U.S.S.: Bravo Team - Untold Story

[U.S.S. Tacos]

No recent legitimate stories on the Fan Fiction board? Too bad, here comes one. I do enjoy writing, so I'll keep this updated as much as I can. Feedback is very much appreciated, so I know what I'm doing wrong and what I'm doing right. Do know that I'm trying to make this fit in with the actual RE plot as much as possible, though there may be inconsistencies. Yadda yadda. Anyway.
<This first segment will be dedicated to the introduction.>
_________________________________________________________________________



"U.S.S. Bravo Team, prepare for deployment," the words of our pilot rang
throughout the interior of our helicopter. "E.T.A. three minutes."

A good amount of us were quite shaken-up at the time. The vast
majority of the operatives in Bravo Team were inexperienced, recently having graduated from the training facility on Rockfort Island. For myself, Travis, Teddy, Darius, Wesley, and Kenny, it had been our first time legitimately operating in the field. Gregory had been in a couple of years longer than we had, however, he was by no means a seasoned veteran.
He had participated in only two missions, both of which were precious cargo transport assignments. Jonathan, our captain, was the only one of us to have experienced live combat prior to the Raccoon City operation. The details of his past work were unknown to us.

I worked in the squad as a support operative, with Teddy D. Villalobos as my counterpart. Teddy was an averagely-built Hispanic around five-foot, ten inches tall, with shortly cut dark brown hair at about a quarter-inch in length. He was a relatively decent fellow, though I was quite sure that he had been the most nervous of us all. And, at no surprise, he was the youngest of us, only about nineteen years old, give or take some number of months.


Bravo's pointmen were Travis K. Wilkson and Gregory R. Colton. I
hadn't honestly spoken with Travis much since the team had been assembled,
though it was my understanding that he expressed his opinions a lot, much to
Jonathan's disdain. He was another young member at twenty-two, though we
were all fairly youthful. He was easily noticed by his bleached-blonde
hair and blue eyes.
His partner Gregory never made much fuss about his
experience over the rest of us, in fact, he rarely spoke about his previous
missions. We'd have to bug him constantly to get him to say anything about
them, often failing, but one time or another we managed to get vaguely
interesting stories out of him. Greg was twenty-six, and had wavy black
hair at ear-length. Both Travis and Gregory were well-built due to the nature of their duties.


Darius L. Holmes, our engineer and weapons specialist, was an
African-American at a solid six-foot, three inches tall, and
twenty-eight years of age. He was a mentally-sound individual who was
likely the most teamwork-oriented and mature member of our squad, aside from the captain himself. We all cooperated with one another, of course, but Darius took his job very seriously. He'd have been the most calm and collected of us before we were deployed in Raccoon City. I can't say that I recall ever seeing him not cleanly shaven or bald.


Wesley R. Daniels was the medic, and due to the extended amount of
time he was required to spend with each of us for various medicinal
purposes, he was the friendliest of us. He had no vices with any member of
Bravo Team, save for occasional disagreements with Kenny. I never got to know how old he was, but I'd place him somewhere between nineteen and
twenty-one years old. Despite his youth, he was very well trained in
medical operations, specifically, those of fast-paced field medical operations. He was very bright, and had he not been under the employment of the Umbrella Security Service, I'd have thought he'd become a doctor of some sort. He sported a neatly trimmed and parted haircut, his hair being
of a very light brown, almost red color.


Kenny A. Fisher was a bit of a loner, in a way, and it could be
said with ease that he didn't get along well with others. As rear security, he spent little time with the rest of the squad, anyway. The only times he wasn't keeping to himself were times that he were arguing with any number of us over mundane things. He was a bit of an ass, indeed, but we could
still trust him to keep us safe if we were to ever be surprised from our
six.
He had rather long brown hair and hazel eyes, and was about the same
height as Teddy. He was twenty-four. He hadn't made a sound the entire time
we were in the helicopter, but I could tell he was having a hard time finding his bearings. He wouldn't stop tapping his foot, and his gaze was locked outside of the window. I could just barely hear the sound of his gloves stretching as he tightly gripped his MP5. Maybe it was fear, maybe
it had just been eagerness. It was always difficult to read his emotions.


Our captain, Jonathan F. Gimbley, was likely in his early-to-mid
thirties. He gave off that distinct vibe that most U.S.S. vets did; cold, emotionless, stern, and almost inhuman. He was, however, viciously effective in combat. We'd seen his precision and swiftness in
target-practice, and additionally, heard many rumors of his actions in successfully containing various B.O.W.s across several Umbrella facilities.
Another rumor was that he'd been enlisted with the Umbrella Security
Service ever since its founding in the 1980s. Given what we had known about
him on the surface, we had no reason to not believe such tales. His brown hair was slightly fading gray in some locations, notably in his sideburn-area, had faint gray-blue eyes, and was frequently spotted unshaven on his face. Everyone respected him, but for a great part feared
him as well. He was probably six-foot, five inches tall, ironically being
the tallest.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

I sat in the middle of the back-most bench in the cabin of the helicopter, with my MP5, helmet, and gas mask resting on my lap. I spent most of that time watching out the glass as we flew over the Arklay forest,considering a nap at one point, but then deciding against it. Beside me to
my right was Teddy, hands slightly shaking while holding a lit cigarette that he occasionally took heavy drags from. I nudged him in the side with my elbow.


"Hey, man, take it easy," I began to say to him as calmly as I could. "It'll be just like the training exercises. Guarantee it." He turned to me, with his tongue poking around in his cheeks.

"You think so? I mean, this is the real deal.. This is it. This isn't training..." He replied with a rather gloom expression over his face.

"We know what we're gonna be up against," I continued. "We've already got the upper hand on those chumps in the U.B.C.S. Eh? We go in, collect what we need, and we get out. Simple as that."


He paused, then began nodding in agreement, though I could tell I hadn't fully convinced him we'd come out without a scratch. He continued pulling on his cigarette, all the way down to the filter, before throwing it out of the open cabin door. Moments later, the cabin was flooded with a
red light illuminating from above us, indicating preparation.

Everyone began strapping on their masks and helmets, loading firearms, checking
equipment, etcetera. Jonathan, on the adjacent side of the cabin to the left, began talking in his usual monotone, heavy voice, muffled through his
mask now. Outside, I could see the forest landscape becoming paved highway roads as the seconds passed. Raccoon City was easily visible in the distance, still illuminated from artificial sources of light.

"Reports from U.B.C.S. troops in the city suggest that the helipad of Raccoon General Hospital is inaccessible. We will instead be dropped at a nearby office building roof, just a block away. It should be relatively safe for us to move from there." He told us all. Travis spoke up quickly.

"Sir, what is it, exactly, that we are retrieving from Raccoon General?"
Travis was returned with momentary silence, before Jonathan actually
answered.

"For the time being, the contents of our objective should be of no
importance to you, or anybody else participating in this mission."


We knew better than to further push the topic. We had already entered Raccoon City's airspace by the time Jonathan had finished with his highly-motivating speech. All of us were geared up and ready to deploy. In less than thirty seconds, our chopper was hovered directly above a building
not far from what appeared to be the hospital, and we were lowered down onto its roof.

