Tie the Noose Chapter 43

Rebecca watched Danny’s face change while the others kept talking around him. The shift started small. His eyes moved away from the people in front of him, fixed on nothing Rebecca could see. His shoulders locked. Hands closing slowly like a crushing vice, the black, talon-like nails at the ends of his fingers pressed into his palms until the smallest droplets of brackish red began to fall. Rebecca wasn't sure what to make of it, at first. Something had hooked on his mind, but the look of apoplexy that took over his features one twitch at a time was concerningly new.

His jaw tightened next. She heard his teeth grind from where she sat, a dry scrape that cut through the low tension in the bunkroom. Shock crossed his face, followed by rage so sharp that it cut across her thoughts like a razor. She reached out to him, not sure what to do. Not sure if there was anything to do. He didn’t seem to notice her. He didn’t seem to notice Chris glaring from the other side of the room, or Jill watching with narrowed eyes, or Wesker standing near the table, staring at him so blatantly even his sunglasses didn't do anything to hide it.

“Danny?” she asked. Her voice was so small, almost lost in the discourse, barely a whisper, but it brought the others to a screeching halt. Or maybe it was Danny who did it, when he stood so abruptly that the chair slammed into the table behind him before rattling to the ground.

Chris jerked, eyes widening for just a moment as all the conversation died, his slouch vanishing as his full attention landed on the pale man. “What the hell?”

Danny didn’t answer. He turned toward the door, boots hitting the floor hard enough to rattle the nearby beds. Rebecca rose, chair scraping under her legs, but he was already past her. The door struck the wall when he shoved it open, then swung back halfway after he stormed into the garage.

“Carter!” Chris snapped, shooting to his feet. “Get your ass back here!”

He moved after him at once, face contorted into a look that promised nothing good. Jill stood too, hand half raised, ready to grab him or follow him, she didn't seem to know which. Rebecca moved faster than either of them, already two steps towards the door, her thoughts spinning around a question that had been uttered almost ad-nausea at this point. Why?

Wesker stepped into their path before anyone cleared the room. How he'd moved so fast, despite being behind them, Rebecca didn't know, but all three looked ready to barge right past the Captain, and they would have were he a lesser man. But he was The Captain. Hard taught instincts went to war in that instance, the desire to chase after Danny, to support him, to get answers, to do something! Crashing straight into the solid wall of Wesker's sheer force of will.

“Stand down,” he said, holding out an arm, barring the way. Chris was the first to unfreeze, glaring at the man with unrestrained anger, and the words just seemed to tumble out of his mouth as he tried to push past.

“The hell I will.” Chris growled, getting right into Wesker's face, the minute frown across the blonde's lips promising a level of pain Hell Chris had yet to comprehend if he kept pushing.

“Stand down, Chris.” A second chance, the smallest concession to the heated argument, the shocking revelations, all of it, but the tone brooking no further argument. For an instant, Chris looked like he was going to push on, maybe even take a swing, but Jill came in and slid an arm around him, yanking him back. Chris could have overpowered her, pushed her away, but a sharp glance to her showed him that she was torn, maybe even agreeing with him, but trying to protect him from the consequences. It was barely enough to make him relent. It didn't stop the heated words from leaving his mouth, though.

“What the fuck was that?” Chris demanded. “He just bolted, and you're going to let him!?”

“It isn't a case of letting him do anything, Chris, but going after him like a pissed off bull isn't going to help.” The Captain said with a sigh. "I might know what it is that set him off like it did. It has to do with my connection to the other side of things."

“Then say it. Don't play coy with me Albert. I don't have the patience for it.” Chris snarled, almost stepping up again. Wesker shot him the flattest, most disappointed look he'd ever seen, enough so that it brought Chris up short, a flash of shame washing over his face for just a moment, before the anger reasserted itself.

Wesker glanced toward the door, then back to Chris. “Redfield. Chris. You know that baseless speculation shouldn't be said aloud. I have suspicions. I have thoughts, but I need to confirm them.” He said, a complicated look on his face. "I am asking you to trust me. Let me handle him."

Jill’s mouth tightened, a sharp frown crossing her lips. “Captain, you've seen him, but you haven't seen what I've seen. That look on his face screamed bloody murder, and if he's going for his weapons, we have a real problem. None of us are equipped to handle that.”

“I know,” Wesker said. “That’s why you’ll remain here. Say what you will, both of you have been indisputably hostile to Daniel since we got here. If you come at him, there's no way to know how he'll respond.”

Chris gave a harsh laugh. “So what, you're gonna just... just talk him down? Alone?”

“Yes. Say what you will, but I understand him better than either of you.” Wesker said firmly, "Daniel is a complicated man who has been through some horrendous things, and had been through them alone. I understand that feeling more than anyone. I can reach him. You can't." He didn't seem to see the pained look that crossed Rebecca's face when he said that, the wince, the hurt, the internalized truth that she'd let eat at her.

“I’m going with you.” Her tone brooked no argument, but her resolve crumbled when Wesker shook his head.

“Rebecca, if I’m reading this correctly, your presence may push him harder.” He said after a moment, and through the guilt and the ache, a new emotion bloomed. Outrage.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Chris and Jill blinked at the almost guttural grounding that had replaced the young rookie's voice. Wesker looked sad, almost commiserating, but not shocked. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“It means exactly what I said. Daniel is likely feeling very betrayed right now, and very violent as a result. If you intercede in that, if you add yourself as a new variable that splits his focus, reframes his mindset, then he may react unpredictably.” The words were almost insulting, despite the gentle tone. The idea that she would... that she could compromise him? That she should keep out of it? Close her eyes and ignore it? Not a chance in hell.

“He’s my boyfriend.” She ground out. "I haven't been there for him before. I refuse to fail to be there for him now, Captain. So either stand at my side or get out of my way but I'm going to him."

