wesker, but he ducked under it and appeared suddenly next to his opponent. Even before the tongue could catch up again, Wesker had already pushed himself out with his feet and jammed into the exposed face of the monster, ripping the tongue with a violent jolt which acted like a drill into the skull of the monster and it's body became rigid.
Even with the next Licker, Wesker succeeded in grabbing hold of the tongue. Like a hammer thrower, he whirled the animal around on it's own tongue and threw it outside through the opening in the car roof. A moment later, another horde of Chimera crawled inside from a vent opening. Wesker did not hesitate and threw himself between them and attacked with his knife. The severed heads of the Chimera whirled through the air.
Wesker was in the car, surrounded by dead monsters, and did not even breathe faster. The factory was not very far now and he would soon arrive directly. He estimated roughly the right time, then operated the brake. Since the car had not been used for some time, the screeching brakes were deafening, but produced no effect. Wesker approached the station of the factory. The car had slowed down somewhat, but he guessed it would not be enough. He passed the station and moved on. Wesker opened the car door. He was very relaxed. The car was shaken violently and crashed into a buffer, but it did not derail. Sparks flew, the car shook, and the screeching brakes continued until finally coming to a stop.
Wesker got out, as if nothing had happened. Just a few metres away the tracks ended at a huge vertical shaft. In this black hole the wagon was almost lost forever. Wesker peered into the shaft but could not identify its source. On the walls, aisles and steps in a close-tubing pike had been built and tunnels stretched off in differing directions. It was obviously a huge, disused ventilation shaft system.
Why was there something seemingly this useless built underneath a chemical factory? This ventilation system had not been built by the Umbrella Corporation. It had belonged to a research laboratory that had been set up in the days of the Soviet Union.
To explain the origins of this laboratory it is necessary to return to the morning of 30th June 1908. This was the day that a huge explosion occured near the upper reaches of the river, Tunguska in which a huge area of about 2,000 square kilometres had trees uprooted and even shattered windows 1000 miles away. Within a radius of 30 kilometres the forest had burnt away completely around the site of the explosion, and the mushroom cloud itself was visible from several hundred miles away.
In Russia, politics prevailed at that time - immediately after the end of the Russian-Japanese war and the eve of the Russian Revolution - chaotic conditions prevailed. Near the explosion site, there were only a few villages, so the number of victims was not too high. For this reason alone, there was no initial investigation of the accident site. Only thirteen years later a group of researchers from the Soviet Academy of Sciences began a formal investigation into the crash. The results of which were communicated to the public that the consequence of the blast was due to the impact of meteorites. However, neither in this, nor subsequent studies could remains of a meteorite at the disaster site be indentified. Instead, reports of of strange phenomena were increasing in the area surrounding the accident site, and the actual findings included traces of the metal Iridium which is very rare on Earth and mutations in animals and plants. Time and again, rumours circulated that the Russian research group had uncovered the most amazing things.
Such was the talk of what had been found at the site of the explosion that there were huge metal slugs deep in the Earth and that strange machines were discovered there. In fact, at that time there was already a project codenamed; 'Long Journey' for one research group that were compiled there collecting on-site metal residues for many a year. They finally came to the end of their 'long journey' when the underground research laboratory became associated.
The initial suspicion that the explosion had been caused by a new American weapon was unconfirmed. But without doubt, metals that had been found had been there since 1908, and yet at the beginning of the investigation in 1921 these metals were totally unknown.
Since one assumed the metal had come to earth from the far reaches of the universe, the research project was called 'Long Journey'.
While the elite of the Soviet scientists had been entrusted with this project, even the simplest analysis proved to be impracticable. Nevertheless, the project continued and generations of researchers and managers devoted their lives to it without achieving any useful results. Finally, just before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the project was stopped and the underground laboratory under the chemical plant was closed. The large ventilation system was left as it was.
Wesker looked down again and suddenly jumped into the seemingly bottomless pit. But it was not easy. In the side walls of the pit, there were openings which granted access to different levels. Wesker flew in the direction of these openings. From the size of his jumps, one could argue that Wesker actually flew. Wesker cut the air and headed for a good ten metres before landing at the next level down. He landed as silently as a cat. Giant spiders, which had probably smelt prey - or were following the instructions of Sergei - crept along the walls towards him. When he looked up he saw a swarm of giant bats fly towards him. From the depths a gang of nearby zombies pushed out. For a time they wandered about on the platform but then fell one by one into the depths due to the lack of railings.
Without hesitation, Wesker jumped down to an even deeper platform. The bats did not want to miss out on their opportunity and attacked. Since Wesker flew much smoother than the bats through the shaft, he managed to trim the fluttering wings of the monsters with his knife. As he whirled through the air, he saw the giant bat crashing out of view in the corner of his eye. The zombies, awaiting him on the next platform, were removed with ease as he landed inbetween their carcasses. Next, he shot down some monster spiders that had crept up on him. Then he went to dive deeper down the shaft, deeper than Chris and Jill. Wesker was about to move into the centre of the plant.


After a long journey on the elevator which Chris and Jill had found on the floor of the hall, the mechanism finally came to a shuddering halt. The journey to this place, which was hundreds of meters below the ground, had taken rather a long time. A door opened at the bottom and the two entered a locker room, which consisted of multiple storage facilities. Behind this room, they encountered an area that was obviously used for disinfection. When they reached the end of a dark corridor, the scene before them suddenly changed. An age-old Chemical Factory had suddenly become a stainless steel, concrete research area with concrete and reinforced glass walls. It was a spotlessly-clean high tech space.
