Chapter 028: Operation Begins

Beep... beep...

Chris had departed.

"Tsk, Chris cooperating with Umbrella, returning to Raccoon City to take down Umbrella, and then Jill will probably join in too. Wonder what expression those S.T.A.R.S. survivors will have when they see Chris showing up with Umbrella's mobile units to rescue them... How absurd."

Vera walked to the one-way floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the industrial park below.

Sunlight streamed down, dancing across countless silver metal surfaces. Rows of modern industrial buildings stood in neat, orderly lines, while trucks bearing the Umbrella logo shuttled along the roads at regular intervals, moving along predetermined routes like silver ribbons dancing through the complex.

A convoy of heavy multi-purpose transport vehicles emerged from the underground parking garage of the U.S.F. Security Forces training base, speeding toward Colorado's inland direction.

Left arm crossed over her chest, fingers supporting the side of her face, Vera quietly watched the U.S.F. convoy disappear until it vanished completely from view.

"What a carnival."

Murmuring softly, Vera turned and walked over to activate the projection screen. Sitting down and leaning back in her chair, she watched the slowly loading live Umbrella surveillance feeds from Raccoon City while picking up the integrated service phone and dialing a number.

The Raccoon City incident was undoubtedly a carnival.

A carnival where Umbrella falls and everyone else gets fed.

Don't be fooled by Umbrella Corporation's seemingly positive international image as a super-monopoly before the Raccoon City bombshell dropped. Their pharmaceuticals, medical hardware, and technical reserves were all world-leading, but Vera didn't believe others weren't eyeing them hungrily.

Especially before she joined Umbrella and pushed for transformation, Umbrella's real profit sources came from unknown high-tech military technology, life engineering, biological weapons, and other secret industries.

Many were classified projects that couldn't withstand scrutiny or be made public.

In the past, everyone was equally dirty—no one cleaner than anyone else, everyone minding their own business. But now that Umbrella's own landmine had exploded, would other rival companies, like their biggest competitor Tricell, just watch without kicking them while they're down?

As for trusting Wall Street vampires and Washington politicians to help in times of need—you might as well trust me, Vera, or Jehovah. Pay up!

Now Vera would also join this feast of division.

Oh, you say Vera is also part of Umbrella?

Not for much longer.

From now on, please address me as Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer of MILITECH!

"Hello, Mr. Simmons. Interested in investing in MILITECH?"

...

While Vera was conducting her "ship-jumping" operations and discussing with Washington how to distance herself and reasonably divide Umbrella's assets, across the Atlantic on the British Isles, in the Spencer family's hidden castle:

"Master, the viral outbreak scale in Raccoon City is rapidly expanding. The city's water supply and underground pipelines have been contaminated with T-virus. The situation is beyond control. The U.S.S. forces' recovery operation on the 22nd completely failed—they've been out of contact for over 48 hours. Alpha team may have been completely wiped out."

"That inside traitor William Birkin injected himself with G-virus and became a bio-monster roaming the underground research facility, causing massive destruction. Incomplete or archived B.O.W. test subjects keep escaping into the city."

"Our developed suppressants and neutralizers target the T-virus—their effectiveness against G-virus is completely unpredictable. We're under tremendous pressure from the White House and public opinion."

The Spencer family's elderly butler reported with a slightly trembling voice.

In modern society, a viral outbreak of this scale directly causing a biohazard crisis was unprecedented and terrifying!

Even he, having served the Spencer family for many years, couldn't help feeling intimidated.

Though Umbrella was massive, worth hundreds of billions in pharmaceutical business alone, once Raccoon City's crimes were confirmed, it would surely die. International boycotts, national-level intervention and sanctions, forced delisting, dismantling...

Sitting in the high-tech wheelchair specially gifted by "Black Umbrella" department director Vera, Oswell E. Spencer raised his aged, skeletal hand. As if not hearing the butler's wavering tone, he simply asked calmly: "Has the U.B.C.S. force deployed?"

"Already deployed in advance."

The butler's professionalism was impeccable. He immediately adjusted and hid his emotions, saying: "The first units are expected to reach Raccoon City tonight."

"Since this can no longer be avoided, let's maximize its use to advance experimental progress. Don't they always say their products lack real combat opportunities?"

Spencer lifted his face, wrinkled and spotted from age and long absence from sunlight. A hint of viciousness flashed in his pale blue eyes—a kind of hysterical madness.