“Rebecca,” Wesker said, still blocking her. “I understand your anger, your frustration, but this is exactly why you can't go out there. It's why you matter too much, in the exactly wrong way. Because as soon as you insert yourself he will be compelled to protect you. Because his failing puts you in danger, a danger he cannot abide. And you know it.”

"I can't just leave him alone." She said, finally, hating herself for how whiny she sounded, all that fire burning out under Wesker's unflinching eyes. "I can't, he's hurting, and I just... I can't..."

"Rebecca, I'm asking you to trust me. This isn't a criticism on you. You haven't failed, you're too important to him. There's no shame in that." The words were a cold comfort, being told you were the one weakness in someone else's armor. Wesker laid a hand on her shoulder, but all she felt was numb.

“You’re asking us to trust you after telling us you work for Umbrella?” Chris interrupted, snorting. "The very same people who are apparently selling zombie plague and, oh yeah, about to destroy the world if that crazy fuck out there is right."

“I’m asking you to trust your Captain and your friend, Chris. The only thing that's changed is that you know the stakes, now. I've been fighting them, and fighting hard, for longer than you've been alive.” There wasn't any hesitation in Wesker's voice, enough to bring Chris up short. "I'm sorry you had to find things out like this, but I've been trying to protect you all just as much as Daniel has been. This is why I know what he's feeling, both now and before."

Jill looked from Wesker to the door. “And if you’re wrong?”

“I'm not.” Wesker said, every ounce of his confidence an almost physical presence. “But if I am, then you all have full permission to tell me you told me so.” He gave them an almost cocky grin.

Chris held Wesker's eyes for several seconds, like he was trying to read the man's mind. Jill touched his arm, brief and firm, and he finally dropped back onto his chair with visible disgust. Jill sat beside him, posture rigid, eyes still on the door. Rebecca stayed standing.

Wesker looked at her again. “I’ll handle this.” She still hesitated, still wanted to go anyway, and maybe she still would’ve pushed past him if Barry hadn’t moaned behind her. The sound was low, rough, and wet with pain. It cut through everything. He lay half uncovered on the bunk, having kicked the blanket away fitfully, sweat shining across his face and throat. The bandage across his abdomen had darkened again, a spreading stain soaking through the cloth. His breathing had worsened, each inhale too shallow and too fast.

Wesker took the opportunity to slip out. Rebecca was caught between staying and going for one ugly second, still wanting to go to Danny with an ache that made her chest hurt. Then Barry moaned again, and she turned away, shamefaced. She crossed to his bunk, dropped to her knees, and fished her medic bag out from the corner she'd shoved it.

“Barry?” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered. “Re... becca…”

“I’m here. Don’t move.” Once again, the words were far from adequate. She had to force herself to bite off that train of thought.

His skin was far too hot under her fingers. Sweat soaked his undershirt and rolled down into the hollow at his throat. His fever had jumped in the intervening hours. His pulse raced under her touch, weak in a way she didn’t want to feel from a man his size. She peeled the tape carefully from the old dressing, cut away the ruined cloth, and checked the wound.

“Shit,” she muttered, grabbing the other two STARS attention as she bodily hoisted Barry up.

Chris’s voice came from behind her, tense and low. “What's going on, Rebecca?”

Jill was right next to him, slipping around to the side of her wounded friend. “How can we help?”

"There isn't much you can do that we haven't already." Rebecca said, after a moment. "His fever is high, and his injury isn't closing properly even with herbs bolstering his body. I can't give him another tincture until tonight without risking a burnout."

"There has to be something-!" Chris started, looking helpless. Rebecca just sighed in response, a despondent, harried sound.

"Chris. I get that you want to help, but there just isn't anything you have to offer. I need to drain and repack the wound, and to do that I need space." She said, bitterly, the word hinting at maybe something else beyond being left to her devices. "I'll call if there's something you can help with, alright?"

That was the end of the conversation as Rebecca set a clean pad beside her knee and worked the edge of the bandage away from the slash. The wound beneath looked worse than it had any right to. The edges had swollen, the skin around it too red and too tight, and heat radiated from the injury. The drainage had thickened, taking on a sickly brown color, as well. Chris gagged a bit at the stink, but eventually accepted that all that was left was for him to wait for Wesker to work his magic.

“Just let her be, Chris.” Jill said from the side, pulling his attention from the little medic as she buried herself in her work. Chris felt helpless in that moment, rudderless and left adrift in the ocean of this never-ending tide of bullshit that just seemed to be trying to swallow them. Jill seemed to share his agitation, but she kept a better lid on her feelings. Still, he couldn’t help but glance back at the girl, still radiating a mix of depression and hostility that didn’t seem to have any direction to go but at them.

Not that Chris blamed her. Hell, he understood. If someone was constantly throwing shade at Claire he would have all the problems with them, but this and that felt too different, too separate, for him to just put it down. He was never good at looking at things objectively, he knew. He got his passions up and then dug his feet in on whatever he’d decided in the moment, but he just couldn’t let it go.

Not with everyone seemingly in on this apocalyptic secret except apparently him and Jill. And Rebecca, he supposed, but she was a tangled mess as it was. Her slapping Danny had been… something, alright, and she didn’t seem to be able to decide if she was pissed or heartbroken over it all in the end.

“Hell of a thing, isn’t it?” Jill asked, almost to herself, pulling him from his thoughts. He almost asked what, but she beat him to the punch. “This whole thing with Umbrella, and Carter, and apparently Wesker too. Conspiracies and murder and some kind of zombie plague that old Danny-boy might well be juiced full of.” She laughed, almost tonelessly, as she looked at Chris with eyes so tired that they looked alien on her youthful face.