The red light turned green as soon as we hit the gravel, and everyone poured out, firearms drawn. I made my way about ten feet away from the chopper and knelt on my right knee, weapon raised. On one corner of the building's roof was where the chopper had landed, and the opposite corner
directly across was the roof access door. I kept my aim fixed on that door
after checking my surroundings.


After everyone was out, the helicopter lifted back into the air,
and took off, leaving us in desolate silence with the sound of its blades
ripping through the air slowly fading away.
The roof was totally derelict and free of any type of danger. As everyone began regrouping by the door, I took one quick peek over the ledge to see the city streets below. It was a
total mess, almost as if a tornado had passed through and left endless amounts of street rubbish strewn about.
Pedestrian vehicles as well as law enforcement cruisers blocked up the street, with some overlapping onto sidewalks, crashed into one another. It was very apparent that the outbreak had been met with extreme panic from all walks of life, with no regards for
a badge and a uniform. Most notable was the sheer number of corpses
scattered in between vehicles and destroyed sidewalk clutter. Yet, no sign of B.O.W.s.


Nonetheless, I proceeded to the door with the rest of my comrades. I approached to see Travis and Darius struggling to pull it open, it was obvious that it was locked, but not through the means of a conventional lock. It gave way slightly with each budge, indicating that it was likely
sealed with a pad-lock.

"No good," Darius said. "I'll have to blow out the hinges. I suggest everyone moves away somewhere more safe."

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

I wasted no time and moved back a sufficient distance from the
doorway, as with the rest of Bravo team, and watched as Darius took his bag
off of his shoulders and unzipped it, digging through.
He slid from it a metal case, which he set on the ground before him. He opened it carefully to expose what I could assume was plastic explosives, though only took from
it a small amount.
He quickly re-sealed the case, replaced it in his bag, and took the explosives to the door. It took him a minute to properly place it onto the door's hinges, as he took his time, but after he did, he grabbed up his bag and moved towards us. From his utility belt, he retrieved a small remote. I braced myself as Darius extended an antennae from the device, and pressed a button.
The explosives blew, and quite loudly at that. I'd imagine everything within a two-to-three block radius heard it. I anxiously looked around, and then moved up with the squad.


The door remained in place, but was severely damaged to the point that all we required for access was Travis kicking it in one time. It gave way without resistance. Jonathan called from the rear of the group.
"Payton, Teddy, up front with Travis and Gregory," he ordered. "Keep your formation tight!"

Teddy and I promptly jogged up just behind the two pointmen. It was clear at this point that it was total darkness inside, so the four of us clicked on our flashlights attached to the barrels of our firearms. The door's hinges were on the side opposite to the stairs, so the mostly destroyed door provided some cover for us as it still hung from the padlock.
Though, it only permitted for one individual passing through at any given moment, lest we waste more time attempting to get it out of the way. Travis entered first, his weapon firmly aimed down the stairs. He trotted down the narrow stairwell, and the three of us followed.


At the landing where the stairs turned off was the body of a civilian. It didn't appear to be from a B.O.W. attack, but rather suicide through gunshot to the head. It caught my attention due to the fact that there were no signs of struggle throughout the rest of the stairwell as we reached the bottom, no other corpses, totally clean.
We got to the end door at the bottom, and Travis opened it up without hesitation. The four of us spilled into the hallway that the door opened to and checked both ways,
totally empty.
Teddy radioed to the rest of Bravo.

"All clear," he started. "Repeat, it is clear for you to proceed."

We stood by as we waited for our teammates, Teddy and I facing the right way of the hall, and Travis and Gregory aimed down the left. We could hear them coming down the stairs above us, but Teddy and I also heard Gregory loudly whisper to us from behind.

"Contact..!"

"What is it?" I asked him. I turned over my shoulder to face Gregory, who was still locked on that hallway.

"No clue.. Definitely saw something cross my flashlight," he explained. "Trav', you see that, too?"

"Can't say I didn't," Travis answered with a very sure voice. "We oughtta hold for now."


With that, the rest of Bravo came into the hallway from the stairwell, Kenny shutting the door behind him. Gregory made a distinct 'shh' noise, and everyone stopped in their tracks, instead scanning the hall from beside the stairwell access as we were. We all waited and listened closely for any noise.
Then, it became more noticable. It was a sound of papers being shuffled or crumpled - perhaps both. From the end of the hall the pointmen had been staring down for the past minute and a half, the noise continued, though it didn't seem to move in any particular direction.

"Pointmen and support, move up." Jonathan said lowly.

I cursed under my breath, and I'm sure Teddy did the same as we reluctantly stepped down the hall just behind Gregory and Travis. They quickly peeled around the hallway corner, Greg knelt and Travis standing behind him. I stuck out my right hand and placed it on Teddy's shoulder, as a signal to slow down as we neared corner.

"Clear!" Travis shouted down the way we came from.

Teddy and I eased up a bit, seeing down that hall there was papers scattered all over the floors, and a couple of rats skittering away at the sight of us.

"Bull****," Gregory spoke up. "What passed my flashlight was no rat. Definitely larger."
Travis sighed and turned to him, visibly annoyed, even with his mask on.

"Son of a bitch, do you want us on more **** detail? Or what?" he complained.



"Travis!" Jonathan yelled. "Find a spine, and proceed until the ENTIRE hallway has been cleared!"

"Rooms too?!" Travis called back.

"We'll handle that once you've cleared the hall, but first, you have to actually CLEAR THE HALL..! Now move your ass! No more questions out of you, you're on thin ice!"

I stifled my laughter while Travis made angry grunts and noises beneath his mask. Gregory shook his head, and took point, Travis, Teddy, and myself following close behind. We followed the hall to a fork, the path straight ahead ending abruptly at a stairwell and elevator, the other leading to yet
another hall.
I started paying more attention to the brown-crimson stains in the carpet and the way things just seemed generally more messy the further we progressed. Pictures on the wall were now either totally off-center, or on the floor with their frames ****tered. Every door we had passed was closed, except for one near the final end of the hall.

By the door was a water dispenser, with the tank knocked out. Water still soaked the carpet, and our footsteps became squishy as we came to this exposed room. With no hesitation, we moved into a breach formation - I covered them from the right side of the door, Gregory was crouched directly to the left of the door, and Travis stood planted on the wall just beside Gregory along with Teddy.

I brought up three fingers, and counted down without speaking. On my signal, Gregory moved in, still crouched. Travis followed in immediately, as did Teddy. Travis and Gregory peeled left, I
followed Teddy in to the right.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

It was an office that would have likely belonged to some kind of
manager or supervisor. Nicely polished wooden desk, rubber ferns, bookshelf
filled with blank-cover books... The works. To my surprise, and dread,
there was movement just behind the desk. It was very difficult to identify
just what the sound was - some kind of sopping, wet noise, followed by
light clacking.
Gregory remained crouched, Teddy and I remained to the
right side of the room, and Travis decided to grow a pair and check the
sounds. He walked cautiously around the table, finger on the trigger of his
weapon. He stopped the second that he reached a point where whatever was
under the table would be visible.