Since I can no longer stand, and am nearly dead from old age, does Umbrella, founded for my longevity dreams, still have value?

"Deploy everything to Raccoon City. Collect mutation and experimental data. Perhaps mature B.O.W. products, biochemical weapons, and biotechnology can move Washington."

Raccoon City was already out of control anyway—how much worse could it get?

As an observer, the butler instinctively felt something was wrong with the master's order. Due to his old age, paralysis, and obsession with immortality, the master's youthful wisdom and decisiveness had completely vanished...

"Yes."

He couldn't refuse.

After transmitting secret orders to Umbrella's Paris headquarters, the butler returned, hesitating to speak.

"Master, regarding Director Russell's harsh questioning at the board meeting about Raccoon City... should we really just keep stalling? Director Russell's dissatisfaction could even lead to Umbrella's split..."

"Stall."

Spencer had mixed feelings about Vera.

If Vera were an ordinary corporate executive daring to question him like this at the board meeting, Spencer would dare send U.S.S. to make her commit suicide with eight bullets in the back.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible...

At least not now.

The cyber-prosthetics technology Vera controlled and her talents were a lifeline Spencer absolutely couldn't abandon after William Birkin's problems.

Moreover, Vera wouldn't be easy to kill. Her security team and U.S.F. Security Forces also included elite veterans from Eastern Europe's 1991 upheaval—former KGB and Interior Ministry personnel who couldn't survive the economic collapse and downsizing. They were no worse than U.S.S.

Add her massive patent rights bringing enormous profits to the company—she could make money, was good at making money, was young, and had many supporters within Umbrella.

"Just now, our informant planted in the California branch reported that Director Russell seems to know about our secrets in Raccoon City..."

After a pause, the butler continued: "She's also beginning to specifically dig into our company's past hidden secrets..."

"Who?!"

Now Spencer couldn't sit still.

In the past, he trusted Vera and gave her important responsibilities partly because she genuinely had the capability.

On the other hand, she was young—too young. She joined the company late as an outsider from a new faction. She couldn't possibly know details about the company's past buried scandals, and she genuinely wasn't interested in virology, focusing on leading Umbrella's transformation in her own field.

Spencer never considered the possibility that Vera might know the company's past secrets. Those secrets were older than she was. So what made Vera investigate in this direction? What did she know?

"It was a survivor from the mansion incident—former Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. member Chris Redfield. He infiltrated the industrial park, posed as a company employee, and made Director Russell suspect William Birkin was making moves, so she met with him..."

"Just because of such a small fry?! This was Wesker's responsibility, wasn't it? He's also wast— cough cough cough..."

With William Birkin flirting with U.S. military leadership and betraying them, Spencer was so angry he started coughing.

"Where is he? Kill him! Eliminate all S.T.A.R.S. survivors! Clean up everyone connected!"

Butler: "Director Russell didn't completely believe his one-sided story. She dispatched a team and had him infiltrate back into Raccoon City to collect evidence..."

"Then have our people clean up all evidence in Raccoon City! Pin the blame on William Birkin, drag it out as long as possible, cough cough..."

The butler quickly handed over cough medicine and water, then withdrew.

"..."

After taking the medicine, Spencer felt much better. In silence, the TV continued broadcasting news about Raccoon City's "cannibalistic" infectious disease. After a long while, he operated his wheelchair, slowly moving to the castle window. His cloudy old eyes looked through the antique crystal glass toward the dense forest swaying in the wind beside the castle.

"...Why do you dismiss virology so disdainfully? If it were you, with your talents, you could surely make me... yes, there's still a chance..."

...

September 25, 1998

Raccoon City.

Under gloomy skies and rising and falling police sirens, the brightly lit city was in complete chaos—collapsed burning buildings, traffic arteries completely blocked by vehicles, blaring broadcasts, fleeing crowds, inhuman howls...

Perhaps even God couldn't bear to watch the carnage happening in the city. After deafening thunder, lightning streaked across the sky, turning the pitch-black night ghastly white, followed by steady, pattering rain.

In a small room, walls covered with strange documents, maps, and photos.

Jill Valentine awoke from some vague, bone-chilling creaking sound.

She snapped her eyes open, rolled out of bed, instinctively grabbed the gun from her nightstand, aimed it, and alertly observed everything around her.

