The check of the restroom ended with unexpected findings. We discovered a young girl, one of the few survivors. Not a regular resident of Raccoon City. Paradoxically, the stranger was connected to Umbrella.
To speak in images, I have always been an active participant in many of the "bloody umbrella's" plans. A lot of information about the pharmaceutical company's activities, its atrocities, secrets, and mysteries has accumulated in my head. Everyone who was connected with it, as a rule, has already taken root in my head. Therefore, I listened with pleasure to the story of the mysterious stranger who fell into Spencer's cunning plans.
And so that her story would not be told in such a scummy place as a women's restroom, we went down to the third floor. There was a fast-food restaurant, a perfect place to quickly arrange snacks and drinks. Of course, as a true gentleman, I put forward my candidacy for the role of chef.
After all, with a good lunch, any bloody story becomes more interesting.
The ladies agreed, which I was incredibly happy about. I immediately went to the kitchen, found some raw meat, and truly ate. Other food wasn't suitable; from the pizza I had eaten earlier, I only got irritation and dulled my hunger. And the raw meat helped me fully recover. It's like a first-aid kit in video games or a powerful steroid. To each their own, I call it a natural need. The main thing is not to eat in front of ladies.
When lunch for the girls was ready, I had already managed to get my fill, serving two trays of food to the table. And I sat down next to them, holding a drink in my hands.
— According to you, you're an experienced hacker, — I partially repeated her story. — One of the few who managed to hack into Umbrella's database and get evidence from there?
I sipped my cola, keeping a calm expression on my face. My voice was no less soothing, one might say, pleasant for those around me. A good result of long training sessions that a specialist in espionage assigned me.
— Almost, — she clarified. — I got most of the data from the Raccoon City Police Department. I was hired by a reporter for the local newspaper "News Comet," who promised a generous reward for evidence against the damned corporation.
I squinted for a moment, remembering where I had heard similar slogans.
"Damned corporations." Something from Night City? I remember that board game.
— And what happened next? — Ada asked, showing no less interest in the new informant than I did. Surprisingly, the Asian spy was looking more at the food, not showing much attention to her interlocutor. Well, well, I saw in her eyes that she wanted to ask more important questions: "what did you dig up," "will you give me a copy voluntarily," "do you want to work for us as bait." She wanted to, but she hid it well. Patience is an excellent quality.
— It seems the reporter was caught, and he turned me in, — the hacker continued with pride in her voice, as if she couldn't have been caught otherwise. — They took us somewhere underground, to a complex, um, NEST-2. My friend and I managed to get out, but, then… In the city, she was bitten, and I… I hid here, next to… Sorry, can we not talk about this anymore?
— It's all right, — Ada said reassuringly. Although, knowing her, the spy was indifferent to the stranger's feelings. — Albert, do you know anything?
— Before I answer, allow me to ask you one question. What's your name? — I addressed the girl, ignoring Ada's question. Not the smartest decision, because the femme fatale demanded much more attention to herself, and looked much better than the poor girl. Ada was distinguished by her sophistication and grace. She's the kind of girl who knows her worth.
In contrast to her, the unknown blonde preferred a rebellious style: a short green T-shirt, a leather jacket, latex pants, and boots. In terms of appearance, she had light hair, a pretty face, and brown eyes. Her character, probably, matched her appearance — a young rebel.
— January Van Sant, — she introduced herself. — For friends, just Jan.
— January, — I smiled. — You're a hacker, right? How experienced are you? Imagine that you're next to Umbrella's servers, whose data is protected by artificial intelligence. Can you steal the information?
— Can I disable the protection and steal the data? Yes, easily, — she spoke boastfully, demonstrating either her confidence or her abilities. — Some psycho trapped us, releasing various monsters on us. If I hadn't hacked the cameras and doors, we all would have died. Even before anyone could have said…
— Quiet, — I interrupted her harmlessly, an emotional outburst that irritated my ears. — Everything has passed now. I'm Albert. This is my companion — Ada. Together we are looking for evidence of Umbrella's guilt in this terrible event. We want to stop it so that no one else gets hurt. And we'll be happy if you help us get evidence against it.
— It's better to wait for the rescuers, — Jan broke free from the hook, finishing her snack. And since that's the case, I have no choice but to drop a real bomb. Is it a sin to catch fish with bombs? Well, who will judge me?
