Chapter 17: Containment Protocol Part 1
A few minutes later, the elevator came to a stop with a muffled clank. The doors slid open outward to the cool dawn, revealing a steep cliff bathed in golden morning light. Dawn's glow painted the sky in shades of orange and purple. In the distance, among the trees, the entire training complex was collapsing in on itself. A great explosion had ripped through the heart of the facility, sending a column of fire towering into the sky. Below them, the building crumbled in slow motion. The Training Center… was gone.
Rebecca watched the devastation in silence. For a moment, the forest around them remained serene, as though nothing had happened. Birds chirped in the treetops, their melodies oblivious to the carnage below. Nearby, Richard let his rifle slip from his numb fingers and collapsed onto the dew-slick grass, the cold blade of a rock cutting into his back. He sagged there, exhausted, while Rebecca gently lowered herself to sit by his side.
The air was cool and damp, and Dawn's first light painted the sky in a deep orange glow. Above them, the clouds caught fire with the sunrise. They sat together on the hillside, watching clouds of dust and smoke billow from the wreckage. A silence settled between them, broken only by the distant snap of burning timber. Neither spoke. The horror of what had just happened clung to them as surely as the early morning cold.
Finally Rebecca broke the silence with a quiet question. "What do we do now?"
Richard lifted his gaze to the mountains on the horizon. The night's adrenaline was fading, leaving in its wake a bone-deep exhaustion. He sighed. "Now… we find a way out of here," he answered, voice flat with fatigue.
She nodded slowly. The world around them had turned upside down, but she refused to let hope die. "If things went according to plan," she said softly, "then somebody should have sent a rescue team. By now, they should be on their way."
He offered a faint, tired smile. It was a thin attempt at reassurance. "I just hope they get here soon," he said, forcing a wry chuckle. "After all this…I could sleep for a week straight."
Richard's words hung in the cool air as the forest resumed its morning chorus. For a few tense moments, nature carried on around them like nothing had changed. Then, far off in the distance, a low mechanical hum began to grow louder, slicing through the silence. Rebecca shot up, hand gripping Richard's shoulder. Her eyes followed the sound. "Look!" she whispered urgently.
Above the distant treetops, sunlight gleaming off its rotor blades, appeared a STARS reconnaissance helicopter. It had spotted them circling the valley, undoubtedly drawn by the thermal signature of the explosion that had just obliterated the Training Center. The chopper banked and circled slowly, coming closer in spirals.
Richard scrambled to his feet and pressed himself against a nearby rock. His fingers fumbled in his belt pouch for the emergency flare he'd packed before descending. "Here…" he muttered. With shaking hands he struck a spark against the flare's igniter. "We're here, dammit… here!"
The flare flared to life in a blaze of red light, cutting through the dawn's dimness. Its torch-like glow lit up the cliffside in a harsh glare. Almost immediately, the helicopter turned toward them. The downdraft from the rotors whipped up leaves and grass, and the chopper began a slow, careful descent toward the makeshift landing zone near the edge of the cliff.
Moments later, a thick rope ladder was lowered over the side of the helicopter. Two figures in dark uniforms rappelled down with practiced speed. The small circle of light from the flare revealed them clearly: Joseph Frost and Brad Vickers of STARS Alpha Team, bearing the team's emblem on their gear. They landed lightly on the ground, weapons at the ready, faces alert.
Joseph was the first to speak as he radioed in their discovery. "We've got two survivors!" his voice crackled over the comms. "Female, young, still armed — male, wounded, likely in shock!"
Rebecca was the first to be pulled up the ladder. Brad reached for her with a steady hand, helping her one rung at a time. She felt strong arms supporting her as she ascended, and relief flooded her exhausted body.
Richard followed seconds later, stepping onto the rungs with shaking legs. The ropes swayed as he climbed, every muscle trembling. Above, the wind whipped the blood and sweat on his face, drying it into gritty streaks. Joseph peered over at him once he was safely inside the cabin, eyes narrowing as he took in Richard's bloodied uniform and ragged appearance. "What happened down there?" he demanded, concern edging his tone.