I got uneasy real fast, and had to know what made Travis freeze up. I came around the desk from the right, to see on the blood-soaked carpet a man with his throat being fed into by a dog. Or - what would have been a dog prior to viral infection.
Its body was facing Travis, so, as it slowly began to see that there was a light being shone onto it, the man on the ground became old news. It appeared to be a fresh kill - the man likely
being what Gregory and Travis saw before.

Growls rumbled through the gored throat of the beast, and it
lowered itself into an attack position. I realized I, too, was in shock, and snapped out of it. Travis backed away after seeing me raise my MP5, but by that point, the creature had lept at Travis.

He screamed and dropped his gun, with his left arm being clamped on by the dog's jaws. I subsequently fired in three-round bursts at it, after two bursts it had been weakened enough for Travis to throw it off of him. I finished it off with another burst to the skull.

"Travis is injured!" Teddy shouted into his mic. "We need Wesley down here! Quick!"

I threw my gun over my shoulder on its sling, and rushed to a now
slumped-against-the-wall Travis. Gregory helped me pull up Travis, and I
cleared the table off completely with my free hand. We then set Travis onto the table.


"You guys watch him, I'll go and make sure they know where we are!" I told.

"Just go!" Gregory shrieked at me.

I ran back out into the hallway as fast as I could, nearly tripping. I brought my MP5 back to my hands, shining the flashlight before me as I reached the fork. I turned right around the corner to see the rest of Bravo approaching fast.

"Come on!" I called out.

Wesley came sprinting past me, and I trailed behind him. I looked back to see the others securing the hallway. As we entered the office, I saw Gregory and Teddy struggling to hold down Travis, who was crying out in pain and tossing himself around. I rushed to assist, while Wesley dug
around in his medical pouch. He filled up a syringe with some clear liquid.

"Get his right sleeve up," Wesley began telling us. "The arm that's not
injured."

I tore off Travis' glove and rolled his sleeve up to expose his forearm. Wesley flicked the needle a couple times, patted Travis' forearm, and managed to calmly push the needle into Travis' vein while he was squirming around.
After injecting the fluids, he returned the empty needle to his bag. Travis began to calm down, and eventually, fell unconscious. I stopped Wesley before he could continue operating on Travis.

"You don't want to do that in here," I said. "Potential host of the virus
right behind that desk."

I pointed at the dead male on the floor. Now that I had the time to pay closer attention, it appeared that the man on the floor was a U.B.C.S. agent. It wasn't as obvious before, considering that most of his uniform was shredded.
Why was a U.B.C.S. operative running away from us?

"You want to help me get him out of here, then? Or are you going to make friends with the merc' over there?" Wesley snapped at me.

"Yeah.. Yeah, alright, come on." I grabbed Travis' arms, while Wesley grabbed his legs.

Teddy and Gregory left the room to give us space. I lifted him up, and with the help of Wesley, carried him out of the room.

"Where are we supposed to keep him?" I asked.

"Roof seems like our only safe choice right now!"

We carried Travis all the way back to the stairwell while the rest of the squad covered us. We brought him up the stairs, and squeezed past the destroyed door.
On the far end of the roof is where we began to set Travis down. I made sure not to drop him hard, or anything of the sort, and let go of him after his back was settled all the way on the gravel. Before anything could happen, an angered Jonathan stormed to me.

"What in the HELL is this?" He growled. "Not even a damn hour into the mission and we already have a casualty! What do you even receive training for? Huh!?"

My eyes dilated and I tensed up quick.

"I-I, uhm.. I-... Sir, it was a very close-quarters encounter.. Th-, the probability of injury from that close proximity was pretty high..." I stuttered.

"All of your god-damned training is close-quarters based! Have y-..."
Suddenly, Jonathan stopped talking. He turned his head to the right,
silent.

"..Sir?"

"Shut the hell up, and listen..."

Indeed, I could hear something I hadn't heard the first time we
were on the roof. I looked around for a source, and peered down the ledge
to the front entrance of the office building.
Every single hair on the back of my neck stood like needles. Swarms, massive swarms of B.O.W.s shuffling in the street just by the doors, some attempting to break through.
The explosion, they must have heard it. I could feel blood leaving my face and
adrenaline slowly making my heart beat faster. My hands nearly went numb.

Teddy was right - this wasn't training at all. In fact, we weren't trained for anything remotely like that to have happened. But, we were trained to react quickly and think quickly. It became obvious pretty damned fast that the office building was no longer an option for us.

"Sir... You need to take a look.." I slowly began to tell. "Actually, everyone needs to see.."

I beckoned to everybody else, who were probably about 20-25 feet away. Everyone came to the ledge and saw what I had seen.

"Mother f..." Kenny started. "Now what?!"

"We find a way the hell out of this building, that's what!" Teddy replied.

"You want to go down there and become the main course for those sons of bitches?!"

"We can't stay here!"

"What would you suggest, then? Huh? What's your bright idea? How're you gonna save our skins?"

"Christ, shut the hell up!" Darius shouted. "Couple of damn kids, bickering at each other! Now is not the time... Our best bet is to try and find some kind of sewer access inside the building, since we sure as hell aren't heading out that way."

"That's all we've got," Jonathan began. "Darius, I want you to take Payton, Teddy, and Kenny with you to try and find some kind of utility tunnel in the basement here. Obviously, those three need to get their boots dirty. Maintain communication as frequently as you can. The rest of us will remain up here until you can find what we're looking for. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Darius looked back at us. "Alright, let's get moving, now, while we've still got time."

Darius made pace to the stairwell, with me, Teddy, and Kenny following behind. I had worries that the pairing of those two would be trouble, but I had to bite my tongue, and try to assist with getting the job done as best as I could.

~~~​

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

~~~
"Everything checks out," Wesley said, setting down the small light he had been shining directly into my eye. "You're good to go. Hey, Payton, do me a favor? Keep a close watch on Ted, I don't need his asthma becoming an issue while we're out there. Nobody needs that."

"You got it," I went on, standing from the stool. "How're you feeling about all of this, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. We never heard back from Delta, and apparently they're reassembling that team."

"Delta was under totally separate circumstances, which I'm sure we won't face," Wesley reassured me while writing something on a notepad. "As far as I'm concerned, at least. Take it easy, you know? The more you worry, the more likely something bad is to happen."

"You've got a point. Who's up for the next examination?"

"Fisher."

"Ooh, how exciting. Play nice, eh?" I gave Wesley a pat on the shoulder as I walked past him to the door of his office.

I turned right as I closed the door, with the sound of my boots against the metal floor seeming to echo. I continued on until I got to the next steel door on the same side of the wall, turned the knob, and found myself again in Bravo's barracks. Teddy, Darius, and Gregory were in their bunks. Gregory was conversating with Darius from across the tight room, while Teddy was idle with a paper-back book.

"Hey, where's Kenny? He's up for the next exam." I asked, to no one particular person.

"Mess hall with Travis," Darius turned to me saying. "I think."

