“How’s that door?” One asked.
Tearing her gaze away from the pair, she said, “Sealed shut.”
J.D. volunteered himself. “Let me.”
Rain indicated the door with an exaggerated flourish. Let the macho asshole flex his muscle.
He gave her a wink. When they first started training together, she used that wink to goad herself to do better, in the hopes of wiping it off his fucking face. Now, she was pretty much used to it, and chalked it up to part of J.D.’s overall assholiness.
She took great satisfaction out of watching him struggle just as hard as she did with the door.
Then the son of a bitch yanked it open.
His head was down when he did it, so he didn’t see the limp body inside the compartment until it fell on him.
“Damn!” J.D. cried as he pushed the form off him and whipped out his Smith & Wesson.
Next to Rain, One pointed his MP5K assault rifle at the man.
For her part, Rain just smiled at J.D. “Jumpy?”
J.D. gave her a fuck-you look. She just kept smiling. Bastard.
Rain recognized the guy after a minute—it was Alice’s partner on mansion duty, that new asshole, Parks. Insisted everyone call him “Spence,” since his first name was “Percival.” Spent his first two weeks on the job hitting on Rain, and wouldn’t take “fuck you” for an answer. He and Alice had to pretend to be married as part of their cover at the mansion, and she’d heard rumors. Most of them came from Warner, who said they were “maintaining the cover under the covers.”
All Rain could think was, better Alice than her. Spence made her want to throw up.
She looked over at Alice, still sitting on the floor next to the cop. As Rain watched, Alice stared at Spence’s left hand, then at her own.
The wedding ring.
Rain chuckled to herself as Alice took the ring off and read the inscription. If Rain remembered right, it said PROPERTY OF UMBRELLA CORPORATION inside the ring. Real fucking romantic. If Alice was still memory-loss-girl, reading that was gonna be a comedown.
Danilova walked over and knelt down next to Spence. She snapped a vial under his nose, which revived him pretty damn quick.
“Wha—?”
“Lie still,” the medic said.
Spence started squirming, like he was having a bad dream or something.
“Lie still.” The Russian woman held Spence down with one hand while taking out a penlight with the other. First she pried his eyes open and shined the light in each eye. The pupils dilated, as expected. Then she moved the light around. “Watch this light. Follow it.”
Spence stopped squirming and did so.
The medic held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three.”
“Good. Now tell me your name.”
“I—” Spence hesitated, then looked confused. “I don’t know.”
Danilova looked up at One. “He’s fine.” She spoke in a no-nonsense tone. “Memory loss, just like the other one.”
One nodded, as if he expected that answer. And who knew, maybe he did?
Spence, meanwhile, sat up, holding his head as if it hurt.
He stared at Alice, who was staring right back.
Again, Rain chuckled to herself. The two of them had been living together in that mansion for months, and neither of them had the first fucking clue who the other one was. Pathetic.
The noise of the train started to drop. One turned to address the entire train. “Everyone ready to move out.”
Rain moved to one of the many open entryways to the train as it pulled into the Hive end of the station. As the train rumbled in, lights went on in succession, illuminating the platform. Like the one on the mansion side, it was full of crates labeled with Umbrella’s logo.
From here on in, it was routine. Rain had these maneuvers down when she was doing her own private training for S.W.A.T., and she fell into it easily here. She, J.D., and Warner took point, rotating cover, each with their rifles out and ready. Both clips in her MP5K were fully loaded, laser sight ready to go.
That was the other nice thing about working for Umbrella. They had all the latest and finest toys. LAPD probably wouldn’t have had assault rifles this hot even for S.W.A.T., and if they did, they sure as shit wouldn’t have the double clip. No way that’d be in the budget.
The private sector, Rain had learned, didn’t skimp on the important shit.
Soon, they arrived at another big concrete staircase, not having seen a single sign of life.
Rain was in the lead when they hit the bottom of the staircase. She put up a fist, signalling a temporary stop.
Behind her, both J.D. and Warner came to a halt. Behind them, One did likewise, passing on the halt signal to the others.
The door was shut. And, from the looks of it, sealed.
Fuck.
She signalled a go-ahead.
One put down his rifle. “Let’s get that door.”
Rain nodded. She moved up the stairs with J.D. and Warner alongside. Kaplan and Drew followed a minute later, bearing their trunk full of stuff. Besides the toys Kaplan needed to deal with the computer, they also had a laser drill that would get the door open.
At least, that was the plan.
Drew opened the trunk and tossed the welder’s helmet at Rain. “You’ll need this.”
She smiled as she unerringly caught the dark helmet. “It’s even in my color.”
“Yeah, it’s how she likes her coffee and her men.” J.D. gave her his wink as he said it.
Warner chuckled. “Don’t let the boss hear you say that.”
“Please.” Rain shook her head. Yeah, if you just went by the face, One was a fucking attractive dude, but she viewed him as pretty much asexual. She’d no more consider fucking him than fucking a stone wall. Shit, she’d sooner do Kaplan.
“Listen to me.”
Rain glanced down the staircase at the voice. It was Alice, standing next to One.
“I want to know who you people are, and I want to know what’s going on here.”
