— Ugh, Nemesis, — I said calmly, finishing my sprint and climbing to the highest tier of the city warehouse. — It's time for us to part. It's not you, it's me.
Smiling cheerfully and putting my fists on my hips, I decided to taunt my pursuer one last time. He had been chasing me since the department store, running all over the city and throwing all sorts of nasty things. I particularly disliked the bad cars. One of them exploded and almost scorched my coat; only my quick reaction saved it from being burned. And that cursed flamethrower. In short, Nemesis is the most disgusting guy I've ever met.
— S.T.A.R.S.
— Are you trying to object? — I chuckled, shaking my head in displeasure. — Ugh, if only I had a suitable weapon, I would destroy you. But what's not there, is not there. Adios, amigo. I hope our paths don't cross again.
Nodding goodbye, as if to an old friend, I turned around and entered the warehouse control room. Just in time: metal screeched behind me, and an iron support collapsed — too narrow for Nemesis to climb up, and fragile enough for him not to break it.
Making my way out a different way, I heard static on the radio. Excellent, my esteemed partner, my good friend whom I tried to kill, is trying to contact me. I hope she's okay. I spent a lot of time on her, but it should pay off. If Valentine survives Raccoon City, I'll have a good debtor… hmm… in the special department for fighting biological weapons. The president, if he's not a complete idiot, will definitely create an organization to combat such incidents. And who will he call if not a good fighter who managed to survive the incident with a local zombie apocalypse? In addition, Jill tried to fight the threat in advance, which only makes her resume look better. I should definitely help her to gain access to secret government data through her. Or get amnesty for myself, which is also not bad.
— Well, now I'm talking like an experienced spy. And I am a spy, albeit a former one, — I chuckled, tuning the signal. These radios are not modern; they work on the principle of transmission, switching the signal from reception to transmission.
— The doctor is with me, and… we were able to get a sample of the vaccine, — Jill reported. In our time, useful people are like a handful of coins scattered all over the country. They are very valuable; they are difficult to find. Most of the time, you have to do everything yourself. I'm glad I can rely on Valentine. — But…
— Why wouldn't there be a "but"?
— There are some armed people at the station. If they're from Umbrella's special squad, I could put the target in danger. What should I do? — Jill unexpectedly threw a difficult moral choice at me.
— Did they see you?
— No. As soon as I noticed them, I immediately took Nathaniel to the nearest building. And, for some reason, the train didn't move. I suspect they have a problem with the power.
— Another problem, of which a wagon and a small cart have already accumulated, — I sighed. — You have two options…
— S.T.A.R.S.
— Which I'll tell you about another time, — I quickly finished, cutting the connection and increasing my running pace. It seems I'm very popular among monsters of all stripes and calibers. But I can only disappoint them: I'm interested in beauties who are at least a little inferior to me in appearance. Monsters with a flamethrower are clearly not in my circle of interests.
Jokes again in a gloomy city…
I should think: what should I do? In principle, what's stopping me from teasing this already teased guy even more? Nothing, so I took out my pistol and carefully aimed, shooting directly into the large fuel tank on his back. Nemesis didn't appreciate such a prank, especially when an explosion sounded and the poor guy was thrown into the nearest building. It won't kill him, but it will delay him for a couple of minutes. Just enough to get away far, far away. True, it's unknown for how long.
Reconnecting with Jill, I gave her simple instructions: wait in cover and hope for a solution to the electricity problem. If for some reason the mercenaries can't get the train to evacuate by morning, my partner will have to solve the problem herself. When the deed is done, she will have to sneak onto the train. The chances of success are there, but they are plus or minus — lousy. There is a dead weight next to Valentine in the person of an old doctor.
— We can't wait. Nathaniel too… Wait, I'm talking, — the girl's tone suddenly changed, after which someone tried to grab the radio from her. I see, an impatient doctor.
— Nathaniel Bard. Who am I talking to? — the man's hoarse voice sounded.
Politeness has never hurt anyone, so I politely disconnected. I never saw the point in answering uncomfortable questions if you can remain silent. When they return the radio, then I can argue with Jill again. But, in fact, she will still act at her own discretion. Headstrong, just like Chris.
Jumping over the partition separating one alley from another, I took a breath and went out into the street. A dangerous street. A strange feeling, as if I'm being aimed at with a sniper rifle. Such a nasty feeling, as if déjà vu was multiplied by itself and raised to the power of infinity. I see, combat experience is screaming about danger.
Making a lightning-fast jump to the side, I barely managed to dodge the shot. I didn't have to guess where it came from: I immediately noticed a suitable building in the distance, to which I instantly headed, spending my energy reserves at a crushing speed. But it was worth it. Moving from one place to another, I managed to get close to the building and began to climb it, using the roughness on the wall and the balconies. Approximately, I spent eight to ten seconds, so the sniper didn't have time to react before I was already approaching him.
— What a curious rat I found, — I greeted the sniper, standing behind him. He tried to react instantly and turn around to shoot, however it would turn out. Alas, it was not in my plans to pierce my fire-scorched coat.
Shooting him in the leg, trying not to hit the bone, I waited until he fell on his side. What should I do with him? I was once interested in football… I should remember the skills. Kicking at an imaginary ball, in the place of which was the rat's belly, I pushed the sniper right to the edge.
— Kha… Wait… Albert, we can still talk, — spitting blood and holding his palm out in front of him, Nikolai Zinoviev, the commander of one of the "Delta" squad units, began to bargain. I am well enough informed about the U.B.C.S. unit, and even better equipped with information about experienced spies — Observers, who are able to collect data in the most extreme conditions. Besides him, there are only ten people worthy of attention.