— It's very difficult to get out of the city, — Ada reported, getting ahead of me. — You're stupid and naive if you think someone needs you. There are a hundred thousand infected people in the city; there are simply no chances that everything will work out for you. Even if you miraculously get out of here, and go your own way… Then where are the guarantees that a similar incident won't happen in another city? If you want to live — stop Umbrella. Help us do it.
Ugh, I wanted to threaten her with a nuclear bomb the old-fashioned way. The fear of all Americans, it always worked, ever since the Cold War. But, on the other hand, you can also put pressure on their conscience. It's just that fear makes people's eyes big; people help more readily when they're shaking with fear. The horror of a repeat disaster is too insignificant. Jan can go to a village, giving the middle finger to metropolises where, potentially, a catastrophe will repeat itself.
— Damn it, — the hacker flared up emotionally. — Fine, I'll help.
— In that case, — Ada said thoughtfully, looking at me. — What did you want to say about NEST-2?
— January Van Sant, — I repeated the girl's full name without stuttering, which pleasantly surprised her. — Got into an awkward situation. NEST-2 is focused on developing methods to counteract viruses, the complete opposite of NEST-1. But, since the catastrophe began, there was a race to get ahead and collect promotional material. Probably, someone in the second nest organized "hunger games."
My smile widened.
— Hunger games?
— Yes, that's them, — I confirmed, enjoying the expectant look of the Asian beauty. A real cutie, I just want to tease her. — They connected cameras, prepared the infected, threw in survivors and tools to counteract them. Everything to collect data on the samples, to film the biological weapon in action. Of course, what won't capitalists do to advertise a product to various terrorist organizations?
— Bastards! — Jan abruptly got up from the table. — It's not enough to sue them; they need to be killed!
I like this girl more and more. If her skills are good, and besides luck she has a brain, then I will definitely recruit the hacker to my team. I desperately need a specialist in new technologies and networks, who will devote time to development in this area. Now it's easy for me to get network information, but in the future, it will be difficult without Jan. My fight is not just against Umbrella; it's against their life's work.
Why do you need competitors if you can get rid of them?
— Don't waste your energy on anger. This is just my assumption, based on your story and information about the location of the "experiment," — I asked her to calm down. — The whole truth can only be found in NEST-1 — their main laboratory.
— Then why are we sitting here? We need to act!
— Hmm, — Ada drew attention to herself, taking out her phone. — We have a little time, six hours to sleep. Then we'll have to act at an accelerated pace.
— But we can't! — Jan objected. — If they erase the data, then…
— The catastrophe happened a week ago; if they could have cleaned something, they would have already done so, — I shook my head. — If Bard's observations are correct, then the widespread strain of the virus infects nine out of ten people. The chances of surviving a bite are one in ten. But we should not rely on luck; we must avoid the creatures, and for that we need a healthy reaction. Alas, the reaction of a sleepy fly is not a good thing.
— Albert means to say: if you want to live, don't dally, — Ada told her, yawning mockingly. — I'm going to the lounge area.
— If a dead man or an operative appears, I'll hear it in advance, — I reminded her, showing a confident smile. Ada smiled at this, understanding what I was getting at.
— I didn't say I was planning to sleep alone, did I? — a provocative hint that expands or narrows the boundaries of our relationship. Although now is not the best time to test endurance, it's better to get closer in advance. It's enough to simply be in the field of view; it's easier to build long-lasting relationships that allow you to control a partner's loyalty.
Getting up and beckoning the new companion, I went to the staff lounge. No beds, just chairs arranged around a table. Not the best place to sleep, but better than nothing.
We sat next to each other, probably getting ready for our last rest in this city. The situation is already on the edge. If the zombies run out of food, they will soon begin to migrate to other cities. And the second problem: at the current stage, the use of a vaccine or the sending of rescue teams — all this is meaningless.
But my actions cannot be called in vain anyway. There is nothing left to destroy in Raccoon City; everything is dead, but Umbrella is still breathing. With the T-virus vaccine, we will cut off the oxygen to the influential corporation. We will deprive it of a solid share of tempting offers.
Slogans like: "a virus for which there is no cure" and "this will help defeat the states" — will lose their relevance. The price of biological weapons will fall, which will lead to a crisis in the production of new virus strains.