For his part, One didn’t even spare her a glance. He was looking around, taking in his surroundings. Rain had no doubt that he was coming up with about seventy-six different ways to secure the area.
“Now.”
That got One’s attention—and Rain’s as well. Even without her memory, it looked like the bitch still had the same brass cojones. There weren’t too many people with the balls to talk to One in that tone of voice—at least not twice.
But then, just because she didn’t have her memory didn’t mean she wasn’t her, and they didn’t make just any old asshole the head of security for the Hive.
One spoke in a mostly straight-up tone of voice. “You and I have the same employer—we all work for the Umbrella Corporation. The mansion is an entrance to the Hive. You are security operatives placed there to protect that entrance.”
Alice removed her wedding ring. “What about this?”
One came as close to a smile as Rain had ever seen. “Your marriage is a fake. Just part of your cover to protect the secrecy of the Hive.”
“And what is the Hive?” Spence asked.
One looked at Kaplan. “Show them.”
Rain turned to see that Drew and J.D. had set up the laser cutter. Rain put the helmet on, fired up the cutter, and went to work. Her best bet was trying to slice out the panel in the middle of the door—that would cut the circuit as well as provide a handy little hole in the door.
The cutter was loud enough to drown out Kaplan and One explaining the Hive to the two people responsible for its security.
No, this wasn’t a totally fucked-up scenario. The computer going all run-silent-run-deep, the security unconscious and losing their memory, some cop wandering around, and they still didn’t know jackshit about what was going on.
When she’d sliced out a rectangle, it fell to the floor with a satisfying clang. Rain switched the cutter off and raised the helmet.
From down the stairs, she could hear Spence asking, “Why can’t I remember anything?”
“The Hive has its own defense mechanisms,” One was explaining, “all computer controlled. A nerve gas was released into the house. Primary effect of the gas is complete unconsciousness, lasting anywhere up to four hours. Secondary effects are varied, but can include acute memory loss.”
“For how long?” Spence asked.
“Subjective. An hour—day—week.”
Addison chose this moment to speak up. “So you’re saying this place was attacked?”
“I’m afraid things are a little more—complicated than that.”
Before One could explain, Rain said, “Sir—we’ve breached the Hive.”
One nodded, and the rest of them fell into formation.
Rain was half-convinced that one of the three newbies was gonna shoot their mouth off, but they didn’t. Maybe they’d asked their share of questions.
Kaplan got the door open, then stepped back. Rain, Warner, and Drew covered One and J.D. as they took point. J.D. had put his night-vision gear on his head.
One simply said, “J.D.”
Nodding, J.D. put the night-vision cylinder over his eye. He looked like some kinda fucking Borg. He entered the dark room.
Rain held her MP5K at the ready and waited.
Suddenly, the lights went on. Not just that, but there was noise—sounded like street noise. The room was an elevator bay, but the windows showed some kind of cityscape.
One gave the signal and they moved in, keeping in formation, covering each other.
Except Olga, anyhow. She had that doodad of hers out and was looking at it. Then she looked up. “Halon content has dissipated.”
Rain thought it was a damn good thing they took off the fucking gas masks.
Alice and the Addison guy walked over to the window, looked at the “view.”
“Makes it easier to work underground,” Addison said, “thinking that there’s a view.”
Rain gave him a suspicious look.
Then a noise got her attention. She turned, but it was just One, J.D., and Warner prying the elevator door open—but there wasn’t a car on the other side.
J.D. tossed a flare down the shaft.
Rain walked up behind him and peered over his shoulder. The green light of the flare lit up the shaft, and a lot of loose cables, scraps of metal, and pieces of plastic.
Somebody had taken the express to the basement.
J.D. looked at One. “Looks like we’re taking the stairs.”
One nodded, and gave a signal to move out.
Rain, J.D., and Warner did rotating cover at point as they headed down the metal staircase. It took them to the working levels. The plan was to take them to the Red Queen’s chamber and shut her down.
One looked at Kaplan as they headed down right behind the three leading the way. “Status.”
“Red Queen has locked onto us. She knows that we’re here.”
Alice frowned. “Who’s the Red Queen?”
“State-of-the-art artificial intelligence,” One said. “She’s the computer that controls the Hive.”
Rain wondered when the stupid bitch was gonna get her memory back. She was tired of listening to people who should know better having to have their hands held.
“So this isn’t a military base,” Alice said.
One almost smiled. “Umbrella could buy and sell the military twice over.”
“Yeah,” Addison muttered, “I bet the pay’s a lot better, too.”
Just as Rain was ready to give Addison a good punch, they entered a hallway that was sealed off. There were three or four entryways, all of which were covered by Umbrella-brand PlastiGlas.
Which was a good thing, seeing as how the lab spaces they were covering were flooded. Water spouted out through some pinholes in one of the labs, but still, it looked like someone sealed the rooms and then activated the sprinkler.
Jesus.
Doing his usual stating-the-fucking-obvious thing, Kaplan said, “This is gonna slow us down.” He showed One the schematic on his wrist-top. “Our route to the Queen takes us straight through these labs.”