"Must be used for laboratory research," said Jill.
"Yes, indeed. The labs of the Umbrella Corporation all look somewhat similar." Chris agreed.
At the end of the disinfection area, they discovered a room that was like an armory. The door was no longer on it's hinges. Chris and Jill stepped into the room which had the dimensions of a sligtly larger office area. The inside was devastated, with most of the computer monitors destroyed. The control panels were covered in blood splatters but there was no sign of any corpses. Presumably, the dead had revived and wandered off.
"Look at this," said Chris, who had just opened one of the wall safes. Inside was an extensive weapons arsenal; row after row of machine guns, ammunition and even hand grenades.
"Did they want to start a war?"
"Dark machinations in the Russian hinterland. You almost have to admire the persistence of these guys," grumbled Chris.
"But it looks like they haven't touched this arsenal."
The two stuffed as much ammunition into their backpacks as they could. The struggle against such an extraordinary number of opponents had almost completely exhausted their reserves. In addition, they saw this opportunity to take riot guns with a shortened barrel for increased accuracy.
"This was probably a lot more than just a research laboratory," said Chris.
"Yeah, it certainly looks like someone here was expecting univited guests," Jill agreed with him.
"You mean terrorists?"
"No, people like us. But apparantly they were done previously by enemies from within the company."
"Looks like we've found the culprits already," said Chris, pointing to a group of zombies that had appeared down the hall.
"No, these look more like victims to me," said Jill. They wore the uniforms of workmen and on their breast pockets adorned the badge of the Umbrella Corporation.
"They want to return to their posts, I'd call that an exemplary sense of duty," Chris grinned.
With outstretched arms, the zombies pushed closer to Chris and Jill as they let loose with their riot guns. One zombie's head after another splattered as they came under fire. The superior stopping power of these guns was due to the fact that they destroyed the underlying nerve tissue. Moreover, the psychological effect on foes in this case was enormous. However, in the fight against zombies, the 'phychological warfare' does not matter. Unfortunately, they still continued to move even if the the links to their nervous systems had already been severed. They could only be rendered truly harmless by destroying as much of the body as possible. In the case of attacking from short distances, the shotguns had a striking effect. If one was shot in the head, a cloud of bone splinters and torn brain tissue erupted from the body. Soon the walking dead were once again just dead. The bodies were scattered everywhere on the floor but Chris and Jill knew there was still a long way to go.
With a loud clank a metal vent fell from the ceiling. For it was in there that they had been hiding as a large number of Chimera dropped down from the ceiling. On monster after another, clapped on the floor and extended their skinny, long legs. But Chris and Jill were not polite enough to wait until the Chimeras were ready to fight. Even before the last of the creatures fell to the floor, they were under fire from the riot guns. Since the Chimera had no great weight, it was relatively easy to puncture them with a bullet and send them flying across the room. As the kicking monsters tried to rise to their feet, Jill and Chris were able to target their heads. Thus, Chimeras were killed, one after the other. But even before the last ones were neutralised, the Lickers then began to appear. It was now becoming increasingly difficult to keep the invading creatures at a distance and kill them. The two former elite police officers were now smeared all over with body fluids and pieces of flesh from the monsters. The battle lasted quite a while, until finally the agressors stopped coming, and the two could finally breath easy with their red and black speckled faces. The stench, which came from the entrails of the monsters, was nauseating and put their sense of smell to the test.
"Is that it?" Chris murmured.
"I doubt it," said Jill.
The two resumed their course, wondering to themselves what they would encounter next.


Wesker had reached the bottom of the huge ventilation complex, which had appeared to him from above as a bottomless pit. He was busy trying to decimate the remaining bats when a shot rang out next to him, sending sparks flying up from the grated metallic flooring. Wesker turned around and before him stood Sergei and Ivan, it's long white coat flapping in the wind - rather, it's two white coats flapping in the wind. It was now two Ivans, as alike as two peas in a pod. Sergei lowered the barrel of his assault rifle.
Wesker still had his weapon trained on Sergei's head.
"Comerade Albert Wesker! Welcome to my fortress!" Sergei spread his arms wide.
"Are you still desperately clinging on to a sinking ship, Colonel Sergei Vladimir?" Wesker asked.
"Umbrella will not perish," said Sergei. "It will endure hardship and sin and pain to be reborn as something new. It's unfortunate I do not think you would be able to understand it."
"Do you still believe that Soviet socialism is the only true form of society? Wesker wanted to know.
"This question I will answer. Soviet socialism has left us a wonderful heritage. For example, here..." Sergei brought his assault rifle into account. "Awtomat Kalaschnikowa 47th, the famous gun, created by Mikhail Kalashnikov. Practical and extremely reliable. On the battlefield there are no better weapons than this. I think she is that to which we should be very proud in Russia," said Sergei, and put the gun on the floor. "The AK assault rifles are used all over the world, and it's not only guns that come from the Ischmasch that work. Everywhere abroad this weapon is manufactured under licence. And if you count the illegal copies, it is the most widely used assault rifle in the world. And yet...I feel a certain dissatisfaction."
Sergei took a different weapon from his holster and continued.
"There is something I miss on the very practical Kalashnikov. And that is beauty. This weapon is not good enough. But once you see a comparison, here..." Sergei raised the muzzle of his weapon at Wesker, who watched him in silence. "A Mauser C96. The first automatic pistol in the world. Created in Germany."
Although Wesker remained silent, Sergei shook his head.