"No way I'm walking all the way down there. Someone go tell him."

"I already had my turn," Gregory chimed in. "Guess I'll go do it." He pulled himself up from his bed and headed for the door.

"Be my guest." I stepped away and sat on the empty bunk next to Teddy. "What've you got there?" I asked, reaching over and pulling the book up a little to read the cover. " 'Where the Red Fern Grows'? Are you really reading this crap before the mission?"

"Give me a break," he answered, pulling the book away a few inches. "It's a good one."

"Whatever you say, man," I pressed my back up against the stiff pillow on the bed. "Me, though? I'm trying to catch some snooze before I get wound up in a bunch of bull**** out there. Might be our last chance to do so." I realized I probably shouldn't have said the last part when I noticed the change of expression on Teddy's face after I did.

"I heard that," Darius said from the top of the bunk above me. I could feel the bunk bed's frame move as he shifted around on the mattress. "Wake me up when it's time, would you, Ted?"

"Fine.." he glanced at me one time before he returned to his book. I actually felt a little bad.

"Tell you what," I told him, sitting up once more. "I won't go to sleep, I'll stay up with you until it's time. Got any other books?"

"Oh. Well, okay. Uh," he set down the book with the pages facing the bed, and pulled his footlocker out from underneath the frame of the bunk. He popped it open and fiddled around for a couple of moments. "Nothing you'd be interested in."

"Got smokes?"

"Go nuts." he threw a pack of cheap cigarettes my direction, and I caught it. I slid a zippo lighter out of my pocket and nodded to him. I then took a cigarette from the pack, placed it on my lip, and lit it.

"Actually," Teddy went on. "Give me one." I looked into the pack, to see that most of them were gone.

"You sure? You shouldn't even be smoking to begin with," I told him. "Oughtta ease up with the tobacco."

"It calms me down.."

"Sure won't be when you start having trouble breathing. Come on, Teddy, just put it away."

