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Although as long as I'm wishing, suddenly waking up and finding out this has all been a bad dream would be pretty nice, too.

The room smelled like blood and rot, a smell that he had gotten used to, he realized. It smelled like Rac-coon, and as he slowly climbed the ladder, he thought that he would die a happy man if he could just do it breathing fresh, untainted air. The square metal hatch at the top lifted easily, swinging up and back on hinges to lean against a three-sided railing. Carlos ascended carefully into another dim room with a bunker feel, lined with consoles and cabinets, no bodies… "Caramba," he breathed, stepping away from the ladder to the desk console against the front wall, set beneath large windows that looked out over the mostly dark yard. It was an old communications relay system, and even as he reached out to pick up the headset, a crackle of static hissed from a small speaker set into a side panel, followed by a woman's cool, clear voice.

"Attention. The Raccoon City project has been aban-doned. Political maneuvering to delay federal plans has failed. All personnel must evacuate immediately to out-side of the ten-mile blast radius. Missiles will be launched at daybreak. This message is being broadcast on all available channels, and will repeat in five min-utes."

Stunned, Carlos looked at his watch and felt his stomach knot. It was half past four in the morning, which left them an hour, maybe a little more. He snatched up the headset and started pushing but-tons. "Hello? Does anybody read me, I'm still in the city, hello?"

Nothing. Carlos ran for the door at the back of the room, his thoughts repeating in an endless loop, day-break, Jill, helicopter, daybreak, Jill…

… and the door, a metal shutter, was firmly locked. No keyhole, no nothing. He couldn't get into the building.

And I don't even know if she's here, maybe she started back already, maybe…

Maybe a lot of things, and as much as he wanted to find her, if he didn't secure a way for them to escape the city, they weren't going to make it. He turned away from the door, not wanting to leave, knowing he didn't have a choice. He had to find one of those helicopters that Trent had told him about and make sure it was fueled up and working. Maybe he could buzz the facility, get her attention from outside, or find her on her way back to the clock tower. And if I can't… He didn't finish the thought, well

aware of Jill's fate if he failed.Hardly noticing the pain in his side, Carlos ran forthe ladder, his heart pounding and filled with dread.

TWENTY-SIX

WHEN NICHOLAI SAW JILL STEP HESITANTLY through the door into treatment operations, he immedi-ately slipped back out of view, through the security side door and into a large, empty corridor that led to the chemical tank room. A fierce joy took hold of him as he eased the door closed, feelings of vindication and self-affirmation lifting his spirits high. After he'd found Foster's data disk, he'd set up his laptop to combine files. That's when he'd seen the warning from H.Q. Not much of a surprise, it had been one of several possible outcomes projected, but it had further depressed him. A part of him had still wanted to get closure with Jill and Carlos, for what they had done to him, and he'd even been considering a final look around before calling for pickup. There was no time for that with missiles coming, and he'd been on his way to place the call when he'd heard footsteps.

She's here, I was right about her and now she's here!

He had to be right, or whatever fates were working in Raccoon wouldn't have sent her. He could see now that everything that had happened since he'd arrived in Raccoon had been predestined. Fate, testing him, sending him gifts and then pulling them away, to see what he would do. It all made perfect sense, and now there was a ticking clock, he had to get out, and here she was.

I won't fail. I've succeeded so far, and that's why this synchronicity has occurred. So that I can reestablish the control I command before I return to civilization.

He could ask her about Carlos and Mikhail, he could question her thoroughly… and if there was time, he could dominate her in a more pleasurable fashion, a farewell that he could reflect back upon for years to come. Nicholai quickly moved behind the door, his boot-steps echoing in the roomwide corridor, rifle ready. He'd earned this, and he was going to get exactly what he deserved. Jill walked into some kind of operations room, her senses on high alert as she looked across the open space, decorated in classic Umbrella laboratory style

– blank, cold, cement walls, metal railings that separated the bi-level room in an absolutely functional way, noth-ing bright or colorful in sight. Unless blood counts… Dried splashes of it stained the floor all around the low worktable that dominated the room. Probably not Nicholai's work, unlike the corpse she'd found in the office next to the room with the broken steam pipes. A short man in his mid-30s, shot in the face, his body still warm. She had no doubt that Nicholai was close, and she found herself almost hoping she'd run into him soon, just so she could stand down, not have to look over her shoulder with every step. She didn't see anything resembling a key card or a radio in the room, so she decided to move on – she could head through the side door in the nook to her left or go down. Side door, she decided, on the off chance that Nicholai had headed that way; so far, she'd been through every room she could get into on the second floor and didn't want to go downstairs and risk letting him get behind her. She walked to the door, wondering again what had been done with the bodies of those who had died in the facility. She'd seen plenty of blood and fluid stains, but only a handful of corpses. Maybe they were dumped downstairs…, she thought, pulling the security door open and sweeping left to right with the Beretta. A corridor as big as a room, with a small offshoot at the back wall that headed right. Totally empty. She stepped inside… or Umbrella ordered everything cleaned up so their employees didn't have to spend the crisis stepping over their dead coworkers… "Freeze, bitch," Nicholai said from behind her, roughly jamming the barrel of his rifle into her lower back. "But drop your weapon first, if you wouldn't mind."

A sarcastic rephrasing of what she'd said to him in the park, and she couldn't miss the thread of almost hysterical glee in his voice. She'd been careless, and she was going to die for it. "Okay, okay," she said, letting the 9mm slip from her fingers and clatter to the floor. She still had the grenade gun on her back, but it was useless – in the time it would take her to unstrap the thing, he could empty a mag into her and have a chance to reload.

'Turn around slowly and back away, hands clasped in front of you. Like you're praying."

Jill did what he wanted, backing across the room until her back touched the wall, more afraid than she wanted to admit when she saw the constantly twitching smile, and the way his eyes rolled from side to side.

He's gone over. Whatever was wrong with him to start, being in Raccoon sparked it into a full-blown psychosis. The way he looked her up and down filled her with a different kind of fear. She knew of several effective ways to stop a rapist's attack, but that was assuming she was still able-bodied enough to fight, and she doubted very much that Nicholai would approach her without firing a few well-placed shots first. She glanced to her left, down a narrow hall that dead ended at a closed door. Won't make it, try to talk to him. "I thought you just wanted to get out of the city," she said neutrally, not sure what tack to use. She'd always heard that crazy people should be humored, but she couldn't see that it was going to make much of a differ-ence; Nicholai meant to kill her, period. He casually walked toward her, smiling his trem-bling smile. Thunder rumbled overhead, a distant sound. "I want to get out now, now that I have all the information. I killed all of the others for theirs, the Watchdogs. Umbrella is going to have to deal with me, and only me, and I'm going to be extremely wealthy. It's all balanced out, and now that you're here, my suc-cess is assured." In spite of herself, Jill was curious. "Why me?" Nicholai moved closer but stayed a safe distance away. "Because you took the antidote," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Carlos stole it at your bidding, don't try to deny it. Tell me, are you working on your own initiative, or were you sent to interfere with my plans? How much do Carlos and Mikhail know?" Christ, what do I say to that? Again thunder mut-tered overhead, and Jill found herself distracted by it, too confused by Nicholai's bizarre reasoning to answer him right away. Strange, that they could hear it through the heavily insulated ceiling…… not as strange as thinking about the weather at a time like this. She had to say something, to at least try and prolong her life; as long as she was breathing, there was a chance.