Richard met Joseph's gaze with tired eyes. He had no energy for details, but the name that came to his lips carried weight. "Umbrella," he said hoarsely.
Joseph exchanged a brief, knowing glance with Brad. There was no need for more words. In that look, Richard sensed everything — fear, anger, disbelief. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to focus on the here and now.
Soon the helicopter banked away from the smoking ruins. Rebecca pressed her forehead against the glass window beside her seat, looking out over the devastation they'd left behind. From this height she could see it all clearly now: charred concrete, twisted metal beams, flames licking at the wreckage. The whole complex was collapsing inward on itself. Nothing would remain standing.
"That building," Richard said from the seat across the aisle, voice soft, "is gone. All of it." He sat quietly next to Rebecca, wrapping one arm around himself, staring grimly ahead.
Rebecca drew in a shaky breath. "Do you think…will any of this make anyone do something? You know, about Umbrella or this attack?"
He looked past her, at the endless line of hills beyond the city limits. After a long pause, he said, "I don't know."
For several long seconds there was only the hum of the helicopter and the distant chaos behind them. Then Richard turned back to her, his face resolute in the dim cabin light. "But since we're still alive," he said, voice low but determined, "we have a chance to find out."
She met his eyes and nodded. The spark of determination in his expression spread to her. They had survived the impossible, and now they had each other. Perhaps they could use that to their advantage, if only they could stay alive and free long enough.
As the helicopter angled toward Raccoon City, it bore them away from the inferno behind them. Below the rotor blades, the forest and smoke-plumed sky turned into rolling fields and the outskirts of town. In that moment of flight, Rebecca finally let herself relax just a fraction — just enough to hope.
They touched down almost silently on a concealed helipad outside Raccoon City's central hospital. Richard blinked sleep from his eyes as the helicopter's ramp opened. He and Rebecca expected to see the familiar uniforms and faces of STARS headquarters personnel. Instead, two men in plain civilian suits waited on the pad. The men didn't carry weapons or greet them; they simply stood with arms folded, clipboards in hand and shoulders set stiffly.
One of the suited men offered the pilot a curt nod. "Remove them from the helicopter immediately," he said flatly, never once glancing at Richard or Rebecca.
The pilot gestured politely to Richard first. "Aye, sir," he said, and Richard slid down the rope ladder to solid ground. He was shaky, muscles exhausted, and there was dried blood and dirt on his face from earlier injuries. Heart pounding, he stepped away from the chopper.
Rebecca followed quickly behind, a thermal rescue blanket draped over her shoulders, its foil lining warm against the chill morning air. One of the men had wrapped it around her without a word, then stepped back to watch them go.
Richard cleared his throat, concern tightening in his chest. "Where's the medical team?" he asked, but nobody answered.
Instead, the two men signaled to a couple of armed guards standing nearby. Without a word, the guards fell in beside them and ushered Richard and Rebecca toward a narrow corridor. There were no windows in the dim hallway, only glaring fluorescent lights above. The men in suits flanked them on either side, each with an unreadable expression. Richard noticed the guards' uniforms were plain black, lacking any STARS insignia he recognized.
"This isn't rescue protocol," Richard muttered under his breath as they marched down the corridor. He glanced at Rebecca's face; she was staring at the blank white cinderblock wall across from them. Neither of them had ever expected to be treated like detainees.
Before long, a sign on the wall confirmed their suspicions: Raccoon City Hospital – Basement Level 1. The guards ushered them into a small medical observation room. The place was sterile to the point of being oppressive: white tiles, a pair of stainless steel gurneys, and a single fluorescent light that hummed quietly overhead. It smelled faintly of disinfectant and cold metal. The only furnishings were a small cart with medical instruments and a camera mounted high in the corner, its lens swiveling silently.
A nurse in a crisp white uniform entered the room and gave them a brief, unreadable look. Without even giving them a patient bracelet, she said in a low, emotionless voice, "Please remain here. Doctor Huxley will see you soon." Then she closed the door and left.
Richard let out a shaky breath as the latch clicked shut. He turned back to Rebecca. "This isn't a rescue," he hissed, eyes darting to the mirror behind which someone might be observing them. "This is containment."
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