— Of course, we'll talk, if you don't want a bullet between the eyes, — I threatened, approaching him and crouching down to get a closer look at the offended face of the squad commander. — You're collecting data on Nemesis? So, you were the one who sicked him on my temporary shelter? Your work?
— No, I… damn it. Yes, it's me. So, you're going to kill me? — Nikolai growled angrily, wincing and grimacing in pain. He should already understand, pressing on the bleeding wound, that it is not in my interest to kill him. Not yet.
— Depends on you, — I replied confidently, straightening up and putting my hands behind my back with superiority. — I'm no less interested in data on Umbrella than you are.
— What? You don't want… Just as expected from a traitor, — the mercenary grumbled, finally understanding my motives. — Let's say we unite for a common goal. But how will we split the money? You know, I need a lot of dough. The more greenbacks, the better.
— Nikolai, — I shook my head. — If you only think about money, you might not even get a chance to spend it.
— Are you saying you didn't betray Umbrella for money? — the mercenary was surprised. His facial expressions confirmed my fears: he would sell his own mother for a "Benjamin Franklin," and hand over his children for research if he was paid well for it. It's very difficult to work with such people. The easier a person is to bribe, the easier he is to be outbid.
— With my abilities, I can rob any bank in the world. I don't need money to the same extent that you do, — I replied contemptuously, half-turning to get a better look at the city below. A city on fire, plunged into chaos. A better opportunity to collect information is not foreseen.
— I have three conditions for our cooperation, — I told him. — First: you diligently try to forget any information about me, and even better — to get rid of it for the other Observers. Second: all the accumulated information, and its copies, you transfer to me shortly before you leave. You will maintain contact with me via radio, talking about the progress of the extraction of "Umbrella's minerals" and much more. Third: in case of a violation of the first or second point, I assure you, you can have no doubt, this world will become too small for the two of us. I will find you, no matter where you hide. It's easy to do if you know the structure of your departments: where personal information about employees is stored, where you appear, and where you usually go.
— You bitch, and what will you do with this information? — Nikolai asked angrily, diligently reaching for his pistol, probably just in case.
— Don't sell the data for money, believe me, — I chuckled contemptuously. — I collect it for my research, so any information will be useful to me, including, — after a short pause, I ran my palm in front of me to draw my interlocutor's attention to my calm face. — Garbage information that your meager intellect is not capable of digesting.
— What's in it for me? Just kill me now than in the end, when I'll work like a cow before slaughter, — he said angrily, imagining what kind of shit he had gotten himself into.
— I will try to share interesting information with you to spur you on to do better. Besides, we don't need to meet in person. Just leave the data, say, in the police station behind the reception desk, — I calmly reasoned with him, talking him out of stupid actions. — I will only try to kill you if I don't get anything from you. Your life, you see, is not much different from the life of an insect to me. Do you want to kill all the insects on the planet? Just don't get in my sight, and everything will be fine.
— You bitch, we have a deal, but how will I get my part? — he asked reasonably.
— There's a red car near the police station, pressed against the building opposite the gates, — I shrugged. — I'll leave my part there. I think you'll be interested to know about the inner workings of the management. What happens behind closed doors? It's interesting.
— Well, — he grimaced, trying to bandage his wound. — Okay. You convinced me.
— Of course you didn't convince me. And you want to betray me. But, I hope you won't be so stupid as to waste my time on your elimination, — I threw a threat before jumping down and sliding down the wall to land on the ground without a hitch. Without wasting time, I ran towards the hospital.
On the way there, I contacted Jill again to find out all the necessary information about the synthesis and production of the vaccine in NEST-2. The Second Nest, unlike the first, was focused on researching the base virus and ways to suppress it. Not as much money was allocated to this research complex as to the first one, therefore, it is quite modest in scale. This is to my advantage.
Interestingly: Jill laid out a ready-made route inside the complex, allowing me to quickly get to the documents and the vaccine production machine. The dead zombies didn't bother me — my subordinate had already finished his work on them.
But I had to work hard to get the vaccine production machine activated. Damn it, it feels like a clumsy idiot used it before me! They overloaded it and forgot to add reagents after they left. In simple words: they made a mess and left. Ugh, if I meet them, I'll tear their legs off. Because of these inconveniences, I spent an extra half hour in the lab for the vaccine, trying to fix everything. Fortunately, everything went without incident.
— New specimens?
Leaving the lab, I met some pale zombies in the corridor and was very surprised. Disgusting creatures, as if they were covered in white paint. Limestone? I can't tell by sight, but it looks like tumors.
Moving to one of them, I delivered an enhanced blow to its chest, making a hole there. The force applied was no joke: the zombie flew the entire length of the corridor and was pressed into the wall. The second one was already approaching, but soon joined its brother in ugliness.
What struck me was the monstrous speed with which the holes on their bodies healed. Their organisms devour themselves, healing their wounds with their own biomass. And there are the new genes. Smiling, I went to take the zombies apart into bones and pieces. But I only managed to tear off one head when I heard heavy footsteps behind the wall. What bad luck.
— S.T.A.R.S.
— How do you keep finding me?! — I was outraged, getting away from the grasp of the second pale-faced zombie. As soon as I did this, a furious Nemesis broke through the wall, finding himself a couple of meters away from me. And behind me — a dead end. Funny, what can I say.
— I forgot to check something. Will you wait here a little? I promise to leave you here and not come back, — I made him a good offer, only the creature didn't appreciate it and rushed to push me. Peace in Raccoon City is only a dream. And it's almost dawn, in three hours. Dawn of the Dead. I wonder how the city will change in the sunlight?