“I don’t know what to think about it all.” He admitted, if only to himself. “I’m pissed at Dan. I’m not even sure what for, but I am. Maybe because he was hiding it. ‘Protecting us’, like Wesker said, as if we couldn’t hack it.” He huffed derisively. “Motherfucker, do you know what kinds of badasses we are? You think this is enough to shake us?”

“It’s enough to shake me.” Jill’s quiet words cut through Chris’s bravado. She shot him a glare. “Don’t pretend, Chris. You and I both know that if he came to either of us with this we’d have thought he was a loon. We still would, if we hadn’t stumbled dick-first into all this chasing after his weird, mutant ass.”

“Hey!” Rebecca called over from Barry, but a moan from the man pulled her back to him. Jill just rolled her eyes and dropped her voice.

“You know I’m right, Chris.” She said, finally, and he slumped in his chair. God, did he wish he had a beer right now. Just enough to lubricate the facts enough to be palatable. Or to get blackout drunk and wake back up into a world that made sense.

“Maybe, Jill. But I still think he’s hiding things. We need to get the whole truth out of him, and I aim to, even if I need to wring them out of that tree trunk he calls a neck.” Chris grunted, but Jill reached out and put a hand on his arm. He looked at her curiously.

“No, Chris. I don’t want you getting into it with him again.” Jill said, getting a hiked eyebrow from her partner. “I mean it. You didn’t see what I did in that power plant. He was methodical in killing everyone there who wasn’t me and Rebecca. I checked a lot of the bodies, and the ones he didn’t blow apart, the maimed ones, he executed up close and personal. Justified or not, those aren’t the actions of a stable man and you goddamn know it.”

Chris looked at her with a sour frown. He did know what that looked like. He’d seen men snap in the field, had friends who went overboard, from stress or from the detachment or from seeing one too many atrocities through a tiny little scope or satellite camera, unable to do anything to help. You could only see that for so long before it started messing with you. And there was something tragic that it had touched Dan the way it did.

Chris didn’t hate Daniel. Not really. The embarrassment of getting his ass kicked and the weeks of fruitless searching were frustrating but he knew he built it up more than it was. He just hated having to admit that he was in the wrong there. It was easier to cling onto the anger than it was to accept it was for a good reason. He could be immature like that, he knew.

Still… “He really got fucked up, huh?” There it was. Jill nodded, leaning back. “Was it really that bad? I know you all made some allusions but-”

“It’s a miracle he isn’t insane, Chris. Or rather, more insane.” She said lowly, glancing at Rebecca but not seeing her look over. Good. It would be best for her not to hear this. “There were tapes, Chris. A lot of them, and they were bad. It’s amazing he’s as sane as he is, considering. He'd just gotten loose when Rebecca and I found him, and he’d been tearing through those mercenaries like a thresher through wheat…” She trailed off. The words were distant, like she was remembering them more than telling them, and Chris frowned. Jill was hard to shake, but this… something about it had dug into her.

“What is it?” He asked, watching her.

“Rebecca didn’t see what I saw. When he got loose, what he did to those first bodies… he didn’t just kill them, he mauled them like a wild animal. I recognized the wounds. Clawing, scratching, biting, not premeditated or desperate, but like a predator claiming a meal. More than that, I found bullets, mushroomed, bloody, like they’d hit and then fallen out. Daniel didn’t seem to have any wounds on him when I found him, but from the sheer number of casings, he had to have been hit a dozen times at least.” Jill sighed. Chris nodded along, and thought back to what he’d said about being infected, and comparing that to the headless, and the grafted, and how hard they were to put down.

“Do you think he’s dangerous?” Chris asked quietly, and Jill nodded. “Then we watch him. So far he’s been… different, angry, but Rebecca seems to be able to keep him level headed most of the time.” The words came with a sigh. “I’ll lay off him, too. At this point I don’t think it’ll help anyway. Still don’t like it, though.”

“Neither do I, but for now we need to watch and wait. We should also probably keep an eye on Rebecca too. No telling what he’ll do if something happens to her.” Jill hummed, contemplatively. “Though that isn’t our only issue, is it?”

“Wesker.” Chris said, dourly.

“Wesker.” Jill confirmed.

“What do you think about the whole… double agent thing?” He asked, for once sounding unsure. “I can kinda understand it, but it’s hard to imagine anyone hiding something like that from us, much less the Captain. We’ve known him for years.”

“That’s the problem, I think. We had more than enough time to get comfortable with him. Fall into a routine.” Jill pondered as she rubbed her head. “Gives me a headache just thinking about it though. We’re talking about almost four years of decisions that all take on a new context when you look at it from his angle. Orders that didn’t make sense but worked out, his constant fighting with the Mayor and Irons, the increases to training and the budget and his sudden upgrading of the armory, it all makes sense if you look at it like he was trying to prepare for something.”

“Something like taking the fight to Umbrella, you mean?” The question was probing, but it had teeth. “Fuck, that’s a lot to take in. Like if someone told me Nestle was trying to topple African governments for more chocolate shares or something. But also with Zombies.”

“Then I won’t tell you that.” Jill grinned, and Chris shot her a sour look.

“Oh, Christ, Jill, I don’t think I could handle that.” Chris groaned. “Back to the topic though…”

“I’m willing to give the Captain the benefit of the doubt. Like Daniel, he had his reasons, and I’ll even go so far as to admit they were pretty damn good reasons to hide what was going on, but we know him. Carter is at best an acquaintance.” She said frankly. “A good acquaintance, but he’s still on the outside. Wesker is STARS. He knows us, knows our families, hell, he’s Barry’s daughter’s godfather. I think he earned more than a little credit.”

“So long as we get read in on everything, I’m willing to accept that.” Chris’s words were solid, and Jill agreed. “The two of them, not just Wesker or Carter. I want to know all of the details once we get out of here, including what each of them were planning to do from here out.” He sighed.