He answered only with a sigh. I held out the pack to him and he took it, tossing it in the footlocker which he sent back underneath the bunk. I relaxed myself onto the mattress, and made sure not to sleep, tired as I was. I yawned and went on with smoking the cigarette, making sure to not get too much smoke in Teddy's direction.

~~~


Hastily, we rushed down that familiar hallway towards the next stairwell and elevator. We stopped behind Darius, who checked the buttons on the panel to the elevator. He gave one neck-swipe signal, meaning it didn't work. He instead went to the already-open stairwell next to the elevator, and rushed down the stairs, though not without caution.
I looked over the railing, and while I couldn't see the bottom, it could be assumed that the stairs went beyond the ground floor. Everyone slowed down as we neared the doorway to the ground floor, knowing what very well may be just outside.

The door was still shut, though, so we were able to pass without detection. There were more papers scattered around, the whole place generally being a mess as with the rest of the office building. There were two corpses in the stairwell that we had seen, so far, with one being by the door, the other being on the next landing below.
It was evident that they were eaten alive, judging by the bite wounds and exposure of internal organs in some places. This was a particular threat, as they could potentially come back as infected individuals. I paid much attention to those bodies until they were out of sight.
As I had assumed, the stairs did in fact keep going beyond the ground floor, however for only one more set of stairs. We had found what Darius was probably talking about, it was a sturdy
door that read 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' on a plastic plaque. Darius tried the door, and as we had expected, it was locked. There was a card-reader on the wall to the right of the door.

"It's sealed by magnetic lock," Darius told us. "I don't see much chance of us breaking through unless we want to attract more attention - and we don't. We need to search for a card we can use on this lock."

"I say we go back upstairs to the room Travis got hurt in," I said from the back of the group. "Looked like an administration-type office, and that U.B.C.S. guy must've ran in there for something."

"Sounds better than wandering around this entire building looking for a four-inch piece of plastic." Kenny answered.

"Alright. That's better than nothing. Let's not waste any time."

We followed Darius back up the stairs the way we came. I had a feeling that something was off, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what that was. I shook off the feeling, and kept my eyes peeled.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

We got to the third floor without occasion, and made our way to the hall where the office was. We were halted by Darius, who raised his left hand and gave a 'stop' signal, balling his fist. I braced myself. There was a very distinct groaning coming from the office, and it was quite apparent what the source was.
Darius proceeded ahead of us while we waited roughly halfway into the hall. He knelt to the right of the door, and peeked in. He signaled for us to move forward, and so we did, and when we got to the doorway, all of our flashlights illuminated the room as well as the re-animated U.B.C.S. operative inside.

Its groaning was quite stressed due to the massive loss of flesh in its throat. The webbing of the former operative's vest hung loosely from its torso, with the portion on its left part almost totally destroyed. Kenny laid down the first shots, one round landed on its throat, three to the chest.
It staggered backwards, but was not stopped, it only paused for a short moment before coming back towards us faster than it previously had. Kenny finished it with a second burst of rounds, as some of the rounds found their way to its skull.

It landed on the floor with a heavy 'thud', and we sped into the room. The other three scattered about, searching the desk, bookshelf, and file cabinets. I instead approached the fallen U.B.C.S. troop and flipped him over onto his back. I dug through the pockets of whatever was left of the uniform.
In his vest pouches were small amounts of ammunition, two magazines of 9mm rounds, and one round type I couldn't tell the caliber of. It must have been for an assault rifle of some sort, so I assumed it was 5.56mm rounds, which was of no use to me. I put the 9mm magazines into my own pouches, and searched the pockets of his fatigues.

Some balled up bits of paper, personal knick-knacks, and a wallet. I took out the wallet and checked it. No money inside, a U.B.C.S. identification card, cards for other things I had no use for... Lodged in the back of one of the card slots behind three other cards was what assumed to be what we were looking for. I imagined that he had the same goal we did; to gain access to the basement, however he found the card before we had. Though, his plan for escape was cut short. Ours would not be.

"I think I've found it," I told the others. "It's an employee card for this building, I think."

"How do you know? What's on it?" Kenny asked, approaching me from the bookshelf.

"See for yourself." I handed it to him, and he examined it over both sides before returning it to me.

"Haven't found anything in the bookshelf." he said.

"Nothing in the cabinets." Teddy called.

"And nothing in the desk," Darius told us while shutting drawers. "We ought to go try it out on the door lock and see if it works."

I nodded.
We, again, went out to the hall and to the stairwell, for what would be the last time for us. As we neared the first floor, I heard some kind of strange grunt of some sort. There was no easy way to describe it, but it meant trouble for us. The two bodies on the ground floor landing rose up as we got to them, but what was most notable about them was that they were heavily decayed.

Their faces were rotted completely, down to bone and muscle. I felt like I could smell them - even through my gas mask. They were hunched and their spindly fingers almost appeared to be claws. As we were now too close to them in order to turn back, we instead ran straight past them down the stairs.
I was in the back of the group with Kenny, and we both fired on the pursuing B.O.W.s. This did good for slowing them down, but this by no means stopped them. They continued charging our way, almost hissing as a mix of coagulated blood and pus dripped from their mouths.

At this point, my body was filled with adrenaline, and I was completely terrified. I don't know how Kenny and I managed to keep up with the other two who were now working to get the door open. A high pitched 'beep' was all I could hear behind me while I was shooting at the two creatures tumbling down the stairs. Both had tripped over one another which made it increasingly easier to create distance from them, but they still weren't eliminated as threats.

"Come on!" Teddy shouted.

I turned back and saw that the door had been opened, and Teddy was standing in it with Darius just behind him, covering him. I ran to the door with Kenny following me close behind, and after we got in, Darius slammed the door shut. We could still hear the monsters clawing and pounding against the door.

"Kenny, you've got a grenade, don't you?" Darius asked.

"Just one incendiary." he answered.

"Good enough. We can't have the rest of Bravo coming down here with those outside, so we're going to finish them off. Teddy, on my go, you're going to open that door back up. Payton and I will fire on both B.O.W.s to give Kenny sufficient time to throw his grenade. The minute that grenade lands, you close the door. Questions?" Nobody argued the plan. "Good. Everyone get ready."

Teddy positioned himself to the right of the door, I crouched with Darius about eight feet directly from the door, and Kenny was to our left, three feet from the door. Darius gave a countdown from five, and shouted 'go', and with that, the door was thrown open, which staggered the B.O.W.s.
They were met with Darius' bullets as well as my own, which made them both drop to the floor completely. Teddy grabbed the doorknob while Kenny pulled the pin of his incendiary, rolling it over in between the both of them on the floor.
Teddy slammed the door, and seconds later, the grenade blew. We stood by for a short period of time before Teddy re-opened the door, to expose the charred corpses of the two attackers. It was by that point safe to say they were neutralized.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

I immediately pulled my radio off of my belt and squeezed down on the side button.

"Bravo Team major, this is Bravo Team minor, your route to the objective is now cleared. Make haste while you still can, guys."

I turned to the others, sighing and shaking my head. I went and crouched next to the door whilst aiming at the stairwell, waiting for any sign of the rest of Bravo. The entry doors upstairs were still lurching behind the weight of the hordes that pressed against them. It was really only a matter of minutes - or less - before they gave way.

"Come on, where are you..?" I muttered under my breath.

I waited for a long while of silence before I could hear a door open, then the sound of multiple footsteps, and eventually speech. It was obvious that they were now headed downstairs, but they made for poor timing. How coincidental it was that the front doors were burst through just as they were passing, and that they were ill-prepared despite having knowledge of the situation. The four of us clearly heard the glass ****ter and our friends shouting, leading us out of the room we holed ourselves in and back up to the stairs. We were first met with Wesley, who helped carry Travis on his right shoulder. He made no time for talking and went past us as quickly as he could, most likely for Travis' safety.

