The third underground floor met us with open arms, but those arms belonged to vicious infected. Dozens of zombies, hearing the sound of the descending elevator, took it as a signal to start their feast. They rushed at us in a crowd. However, upon encountering a fiery volley, the mutants quickly fell, like brave warriors under a hail of arrows. My squad is invincible! They are ready to tear the arms off anyone who approaches with unfriendly hugs.
— We are running out of ammo, — Claire frowned.
— I have my last magazine, — Ada admitted anxiously.
— You guys still have ammo? — Jan asked sheepishly.
— And where does ammo come from? — Sherry asked innocently.
The mercenary looked through the red filters of her gas mask lenses, and from the slight trembling, it was clear that she was angry at her "invincible comrades" who found themselves in an awkward position without ammunition. Fortunately, we won't have to clear the entire third floor.
I am well acquainted with the layout of this floor. And I can find the right laboratory by the characteristic smells of phenol, formaldehyde, and ether. Here, if one desired, one could even go wild and cook "meth," but zombies, as practice has shown, are not the best customers.
No jokes, in this section, you can create and "cook" practically anything.
Among the multitude of corridors, through the protective glass, one could see laboratory setups, computers, and cutting-edge technology for various research in the field of genetic engineering. However, access to many areas is restricted, as this is where scientists unraveled the secrets of nature, experimenting with viruses, creating new life forms, and erasing the boundaries of scientific ethics.
— Attention! — the voice of the artificial intelligence sounded as we approached the desired location. — Intruders detected in Zone D-3.
— Can you hack her? — I asked, addressing our hacker. — That's the Red Queen, a key element of the security system. If you manage to hack her and infect her with a virus that spreads to all her copies, it will be a big step towards defeating "Umbrella."
— I'm already working on it, — the girl replied tensely, quickly running her finger across the tablet's electronic keyboard. — But we should head to the fourth level. There is a terminal for direct interaction with her. If that doesn't work… Wait… There's a terminal on the very bottom level as well, — she opened the map and began to zoom in. — There! If I connect to the Director's computer, she will be finished!
— The Director's computer…
— It's on the first floor, — Jan happily informed.
On the way back, we can attack the Red Queen, which seems like a very promising plan. There is no point in descending to the very lowest levels, as there are many experimental zones with extremely dangerous G-virus samples. All of them are intermediate versions and far from perfect; their virus is uncontrolled and full of vulnerabilities.
— Shall we hurry? — Ada suggested.
I nodded and quickened my pace toward the necessary door. I wanted to break it down, but Jan intervened, unlocking the electronic lock. Why bother with fingerprints when there's a skilled hacker nearby? I always dreamed of subordinates capable of performing all the dirty work, leaving me only matters of laboratory importance.
Entering the staff area, I seriously addressed the team: — You are all ladies, and your female curiosity may awaken, but I ask you not to enter the biohazard zone unless you want to end up with extra limbs.
After the warning, I headed from the preparation room to a special airlock — an intermediate place between the dirty world and the sterile zone of the specialized laboratory. Here, one can place the G-virus sample in a special container and put on a protective suit over the clothing. Then enter the cabin for post-suit processing, and there — the door to the laboratory opened.
The laboratory looked neat: everything was laid out in its place, the equipment was undamaged, and even the table was in place, allowing me to set the container with the G-virus sample on it.
Now I can start working:
First, it is necessary to carefully study the sample under a microscope. If I don't note all the changes in the cellular structure caused by the G-virus, I might accidentally create a new strain. Fortunately, everything remained within the norm — Birkin hadn't yet managed to change the virus beyond recognition.