“Dan was right about keeping things on the downlow. Wesker confirmed it from his end, too, so that makes things more complicated than I want to think about. If we’re actually going to do something about this, though, I don’t think the handful of us are enough. I want to see about getting the others read in, too.” Jill said, “There’s strength in numbers and it’s clear Wesker was getting STARS ready for something, maybe even something like this.”

“Do you… do you think we can trust everyone?” Chris asked, and Jill shrugged.

“If anyone would know for certain, I would guess it would be the Captain. He headhunted everyone personally, remember?” Jill pointed out. Chris made a humming sound at that, rubbing his chin.

“Except STARS was Irons’ baby. One he rode all the way to becoming the Chief.” Chris said, finally. “But that’s all speculative. And probably for later.”

“Yeah. If it helps, I have some friends I can call that are solid too, if we need people outside of STARS to fill the ranks. More than a few of them would be creaming their pants to get to shoot some zombies.” Jill laughed, quietly. “So then-”

“Guys?” Rebecca called, and both their heads shot up, “I need you.” Both STRS were on their feet in a second and striding over, and the first thing that hit them was the smell. Like a stale dumpster left out in the sun too long, the air had an almost physical patina of stink that felt chewy on their senses. The source wasn’t hard to see, either, coming from a big, angry red gash that stretched from Barry’s side all the way to the center of his ribcage, following along the curve of his floating rib and deep enough that Jill swore she could see the glint of bone underneath the poorly-healed hole.

“What is it, Chambers?” Chris asked, “What’s going on?” He was trying to hide the naked worry in his voice, seeing the extent of Barry’s injuries, but it was a poor attempt at best. Out of all of them Chris had the closest relationship with the bearded family man, having been taken under his wing early in his onboarding into the organization, and then mentored into his Pointman position at the foot of the big man. Given how hard Chris’s childhood was, it wasn’t too far to say that he looked at Barry like a second father.

“I’ve been monitoring his wounds since last night, and I’m seeing a concerning pattern. I hit him with both a frankly dangerous number of herbal mixes and several of our First Aid sprays, but they don’t seem to be making a dent in either the depth or the infection that’s definitely settling in.” The medic jumped in immediately, as she poured more clotting agent on the wounds, but not before wiping away a sickly yellow pus that had started leaking out.

“He took a bad hit from the Grafted yesterday. It went right through his plate and vest, and when you found us in that crate he’d already lost a lot of blood.” Chris said, his voice tense. “I hit him with everything I had, including some broad-spectrum antibiotics before you showed up, and tried to wash it out best I could.”

“That helped a bit- can you lift him, here? Thank you.” Rebecca interrupted herself, directing Chris to prop Barry up on his side. The man’s skin felt clammy and wet under Chris’s touch, slimy from all the sweat, despite Rebecca having wiped him down at least twice. “But yes, that helped a bit, but it’s clear there was something on those claws it hit him with. Even blue herb isn’t stymieing the spread, and he’s getting worse. Look.”

Rebecca motioned to the injury, where there were visible lines of black crawling under his skin, following his veins like a spiderweb, only maybe an inch in length, but visibly growing a millimeter out in the few minutes they watched. It was an alarming pace that had Rebecca diving into her limited medical supplies, pulling more syringes and vials of drugs out.

“I’ve been trying to keep it in check with what I have, but these just aren’t strong enough. There’s some slowdown, but my guess is that it’s the same black mold that seems to be infecting everything here, and I only have so many anti-fungals. I got some more stuff from Danny’s supply, but that’s a stopgap at best.” She said to them, “If I had to guess, we have maybe twelve hours before whatever this is spreads beyond my ability to stop it, and after that…”

“After that he’s going to start turning into one of those things.” Chris bit out. Rebecca shot him a concerned look, but nodded in confirmation. “Then we need to get him out of here, to a hospital, or-”

“According to Wesker, every hospital we could reach from where we are in the timeframe we have is owned by Umbrella. Which means Barry would be as good as dead, if they were involved in this shitstorm.” Jill cut in. “And that’s not including the half-day it took to get here in the first place.”

“Don’t tell me you’re saying we should just let him die!” Chris snapped, and Jill shook her head firmly.

“Of course not. Don’t put words in my mouth!” Jill snapped back, and for a moment Chris looked ashamed for implying it, but then his face clouded over again.

“Then what are our options? There has to be something we can do.” He conceded, his frustration apparent. Jill put her hand on his shoulder, offering him some small comfort, but it would be a lie to say she wasn’t worried too.

“Danny might know.” Rebecca chimed in, grabbing their attention as she padded down a strip of medical tape, securing the new bandage into place as best she could. “He was up here looking for proof, and he showed me a pretty chunky dossier on the mine he got from somewhere, and he mentioned there was a research facility up here. It’s not much, but if there’s anything we can use it’ll probably be there.”

“Then let’s ask him.” Chris was already marching towards the door, Jill in his wake. Rebecca was about to follow when Barry made a quiet groan, drawing her attention. His eyes had fluttered open, and he was trying to say something, but what it was was lost when the door was thrown open. Sighing, she reached into her bag and fished out some more painkillers, hoping it would be enough to make him comfortable, and that Chris actually followed through with mellowing out, like he said he would. Because the last thing they needed was for him to get into another fight with Danny. Not now.

“Fuck.” She whispered to herself, and went back to tending to the wounded man.

000

Daniel stormed out of the bunkroom with murder in his eyes and a deep, pulsing sense of betrayal running through his thoughts. The door hit the concrete like a gunshot, the metal rattling like a gong as it bounced off the reinforced stone, nearly slamming shut behind him from the force of the impact alone. He grit his teeth, molars grinding as he barely managed to contain himself as he grabbed the door of his trunk and practically ripped it off. Behind him, he heard the door open a moment later, the rapid tapping of footsteps following behind him, and for a moment he pulled his attention from fishing out his shotgun and loading in a fresh magazine of grenades to watch Wesker of all people chasing after him.