Next coming down the stairs, now firing wildly behind them, were Jonathan and Gregory. We covered them on their way down and let them pass us to the room below, now being left with the task of fighting the bloody-mouthed cannibals charging down the steps toward us. We backed up while shooting, emptying our magazines as effectively as possible - but there were far too many to accurately place our shots where we wanted them, much of our rounds being wasted altogether. It was like spraying a water gun into a pool, almost, and as soon as I totally depleted my magazine, I rushed back to the room.

I had gone back first, then Kenny followed suit. I turned back and watched, along with the others, as Teddy was overwhelmed by a B.O.W. and thrust to the ground. Darius was very swift in kicking the thing off of Teddy and spraying it with hollow points, though before Teddy could give his thanks, Darius himself was toppled over by four more B.O.W.s.

I could hear Teddy beginning to crack, likely crying behind his mask now, as he scrambled to his feet and sprinted to the room, leaving his gun behind in the process. There was no helping Darius now. His cries for rescue were indistinguishable from the groans and roars of hunger heard by the zombies now amassing around him. By the time Teddy hit the ground, there were already too many. By the time Darius hit the ground, the entire city was down the stairs and ready to feast. Darius saving Teddy rather than himself sealed his fate. We had no choice but to shut the door on him while he was being torn apart.

I locked up the door, and stared at the floor for a good few moments, my thoughts marinating on the sounds of Darius being devoured. He was still screaming out there, suffering what sounded like an agonizing and slow death. I turned away from the door to the others, our team now looking as if in mourning. Teddy's helmet and mask were beside him, he was sobbing heavily. Jonathan helped Wesley with tending to Travis. Kenny stood but a few feet from me, speechless, and I knew that he had seen everything that I saw moments before. And Gregory, he just sat on the other side of the room by himself, not a word to say, while keeping a gaze on his fellow pointman.

The room itself looked like not much more than a maintenance closet with two doors. On the right of where I was facing, against the wall, was a single metal shelf with cleaning agents covering the surfaces. Typical cleaning tools scattered about; mops, blue plastic buckets stacked on one another, a couple of brooms, and various dusters. The walls were not painted, and the floor was solid concrete. The door to the sewer access seemed a heavy one, made of metal.

I looked away from Kenny and made my way to a distressed Theodore, sitting on the floor next to him and taking off my mask. He was in an upright fetal position, had his hands hard-pressed over his ears with his face stuffed into his legs. I began to wonder how someone so green could have even made it into the U.S.S. to begin with.

"You okay in there?" I said to him.

He looked up to me, his face now red, eyes even moreso, with tears drying out on the surfaces of his cheeks. He was shaking like a cold dog at this point. I could tell that he wanted to burst out crying like a newborn and rush for the nearest person that would comfort him, but he knew as much as I did what would happen if Jonathan saw behavior like that to such extent. His lips failed to create words, his throat failing to make sound. I couldn't blame him for being that way, for he had nearly died moments ago.

"Nobody can train you to be okay after that," I told him. "So, not one man in this room can judge you for not being okay right now. Try to decompress and bring it all back together soon, though, alright? We're still on the job."

He said nothing and only looked back to the floor, but I knew he understood. I patted him on the shoulder twice before coming back to my feet. I approached Jonathan, Kenny now following me over from the sidelines. He turned his gaze to us as we neared him.

"Sir, what's our next move?" I promptly questioned. Jonathan rose up.

"Well. First thing, we need to get into that sewer," he pointed to the adjacent door. "But, more importantly, we need to figure out how we're going to get underneath the hospital through the tunnels. It's a maze in there, literally. And, if any B.O.W.s are present, then we can expect many more casualties. It is vital to the success of this operation that we plan our next steps carefully. First, Wilkson is immobilized, now Holmes is K.I.A."

He looked into both of our eyes for a few moments. "Tell me, are you willing to do what was just done twenty times over for the success of the mission? Are you willing to watch your squadmates fall in the heat of the moment?" he turned to Teddy after saying that. "Do you have the nerve to hold it all together when you're most tested? If not, you'd better learn soon. There's no backing out now, and you're of no use to me if you're going to be a teary-eyed burden."

He pushed us aside and walked directly to Teddy, grabbing his shoulders tightly and pulling him up to a stand. He was still visibly shaken and couldn't look Jonathan in the eyes. Jonathan studied Teddy's face and scoffed.

"Toughen up, son. I lost something very important today, do you know what that is?"

Teddy shook his head slowly, trying to mumble something out, but couldn't manage to speak up.

"I lost a man with courage. And in return, I got a baby boy. You're lucky that Holmes pulled that stunt out there and died for you. However, if it were me, I'd have left you. And, if you don't take the bull by the horns soon, I will leave you. I'll tell Command you got lost and we couldn't find you. It's as simple as that."

He threw Teddy away, Teddy now stumbling back onto the floor.

"Perhaps if you survive this endeavor, you should seek out a different career option. The Service isn't for types like you.

"And for the rest of you. We lost a good man out there, but that's what happens in combat. People get hurt and potentially die, you all knew what you were signing up for. And in combat, there's no room for emotion. So cut the crap, you're soldiers, and I'd expect you all to start acting like it. The Service has lost a lot of men in its past few operations, and the reason for that is the teams selected for those operations were made up of men that had nerves of jelly. No spine. It's making me sick to see failure after failure. I have no intention of making this the next failure, I'll finish this mission by myself if I have to. So, before we head out that door onto our next compromise, I need to make sure you're all still with me."

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

Teddy gathered himself off of the ground and strapped on his mask, then placed on his helmet over it. He and Gregory found their way over to where Kenny and I were standing, kind of like huddling up before a big sports game.

"Ah, Villalobos, strapped on your manhood, I see. Ready to re-join the team?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah.." he responded. "I mean, yes, yes sir. I'm ready."

"Mhmm. Right then. Daniels? Is Wilkson looking alright yet?" Jonathan called out.

"His temperature is rising steadily and the wound is looking infected.. We may have to leave him behind. It would be in-" Wesley was cut off by a now-infuriated Gregory.

"Like hell we are! He's still alive for christ's sake!" Gregory protested.

"Yes, and while that may be so for now, in a couple of hours he'll probably be infectious. If we do a field amputation, he'll lose too much blood before we get him to a surgeon. He'll only slow us down."

"He's right. Step off, Colton." Jonathan ordered.

"No, this is bull****! Me and Trav have been partners since training."

"I'm sorry, did I hear you say no to me? I don't give a damn if you were school-buddies. You are endangering me and the rest of the team by dragging him around any more. You can either press on with the rest of us or stay here with him until he turns. The choice is yours."

Wesley began packing up his tools and gear. Gregory said nothing in response to Jonathan, and instead approached a now awakening Travis. He still seemed pretty loopy from the drugs administered to him, but he was able to tell who was who, apparently. Gregory knelt down beside him and began talking with him quietly, none of us could hear what he was saying.

"This is what I mean," Jonathan spoke up. "You get too attached to your teammates, you turn yourself into a victim. Bravo Team, stand by while I give a sitrep to Command." He brought up his radio and extended the antennae, waddling off away from us a few steps while tinkering with the buttons and knobs.

"U.S.S. Command, this is Bravo Team. Mission temporarily derailed, must take alternate route through city sewer system to reach objective location. Two confirmed casualties, one K.I.A., one infection. Standing by."

We all waited.

"U.S.S. Bravo Team, proceed south-west through the sewer system from your current position. U.S.S. Echo Team will meet with you and escort you to the target coordinates. Over."

We looked at each other, confused. Echo Team?

"Roger that, Bravo Team commander out." He put the radio away and headed to the door. "Check your guns and gear, lads, we're getting our boots dirty."

"Wait, wait, wait, who's who in Echo Team?" I asked.

"From what I remember, a bunch of green-as-grass boots like you all," Jonathan replied. "Chances are we'll be cleaning up their mess, rather than the other way around."

"Oh, that's good. Yeah." I swapped mags in my MP5 and tightened my helmet straps. I mentally prepared for another knee-deep experience.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

----

"Ooh-hoo-hoo! Tell me that ain't an ace shot!" Travis shouted from down the line.

"Shut it, Wilkson!"

I squinted at the target and saw that Travis had definitely hit the bullseye. Pretty impressive for his first shot on the range, I had to admit. But at the same time, it was only the first shot, and he was already bragging. It was annoying, but still, expected of him. For once, I decided to play along. Though usually when anybody played along with Travis, it was to annoy the drill sergeant, rather than to actually humor Travis. This was precisely the case this time.