A few seconds later, by the dim glow of a table lamp, Jill relaxed after seeing her surroundings clearly.

This was her rental apartment in Raccoon City.

On the walls were evidence she'd collected over two months about Umbrella's illegal biological research, plus some materials about the culprit that turned people into zombies—the T-virus.

The radio periodically interrupted with updates—Umbrella telling citizens everything was under control, the city government suggesting citizens shelter in place, programs insisting this was Umbrella's fault, and programs persistently defending Umbrella...

Jill put on her boots, got out of bed, and walked to the wall covered with documents and photos, casually pulling down a note.

"Damn it... Umbrella created this disaster but all Raccoon City residents have to bear it. Each night's worse than the last... In a few more days, according to the agreement with Chris, I can leave Raccoon City with this evidence and materials."

She picked up the note, which contained experience she'd gained from observing Raccoon City's biohazard situation.

"Damn T-virus."

She thought the mansion nightmare was over, but it had turned out to be so prolonged.

Raccoon City had been turned into a hellish city by this damned T-virus. When she went out for supplies the day before, the entire city had already descended into complete chaos. Just hearing the description of that "cannibalism disease," Jill knew it was the T-virus.

Just then, ring ring ring—

The phone? "Who could be calling?" Following the sound, Jill picked up the Motorola brick phone from the landline. Beep. "Hello? This is Jill..."

"Jill, are you okay?"

"Chris? It's you." Jill's face lit up with joy. "Didn't you go to Europe? Did you collect solid evidence of Umbrella's illegal research?"

"No, to make a long story short, listen to me first. Immediately—I mean immediately—pack up all the evidence and documents you've collected, prepare defensive weapons, get basic protection ready. I've already returned from Europe, departed from San Francisco, and am about to reach Raccoon City...

Your location—your current position may be compromised. Umbrella wants to destroy all evidence in Raccoon City, and you're likely listed as a target for elimination... Anyway, relocate first, to the west side of the city. My team and I will enter Raccoon City from the western direction and rendezvous with you."

"Wait, what are you saying? You're with Umbrella forces?" Jill's voice suddenly rose several degrees.

"This isn't easy to explain. I am with Umbrella forces, but not with the Raccoon City Umbrella forces..."

"Is there a difference?"

"Sigh, Jill, anyway, trust me. Relocate first, stay safe, as fast as possible." Beep! The call ended.

Jill stared blankly as she put down the phone. "Chris, what the hell are you up to?"

Though confused, the trust and bond forged through shared hardships during S.T.A.R.S. made Jill immediately spring into action, stuffing the documents, photos, copies, film rolls, and everything else from the walls into her travel bag. Just as Jill finished packing and began checking her pistol, police shotgun, and ammunition:

Knock knock.

Someone at the door.

Jill's head snapped up. She hadn't ordered takeout! Her S.T.A.R.S. teammates basically weren't in Raccoon City right now, and her police colleagues were probably all working overtime given the current situation.

Connecting this to what Chris had just said—Umbrella's assassination squad! Jill's eyes immediately sharpened. She chambered a round in the shotgun, shouldered her travel bag, and quietly crept forward.

Knock knock.

Knock knock.

The knocking continued a few more times, then stopped. As if guessing the occupant was asleep, or trying to determine if anyone was inside, the sound of lock picks working followed.

Click.

The door opened. Hidden to one side, Jill focused her attention to the extreme. The moment a gun barrel first poked through the doorway, Jill moved. "Umbrella dogs!" She raised the shotgun. Bang!

Gunfire erupted. She could see a figure in black combat gear with a red and white umbrella logo fall.

Instantly, rat-tat-tat—

Heavy gunfire broke out.

...

Meanwhile, on the west side of Raccoon City.

A convoy of heavy multi-purpose transport vehicles broke through the rain, arriving at a gas station.

Bang!

An explosion rang out. A crouched figure gnawing on something had its entire upper body blown to pieces, flying backward.

"Has it already spread this far?" Getting out of the vehicle, fully armed Chris looked at the mangled corpse at his feet, his expression grim, then put another bullet in its head.

He exchanged glances with the U.S.F. mobile unit members behind him, then put on his helmet.

"Attention, we've entered Raccoon City. Operation begins."

---

P.S.: Looking at the timing, this is ahead of schedule. In Resident Evil 3 Remake, it's the 28th, but here it's the 25th—Nemesis hasn't been deployed yet.