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Partners	By : onionbelt Category: +M through R > Resident Evil Views: 5488 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters and make no money with this story. It's just for fun.

Chapter List
- 15
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- 17
The T-Virus has been available on the black market in small amounts for decades, ever since it became the wonder glue that held Umbrella's bioweapons research together. It was always prohibitively expensive for anyone who didn't have a major corporation backing the purchase.
The theory at the BSAA is that early in 2004, the handful of Umbrella's researchers that haven't been arrested, killed, scooped up by Umbrella's competitors, or put to work in some nation's black-bag weapons program (nobody can prove that last has happened, but everyone assumes it must have) make a break for it. New identities and no-questions-asked flights to South America both take money, which means the ex-researchers try to sell everything they can find that isn't nailed down or on fire. The result is that the black market gets flooded with Umbrella-era bioweapons, the price of which drops to the point where they're competitive with conventional ballistics.
This theory is wrong, of course, and most of the outbreaks in 2004 and early 2005 can be traced back to Frederic Downing. Nobody knows that until Leon Kennedy arrests him, and as far as Chris is concerned, it doesn't matter. Suddenly, everyone with a grudge has access to BOWs or the raw T-Virus, which leads to a huge spike in bioterrorism early in 2004, and many of the nations that dismissed or ignored the BSAA are suddenly looking for its help.

"I know how you're trained," Chris says. "You've been drilled for your entire lives to always go for the center of mass. It's smart thinking, but it's not the best play here."
He half-turns. Quint Cetcham's on the projector, and he puts up an image of a zombie. Thankfully, it's one of their file pictures of a T-Virus infectee, and not one of the film stills that Quint is prone to use.
"A person who has fully succumbed to the T-Virus looks like this," Chris says. He's grimacing and he can't help it. Seeing a carrier is always going to come with a full dose of sense memory and he wants to puke his guts up. "Go ahead and call it a 'zombie' if you want. I do."
A couple of the cops laugh awkwardly, but not like it's actually funny. He's facing maybe a hundred SWAT and patrol officers from all across New York, everyone who could be pulled off the street to attend his briefing, and most of them are giving him what Chris has come to recognize as a uniquely New York are-you-shitting-me stare.
"If they die from the virus, or succumb to injuries with the virus in their system, they reanimate. At this point, you're looking at a dead man. Whoever they were, they are dead and they are not coming back." Chris puts firm emphasis on the last few words out of a sense of obligation, but he's been on the road giving this speech for about four months now. Most of these guys either don't believe him or won't until after they see their first zombie. This speech will only save the smart and the quick, which doesn't cover as many people as he'd prefer. "Their hearts stop, their body begins to rot, and they get back up, looking to attack and eat anything living that they can find. They aren't smart or fast, but they don't get tired and they don't stop unless you make them."
Quint changes over to a different picture. It's a picture of a zombie they fought a couple of months ago in Fuzhou, the corpse of a middle-aged Chinese man who'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a bullet hole high in his forehead. Chris knows what it'll be and doesn't look, although it sends an uneasy whisper through the room.
"Shoot them in the head," Chris says. "If you aim anywhere else, they may drop eventually, but it takes time and ammunition you probably won't have. Sever the brain stem or destroy the brain and the zombie dies permanently.
"That's it. Any questions?"
A lot of hands go up, and Chris does his best to sigh without making it look obvious.

"The problem is that there are a lot of rumors about the T-Virus," Quint says, "and most of 'em make a lot more sense than the actual T-Virus does."
Chris nods.
"I mean, really, I want to know how the hell it violates the square-cube law, and where it gets the energy to fuel the mutations--"
"I know, Quint."
"Sorry."
One of the first things Clive O'Brian did was split Chris up from Jill and assign them both a rotating cast of new partners. O'Brian's reasoning was that, as two of the most highly experienced counter-bioterror operatives in the world, it wasn't efficient to have both Chris and Jill in the same place at the same time. The bitch of it is that Chris is pretty sure he was right, but that doesn't change the fact that he hasn't seen Jill in three months.
Quint Cetcham's a talker, and has about sixty different ways to burn off nervous energy that are all equally obnoxious. On the plus side, he's smart, he's surprisingly brave, and he's amazing with technology, which has been a big help over the last couple of weeks.
"I think that last one was a keeper," Quint says. He's got a camcorder linked to his notebook computer with a thin black cable, and whatever he's doing is making the notebook's hard drive whine like a power drill. "I'm uploading it to our home server for editing, and once O'Brian gives us the go-ahead, I think we can make that one more widely available. You did good."
"Doesn't feel like it."
"Ah, screw 'em, right? You're doing the best you can. The last few you did weren't you, it was the audience."
Something plays a five-second clip of obnoxious Japanese pop music, and Quint pats himself down. Chris rolls his eyes and puts one hand on his temple, massaging it with his first two fingers. Quint eventually finds his cell phone inside a pocket in his cargo pants, but instead of answering it, he looks confused.
"Does the word 'arclight' mean anything to you?"
Chris looks up. "Yeah. Why?"
"Keith just sent it to me as a text message. Nothing else."
"Where is he?"
"He and Jill are in Los Angeles--"
Chris stands up. "Send him a message back. Just say 'received.' I'm calling O'Brian and then I'm going to L.A."
"Hang on. What's an arclight?"
"It was an aerial operation during Vietnam," Chris says. He's already throwing his things into his suitcase. "It means Jill's in trouble, and she needs--" The situation has degenerated beyond saving and she needs him to come in and leave the entire area a smoking, lifeless crater. It's a term from the old days. "--extraction."
"You guys have code words? Like Modesty Blaise and Willie Garvin? That's so cool--"
"Quint."
"Right. Old partner in trouble. Got it." Quint unplugs the camcorder from the notebook. "I can have us out there in five hours if I get us on an Air Force jet."
"Do it."
- 15
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