"Yeah, right on, dude!" I threw up a thumbs-up to Travis. He saw and made a goofy face.

"Simmons! You too!"

I chuckled and aimed down the sights of my rifle to make my next shots. Breathe out, steady, squeeze. Pop! I hit the second ring on the outer part of the target. I tried again. Breathe out, steady, squeeze. Pop! Near the center this time, but not what I wanted. I was definitely no match in competetion against our top shots in the class, Travis, Hughe, and Sidney. Theodore and I were pretty equal and stuck together through most of our training.

Most recruits had a 'partner' of sorts. The Umbrella Security Service had two-man squad tactics employed in nearly every operation, and played a major role in our integrity on the field. Or so I'd been told. All the most infamous operators in the U.S.S. refused to work in full squads, claiming that it 'hindered their tact'. Usually if a squad of six or more U.S.S. troops was deployed together at one time, they were either all fresh out of training and too inexperienced to work alone, or broke up into their doublets as soon as boots hit the dirt.

We all knew this, and strived to be more like the role models. Finding a partner in training also meant someone always had your back no matter what, and you were more likely to land a permanent squad with that person. Having a trusty companion you've known since training, versus jumping into action with a bunch of guys you are barely acquainted with, goes a long way. Though, with how the U.S.S. worked, if you were only barely acquainted with your teammates, you were either extremely skilled, or extremely in detriment.

Theodore had lots of issues with gun jams that day. Other recruits picked on him all the time. He was just 'that guy', even I knew it, but I felt bad for the kid. He really wanted to succeed, he was just not too much cut out for it. But, it wasn't up to us who stayed and who didn't. It was only up to us whether or not we were pricks about it. I personally chose not to be a prick. Since nobody else wanted to be his partner, I decided I would be. I likely would have ended up doing so regardless, since I was pretty much his only friend.

It got to a point where he would shoot, the gun would jam, he'd shoot again, and it would jam again. So on and so forth. I decided to just offer him my rifle instead.

"You sure? This thing's junk." he claimed.

"Yeah, man, I've got sucky aim, but I've been tooling around with these since I was like twelve anyway." I passed my rifle over to him, and he passed his to me. He tried out a few shots and experienced no jams, much to his content.

I pulled back the hammer multiple times on the rifle and ejected a bent-up shell casing from the chamber. I shot a round, and like magic, there was nothing wrong with it. Theodore just wasn't that good with guns, I guessed.

A little later, the whistle blew, and it was time to empty out our rifles and turn them back in. We lined up to the quartermaster, and while waiting, we were able to catch a glimpse of an actual U.S.S. team coming back from a mission. The three fully-geared personnel strutted down the path near the target field, right in front of all of us. The one at the front leading the other two was a familiar face. White hair, crow's feet, solemn expression; we all knew this man as a legend. This prompted us to throw up our hands to our foreheads in salute, not because we had to, but because we felt the need to pay our respect to the Reaper. He nodded once to us, not slowing down or stopping. What an honor it was just to be acknowledged by him. We lowered our hands in unison as he walked out of view.

"That'll be me in a year, promise," I heard Travis saying somewhere in the line. "I'm gonna be some cool ass mother****** named Headhunter or something."

"Or ass-pirate." Somebody else joked.

"Hey, **** you, you're the one that's been checking out other dudes in the showers!"

"Nah, that'd be Theodore's lame ass!"

Somebody had thrown a clump of dirt at the back of Theodore's head right after that was said. He turned back, looked around for a moment, then looked forward down at the ground. There was lots of stifled laughter behind us. I got angry.

"Hey, who threw that?" I called out, turned around, and looked up and down the line.

"What, you his boyfriend? Does he need protecting or something?" Travis said, laughing at me now.

"Why don't you **** off, huh?"

"What are you going to do about it?"

I dropped my unloaded firearm and charged at Travis, tackling him to the ground. I thrust his head into the drying mud, which unearthed some of the mud that was still wet, sticking to the entire right half of his head. I threw my fist into his head, hitting his ear, before Darius, one of our chosen squad leaders, tried breaking us up. I pushed him away, further punching and thrashing Travis. By this point, every recruit around was watching as the fight went down, and that gathered the attention of the drill sergeant, who came stomping down the line, face red as tomato, ready to scream. I threw one last punch into Travis' face as he tried getting up, bloodying his nose. I pulled myself off of him and stood at attention, just in time for the drill sergeant to begin his much-desired chewout.
---

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

Gregory handed something to Travis, and Travis took it, tightening his fist after doing so. He grabbed Gregory's arm and a stern expression washed over his face as he pulled Gregory closer to whisper something into his ear. Gregory stared at Travis for a moment before standing up and walking towards us. Nobody asked any questions or said anything to Gregory. Wesley, Kenny, and Theodore had all prepped themselves for the descent into the tunnels, and waited for Jonathan's command.

"All set?" he asked. Nobody said anything, which was as good as a 'yes'.

Jonathan looked away from us and pulled the knob on the door, opening it to a dark, dank chamber where sewage spewed from the office building's underground waste systems through a barred pipeline. There was a set of metal stairs that went down to a concrete walkway that went along the sides of the waterways which carried the sewage throughout the city.
To head south-west was to go right of the stairs and go down a dark, narrow passage through the tunnels. Nobody was excited about it, but from the looks of it, the sewers would be at least mostly empty. Jonathan took point and led us down the stairs, and Gregory took a final look back at the room before following us down.

Plenty of rats scattered as we passed through, and while there were no B.O.W.s or signs of them, there was strangely enough still dried blood stains on the ground and small bits of flesh which the rats were nibbling on before escaping. Everyone had their flashlights on except for Theodore and I, as we were attempting to conserve battery power. It wasn't all too dark since the beams of light bounced off of the walls and illuminated the whole area we were walking through.

None of us spoke, as we were all on edge. We were more likely to be attacked by something up top on ground level, but the atmosphere was much more unnerving. Theodore walked in front of me, Jonathan was at the front, Wesley behind me, Kenny in front of Theodore, and Gregory had moved to the front of the group to take point with Jonathan. The walkway was about a meter and a half wide, but the ceiling curved, so we had to walk a bit closer to the edge, especially Jonathan, being so tall.

Jonathan stopped us at a split, where there were two different tunnels for us to continue through. None of us had any clue exactly where we were, and Jonathan took out his radio once more.

"U.S.S. Command, this is U.S.S. Bravo Team commander, requesting the radio frequency Echo Team is on. We've hit a fork in the road and don't know where we'd be headed. Over."

Command radioed back some jumbly mess of numbers and dashes that I couldn't comprehend, but obviously Jonathan knew what he was doing. He adjusted the knobs on his radio and went back at it.

"U.S.S. Echo Team, come in, this is U.S.S. Bravo Team commander. Come in, over."

We all eased up a bit, and I crouched down to rest my legs. I gazed into the flowing river of filth beneath us, watching as trash and colorless severed body parts floated down the way. The image that was created in my mind from that was so cliche, yet surreal, in that moment. It truly felt like no place in the city was really safe.

"U.S.S. Echo Team, come in, repeat, come in. This is U.S.S. Bravo Team commander. We are en-route to your current position and need some help getting to you. Over." Jonathan shook his head and smacked the side of the radio a few times. "I think we've just got some bad reception down here."

"U.S.S. Bravo Team? Oh man, back up is coming! Yeah, I know! Hell, where are you located right now?" Echo Team had gotten back to us just in time. Jonathan sighed at the lack of etiquette.

"Uh, yeah. We're located in a tunnel somewhere. I don't know. You're supposed to be the sewer rat. Over."

"Copy, are there any markings on the walls?" We all looked around, and noticed on the wall adjacent from us a little further down was a large "J - 9a" in old, damaged paint.

"Affirmative, we're at 'J-9a'. Over."

"Alright, we know where that is. Hold tight and we'll be there, E.T.A. five minutes? Or so."

"Copy that.. Bravo Team commander out." Jonathan tucked his radio away onto his belt. "Could this whole thing get any more unprofessional?"

Nobody else really seemed to care. Who could blame them for not using correct radio speech? Everyone knew how to act like a proper soldier, and did so in training, but when you are placed in a real scenario, you forget about things like that. It's no longer important when your life is on the line. Of course, the most dedicated and zealous wouldn't think so.

"How many do you think there are?" Teddy asked me.

"Eh, I don't know. Six or less, maybe, like us. I wouldn't imagine any other squad in the city is doing much better than we are." I told.