"I know you disagree with me, but I'm convinced of it. This design really is outstanding. A gun is more than a mere object that fires bullets. What will be fired from it is more than just bullets. It is death. Death as death itself, which races at alarming speed through the air. To spread fear and pain, a weapon must be not only just be practical! The pain is the God who controls everything! And this weapon that God has coming down upon us, must be more than a mere tool! Death, fear and pain, that is the power of the gods. And as long as this is so, this device that causes so much fear and death, is something sacred. It is a cross, a grail, a sacred tool of the gods."
Without warning, Sergei squeezed the trigger. The muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at Wesker's face. An evasion was not possible - at least not humanly possible. Wesker bowed his head slightly to one side. The bullet grazed his cheek. Some blood trickled from the wound, but disappeared again immediately. In a split second, the wound had healed. Ostentatiously unimpressed, Wesker spoke:
"Are you finally finished with your useless drivel?"
Sergei put the gun back in the holster. "You will surely need to specify something, yes?"
"Get out of my way, Sergei. I have no use for you anymore."
"Right, I forgot to introduce them! I have to imagine...These are two of my old friends of..."
The two Ivans in their long white coats stepped forward.
"Friends?" Wesker asked skeptically.
"Good friends. They are almost like family. I will let the two fight against you, Wesker, since you have made the effort to personally undertake such a long trip to Russia. You know, Russia really is a fabulous country, even for your final resting place."
Sergei disappeared behind a door, and the Ivans began to circle Wesker with deliberate steps. Wesker already knew, they were not men, but Tyrants. Suddenly, they jumped up and were suddenly directly upon him. But he was no ordinary man any more. Without hesitation, he pulled the safety pin of a hand grenade and hurled it towards the Tyrant. The next moment, he had already retreated far enough away from them. The hand grenade sailed towards the jumping Tyrant and exploded. Wesker's opponents were thrown back through the air and landed on their backs. Although a hand grenade had just been detonated in their immediate vicinity, the two appeared to be undamaged.
"I am your King!" Wesker announced, and now held a machine gun in his hands. It was aimed at the heads of the Tyrants, who attempted to stand up straight again. He fired a volley. Both made counter moves to dodge the bullets, but at the same time Wesker jumped even higher, and landed on one of the connecting bridges. Even before his feet touched down on the bridge, he had the Tyrants under fire again once more. The two beings landed on the ground as the bullets snapped around them. Only after they had gained some distance on Wesker did they attempt to return fire with rocket-propelled grenades.
The powerful rockets, which had been designed for use against tanks, whizzed towards Wesker. But he calmly took aim with his machine gun, fired a few bursts, and all of the shells exploded in the air. After he had eliminated all the bazookas, he threw another hand grenade at the Tyrant. Although, this time, he calculated in advance where the explosion would hurl the two units and threw a grenade down there too.
When the swirling dusts created by the explosions had cleared, two bizarre creatures had appeared before Wesker's eyes. The Tyrants had transformed. Their white coats were torn from their bodies and their forms were now fully exposed. The skin over the blackish red muscle strands had burst, and the extent of their arms had increased to more than double. Their hands were now powerful enough to crush the head of a man with one blow, and instead of finger nails, they now had razor sharp, shiny metallic claws.
Wesker jumped from the connecting bridge and landed elegantly on the floor. One of the Tyrants stood directly before him, the other stood to his back, some distance away. He let rip at the monster standing in front of him with a hail of bullets, and the Tyrant storming from behind was sent to the floor with a semi-circular step and kick to the ground. Then he turned and fired at the head of the Tyrant lying on the floor. But the monster jumped up again as if nothing had happened. With breathtaking speed and agility the huge body jumped between platforms and and pipes, chasing through the air. Wesker immediately took to ther persecution, and there was a real airborne battle unfolding. Although it's balance was off, the second Tyrant dove up immediately to attack Wesker with its claws. Wesker, however, managed to grab the arm of the attacker and his opponent tightly. He pressed the muzzle of his machine gun on the eyeball of the Tyrant and fired. An up-close salvo of 5.45 millimeter bullets in the eye socket meant the end for the Tyrant. Wesker kicked off the back of the monster and sailed on. The lifeless body of the monster smacked loudly on the floor.
The second Tyrant had in that moment towered over Wesker and it sensed that victory was secure. However, just a second later it became clear that it's margin of victory had dissipated. Even though it had just had Wesker in its sights, he was now gone. It was perplexed. Suddenly a grenade bounced off the back of the Tyrant and detonated. The blast shredded the skin, the metal fragments pierced its head. The left arm, which the monster needed for balancing its body with the landing, had been torn away from the joint by the pressure wave and now hung limply. When the Tyrant struck the floor, riddled by shrapnel, its skull splattered like a watermelon and brain matter exploded in all directions.
"Your living in a fantasy world if you think you can stop me that easily, Sergei." Wesker muttered as he left the ventilation complex.


As Jill and Chris ventured deeper and deeper into the underground complex the facilitiy's purpose became obvious: it was a research and production site for new kinds of bio weapons. Here, scientists researched, developed and cultivated. If there was sufficient prospect for a new BOW to find a practical use, an applicable production line was installed. With this facility it was possible for the Umbrella Corporation to supply the whole world market with bio weapons.
"That's why we've been coming across so many BOWs on the way here", said Jill.
"There's more to that, I'm afraid, Jill."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sure that this is a research and development facility. But all the creatures we came across seemed strangely familiar", Chris explained.
"So what's your point?"
"I guess there are still newly developed BOWs we haven't met yet."
"Possibly", Jill said. "Apparently they have started work in these labs just recently. I wouldn't be surprised if they had been working on something big."