“Can I help you, Albert?” He ground out, racking the Saiga, before reaching in and wrapping a hand around the collar of his vest, the heavy metal plating clacking together as he started undoing the buckles. Enraged or not, he wasn’t going to go wring some answers out of the Survivalist in anything less than full gear. Angry didn’t mean stupid, and Daniel didn’t need to know the jaundiced man was dangerous as hell.

Not that it was going to stop him.

“Whatever you’re thinking right now, and I can guess, I need you to take a step back, Daniel.” All that managed to do was make the large man pause in-between stuffing magazines into his vest feeds as he gave Wesker a cutting stare.

“Do you? What are you doing out here, Albert? That fucker played me like a damn fiddle for months. Forget being compromised, that wrinkled testicle was dancing me along like a fucking puppet!” Daniel spun on the blonde, shoving a finger into his chest, looming over the STARS Captain. “And I won’t have you stand in the way of that, you get me? So either get on my side or move, because if I have to go through you-”

“Your girlfriend said something eerily similar just a moment ago, you know?” Wesker cut in. “The two of you are so similar like that, in more ways than you might like to admit despite the… sizable difference between you two.” The words were accompanied by a look up and down Daniel’s frame. “And while I’ve no doubt you could wreak some havoc if you so chose to, I also imagine, like her, despite your very reasonable anger, you might be willing to see reason.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Daniel sneered. “Because right now the only thing I’m willing to see is if I can strangle a few answers out of that fucker before his head pops off his shoulders.” He turned back to the truck, reaching over for his trusty P90, the enhanced frame gleaming under the dim lights of his vehicle. He wasn’t going to be leaving that behind, not again. He never should have left her before.

“I understand that, believe me Daniel. There are few things in this life that burn worse than betrayal, and your Survivalist is a master of deception. He only shows you what he wants you to see, my friend.” Albert said, calmly, reasonably, resting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Like his patron, he’s an expert in playing people to his own ends, whatever those might be. But you must see this with both eyes open. Of all of Spencer’s tools, he is both the most mysterious, and the most uncontrolled.”

“What are you getting at Wesker? You can’t be telling me to hold off because he might be a little dangerous. Against a bunch of USS? Sure, fuck ‘em, but I pulled the same trick just the other day.” Daniel snorted, strapping his new magnum into its holster, opposite the mare’s leg. He still had another thirty rounds for it, more than enough, and he wanted some big boom, despite his bravado. “Very impressive to my green-grass ass back then. Not so much now.”

“It’s not just that, Daniel. When I say uncontrolled, I don’t mean to paint him as some kind of combat monster. What I mean is that Spencer has a tenuous grasp on him.” Wesker redirected, sliding around to look the hulking man in the eye. “From what I know of the Survivalist, even Oswell doesn’t know his name or history, and every probe I’ve sent out comes back with just as little, if not less, and trust me when I say I’ve looked.”

“I find that hard to believe, Al. The guy’s connected everywhere, enough to pull random prototypes from Umbrella, Tricell, FN and a dozen other places like he’s handing out candy from a particularly pearly van.” Daniel snorted. He paused long enough to stare directly into those sunglasses of Wesker’s, a flat look on his face. “So square that circle for me.”

“Daniel,” He started, as if he were chewing on his words. Daniel let him as he dragged a case of grenades out from under a half-dozen boxes of P90 rounds. “Daniel, you miss the forest for the trees. You’re right that he’s oddly well-connected for a man of his disposition, but that doesn’t equate to knowledge of his past, or how he managed the feat, but in the end, does it actually matter? The man is a mercenary in the purest sense of the word. So long as you have custom, he’ll talk to you.”

“And? Are you saying I should just suck it up and keep using him? Because considering who his boss is, that sounds really fucking stupid, Wesker. Not just because he knows what I’m doing, but he’s been skimming off the top the whole time in the process. Probably handing every fucking thing I give him right back to Umbrella.” Daniel said, bitterly. And that was what stung the most, wasn’t it? All his efforts, all his time, with the small comfort that he was at least keeping the shit he took from Umbrella.

“What would you say if I told you that none of that research did?” Daniel paused, his spiralling depression cut off at the hilt. He gave Wesker a searching look, but couldn’t see a lie in the man’s face. That meant less than nothing, but still.

“What do you mean it didn’t get back to Umbrella?” He asked, probingly, and Wesker just shrugged.

“It’s exactly what I said, and I have more insight than most into the workings of the company. Whatever you might be thinking he gave Umbrella proper, he didn’t.” Albert didn’t seem to be lying, but that just raised more questions in Daniel’s mind.

“Then where the hell did it go?” Daniel asked, finally, and Wesker grinned like he’d finally asked the right question. Daniel didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Where indeed? Think about it, Dan. If you confront him now, you’ll never know, but he’s not loyal solely to Spencer, or to Spencer’s company. That’s something you, we, can use.” Daniel hated how much sense that made, even as he slowed down loading up. The gears were turning, and the rage was still there, still simmering, but it had been quenched under the weight of the reality of what Wesker was saying.

“You’re talking about turning him.” Daniel said after a moment, and Wesker nodded.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. We share a purpose, a goal, you and I, and if I had to guess, Rebecca would follow you to hell and back whether you want her to or not.” Wesker replied, “Chris and Jill, and Barry as well, along with all the rest of my STARS, but that sort of endeavor needs supplies, it needs intel, weapons, ammo, armor, all of which the Survivalist could provide, if we can just get him on our side.”

“There’s a lot of ifs in there, Albert. If we can turn him. If we can find out what he wants. If he’s able to be manipulated or convinced to fuck over Spencer. A little optimistic, don’t you think?” Daniel couldn’t keep the skepticism out of his voice. “Because it’s not going to be half as easy as you seem to think it is.”