"Reaper's squad is probably already out of the city and in a warm cot somewhere," he continued. "But here we are, digging around through a dirty sewer looking for another squad so we can go to a hospital for no apparent reason.."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Nobody's that good." Wesley chimed in from behind us.

"Oh yeah? Wait and see, if we get back to headquarters, he'll be sitting there sipping on sweet tea." Teddy said.

"What? Do you actually think anybody in Raccoon City right now has it so easy? Ninety-percent of U.B.C.S. teams have been wiped out since six PM. We aren't much better equipped than they are, you know." Wesley told, almost sounding sure that we would fail.

"Oh, quiet, we're much better equipped with our knowledge of how to actually use the gear we've been given. U.B.C.S. is just a bunch of outsiders with an Umbrella logo on their backs." Jonathan shouted.

"We'll see." Wesley replied, looking around steadily.

Jonathan brushed it off and turned back to the tunnels.
A couple of minutes later, sure enough, we saw flashlights bouncing off the walls of the right-hand tunnel. Two U.S.S. soldiers came around the corner, waving to us after seeing us. They picked up their pace a little. Everyone began walking towards them, and so I got up and followed. The troop on the left seemed really nervous, and kept turning around to check behind them every few seconds. Jonathan made first contact with them.

"And you two are?" he questioned. The one on the right answered.

"I'm Corporal Dewley, this is Private Ohara."

"A corporal and a boot, eh? Where's your commander? The rest of your squad?" Jonathan asked.

"We lost them about an hour and a half ago."

"I'd like a report."

"Right, uh, we were deployed near Raccoon University and got into a skirmish with U.B.C.S. forces outside the-"

"Hold on, U.B.C.S.? What caused the fight?"

"I couldn't tell you, sir. They began firing on us not long after we hit the ground." Jonathan turned to us and became visibly irritated.

"Great, we've got new targets to watch out for. Corporal, have you reported this to Command yet?"

"Yes, sir. They said they had reports from five other squads saying the same exact thing."

"I see.. So where's your squad, then?"

"We recieved three casualties from the firefight, and immediately took to the sewers. We were meant to patrol the tunnels to assist any loose squads that needed it, like you guys. We were down here for maybe like a half hour, helping our wounded, when something big attacked us."

"Something big? What?"

"Sir, I really don't know. All I do know is that our bullets did nothing to stop it. It killed our wounded and a couple of others. We fled with our commander. We maintained a base of operations in a service room, and our commander told us to stay put while he went and looked for the nearest way to the surface. We haven't heard from him since then. And then you guys radioed to us, so here we are. We guessed that he didn't make it."

"Alright.. That's all I'll need. Make yourself at home, since the rest of your squad is dead. Based on the timeframe of your report, I can only assume that whatever attacked your team is still lurking around here somewhere."

"Most likely, sir.."

"I hope you're up for taking us to Raccoon General from here."

"Yes, it's not very far from our current position. I'd just like to take a different way there, if you don't mind. I don't want to go back there." The corporal stared down the tunnel he had just emerged from.

"I understand your concerns, but you're now with a fully functioning team. We can handle ourselves. Just make it fast." Jonathan insisted, much to the corporal's disdain.

"Okay... Yeah, I can do that for you."

"I'll make it easy for you, get in the back of the squad with Daniels and Simmons. I'll keep point with Colton here."

"Yes, sir." The corporal and his companion made their way to the back and greeted us.

"Tough night, huh?" I joked. "I'm Payton Simmons. Welcome to Bravo."

"Mitchell Dewley, and this is Jason Ohara."

"I'm Wesley, team medic." Wesley approached them and shook hands with both.

"And this here, is Theodore," I said, putting my hand on Teddy's right shoulder. "I just call him Teddy." He just nodded at the two.

"Don't talk much?" Mitchell said.

"Yeah, I guess," Teddy answered. "I don't know."

"Kenny's the one that's quieter than a mouse." I said to them.

"Huh? Who said my name?" Kenny poked his head out past Teddy.

"Playtime's over, boys, let's get moving." Jonathan called out.

We collectively ended our conversation and picked up our feet to continue our journey through the tunnels. Mitchell and Jason went all the way in the back behind Wesley. They seemed like alright fellows, but something felt wrong. They had been quite uneasy with the idea of going back the way they came, and for good reason, too. I had just hoped that we wouldn't meet the same fate as Echo Team.

 

[U.S.S. Tacos]

The whole time we were trudging through the near-identical tunnels, Mitchell and Jason muttered amongst themselves. Every now and then, Mitchell would shout directions to Jonathan, but otherwise, wouldn't say anything to us. Especially Jason; I don't think he had said anything at all since joining the group, unless to Mitchell. They were kind of shady, but I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. I stayed on my toes, though, and didn't let my guard down around them.

We had eventually passed the service room that the two claimed to have held up in, and that's when things started becoming strange. The number of rats was scarce, if we had seen any, they were either dead or running directly opposite of where we were headed. It became more grisly as we proceeded, almost starting to look like a horror movie scene. Various gear was scattered about, on the ground, floating in the water, pretty much everywhere. It was the gear that we were issued by the U.S.S., hinting that we were nearing the site of Echo Team's demise.

Some number of yards down the way was what appeared to be a former U.S.S. operative, now infected, wandering aimlessly around the corridors. Helmet and mask were missing, as well as most of the vest pouches, and directly across his torso was a deep gash, from shoulder to waist. The soulless husk turned to us, eyes milky white, and mouth bloodied. His skin was totally pale, and almost green. He stumbled toward us pathetically, moaning in hunger. Jonathan unholstered his pistol, and popped off a single round at its head just a few meters away from it. It fell backward and landed with a 'thud'. Mitchell walked past Teddy and I and approached his former comrade, kneeling down to snap off the dogtags.

"Wish I didn't have to see you like this, Kev.." he said lowly.

"I presume he's from your squad?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah... He was a pointman. A good pointman, at that. He deserved better than this."

"Well, too late for him now. We'd better get a move on before we end up like him." Jonathan told carelessly while re-holstering his nine millimeter.

The group continued on, and as I passed the corpse, I studied his face. Shaved head, no wrinkles. Young just like the rest of us. Probably just as fresh from training, too. It seemed a pity yet an inevitability in this line of work. It was unfortunate that he'd become rat food soon. Maybe we all would.

Further down, the scene was even worse. We found another zombified operative, as well as the rest of Echo ripped apart. It seemed as if someone had chopped them up with a chainsaw, or something similarly awful. It was impossible to even tell that there were only three dead, their limbs were far from their torsos if not dangling from them. One body was completely severed in half from the waist, leaving intestines spilled and unwound to hang halfway into the sewer water.

The other two were so mangled and destroyed, it was hard to say what was what. There was enough blood to look as if someone had re-painted the entire area a sloppy red. The now infected soldier was preoccupied with gnawing on the flesh of its former brothers, even with us only standing a few feet from it. Jonathan relentlessly capped it with a single round from his handgun as he had done with the last straggler, and as it rolled over lifelessly, it could be seen that it only had a single arm.

"You wanna pick the tags off that one? Or what's left of 'em." Jonathan called out.

Mitchell once more came forward to recover the dogtags. His hands shook badly as he took them, and this time he didn't bother to say anything. The sight of the other three was likely too much for him to cope with. I was sure at this point that I could smell through my mask the odor of decay, it was overwhelming, and I began to gag. I held my stomache steady, however, and kept myself from vomiting. Jonathan didn't seem to care at all about his surroundings, it was probably just another day on the job in his mind.

Seeing Echo Team put all of Bravo in a totally different state of mind. While Gregory and Kenny weren't talking by this point anyway, they were probably just as mindfucked as Teddy and I were. It was as if Echo was a caricature of what we would become. A resounding message of imminence, bouncing throughout all of our minds. But, Jonathan, of course, was no different. Totally void of emotion or even acknowledgement. It started to make sense to me now, the stark contrast between private and veteran. We were still human. Those like Jonathan, were not.

Seeing things like this on a day-to-day basis desensitized to the fullest extent. To be the most effective soldier in the U.S.S. was to be a machine with the only known functions being to survive and to destroy. When you have a feeling that you are going to die whether or not you succeed, you either break and weaken, and eventually succumb to death, or you lose the regard for your own safety and do anything necessary to complete the mission, since you know that you'll die anyway. I finally understood the principles that were being drilled into our heads all those months of training. Maybe Theodore was understanding, too. Or, maybe he would just continue to break. I worried.