"Like some kind of killer machine ... I'd prefer they had developed new chocolate flavours or something here, though."
"Unfortunately I just can't imagine Spencer as a kind of Willy Wonka. He lacks that special type of humor."
At the end of the corridor Jill and Chris found an extremely sturdy looking door which, surprisingly enough, was not locked. Chris opened it and stood in front of a pool, which has obviously been used for breeding purposes. He didn't need to strain his imagination to picture the creatures that were being bred here. They were old enemies to both Chris and Jill.
The monstrous black shadow floated restlessly at the bottom of the pool. Just like its ancestor, the white shark, this creature had to constantly move to be able to breath. It was a bio genetic weapon called Neptune, a true beast and almost invincible when fought in his natural element.
For feeding and observation an iron walkway had been installed, its lower half now submerged in water.
"Actually I don't want to go in there", Chris said, one foot already in the water.
"The walkway splits over there. What do you say, right or left?" Jill asked.
"How about going back?" Chris replied.
"Unfortunately that's not an option."
"Right then."
They continued down the walkway.
"It's coming!" Jill shouted.
The black shape bore down on them. Riot guns at the ready the members of Alpha team waited for the right moment. The Neptune raised its head out of the water and opened its massive jaws to snap at them.
One advantage of the riot guns was their quick rate of fire. Both Chris and Jill buried two rounds into the beast's maw. With any normal shark this would have been enough to rip its head apart but the Neptune was no normal shark.
The creature shut its mutilated jaws and gazed at Chris and Jill for a second with its expressionless eyes. Apparently the shot gun rounds did have some effect on the Neptune because it veered away and retreated for now.
"Run!" Chris shouted. Due to its underdeveloped brain the pain would not hold the creature off for too long. In mere seconds everything would be forgotten und it would come back to get its prey.
"Don't slip or it's over!" Jill warned while running after her partner.
The longer they ran, the water resistance semmed to grow stronger, hampering their progress, giving them the feeling to be in a nightmare, not getting anywhere. Directly behind them water splashed wildly. They didn't need to turn around to know that the Neptune had taken up the chase. Both Chris and Jill had a clear mental picture of its gaping maw and razorsharp teeth, but in the last possible moment they reached the pool's edge and the door on the other side. It slammed close after them. They both were completely soaked.
"At least we won't need to shower tonight," said Chris, a grin on his face.
Being soaked to the bone indeed seemed a lot nicer then being covered all over by stinking body parts.
Jill shrugged. "Yeah, I feel like I could go on a date now."
The air was hot around them and they felt like being in a sauna, their clothes already drying. Oily, soot-blackened iron pipes and electric leads ... mesh wires and rusty steel plates. Jill decided that she would never wanted to work in a facility like this, not even temporarily. Above them, cylinder-shaped containers moved constantly over a complex railing system on the ceiling. A sqeaking sound could be heard every once in a while, coming from the containers.
"I wonder what's in them," said Chris.
"Then let's go and find out where they're going." Jill suggested.
So they followed the moving containers and it didn't take them long to arrive at a giant furnace which explained the heat around them. Once a container reached the furnace its doors would slide open, setting free the roaring flames. The whole container would be dropped into the inferno and right after that the doors would slide shut again. The intense heat made it pretty obvious that everything in that furnace would be burned to ashes in an instance.
"Looks like they're trying to dispose of something here," Jill mused.
Chris agreed. "Yes, this place seems to be an incineration plant."
There was another squeak from one of the containers. Something inside was struggeling. And violently so.
"Hey, could that ...?"
But Jill didn't get a chance to complete her question, because the container jumped the rails and hit the ground before them with a bang. The force of the impact had blown off its lid and a Hunter had been hurled out of its confinement. Or at least a creature that remotely looked like a Hunter. Its whole body was puffy and deformed and tumors the size of ping pong balls grew out of its back and head. Somewhere in this mess a pair of eyes and a crooked row of teeth could be seen. The pathetic creature writhed with obvious pain so Jill put a bullet through its head.
"Something went wrong with it."
"Yeah, so this is where they dispose of the production failures."
"Now that's quality controll."
"If you consider the possible danger of infection by hazardous biological material, incineration is the safest method to get rid of it."
Suddenly Jill's radio beeped and a distorted voice could be heard.
"... secured ... facility ..."
"Roger. We've infiltrated the underground laboratories und continue searching."
"Roger. We took quite a hammering up here so be careful ... Good luck!" And this transmission was the last one Chris and Jill would receive until the end of their assignment.
"Sounds like they're okay up there," Chris said and started to proceed, but Jill held him back.
"Wait. Look at that!"
She pointed to a section of the wall close to the floor.
"Look at what?" Chris couldn't make out anything.
"There's a hole in the wall."
Indeed. Now Chris could see the small hole, too. It was about a third of an inch wide and if you looked at it from the right angle light seemed to be shining through it from beyond the wall.
"I think I know what that is," Chris stated, drawing his gun. He took a few steps back and gestured at Jill to take cover with him around the next corner.
From his secure position he fired a bullet at the omnious hole. This resulted in a loud explosion in which the wall was perforated by small metal balls. They had disabled an anti-personnel-mine.
"Looks like they have some kind of security system here," Chris said.
"Probably they don't want people to snoop around the place when there's no security guards on duty." Jill mused.
"I guess this little booby trap would even stop a BOW running amok."
"So you think they were trying to keep the BOWs off their backs with that?"
"Could be. If they hadn't thought of that they would've had a lot of problems containing a possible outbreak."