“Perhaps not, but it’s worth the effort. I’m not saying you shouldn’t reap what was sown, I’m just saying, perhaps, it would be to our advantage to try. You know his game, now, and who he’s serving. That’s a potent advantage in our favor.” Wesker said with a shrug. “If nothing else, we can use that to feed misinformation back to Spencer. Given your current… predicament, I’ve no doubt he has orders to keep an eye on you and report back. Let's use that, and everything else he can give us besides.”

“I still don’t like it, Wesker. This is a lot of speculative bullshit, and he’s right there. I’ll never get a better chance. There’s no place to run and no place to hide.” Daniel said, but Wesker could almost feel him turning to his argument, as he knew he would. Despite his new condition, the large operative was a clever man.

“Perhaps, but the same is true for you. If you do take your shot and miss, then it’s no secret who he’ll go after in reprisal.” Daniel’s face went cold at that, and Wesker knew he landed a point. “Play the long game, Dan. You’ve been reacting this whole time, by your own admission, but now you have a chance to be proactive instead. Be a player in this game, instead of just a piece. Teach them that you aren’t to be underestimated.”

Daniel was quiet for a long moment, hand drifting across the handgun holstered at his hip, Rebecca’s handgun, whom he still hadn’t returned to her, and chewed over what Wesker was saying. It made sense, and he hated to admit that. He knew the blonde man was manipulating him, at least a little, but there was merit in what he was pointing out. Picking a fight with the Survivalist was a gut reaction, driven by his rage and his frustration, and the deep sense of betrayal and, if he were honest, humiliation at being yanked around as he had, even as he told himself he couldn’t trust the Survivalist.

Using him had a certain charm to it, a temptation that sat heavy in Daniel’s mind, a lure, attractive in its simplicity. There would have been something delightfully ironic in turning the tables on the Survivalist, in letting him think he had all the cards and then turning around and sticking the knife in when it hurt worst, and then twisting it to make the point clear. Getting everything he could from the half-rotten bastard was just the icing on the cake, especially when he would use those same weapons and resources to cut him off at the knees.

And through him? Spencer. That was the other side of the equation, wasn’t it? The Survivalist was just one finger of the hand that wielded him. Same as Gideon, the creepy fucker, and beyond him, HUNK. All of them ultimately were just symptoms of the disease. Spencer was the cause, and he had to go, just from him being the head of Umbrella, but also because Daniel still didn’t know why the Survivalist had been giving him targets that were Umbrella property if he worked for them. Spencer was obviously up to some fuckery, unsurprisingly, and Daniel had no idea what the endgame was.

Because Spencer was the head of the snake, it seemed. Or the head of the hydra, or reverse hydra? Daniel didn’t know. He was getting lost in the metaphor. The point was, the end goal seemed to be pointing at the near-centennial master of the company, as well as its antithesis, and the question of what to do about it still loomed large. But that was a later problem. Right now he had a choice. Go with his original idea of beating, cutting, shooting or strangling some answers out of the Survivalist now, or doing what Wesker said and using him to get at the real Heart of Darkness.

He knew what the smart answer was.

Didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Fine. Let’s say we go with your plan, Al. What are you thinking?” Daniel asked eventually, and Wesker grinned like the cat that caught the canary. “And don’t make that face, it’s pissing me off.”

“Fair, fair,” Wesker chuckled, holding his hands up but losing the smug smile. Daniel just shook his head in annoyance, sitting down on the ramp of his SUV. Wesker opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the door opening caught both their attention. It wasn’t lost on Daniel the sour look that flashed across the other man’s face when Chris appeared, followed closely by Jill. Rebecca was conspicuously absent, though, which seemed odd.

“Captain!” Chris called, as he jogged over, barely sparing Daniel a glance. “Captain, you need to come quick, it’s Barry!” He said, rushing the words out, “He’s looking really bad, Cap. Rebecca is doing what she can but…”

“But you need an expert, right?” He said, and turned to Daniel, “We’ll continue this later.” And strode off, leaving Daniel with Jill. He glanced at her, and she stared back, before tilting her head.

“You coming, Carter?” She tacitly asked, before turning, not waiting for his answer. He was behind her in a step, his desire to take out his frustrations forgotten for the moment. He’d seen the injury Barry had gotten yesterday, but the man had been mobile, if walking wounded, but more than that he knew quite intimately the sorts of things that can come from the merest scratch.

Barry had been more than scratched.

He wasn’t wholly sure of what had happened, having engaged the Grafted almost immediately to take the pressure off Wesker, which wasn’t that a wild thing to think, but he hadn’t seen Chris or Barry until after the fight, and even then, he didn’t have any real idea of his condition, he was ashamed to say. Daniel had been in no shape to be thinking past the immediate next steps, but it was still no excuse. And despite his issues with Barry, he didn’t want to see the man hurt.

He wasn’t a monster.

At least not like that.

Coming into the room the first thing he noticed was the pallor. There was a scent in the air, one he was all too familiar with, a heady mix of sweat and sickly sweet rot, subtle, barely there, almost, but it was tainted with something else, something that almost smelled… good? He swallowed immediately, ignoring the sudden salivation that filled his mouth, pulling a gentle, teasing hunger from his suddenly too-empty belly.

He forced it down, from the thoughts and feelings to the creeping desire, he crushed it under his boots just like he would any other monster Umbrella spit out, refusing to let it cloud his thoughts as he ran his eyes over the pale man, finding it perturbing how small he seemed, hunched over and half-conscious on the bunk, his body covered in a sheen of oily sweat, the nasty injury on his ribs bandaged, but the pad yellowing already with a filthy-looking pus, as he caught the tail end of what Rebecca was saying to Albert.

