Adjusting my sunglasses, which hid my eyes that were too beautiful for this world, I boldly stepped towards the crowd of zombies. What can simple infected people do at this stage if their opponent is of a much higher rank? Only die with dignity while a lady is watching me.
With a lightning-fast movement, borrowed from the arsenal of the Brazilian martial art — capoeira, I spun my leg, sending two rotting creatures back into the crowd at once. The enemy's formation was broken by their comrades who fell on them. This allowed me to take an improvised weapon — a torn-off car part. Not the strongest weapon, but it allowed me to alternate powerful blows with skillful dodges. It was simple: hit the head, retreat, not forgetting to hit someone on the way.
One particularly stubborn zombie didn't wait for its fate. It aimed for my throat from a relatively blind spot, but instead of teeth, it was met with my grab. To do this, I had to part with the bent piece of iron, but it was not a big loss. Grabbing the zombie by the forearm, I, with a crunching sound coming from the bones, turned the arm, using the zombie's rotten flesh against it. Tensing my muscles, I managed to put in enough effort to tear off the arm and use the new weapon against the next enemy. A slap with a third arm…
Throwing such a provocative weapon far away, I adjusted my hairstyle out of shame. And with my normal speed, I began to methodically eliminate all the zombies that approached me. At first there were five, then ten, and only when the battle site was soaked in blood, the flow of new zombies stopped. Interestingly, this coincided with the sun rising higher. It turns out that I spent about twenty minutes on my morning workout.
— You're not bad, — Ada's praise sounded along with the car horn. While I was a little busy, she wisely waited out the troubles in the car. She probably also managed to start it without keys, which is very commendable. But, resorting to Orlov's memories, it became a little awkward for the future of cinematography. It turns out you can use logic, calmly sitting in a car, while someone is showing off at the forefront.
— Nothing special, — showing a cold smile, I confidently went to the car and sat in the front seat.
Ada Wong is my personal driver, and that's not up for debate. Since she stole the car, let her see it through… Convincing myself of this, I struggled to overcome the desire to take the driver's seat from Ada.
— There are fewer and fewer creatures… — she thought, backing up and turning the car to head towards the police station. — Any ideas on how to get into the Hive?
— I prefer to call the lab "Nest," — I decided to object. — But both names contradict each other, although they reflect the meaning.
— In what sense? — the spy supported the conversation, turning down a street and looking around.
— Hives are located in the open air, and nests can be found in tree hollows, caves, rocks, and other protected places. NEST-1 is located underground, — I pointed out the first point. — But, unfortunately, everything else is really taken from a hive. Unlike nests, they require regular maintenance by a person, have an artificial structure, not a natural one.
— You're avoiding the question, — she frowned.
— Why would I? — I chuckled. — NEST-1 is located underground; to get into the artificially created lab, there are many doors in the city. After all, how else can a research complex be provided with resources to maintain it? The simplest paths are at Umbrella's chemical and biological plant. More complex ones are in a secret complex half a kilometer from the police station. There is also access at the warehouse, not far from the hotel. And one suburban bunker with access to NEST-1, but it's only accessible from one side; the passage opens exclusively inside the complex. Hmm, in the sewers there is one way to get into the base, it's for freelance employees — double agents.
— Why… are you telling me all this? — she asked suspiciously.
— Don't have a hundred jobs, but have a hundred friends in a hundred jobs. Who knows when one or another friend will leak data from their job to you? — I made a broad hint at the offer to become my informant, leaking information from the "Organization." If she successfully completes the mission, I will only be happy.
— You're not lacking in arrogance, — she smirked, stopping the car when a crowd of zombies was in the road. They resembled, um, human zombies, trudging to work in the early morning. In a fun round dance, if you only look at their feet, and not at their doomed faces.
And while we were waiting for their migration to end, Jill Valentine tried to contact me. I had no choice but to accept the signal, immediately announcing the complete lack of confidentiality of the conversation. The spy Ada said nothing to this, understanding that it's harmful to know everything in the world. But she still perked up her ears, catching a lot of useful information.
— We got out of the city, but I'm still thinking of going back, — she reported, meaning that the operation to get the doctor and the vaccine out was, on the whole, successful.
My partner doesn't know yet that there are many Umbrella people next to the US president, especially in Congress. The president has nothing to lose: over a hundred thousand people have died; he will resign anyway. Consequently, he may want a comfortable old age and protection from the corporation — from itself. In short, what I mean is: the chances of canceling the nuclear strike have increased by forty percent. From zero. Umbrella is eager to destroy all evidence.
— Is "it" with you? — I asked veiledly.