Chris and Jill continued down a corridor that ended in another door.
"Seems that we've left the secured area."
Beyond the door the zombies already waited for them. At the sound of the door opening their inhuman eyes turned to Chris and Jill and the fight started anew.
Both of them were excellent combatants and since there were not making any mistakes it was highly improbable that their enemies would inflict any major damage on them. When the battle subsided, Jill found herself mumbling.
"I have been alarmingly stupid back then." She wasn't even aware if Chris could hear her or not. "I've been running around like a stupid dog through green fields under a blue sky. That's more then 10 years ago now ..." A somehwat nostalgic feeling had washed over her. Maybe her mind needed a break from all the stres and insanity in this place. "There was this big oak. I used to bury my treasures under that oak. I can't remember which tree it was anymore; I don't even remember what I had buried there."
"Must have been something important to you. So important that you can't remember it anymore." Chris suggested.
"Maybe you're right ... some days I think of the time back then when I was still stupid. I thought that I had all eternity for myself and everything would just stay the way it was. And that nothing could change me or my surroundings and that I could just keep on running through the fields. That the sky would always be blue, the air would always be cool and the sun would always be warm and me ... I would always be me forever. But the seasons changed, coming over me year after year like the shadows of the clouds above wandering over the earth."
"You've been a child back then."
It had been just a small break from the fight. Now the monsters returned in even higher numbers. The Eliminators, an ape-based type of BOW, were especially vicious and ganged up again and again for their relentless attacks. They were extremely fast and even the smallest mistake could bring them dangerously close to Chris and Jill. A well-placed bullet through the head could of course stop them but their agility made it quite hard to get a clean head shot in.
"There's more and more of them, "Chris pointed out. "I think we're coming close to something big."
"Yes, so let's pick up the pace," Jill agreed.
After defeating the last of the Eliminators and remaining zombies they walked on to inspect the next room. It was well lit and had a switchboard on one wall.
"This looks like an elevator to me," Chris said. He pushed one of the switches and the floor beneath their feet began to slowly sink into the ground. It was quite a long journeydown; it seemed like that elevator would send them directly to Hell. Chris and Jill had a feeling that they came closer and closer to danger and to their greatest enemy. Then the elevator stopped. They were now on the lowest sub basement level of the research facility.
The door opened. Ahead of them was some kind of controll room with a row of monitors showing frozen images of different areas and the occasional warning message. When Chris and Jill left the room they encountered a group of zombies waiting for them but they dealt with them swiftly with the aid of their machine guns and handgranates. After that they climbed a set of stairs.
Thanks to their sixth sense they escaped the next death trap: almost simultaneously they jumped off the stairs onto the level below to the sound of ripping steel cables. High above them one of the heavy containers from earlier parted from the railing system and fell onto the steel bridge, smashed it to pieces and hit the ground below. Had Chris and Jill proceeded on their path the falling container would have chrushed them, killing them instantly. But there was no time for them to muse about their luck because new dangers were already on their way: a group of Chimeras, Hunters and Eliminators, accompanied by another type of BOW that Chris and Jill hadn't encountered yet. Ivy. Or to use the correct term "Plant 43".
Ivy was a plant that was able to move about and could fire projectiles from behind the petals that formed its head. These projectiles contained digestive enzymes. Though Ivy wasn't very fast and could be kept at bay quite easily with the use of a handgun it was still a dangerous creature, especially when encountered in large numbers or when teamed up with Hunters and Chimeras.
Jill and Chris were professionals and they could coordinate their attacks blindly.
With the slight exception in th ecase of Ivy they knew everything about their enemies' behaviour and attack patterns, it still wouldn't be a walk in the park but the danger to get seriously wounded could be kept at a minimum. A fatal error was highly improbable due to their combat abilities but as the numbers of the creatures increased there was a much higher risk that they would be defeated by them. And they were confronted by countless enemies at the moment. Just one wrong placed step could've meant death.
Amongst the pile of corpses on the floor was a Hunter still alive. Its face had been ripped to shreds but that didn't stop it from getting up behind Jill, who somehow sensed the movement but it was already too late.
The moment she turned around razorsharp claws ripped through her skin from her chest to her hips. The cuts weren't deep enough to inflict any damage on internal organs but they still caused massive flesh wounds. Jill was hurled around and hit the floor, her hands pressed to her stomach, trying to get up again.
Chris blasted the Hunter's head from its shoulders with a shotgun round and hurried over to his partner. Fortunately their enemies had retreated for now so Chris had time to get out his first aid kit to help Jill. He glued her wounds shut and applied an antibiotic ointment before covering the wounds with medical tape to prevent any more blood loss.
"Are you okay?" he asked, seeing that Jill looked nowhere near okay. But she smiled bravely and said:
"You know what I told you earlier?"
"That story from your childhood?"
"Exactly. Back then there was that boy named Morry. He went to my school. He wore the same clothes everyday, and the same sad face. He smelled like dried leaves. From time to time he came to school with bad bruises and injuries. Anyway, more than once he had a broken arm or leg. I never talked to him but one day I met him on that field under the big oak. It had been a sunny day, one of those bright sunny days of spring, a day where nothing bad could possibly happen. He had come to the oak before me and when he noticed me he ran away. But then he turned around and I saw him smiling for the first time. His lips were torn and even a stupid girl like me could see that someone had beaten him up. I asked him if he was alright and he just smiled again. And then he showed me his hands and on his palms there were broken bits of glas. He told me that those were glas splinters which had been carried along in a river and the water had smoothed them. He said he went to the river from time to time to collect those splinters and then bury them under the oak like a treasure. He gave me some of his splinters and I picked a pink one to keep, the rest I buried with his ones under the oak."