“...black veins slowly moving up his chest. I don’t know what it is, but I think it’s related to whatever has been going on here.” She said, sparing him a glance and a tiny, fragile smile before falling back into Medic mode. “The infection site is deep enough that I’m worried it might be moving towards his organs, but I’ve never seen an infection move this fast before. I’ve never even heard of it.”

“From the sound of it, it has the same level of infectivity as one of the company’s more purpose-built viral agents, but the symptoms are odd. Usually necrosis is the largest of the major signs, but the fact that the site is swelling shows the area is still alive and receiving blood flow.” Wesker hummed contemplatively. “I would assume that it has something to do with the strange black mold that’s growing everywhere, including our undead friends out there, but I’m not read-in well enough on what was going on up here.”

“So where does that leave us?” Jill asked from the side. “It’s not like we can take him back down the mountain in this condition, much less take the ‘Cat back to Raccoon. Is there anything a hospital would be able to do for him, even if we found one that didn’t answer to your bosses, Captain?”

“Realistically? No. Without knowing what the pathogen is, anyway, even if one such facility were available. Ultimately they would still end up contacting Umbrella about it. It’s the SOP for a lot of hospitals worldwide, considering they’re considered the gold standard when it comes to cutting edge virology.” Wesker sighed, as he stood. “There just isn’t anyone as good at dissecting pathogens as they are, for obvious reasons.”

“Then we just go get the info.” Chris said, firmly, glancing to Daniel. “Rebecca mentioned you had some kind of schematic for this place, right? Something about there being a research facility here? I’d bet anything that this is what it’s there for, especially if Umbrella is all about their bioweapons like you all said they were.”

“That’s why I was up here in the first place, yeah.” Daniel admitted, scratching his chin. “I was hoping that there was something salvageable here. It’s half the reason I was fucking around in the power plant to begin with, trying to get the lights back on. The facility has some kind of huge vault door keeping it shut. I have some passcodes that’ll supposedly work to open the door, but after that it’s a crapshoot.”

“There we go, we have a plan.” Chris said, deliberately ignoring the last part. “We go there, get whatever they have on this black shit that’s everywhere, and if we’re lucky they might even have something to stop it. That’s how these things work, right?” He looked at Daniel, the arguably most experienced of the lot of them in these things.

“It’s been fifty fifty in my experience Chris, so temper your expectations. I got infected twice, once at the bunker and again at the hospital. The first time I had to roll the dice and tough it out, but the second time they had a direct antigen.” He confirmed, hesitantly, but raised a hand before Chris could butt in. “If they made an antigen and if it works are two things all their own, and I want you to be prepared for that.”

“If it is, then we deal with it then and there. It’s no use speculating one way or the other, especially now.” Wesker said, with an air of finality that ended the conversation. Turning to Daniel, he asked, “Can you grab your laptop? It would help if we could see what you have. There might be something you missed in there, or something I could offer with my insight.”

“Alright. Give me a second.” Daniel acquiesced, heading to the door before vanishing out of it. Jill glanced over to Barry as Chris walked over and grabbed a bottle of water from their limited supply, Wesker joining him after a moment.

“He’s right, Chris. As much as you and I might not want to admit it, you need to go into this with a clear head.” He said, finally, as Jill joined them. Chris shot him a look as he took a long swig, but didn’t say anything. Wesker dropped a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. “I need to hear it from you Chris. We’re going to be heading into an unknown, just as bad, if not worse than the Barracks, and we’re doing it down several of us. I need to know your head is in the game.”

Chris held his tongue for a long moment, but eventually nodded. Wesker looked over to Jill as well, and she nodded too. “We’ve been through worse, Captain. Things have been shit lately, but we’re in this a hundred percent.” Her words sounded steadier than she felt, even if she wasn’t able to hide the worry she felt under the bravado. She liked Barry too, and despite her cool head, nobody was fooled by the aloof attitude.

“We’ll get Barry patched up, one way or another.” Wesker said as the door opened and Daniel came back in hauling the steel-cased computer with him. Rebecca had just finished laying Barry down and moved to join him, pulling him up short and stealing a kiss on his cheek as they came over. Nobody said anything, the young woman looking harried enough to take her moments of comfort where she could get them.

They all settled in around the computer, Rebecca leaning into Daniel as Jill and Chris took the opposite side, Wesker hovering over his shoulder as he typed away. Daniel was glad that despite his… increased… size he was able to type with the same level of efficacy as he had before, with a few small exceptions, but it wasn’t long before he was dragging up the facility schematic, along with the associated files.

“This is everything I’ve got.” He said as he leaned back, scrolling the touchpad back to show off the entire research center. Out of all the buildings at the mine, it was the most complex, a harrowing series of labs and surgeries built around what looked like a central pillar, the building divided into four wings, all of which seemed to be set up for a different purpose. Nothing was labeled, because it was never that easy, but it was clear to see that they’d need to make it through all three labs before getting access to the fourth, which was marked with a number of what looked like heavy security doors. “From what I saw, the labs are built to go from lowest hazard level to highest, with the fourth lab only accessible here, from this secured elevator. There’s supposedly a bypass combination lock that’ll give us access, but if I had to guess we’re going to be playing scavenger hunt to find whatever keycard or doodad we need to get the doors open.”

“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked from the side, and Chris let out a slow groan in response.

“For some reason Umbrella is obsessed with Rule of Three locks and security features.” Daniel offered. “If there’s something important, it’ll usually have three, or some divisible of three, that needs to be collected to get things to work.”

“It has to do with the three founders of the company.” Wesker said, tiredly. “Originally, when Umbrella was a starting out and there was a central lab, one of the security features Spencer, Ashford and Marcus insisted upon was a three person lockout system for anything important. They were all rather paranoid of their research being stolen, so in order to keep each other honest none of them could access the proprietary materials alone. All three had to consent. When Marcus and Ashford died, the culture built up around them and their Rule of Three security system remained.”

