Leon looked at John, who was still pointing his rifle at the near hysterical Henry. John looked back at him, and Leon could see the awareness dawning in his dark eyes, even as it dawned on him.
They were in extremely deep shit.
Yes!
Reston laughed giddily. The gunmen were trapped, and the three on the surface were probably already being picked up by the teams—he'd handled his situation, and handled it brilliantly.
Of course it's no fun if there's no one around to appreciate it. . . but then, I have a captive audience, don't I?
"We're not scheduled to go on line for another twenty-three days," Reston said, smiling widely, already imagining the look on Sidney's bloated face.
"At which time, I was going to host the initial run of our carefully designed program for a group of extremely important people. It was going to be specimen only, we hadn't planned on putting humans through the phases for a while yet, let alonesoldiers. But now, thanks to you, I'll be able to show my little party actual footage of what our specimens were created for. By now, your friends on the surface will have been taken, sad to say—but the three of you will suffice, I think. Yes, you'll do quite nicely."
Reston laughed again, unable to contain it. "You may want to kill Henry before you start, though, he'll only drag you down—and hedidlure you in, didn't he?"
"You bastard!"
Henry Cole pushed away from the wall and flew at the door, pounding on it with his fists. The two-inch metal didn't even rattle in the frame.
Reston shook his head, still grinning. "Iamsorry, Henry; we'll miss you terribly. You never did finish with the intercom system, did you? Or the audio . . . at least you hooked upthisone, for which I can't thank you enough. Is it clear enough in there? Getting any static?"
Whatever demon had possessed the electrician fled, the man collapsing against the door, breathing raggedly. The bigger of the two armed men, the burly dark-skinned one with the rifle, stepped toward the window with a menacing expression.
"You're not gonna get us to go through any tests for you," he said, his deep voice quivering with rage. "Go ahead and kill us, 'cause we're not alone—and Umbrella's going down, whether or not we're around to see it happen."
Reston sighed. "Well, you're right about not being around. But as to the rest... you're some of those
S.T.A.R.S. people, aren't you? You and your grassroots campaign are nothing to us; you're mosquitoes, an annoyance. And youwillparticipate—"
"Participatethis,"he spat, grabbing his crotch.
Even through the thick plexi, the gesture was unmistakable.
Vulgar. Young people today, no respect for their betters...
"John, why don't you break out one of those frag grenades?" The other one said coolly, at which point Reston sighed again.
"The walls are plaster-coatedsteel,and the door will withstand a lot more than you could possibly have. You'd only succeed in blowing yourselves up. It would be a pity—but if you must, you must."
They didn't seem to have a smart reply to that. No one spoke, although Reston could still hear the troubled gasps coming from Cole through the intercom. He'd grown tired of goading them anyway; the surface
teams would be putting a call in to control soon, and he really should be there.
"If you gentlemen will excuse me," he said. "I have other business to attend to—like releasing our pets into their new homes. Rest assured, though, I'll be watching your debut; try to make it through at least two of the phases, if you can."
Reston stepped away from the window to the control panel on the left, and punched in the activation code. One of the men started shouting that they wouldn't go through with it, that he couldn't make them—
—and then Reston hit the large green button, the one that simultaneously opened the hatch into One—
and released a spray of tear gas into the small anteroom from vents in the high ceiling. He stepped back to the window, interested to see how effective the process was.
Within seconds, a white haze came pouring down from above, obscuring the three men. Reston heard shouts and coughing, and a second later he heard the hatch lock down, which meant they were through.
The pressure plates in the floor thus unencumbered, there was a low hiss as the ventilation system kicked on, clearing the room of mist in under a minute.
Nice. He'd have to remember to commend whichever designer had recommended it.
"I'll make a note," Reston said to no one in particular. He smoothed his lapels and turned to walk back to control, excited to see how well the men would fare against the newest additions to the Umbrella family.
ELEVEN
COLE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO STUMBLE after the killers, choking and nauseous, his heart sick with dread and hate. He'd been abandoned to death by Reston, the man had even encouraged the assassins to kill him—he no longer knew if they evenwere assassins, he didn't know who the "stars" were supposed to be—he didn't know anything except that his eyes were burning and he couldn't breathe.
At least make it fast, let it be fast and painless. . . .
Through the hatch into One, the door snapping closed behind him. Cole fell back against the cool metal, struggling to catch his breath, gummy tears leaking from beneath his closed lids. He didn't want to see them pull the trigger, he'd rather not have to suffer suspense before he died; dying was plenty enough.
Maybe they'll just leave me here.
The small hope that the thought brought him was
stamped out immediately as a big, rough hand latched on to his arm and shook him.
"Hey, wake up!"
Cole reluctantly opened his watering eyes, blinking rapidly. The big black guy was staring down at him, looking mad enough to start hitting. His rifle was pointed at Cole's chest.
"Want to explain what the hell this place is?"
Cole shrank against the door. His voice came out in a stammer. "Phase One. F-forest."
The man rolled his eyes. "Yeah, forest, I gotthat.
Why, though?"
Jesus, he'shuge! The guy had muscles on his muscles. Cole shook his head, sure that he was about to be severely beaten but not sure what the man was asking.
The other one took a step toward the two of them, looking more upset than angry. "John, Reston screwed him over, too. What's your name again? Henry?"
Cole nodded, desperate not to piss anyone off.
"Yeah, Henry Cole, Reston told me you were here to kill him and he told me to stand in there, he was just going to lock you guys up, swear to God I didn't know he was gonna do this—"
"Slow down," the smaller man said. "I'm Leon Kennedy, this is John Andrews. We didn't come here to kill Reston—"
"Shoulda, though," John rumbled, looking around them.
Leon went on as if he hadn't spoken. "—or anyone else. We just wanted something Reston is supposed to have, that's all. Now—what can you tell us about this test program?"
Cole swallowed, wiping at the water on his face.
Leon seemed sincere—
—and what are your options here? You can get shot, get left behind, or work with these guys. They've got guns, and Reston said the test specimens were designed to fight people and ohshithow'dlwind up in this mess?
Cole looked around at One, amazed at how different it seemed now that he was locked in, how—menacing. The towering artificial trees, the plastic underbrush and fallen synthetic logs—with the subdued lighting and humidified air, the dark walls and painted ceiling, it almost felt like a real forest at twilight.
"I don't know a whole lot," Cole said, looking at Leon. "There are four phases—woods, desert, mountains, city. They're all big, each one's like two football fields, side by side, I forget the exact measurements. Word is that they're supposed to be suitable habitats for these hybrid test animals; they're even gonna stock them with live food, mice and rabbits and such. Umbrella's testing out some kind of disease-control thing, and the test animals are supposed to have similar circulatory systems to humans, something like that, it'll make good study material. . .."