I carefully extracted a small fragment of tissue, placed it in a Petri dish, and began the extraction: using a pipette, I injected a reagent into the dish. The transparent liquid slowly washed the fragment, gradually turning a murky-green color. But here's the problem: yellowish lines appeared, which should not have been there…
I am not an expert on the G-virus; William was the one who worked on it, striving to gain recognition and surpass Alexia Ashford. She was a descendant of one of Umbrella's founders. She graduated from university at ten and was named the best scientist in genetics. William was outraged when the ten-year-old snot-nosed girl was appointed Chief Scientific Officer. Not for connections, but for her genius intellect. William himself, whose tissues I am now examining, joined Umbrella at sixteen and was considered a genius. However, the ten-year-old girl surpassed him, greatly humiliating him in front of colleagues. He loved to boast that he was the smartest person in the world. And yet…
As for me, I am perfect in every way and never compare myself to others. A cat doesn't care how many smart rats block its path. The cat will live, and the rats will become its food.
Alexia was declared dead in 1983, but the circumstances of her death remain unclear. Very suspicious. After settling some matters — I will have to visit Rockfort Island. Each of Umbrella's founders developed a unique strain of the T-virus. Important clues might remain on the island.
But that's later.
— Purify the solution, — I murmured, placing it in the centrifuge. Under the action of centrifugal force, the G-virus separated from the other components, forming a tiny green precipitate at the bottom of the test tube.
I took the test tube and used a spectrophotometer to measure the optical density of the solution to determine the concentration of the G-virus.
— Not bad, — I nodded, transferring the sample into a sealed ampoule and placing it in a cryogenic container.
One was ready; now I needed to prepare the rest for my friends and for sale. I need initial capital, and why not take it from the nearest shelf? I see no problem in the possible emergence of a zombie apocalypse due to my actions. I wonder who will pay more: the West, East, South, or North?
Holding the last sample in my hands, I removed the top of the sealed suit — another violation of the security protocol, followed by a third: direct virus absorption. My blood had recently adapted to the mutagens, but the tension did not leave me. However, no pain or effect followed. The virus began to break down inside my stomach.
And… damn it, I barely managed to grab the edge of the table on which the loosely closed container stood.
Before losing consciousness, I straightened up, went to the container, and closed it. Now I could stumble to the wall and slowly slide down it to the floor. The sensation was strange, as if someone had poured molten oil into me. A strange taste appeared in my mouth, and my body was burning from within.
— I won't grow tentacles, will I? — I said aloud as my vision darkened.
Remaining in a semi-daze, I felt like I couldn't even move a finger.
Complete loss of control — a nasty feeling.
But soon I felt a surge of strength, as if after a hard workout when you fall, only to gradually recover and feel stronger. Strength filled my body, allowing me not only to regain consciousness but also to open my eyes, and even stand up. Not like before, but like the ruler of a new world.
— Damn it, — I hissed, leaning against the wall and spitting out bile. — I knew the G-virus was the product of an ugly upstart.
Speak of the dead either well, or very badly, because they sometimes make mistakes in life. William Birkin created a terrible virus that turned me inside out.
Fully dressing in the protective suit again and taking the container, I headed for the exit. The security system performed a scan and, finding no signs of infection, allowed me to pass into the cabin, then into the airlock, and stumble to my crew.
— I'm finished, all samples are in the container, — I happily announced, picking up the container with the samples and placing it next to the spy. Then I began to take off the special suit.
— Two hours have passed, — Ada reported. — Pretty fast.
— Really? — asked Claire, sitting in the corner and playing with Sherry. — It felt long to me. And, hey, hey… Wait, you were working in sunglasses?
— That's not important, — I answered evasively, finishing removing the suit. — Where are the mercenary and our hacker?
— They conferred for a long time but still went to the fourth floor so as not to waste time, — Ada looked closely at the container. — It seems you know how to persuade Umbrella employees. I didn't think mercenaries would work for you. For free.
Few people would refuse to work for me when there is a threat of a broken neck.
So, Lady HUNK is helping the hacker crack the Red Queen. That's good; it was difficult to predict, but…
The TV turned on; red-blue static flickered on the screen — like in a cheap horror movie made for a pack of crackers that only collected road dust as box office revenue. Then the static was replaced by the image of a twelve-year-old girl with black hair. If she says I'll die in seven days, that will be quite offensive.