“Christ, you mean the reason I always seem to need to do three random whatevers to get shit working around here comes from the paranoia of two dead men and their asshole friend?” Daniel asked, somewhat rhetorically. Wesker just laughed at his annoyance, as he shook his head.

“It’s stupid, but that’s why you seem to run into three-part lockout systems everywhere, and before you ask, yes, there’s been a constant effort to stamp it out. It never sticks.” The blonde shrugged.

“Back on topic,” Jill interrupted, “What I’m hearing is that the things we want are going to probably be in that last lab, right? And we just need to get there.” Daniel nodded, along with Wesker. “Then the details are pretty moot. We’re going to get in there.”

“Indeed. Which just leaves us with the how, and the who.” Albert said as he looked them all over. “Rebecca, you’ll need to stay behind, and before you object, you’re the only one who can keep Barry stable. You know it, as well as I do.” He said, before the young woman could bristle. She bit her tongue, knowing he was right, but hated where this was going all the same.

“Jill, Chris, you’ll be going with Daniel. He’s the most experienced out of all of us, so listen to him when he speaks. I know he’s… unorthodox, but knowledge is power, and if it keeps either of you from taking an injury like Burton’s then so be it.” He said, and while neither STARS liked the idea of taking orders from the large man, they both knew the Captain was right. If anything, Daniel was the one who knew the most about what was going on here, just through the dint of being here on purpose.

“Carter, I’m giving you two of my STARS. Don’t get them killed.” Was all Wesker spared to Daniel, as he stood. “While we were all resting I took a look at the monitoring station here, and it does have the proper access codes to override the cameras and sensors across the board. I’ll use that to run command and control. Hopefully having an eye in the sky will give you an advantage that an extra gun hand won’t. Do you think you might be able to transfer your dossier over? Having the information on hand would be helpful.”

“I can do that, yeah. I have a couple spare thumb drives in my bag, courtesy of Umbrella.” Daniel said, standing up. “I need to get my helmet from the asshole anyway. He said it should be fixed by now.”

“Then get to it. Chris, Jill, I want to go over a few things with you…” Wesker’s voice faded as Danny left the room, only to hear footsteps behind him. He glanced back to see Rebecca following him.

“What’s up, hon?” He asked, stopping, only for Rebecca to stop a few paces away, mirroring him. Watching her, she looked like she had something to say, something she was struggling with. He’d seen it before, every so often, when she wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it. He took a step towards her, curiously. “What’s wrong, Becca?”

She bit her lip, thinking, rolling things over in her head as she sometimes did. Daniel had learned to be patient when she got like this, knowing that rushing her just frustrated her. He could practically see her mind churning the same thoughts, the same feelings, over and over again, as she slowly drifted into his orbit. He reached out to her, resting a too-big hand on her slender shoulder, and like an anchor, she reeled herself in, until her forehead rested against his chest.

“I don’t like this.” She finally blurted out. “I don’t like any of this. It feels wrong to let you go back into this alone.” The whispered admission was pained, tired, and worn. The last few hours hadn’t been kind to Rebecca, Daniel knew, and with her needing to stay behind to care for Barry, it put her into an impossible crossroads between being here to take care of her teammate and being there to take care of him. Whether he needed her to was a moot point. She had taken the fact that he hadn’t been able to trust her with this hard enough, and the fact that he’d been facing it alone had been enough to eat at her, under everything.

He slowly wrapped his arms around her, careful not to crush her with his newfound strength. She pressed against him, for just a moment, reveling in the feeling of his being there, before looking up at him. She had to crane her neck a bit, just to meet his eyes, but they glistened with unshed tears all the same. “It’s what I do, Becca. I have been since before we got together, and longer still before that. Training, preparing, doing everything I could to be ready. This isn’t any different than that. Better even. I have Jill and Chris coming with me.”

“I know. And I hate thinking of things like it’s fair or not, but it doesn’t feel right all the same. I love you Danny. Despite everything that’s happened.” She said, quietly, staring into his eyes, “Or maybe because of it. It’s stupid, if you think about it. All I’ve been thinking about the whole time you were gone was if you were okay, if you were safe, if… if you would come back to me, selfish as it is. I just got you back, and now…”

“Now I’m heading off again into the lion’s den. I know.” He chuckled, running a hand through her short hair, “It’s funny, though. I don’t even feel scared. Not even worried. Just a little excited. Anticipatory.” The words tumbled out, as he pressed his forehead to hers, tangling his breath with hers. He could almost taste her, she was so close, and he couldn’t even kiss her fears away.

“I trust you Danny. I want to trust you. To believe in you.” She whispered, so low he barely heard it. “To believe that you’ll come back safe.” Her hands came up to wrap around his neck, pulling herself into him ever so slightly. It wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t dare pull away. “That you’ll come back to me, no matter what. Whatever it takes, whatever you need to do, good or bad, rain or shine. I want you to come back to me Daniel Carter. Do you understand?”

He just nodded, feeling her shudder as she breathed him in. Her hand drifted down to his side, where her handgun still rested. He hadn’t had a chance to give it back, but she didn’t take it. She just made sure it was locked into its holster, before taking his hand and gripping it tightly.

“I’ll always come back to you, Becca,” He whispered quietly, a promise from him to her, uncompromising, unhesitating. “I love you too.”

“Good.” She whispered, stepping back, her eyes firm even if they were a bit watery. “Get your shit wired, Mr. Carter. Go do what you do and save Barry. I’ll hold down the fort while you’re away.”

Stepping back, he held her hand for a moment longer, then stepped back, and despite it all, the pain, the fear, the monstrous new body and still unknown horrors that lurked below, he felt a little more human. A little more himself, as he watched the small woman slip back into the bunkroom. For the first time in a long time. For the first time since this all began, maybe.

He felt ready.