"Like a stupid dog."
"Yeah, like a stupid dog. It had been the first and the last time he ever talked to me. The year after that he died. Our teachers and the parents kept silent about the whole matter but me and all the other kids knew that his dad had beaten him to death. The police came and there was a lot of fuss. I lived in a small town and you can't keep such things secret in a small town."
"Sad story."
"Yes, sad story. After that my childhood was over. I realized that this world is full of violence and that death is the end to everything."
"And now you regret that you've ever been born?"
"No way. I'm grateful for the fact that I'm alive."
Jill sat up and was on her feet again a moment later.
"You look pale," Chris stated, a worried expression on his face. "You sure, you're alright?"
"I'm fine. Just a bit tired. But it'll pass. I'm like a cat, I always land on my feet. Let's go, Chris."
Pale-faced but with her head held high, Jill proceeded along their way and Chris was under the impression that she had been doing this all her life.


Wesker opened the door and saw a hexagonal shaped shaft decending downwards before him. He looked down but it was impossible to tell where the shaft ended. He knew this was an elevator shaft. The floor was designed in such a way that so that it could decend to the lowest level. From his position he could not reach the control panel for the elevator. Only when the last person to go down sent the elevator back up could the next person go down.
Chris and Jill had used this lift to reach the bottom. Wesker peered down into the hole and did not hesitate to step over the edge and fall into the seemingly bottomless abyss. He fell straight down and the lights on the shaft walls shot past at breakneck speeds before his eyes and the wind roared in his ears. Wesker repelled himself with his feet from one wall to the next on the opposite side of the pit. There, he pushed off again. Like a ping-pong ball, he jumped down the hexagonal shaft from wall to wall and moving ever further downward. Some giant bats circled around him but they seemed to delay an attack.His superhuman abilities had obviously proved to be daunting. Smooth as a cat he was finally at the bottom of the pit. The floor was covered with monster corpses. Wesker placed his hand on the head of a Chimera which was still twitching, and felt its consciousness, which was about to fade.
Everything is going to plan, Chris.
Wesker smiled. He had just fished the face of the man who killed the Chimera from its memory. Chris. He must have gone past here some hours ago.
Wesker opened a door and entered a room where several monitors were lined up which depicted red warning flashes. He tried the control panel but they did not respond. Apparantly the entire plant had been shut down. From the control room he walked into a dark warehouse where the dead bodies of countless bio-organic weapons were lying about. Wesker climbed up an iron staircase. It led to a walkway that had been destroyed half way down by a large metal container. Opposite on the other side of the collapsed walkway, there was a door. Without wings, it was unreachable. Just as if he were jumping over a puddle, Wesker jumped over the broken metal container and landed easily on the opposite side. There he stood at the door and entered a corridor at the end of which he found himself in front of a door with an electronic locking mechanism. An ID card was required. Wesker fired for a long time at the door lock until it was completely destroyed. He then opened the door. In the space that opened up before him, a large quantity of breeding boxes were stored in great numbers. Wesker of course knew that the virus material was stored here. He surveyed the interior of the room which was very dimly lit, this was to minimize the
harmful influence of light upon the virus. He found a storage container for experimental viruses that was secred by a lock. Wesker unlocked it.
"Unauthorized intruder!"
A warning announcement sounded, and red lights began flashing. Completely unimpressed, Wesker opened the door of the conatiner and took a capsule that was marked with a 'T'. He tucked it carefully into his inside pocket, and stepped back through the door. He then turned towards his final destination, the space in which his arch enemy lay in wait.


Chris and Jill had the feeling they were moving around inside a giant beehive. Hexagonal rooms were lined up in seemingly endless succession. Each were completely identical and shone in a pure, bright white light.
"These rooms are all the same, it's like something out of a labyrinth," said Chris.
"It could be a trap to lure possible intruders into a mistake," replied Jill.
"That means we could be in trouble round here..."
Chris and Jill had apparantly reached the last door of the maze. Behind it stretched a long corridor. The two of them sprinted down it, heading towards the final fight with their last opponent. At the end of the corridor they met another door and entered a large room with a domed ceiling
where not one supporting pillar could be seen. They were standing in a vast, empty cavern. It was a desolate sight.
"What is this?" Chris asked.
"Probably some kind of testing ground for bio-organic weapons," suggested Jill. "In order to test out their combat capabilities."
"An arena?"
"Exactly!" A male voice suddenly boomed out. It came from a speaker in the ceiling. "I rarely get visitors here. Welcome!"
It was Sergei's voice, which echoed loudly across the room. The two of them raised their weapons and looked around the room.
"No reason to be concerned. At least you are fellow soldiers after all."
"Who are you?" Chris asked.
Sergei did not answer Chris' question. He simply went on with his speech.
"Comerades. If your lives are used to fighting, you'll probably already know that one feels most alive when surrounded in battle with those whose lives are ending. The meaning of life lies in the fight you fight, the pain we feel, the hurt when we find ourselves closer to death. This is the greatest happiness that there is to experience in our lives. To enjoy the power of life, you must extinguish it and cast it into the flames. I think it is time to begin. May I introduce the latest product of the Umbrella Corporation; T.A.L.O.S.!"
A siren sounded and a computer voice announced:
"Atention! T-A.L.O.S. will now be activated. Attention!"
A hole appeared in the domed roof above them and through the gap something dropped down into the room.
"What is it... a bio-organic weapon?" Jill asked.