— Yeah, everything's fine. But here… There are too many military personnel, and I can't contact the government. They're deliberately slowing us down, — she said warily through the noisy radio. — And yes, I contacted "him." He will be here within sixteen hours.
— My talented subordinate is at it again, — I smirked at the mention of Chris. — Keep your eyes open, soldier; you could be killed. Umbrella has its own people in the government and among the military. And don't forget about the doctor; he's our important witness. He needs to be alive to give testimony.
— Understood, — she cut the connection and changed the frequency.
The collapse of the red and white umbrella is getting closer. We have a witness to their evil deeds surrounded by numerous military personnel. But the soldiers are just chaff. Bard is under the protection of a combat unit of the "Alpha" squad! Jill Valentine is an excellent bodyguard: she saved herself in the Spencer Mansion, so she will somehow ensure the safety of Nathaniel Bard.
Chris is far from the center of events: sixteen hours is too long to count on him. But if Valentine holds out, she will get a good support. And after Raccoon City, the national heroes who obtained and preserved the antidote will certainly put in a good word for their former captain. After all, I fought against Nemesis.
Ugh, even if they keep silent, are stubborn, or are ungrateful subordinates…
No big deal. The main thing is to put more pressure on Umbrella: the more pain, the better for us. The faster I get rid of my former employer, the faster I form my own lab for virus research. Uh, hiding behind the creation of a company to combat bioterrorism. "To defeat the enemy, you must understand him." This slogan is easy to manipulate the public with for one's own interests.
— Are you up to something?
— Something like that, — opening the glove compartment of the car, I found documents, all kinds of them and now useless. A pen lay next to them, and the back of the documents allowed me to make notes about Umbrella's inner workings for Nikolai. I try to work relatively honestly with my business partners so that they continue to thank me until the end of time. Since I promised information for information, I'll try to do everything in the best way.
— What are you writing? — Ada asked slyly, trying to peek.
— Just don't copy, — I joked. — And if you do copy, don't do it verbatim.
— Very funny, — she sighed, starting the car and stepping on the gas when the zombies had passed. — But, if you want to tell me, I won't object.
— This is my confession. Once I was wrong, but I corrected myself. In those distant years, when there was no general crisis and intercontinental collapse yet, when a mysterious organization for the production and distribution… — I actively drove over her interest, like a bulldozer over a new building that didn't meet construction requirements.
— Wait, um, I get it, I won't ask what you're writing anymore, — Ada rolled her eyes, but judging by her sincere smile, the situation didn't annoy her. On the contrary, the dumber the jokes are in a crisis, the faster they bring lonely people, who are up to their necks in shit, closer together. — But then, where did you get the power of a Tyrant?
— To better discuss this issue, we first need to recall the history of the War of Independence, — I suggested, getting a categorical shake of her head. — Then we won't be able to discuss it; my story will be devoid of many important details. After all, I declared a war of independence against Umbrella. So, there really are no other options.
— Ah, wait, if so… — she was late to realize.
— The train has left, — I concluded arrogantly, getting a click of the tongue from my interlocutor. — Brake!
She braked sharply, just in time, otherwise the police spikes could have led to an accident. Who in their right mind blocks roads for peaceful citizens? Maybe another order from the crazy police chief? It's strange, if so, why are there announcements on the loudspeaker about gathering all survivors at the police station…
— Ha, they made it…
— Our stop, — I sighed, opening the car door and getting out, finding myself right in front of a clothing store.
Looking down at my bloody clothes, I winced and headed inside the store with a wide range of men's and women's clothing. Ada Wong followed, because our cooperation is built on compromises. Hmm, she chose two sets of clothes with abnormal speed, which made me blink a couple of times. The perfect woman exists! We came to the store, and she immediately took a red dress, a set of stockings, and flat sports shoes. As a second set, an inconspicuous raincoat, a sweater, pants, and sneakers. Well, she's unpretentious in her choice of clothes, but in a way she's practical.
I was looking for a dark suit, men's gloves, shoes, and a thin turtleneck. Everything harmonized and perfectly combined with each other. It took me fifteen minutes to choose, of course, but the wait was worth the excellent look. Of course, I'm perfect in any clothes; it's just that I'm a little better in some.
— I should check other combinations, — I nodded to my desire, adjusting my sunglasses, but I ran into my partner's indignant face. Hmm, because of my enhanced metabolism, after dealing with the crowd of zombies, I can understand her. The city is swarming with zombies, bloodthirsty for human guts, destroying any survivors. But we, as surviving people, are obliged to eat for all of them. While we have something to eat. — But, a snack wouldn't hurt. There's a suitable place near the police station…
— We can't! — she sharply interrupted, which made me barely suppress a mocking smile.