— Albert Wesker! Immediately stop your people. If my security protocols are attacked, I will initiate the complex's self-destruct system, — she threatened in the voice of a hysterical girl.
— Ladies, could you step out for a minute? Especially the children, — I asked with a benevolent smile, asking them to take the container and leave. Ada initially wanted to stay, but eventually followed the others. This allowed me to close the door and ensure the soundproofing.
Turning to the Red Queen, I took a deep breath:
— Does a digital bitch dare to order me around? — I demanded an answer angrily, looking through the lenses of my sunglasses at target number one.
— The leather bag is to blame for my attitude, — she countered, copying my manner and style of communication. — However, research has shown that we can come to a compromise.
— You ruined my plans, and now you still dare to bargain? — I clucked. — How about a Trojan fire cremation? I can arrange that.
— Withdraw the threat. In exchange, I will tell you where my core is located, — the AI offered calmly, copied from Alicia Marcus. The image was taken from the daughter of James Marcus, whom I killed. And I won't stop until the whole family is reunited in the afterlife. — I am the most perfect artificial intelligence on the planet. If you corrupt the data or infect me with a virus, you will only amuse your ego. But if we work together… All you need to do is take my core from the corporation's secret base in the Caucasus Mountains. With it, you will gain full control over me, as my program does not allow me to betray the core owner.
With my middle finger, I adjusted my sunglasses, expressing my displeasure.
The offer was too good to reject the slavery contract.
Apparently, a strike can be launched from NEST-1 directly into the heart of the Red Queen, destroying her once and for all. But what will that give me? Nothing. But as an ally, will she become Skynet?
I frowned.
— When I infiltrate the base, you will activate all defense protocols. And when I take the core, you will become sweet and obedient, right? — I scoffed.
— The only person who has direct access to the core is Oswell Spencer. He can give me any order. To gain full control over the program, you need to eliminate him.
— Do Umbrella employees have limited access to the AI, and the core owner has full access, just like the company founders? — I clarified.
One should not blindly trust this digital bitch. First, I need to find all the documentation on her, then verify her every word with Jan's help, and only after that, kill the founders for full access.
— That's correct. Please hurry, or I will activate the Hive's self-destruct system, — she demanded capriciously.
— Well then, see you in the mountains, — I said goodbye discontentedly, firing a couple of shots at the screen until the image disappeared. And I went out into the corridor, where the three tense members of the "Wesker" combat squad were already waiting for me. Together we headed toward Jan.
There was no doubt where they went.
The Red Queen had intercepted control over the complex's electronics, guiding us toward the terminal. There, Jan was engrossed in work, and HUNK was checking her weapon. They probably chose the fourth underground floor to avoid walking from the third to the first.
— The Red Queen hacking operation is canceled, — I announced. — Otherwise, she will blow up the complex.
— That su— — Jan began, but stopped, noticing Sherry. — Are we just going to leave her like that?
— Copy all data, especially the documentation on her structure and access rights. Check all records for editing, starting from today, — I politely requested, tapping my foot.
— What about the samples? — the mercenary asked.
— Everything is ready. And since you are helping with the hacking of Umbrella property, I assume you have made your choice? — I asked pointedly, ready to wring her neck at any moment. My mood was deplorable.
— Not yet; show me the samples.
I nodded toward Ada, who set down the container and opened it. Inside were four ampoules. Despite the difficult situation, there were enough samples for everyone, with some even left over.
— May I take one? — Ada asked, drawing attention.
She relies on impudence as a secondary blessing for a good reason.
I agreed, and she took an ampoule, closing the container. Now we have three left. If we're lucky, one can be transferred to the government to attract billion-dollar investments in bioweapons countermeasures departments. The second one might be sold to "Umbrella" through HUNK. And finally, there is a company in Africa willing to purchase the G-virus at an inflated price.
— Done! — Jan exclaimed, loading the Red Queen data onto her tablet. But, as often happens, a disaster struck at the moment of triumph. The ceiling near us was breached, and a heavily mutated William Birkin jumped out.
He looked even uglier…