The earth shook under their feet as the giant landed. The largest part of its body was covered by a massive metal tank. Its arms were so powerful and laced with armour that they seemed to unsteady its balance. Even its face mask was made out of metal. The creature, which looked almost like a robot, wore a giant rocket launcher on its shoulder. With this it could fire four missiles at once. T.A.L.O.S. propped its mighty hand against the wall and dug its claws which were reminiscant of sharp stakes into the wall. The wall made up of sheeted steel cladding crumbled as if it were cheese.
"This is... T.-A.L.O.S.!"
As if it had been waiting for this keyword, the monster suddenly fired its rocket launcher. The deadly machine spat out white smoke, and the missiles headed directly for Chris and Jill. The two of them threw themselves sideways, Jill to the right, Chris left. The shock wave from the explosion lifted them  both up and Jill collided with the ground on her shoulder and rolled into a ball. Before she could even get to her feet, another rocket was fired at her. Jill crawled forward for a meter before standing up and jumped. Again she was hit by the blast wave and thrown against the wall. Shots were fired. It was Chris. He had his machine gun and brought the T.A.L.O.S. under fire. The monster turned its attentions to him and Jill took out a hand grenade. As Chris kept T.-A.L.O.S. busy, she crept as close as possible to it and threw the grenade. She had set the detonator for the shortest possible time. The bomb exploded just above the head of the monster. As Jill felt the pressure wave from the explosion, she was already firing with her machine gun. At the same time, Chris threw another grenade at T-A.L.O.S. which detonated by its feet. Its breastplate was blown off and Chris and Jill took the opportunity to fire several volleys at its unprotected side. But T-A.L.O.S. was not by any means ready to hold out as a target for its opponents. The monster rushed at Chris and its powerful right arm swung like a giant flail at the former elite police officer. Chris managed to throw himself to the side and dodge the blow by a hair's breath. Where Chris had just been standing, with brutal violence hit the fist of the monster. Cracks formed in the ground. In that instant, Jill jumped right before T-A.L.O.S. with her riot gun and fired a barrage of pellets at the exposed breast of the giant. T-A.L.O.S. roared like a wild animal and swung his mighty arm. There was no escape. Jill was thrown through the air and crashed into a wall.
"Go away!" Chris screamed and jumped in front of the monster, gun in hand. He targeted the the mouth of the rocket launcher on the shoulder of T.A.L.O.S. His first shot went awry. T-A.L.O.S. seemed to understand what Chris was trying to do and pushed the fire botton of the rocket launcher. Exactly at that moment, Chris' second bullet struck the mouth of the rocket launcher. A collosal explosion reverberted across the room. Red flame and metal splinters flew across the room in all directions and a white smoke obscured the view until visability was lost.
Jill called out to Chris, and Chris called back to her. Each relieved that the other was still alive. Jill had used T.A.L.O.S.' shattered breastplate as a shield and it had saved her life for embedded in the breastplate were hundreds of metal shards. Chris had been thrown across the room. A splinter from the rocket launcher had drilled into his left shoulder. Strangely, he felt no pain. With an effort, he thought about what to do next. The T-A.L.O.S. was alive, but it had completely lost its armour. However, its dark grey skin possessed a metallic gloss. It was still a mechanical monster. Jill positoned in front of their opponent, Chris at the rear. Then they opened fire. The movements of T-A.L.O.S. had now become evidently slower. They continued to direct continuous fire at the enemy but ensured it could not get too close to them. Chris began to doubt that their attacks were having an effect when it happened suddenly. T-A.L.O.S. stopped.
"Go!" Jill cried, and Chris threw the hand grenade. With the thunder of the explosion, the creature fell to the ground. The duo continued to fire upon the head and back of the creature. T-A.L.O.S. showed no reaction.
"Unbelieveable, how Umbrella have constructed this thing!" With every breath, Chris could feel the metal shard in his shoulder.
"Yeah, I think one of these giants matches the combat power of a tank," agreed Jill.
"I would even say that it is more than one battle tank."
They hastily withdrew as the T-A.L.O.S. began to stir again.


With his weapon at the ready Wesker entered the deepest part of the complex, the place where he awaited his nemesis. The room was at the heart of the huge research laboratory and contained the command system which controlled the entire complex. The room was the size of a gymnasium. A huge domed ceiling was hardly noticeable as no lighting reached up that far. In one corner, admidst a vast bank of monitors was Sergei. He did not look over at Wesker as he spoke.
"Code-named T-A.L.O.S. He has inherited all the fighting and destructive power of a Tyrant but is completely controlled by the Red Queen. He is the perfect fighting machine. The monitors showed T-A.L.O.S. firing its rockets at Chris and Jill.
"Chris is doing well. He does not disappoint me," said Wesker.
Surprised, Sergei turned round.
"Is he one of your people?"
"He used to be."
"And what did you make of Ivan and his comerades?"
"A boring toy."
"I see. But what do you say about this?" Sergei put his hand on the control panel.
"Chris Redfield. A former member of STARS. The incident at the old mansion..." A computerized voice was reading Chris' profile. Wesker recognised the voice.
"This system is controlled by a computer such as the Red Queen?" he asked.
"It's more than just a computer," said Sergei. "I have transported the entire data storage and everything else here. Before Raccoon City went down, I had everything extracted from the city. The glorious history of the Umbrella Corporation continues!"
With a satisfied expression, Sergei watched the battle that took place on the monitors.
"Red Queen is like me. When it linked with T-A.L.O.S., it called for new data and information for stimulation. It wanted to learn the truth about the world and feel real pain. And deadly agony."