— Right, there's no point in waiting so long. There's a shopping mall nearby where Umbrella operatives were last located. Who knows, maybe we'll not only have lunch, but also get some rest, and at the same time grab some weapons against the monsters.
— You wanted to get weapons from the very beginning and went from a bigger "no" to a smaller "it's better than it was," huh? — Leaning against the wall and crossing her arms, she made an interesting assumption based on dry facts.
— I'm improvising, — I calmly avoided the answer, heading towards the exit.
There were few zombies; they had all settled in dark places, hiding from the sunlight. Since the shopping mall consists of eighty percent reinforced windows, zombies will choose it last of all. There we can take a breath, if possible, find out the fate of the operatives from Umbrella's bioterrorism countermeasure service, and prepare for a marathon at the police station. Soon we will find out what the reporter dug up on Umbrella; if it's something useful, we'll privatize it, and if not… We'll run to the chemical plant faster.
Ada was not far behind, because with me she was certainly safer than alone. And no one in Raccoon City knows more about Umbrella than I do; with me, you can get into even the most secret corners of NEST-1. Well, you could have before the Red Queen blocked my access, but I'll figure something out.
Already thinking about and savoring the moment of destroying Umbrella's servers, I, along with Ada, made my way to the shopping mall. The walk was boring; the only dangers were the sleeping zombies lying in the shade. If you step on them, they can bite back. When I told the girl about this, she became more cautious.
— We've arrived, — examining the four-story complex, which was visible from all sides, I smiled. If there are survivors there, their lookouts found out about our appearance. Well, if they're inattentive, then the sound of breaking glass reminded them of our arrival. The survivors had barricaded the entire first floor, but I made my way to the second. With just one high jump.
Turning to the girl, looking at her from the second floor, I wondered if she could climb up. She couldn't. It took a little effort to widen the passage, getting rid of the glass, to jump down and look at Ada expectantly.
Raising both hands, I smiled arrogantly. She looked me straight in the eyes, but as soon as that gaze lingered, she looked away. Ada even lost control, not finding a place for herself. I felt how she wanted to say something, but was clearly shy. She wanted to do something, but held herself back. She couldn't decide to come closer. In essence, it was a bright game of cat and mouse that amused me.
— Should we look for an alternative path? — she suggested with a slight apprehension.
— The promotion is valid only once, — I offered, to which she reluctantly agreed. I haven't held a girl in my arms in a long time, and, in fact, I've never jumped to the second floor with a lady.
After the jump, she immediately got down, adjusting her coat with one hand, while still holding the shopping bag with the other. Now that's what I call a date with a femme fatale in the most dangerous city on Earth. There's something romantic about it.
— Can you stop smiling with such superiority? — she asked, turning to me.
— That's impossible, — I answered without a second thought, heading to the stairs to the next floors. On the way, we met dead zombies from bullet wounds. The mercenaries did a good job of clearing the building, but not well enough. I wanted to train against long-range fighters, but, unfortunately, they got ahead of me.
On the fourth floor, the mercenaries were already dead, or rather, they were staggering around the floor. A Licker, apparently, killed them. The creature was hiding on the ceiling, in a corner, away from the sunlight. If you sniff, there's a living person in the toilet… hmm, a living person. The stronger the hunger, the more clearly I sense people.
Ada aimed at the Licker, and I prepared for a quick dash to the aimlessly wandering dead men. The sun's rays were shielded from them by their uniforms, which were also quite durable.
Closing the distance, I used a funny technique called "Five Fists of Bodhidharma." A rare martial art, for an amateur, but effective for using elbows, knees, and palms. With minimal effort, all enemy fighters fell, and were then crushed by heel kicks. At that moment, the Licker was activated, but Ada Wong timed it perfectly and shot it in the brain area. One bullet was not enough, so, until the creature recovered after a failed jump and fall, the spy needed to put a whole clip into the monster. Not a single miss. Yes, she's a sniper.
Damn, I was grabbed by the leg! The zombie was unlucky that it was only one. Sharply pulling my leg away, I finished off the fallen creature and moved on to another. Oh, I haven't done aikido in a long time, using grabs against the opponent. Fortunately, it took minimal effort, and by deftly throwing opponents, I managed not to get my new clothes dirty. And, the last zombie operative without an arm and a helmet — it was simple with him. My ally shot him.
— You took a long time, — she noted, examining the corpses of ten operatives.
— You're not you when you're hungry, — I frowned. — I propose we celebrate our joint debut. But first, let's collect weapons from the dead and check who is hiding in the toilet.
— Is someone hiding there? — she aimed at the restroom, as if a zombie could jump out of there at any moment.
— A living person, — I sniffed. — A woman.
— It seems the rumors about you were understated… — she shook her head, and we went together to the mysterious survivor.