"The corporation's collapse is getting closer," — with this wonderful thought, I fell asleep, waking up several times because of Jan.
The hacker took a seat not far from me and Ada. Very close, right near my ear, so that her painful groans from nightmares would be clearly heard. But you can't blame a normal person for this. Jan has gone through a lot of shit in NEST-2 — such an excuse is able to hide my irritation and the desire to throw the irritant out the window.
We woke up closer to the evening, having managed to rest and gain new strength for great achievements. We borrowed a lot of weapons from the dead Umbrella operatives. In addition to firearms, some knives and a couple of grenades, we only refused body armor. I don't need body armor; Ada is focused on agility and maneuverability, and our hacker — she doesn't need extra weight. Her task, in case of a threat, is to stay in the rear, helping to shoot zombies. Fast feet are a priority, and working out the absence of risks is presented by hacking everything.
My mood was only slightly spoiled when I had to help the girls get down from the second floor to the street. I literally felt like a delivery man for chicks, which wasn't too pleasing — the work of a courier is not the peak of my dreams.
Fortunately, it was much easier for the three of us. Ada shot accurately, and Jan grabbed compact hacking equipment from NEST-2, which allowed us to make our route safer and shorter. If the blonde continues to calculate safe routes from the city's cameras and hack warehouses for quick transitions — she can even be carried in my arms.
In general, the spirit of exploiting female labor woke up in me.
I haven't paid anything yet, and the hacker is already being useful. If Jan continues to work for me and my achievements, then such a person should be recruited at any cost. The further into the future, the more network espionage will be required to achieve all goals. Hiring someone from the outside is tedious; uninitiated people will have to be eliminated, and keeping a loyal person with the right talents close to you is simply excellent.
— We're almost at the police station, — Ada came closer to me and started a conversation, in a whisper, choosing a moment of privacy. She wants to talk about the new companion behind her back; I understand. — Are you sure she can be trusted?
— I thought you knew the interrogation method better. She told her story emotionally, without contradictions and inconsistencies, — stepping over a zombie, I pointed out the first point. — With her, we will destroy the Red Queen — an artificial intelligence that can ruin our plans.
— We could blow up the servers, — Ada Wong suggested an alternative.
— From NEST-1, we will attack all the repositories of the network plague. If we only touch the trunk of the tree, we will let the infection spread. The Red Queen will not disappear, but only weaken. This is unacceptable. As long as the protective AI exists, Umbrella will fight off network attacks, — I said with malice. — We will strike right at the heart. We just need to find out if it is enough to strike from NEST-1 at all the cells of its existence. After all, the sooner we get rid of this nasty thing, the faster all hacker groups and governments of all countries will expose the corporation's activities. Perhaps they will even get to the customers of bioweapons to arrange a couple of purges among terrorists. It will benefit our plans if we launch a chain reaction that will destroy the rotten program.
— You talk about the Red Queen as your worst enemy, — Ada noted.
— This is the way, — adjusting my glasses, I answered. — Erasing everyone who goes against my plans. But always supporting those who are ready to support me.
— Either with you or against you. There is no third option? — she ironized, asking a question that didn't need to be answered. Everything is already obvious.
And, talking in a whisper with Ada, I noticed that the hacker was listening carefully. She had good hearing, I hope she heard the whole conversation, since it was entirely fake. I need to consolidate two things in the minds of my entourage as soon as possible: "I hate Umbrella" and "it's safe to be on the same side as me."
While these thoughts were being strengthened, we managed to get through several streets of the infected city, almost reaching the police station. But without reaching our goal, I opened the door of a red car, where I threw a piece of paper. This was payment for the information; now I can look for a gesture of goodwill from Nikolai, right behind the reception desk in the department.
Hmm… The zombies are still sleeping. But you need to be more careful; these creatures are a little blind, but they hear well. Carefully moving towards the gate, I watched carefully what the girls were doing. They repeated my steps and path exactly, trying not to make noise. Excellent, the useful companions were not acting to my detriment. They calmly and submissively followed me.
Now the metal gate, then the door, and…
— Interesting, — I evaluated the rearrangement in the large hall of the department with surprise.
Someone had isolated many doors in half a day. Now we will have to break them down. Fortunately, with my strength, we will quickly get to both the police chief and the reporter. And most importantly, I will understand whether I need to tear out Nikolai's spine or record him in the ranks of "people useful to me."