“Rain, J.D., see how bad the flooding is. Kaplan, find us an alternate route.”
Grateful for the chance to go off with J.D. and leave the assholes behind, Rain went ahead, stepping through the spouts.
“This is messed up,” she said as they went forward.
J.D. shrugged. “What-the-fuck-ever. Just another job. In, out, beers at Barre’s Bar when we’re done.”
“Fuck, I’m sick of that place. They got shit tequila.”
Grinning, J.D. said, “You oughta try a real drink some time.”
Rain didn’t even look at him. “You drink fuckin’ Budweiser, J.D., I ain’t takin’ no lecture on booze from you.”
J.D. laughed. After a minute, Rain returned it.
Yeah, that was it. In and out, and hope those two assholes get their memory back soon.
THIRTEEN
KNOWING HER NAME WAS ALICE ABERNATHY should’ve made her feel better.
It didn’t especially.
According to the head of the commando team—who just went by “One” for some odd reason—Alice was head of security for the Hive, which was a neat trick, considering she’d never heard of it, or the Umbrella Corporation. On the other hand, the corridors had an oddly familiar feeling as she walked through them. Maybe it was the truth.
Frustratingly, she had no way of verifying anything. Her memory was still Swiss cheese—she knew, for example, that the World Series was a baseball game, and she remembered who won it last year, but she could not picture the sport or remember how it was played.
She just hoped this damn nerve gas wore off quickly.
The man she was pretending to be married to was named Spence Parks. The cop, according to his ID, was named Matt Addison. He still hadn’t explained why he was here.
Then again, no one had asked him, either.
“What happened here?” Spence asked.
Alice noticed that Matt moved closer, and One gave him a suspicious look.
“Five hours ago, Red Queen went homicidal. Sealed the Hive and killed everyone down here.”
“Jesus.”
“You can’t be sure of that,” Matt said. “There must be hundreds of people working here.”
“Five hundred and twenty-three,” One said coldly. He went on: “When we realized what was happening, my team was dispatched to shut her down.”
“Why did she do it?” Alice asked.
“That we don’t know. But outside interference is a possibility.” That last sentence was spoken while looking directly at Matt.
Matt was about to say something, but then he suddenly jumped.
“Jesus!”
His sudden movement startled Alice. She stepped back, and saw what Matt saw.
A body.
It was a woman, blond hair from the looks of it, floating in the water on the other side of the glass. She wore all white, and her skin had gone pale enough to match the outfit.
According to the ID badge still pinned to her lab coat, her name was Anna Bolt.
Spence looked at Alice with concern. “Hey—you okay?”
Alice grunted in reply.
Removing his leather jacket, Spence said, “Here.”
“No, it’s okay.” Even as she spoke, though, she realized that she was cold. Her arms had unconsciously folded so she could warm herself, and her exposed flesh—which there was a lot of in this stupid dress—was covered in goosebumps.
“C’mon, it’s cold in here.” He held up the jacket.
With a small smile, she gave in and took it.
As her fingers brushed his, she suddenly remembered something . . .
His hands ran gently up and down her naked flesh, his callused fingers playing over her skin, feeling both rough and smooth at the same time.
His lips hungrily attacked hers, as if they were trying to consume each othe
r. Their tongues explored—teasing, tasting, dancing.
He pulled her slim athletic form tight against his muscular body.
It seemed their marriage wasn’t quite the sham One thought it was.
She decided to venture a question. “Are you—do you remember anything? Before—this?”
Spence shook his head. “No—no. Nothing before the train. You?”
“No,” she lied. “Nothing.”
Why did she lie?
For some reason, with the memory flash came a feeling.
Don’t trust Spence.
No, it was more general than that. It was not wanting to trust anyone.
Dammit, what the hell was going on with her head?
“Got it.”
Alice looked up to see the computer geek—what was his name? Kaplan?—showing One something on that wrist-top computer of his. “We double back, cut through Dining Hall B, then we’re back on track.”
Even as he spoke, the other two—whom One had identified as Rain Melendez and J.D. Hawkins—returned.
“Sir—no go,” Rain said. “The whole level’s flooded.”
“All right, we’re behind schedule,” One said, “so let’s move it!”
Another of the commandoes—Alfonso Warner—walked up to Spence and Alice and gave them a “move-it” head nod. Without waiting for any kind of acknowledgment, he went ahead.
Alice looked at Spence. They each solemnly mimicked Warner’s head-nod.
Then they both laughed.
Maybe she should trust him.
“Come on,” Spence said.
As they started walking behind Warner and the others, Alice said, “Strange that over five hundred people work in this place. So far, we’ve only seen one.”
“You think they’re lying?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Seems like a lot of firepower just to shut down a computer.”
Spence shrugged. “Maybe whoever briefed them didn’t tell them the whole truth. Or maybe they didn’t tell us the whole truth yet.”
Behind them, Rain took a quick look at the body of Anna Bolt.
“Poor bastards.”
Alice couldn’t argue with the sentiment.
After a few minutes, they got to another sealed entrance. Kaplan entered a code into the pad, and it slid open.
Warner, J.D., and Vance Drew went in first, in a standard rotating cover flank.
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