"Red Queen is just a tool. Its value depends on the person who uses it. Red Queen and T-A.L.O.S. are much too good for a company like Umbrella that is doomed. But I could give both of them a new life!"
"You have not changed, Wesker. Actually, I admire your swagger and your arrogance. We were once comerades. Perhaps it would be a good idea to confirm one thing; Which of us is the Lord and which is the slave?"
"You make bold claims for a slave, Sergei."
"If you are someone, who in my eyes deserves it, then I would swear alligance to him and would be delighted to be your slave! As if I have already done to the Umbrella Corporation by swearing my loyalty. But unfortunately, you are nothing more than a piece of shit."
"The Umbrella Corporation will not be around for much longer," objected Wesker. "Even if you swear your loyalty, there is nothing left to be loyal to."
"My country has gone down, and I have lost what was once my home. But Spencer has returned hope to me once more." Sergei spoke with the look of a fantasist on his face.
"Hope? What a joke. Those are just fantasies of people who have no future."
"I have passed the prototype test for becoming a Tyrant. In return for this position I donated ten clones of me. The Tyrant is my brother, my second-self. Soon, my brothers will rule the world!"
"Basically you are completely useless to me. But you know of Spencer's location. Tell me where he is?"
"You'll get nothing out of me. Even if you tear me to pieces, I would be glad of it because the pain for me is the greatest happiness. Torment me all you like, I shall take delight in it and finally you will understand that I am the strongest. No one is able to take my confidence!"
"You're crazy!"
"I'm not crazy. The world itself is!"
Sergei took out a curiously shaped knife. Tha handle was sitting in the middle between two opposing blades. The measured diameter of blade tip to tip was over two feet.
"You know, the collection of antique weapons is my hobby. First, I collected medieval weapons and torture instruments from Europe. Then I began to take an interest also in Asia. In India and China there were some quite interesting weapons. But soon it became not sufficient enough just to collect the weapons. I started to build the weapons myself. I delegated that to a sword-smith who specialized in the forgeing of antique weapons. But that was all still the time when the Soviet Union existed. By
the way, do you know what these blades are made of?"
Sergei held the knife out to Wesker.
"Of course you don't. It is made from a material that is unique on Earth. Perhaps you have heard of the Tunguska explosion. It is said that the cause of the explosion is still a mystery, but the Soviet Government knew exactly what happened there. This knife is made of the unique metal which was found in the ground in Siberia. It rusts and yet it does not corrode. It is so light yet it is much harder than steel and it can be fine polished to an incredible sharpness. I have had several blades forged from this metal. It is an absolute dream material. Unfortunately it is not yet possible to analyse it, so it cannot be mass-manufactured. But I do not really care, I have what I want and now I am going to try it out..."
With a quick, smooth motion Sergei threw the knife. Th eblades rotated at high speed and almost hissed as it sailed towards Wesker. He moved out with a quick twist of his upper body just in time to dodge the weapon. As it flew narrowly past Wesker, it cut into the solid wall like a knife through butter. Then the blade arched in flight and headed back. Sergei took out a second knife, threw it and ran off. Then he grabbed the first knife from the air and threw it straight back in Wesker's direction. The knife easily pierced the concrete walls and all that stood it its way. Monitors, tables, walls and columns were all severed as if by magic.
"Sharp thing, this knife, do you not think?"
In view of the blades flying around even a man as powerful as Wesker could not remain passive. The two pairs of blades chased Wesker's blurred form like a feather in the wind, yet they did not reach him.
"All right, what do you say to this?" Sergei took out a third knife.
What happened next bordered on the miraculous as like a living being, one set of blades changed trajectory and returned to Sergei's hands as he tossed the next one out. The other two blades whirled through the air, on a constant, unremitting hunt for Wesker.
After a while, it looked as though the first of the blades would catch Wesker's throat when he suddenly grabbed it out of the air just before it reached him and threw it back with ease. The blade scraped along the walls, sliced through metal tubing and headed for Sergei. With great difficulty, Sergei managed to evade the knife but not completely as it slashed a hole along the side of his face. Sergei thrust his tongue through the gaping hole in his cheek so it was visible from the outside. His smile intensified.
"You make me happy, Wesker!"
At that moment, the battle was disturbed as Red Queen came forward with an announcement.
"Attention! Attention! Connection has been terminated. T.-A.L.O.S. control is off."
For a moment, Sergei arched his brow so that wrinkles appeared on his forehead then widened his lips in a devilish grin.
"Unfortunately, the control of T-A.L.O.S. has been disabled. Thus the speed of T development in its body cannot be predicted and a monster is born which not even the gods can tame!"
Wesker looked over at a monitor that had not yet been destroyed. The image showed Chris and Jill bent over the prostrate T.-A.L.O.S. The monster suddenly began to move and they backed away with their weapons ready.
"This is not the time to worry about others, Wesker," said Sergei whom had placed his three blades carefully on the floor. "The time for games is over. Let us bring this to an end."
He stretched out his arms and crossed his fingers like a Buddhist priest who performs a Mudra gesture with his hands. Suddenly he began to tremble and shake, so rapidly that it blurred the outline of his body. His eyes wore an ecstatic expression and were wide open staring into space. Through clenched teeth he let out a low moan. Torment and delight in his face made him look terrifying. Suddenly a wet tentacle covered in a sickly liquid burst out of his back and took the shape of a reinforced roundworm. The 'worm' was flat, divided into several tentacles and was a light pink colour. Its diameter was about twenty centimeters.

In progress...