Raccoon City Police Department.
This strange reunion drew the attention of all the survivors.
Even though gunfire continued outside the barricades, and low growls and the sound of zombies gnawing on flesh could still be heard from sealed rooms within the precinct, everyone looked toward the scene unfolding.
"Miss Valentine, since you're here, where's my brother? I saw the breaking news from California about Raccoon City on the night of the 25th and rushed over immediately. I didn't expect things to have gotten this bad."
Claire's voice was anxious and urgent.
The Redfield siblings had been orphaned from a young age, growing up together and relying solely on each other. Chris, to Claire, was both brother and father figure. After over two months without any contact, she was beyond worried.
"You saw the news and still came?!"
Jill frowned. She knew about Chris's sister—brave, yes, but honestly, also reckless. News headlines like "highly infectious disease," "cannibal plague," and "biovirus outbreak"—what sane person would head toward that?
If anything had happened to her, or if Jill and Chris hadn't been there, Chris would have spent the rest of his life drowning in regret.
And Chris—once he entered mission mode, he was so absorbed he'd forget to even borrow a phone to check in with Claire…
"Your brother's fine," Jill said flatly. "He's currently on the west side of the city, conducting search-and-rescue operations."
"Thank goodness!"
Claire breathed a huge sigh of relief and immediately stepped forward for a hug. "Sister Valentine, can I come with—"
"No."
Already reattaching her helmet, Jill refused without hesitation. "Once I get you all out, you're heading straight to the National Guard checkpoint outside the city for medical screening! Raccoon City is too dangerous now—not a place civilians should remain."
Then, Jill turned toward the police station lobby, where a Black police officer was clearly acting as the anchor for the shaken survivors.
"Marvin," she called, "It's been a while."
"Jill? Is that really you?"
Police Lieutenant Marvin Branagh looked stunned. He hadn't expected to see Jill again—and judging by her gear, was she with Umbrella now?
"You joined Umbrella? Weren't you and S.T.A.R.S. protesting against them just two months ago?"
"Long story short," Jill cut him off. "We're out of time. You all need to evacuate with me immediately. According to Director Russell, Raccoon City will undergo sterilization bombing the day after tomorrow. Staying here is a death sentence."
"But... there are injured civilians still in the detention area..."
"No 'buts'," Jill snapped, hardened from her prolonged exposure to the T-virus crisis. "I can't tell who's infected and who isn't. We save the living first. Yes, we have vaccines—but they're at the western evacuation zone. We won't reach them in time. Can you guarantee they won't turn before then? Move!"
Looking at the now-pale faces of nearby civilians, Jill sighed.
"I'll try to open a path for your escape—but you'll have to walk it yourselves."
She secured her gas mask and sealed the clamps. Then she checked the magazine of her 'Satara' submachine gun and chambered a round.
"Are you coming or not?" she asked Marvin.
"..."
Marvin glanced back at his fellow officers and the wide-eyed rookies caught in this nightmare of a first assignment. Then, clenching his jaw, he stomped his foot.
"Alright!"
"Carlos!"
Jill nodded and pushed open the precinct door. Outside, though not outfitted in full M.S.F. gear, the U.B.C.S. members—with their sweat-soaked shirts, tactical vests, knee and shoulder guards, and fully automatic weapons—were far better equipped than the cops inside, who only had basic sidearms and the occasional short-barreled shotgun.
"Hey, beautiful—got orders for me?"
Carlos looked as disheveled as ever, his hair a mess, his gear haphazard. Through the iron gate, he stabbed a zombie in the eye socket with a knife, twisted, and pulled it free.
"The police station might just be the last survivor stronghold in Raccoon City. We need to get them out."
"Alright, boys, let's get to work."
Carlos nodded and called out to his U.B.C.S. comrades stationed around the precinct, who were keeping the surrounding area clear of undead.
"I'll take point."
Carlos grabbed his reissued Tactician shotgun, kicked open the door, and blasted the first two zombies with a buckshot spray. Their bloated, decaying skin burst apart under the impact, blood splattering as they were hurled over a meter back.
Rat-tat-tat!
A rapid burst of gunfire followed—Jill took down a female corpse crouched behind a car. The rest of the U.B.C.S. joined in, mowing down over a dozen approaching zombies like wheat under a scythe.
It was almost too satisfying.
If it weren't such a serious situation, Carlos might've even whistled.
Even though their new boss—Militech—had rebranded them, they were still treated like the unwanted stepchildren. But at least now, ammo was in good supply.
Most of the freakish B.O.W.s had been wiped out during last night's sweep by M.S.F. forces. And more M.S.F. units kept arriving, some alongside military special ops, testing new weapons on B.O.W.s and mutated targets.
Rat-tat!
With Jill spearheading the formation, U.B.C.S. formed the perimeter, while the Raccoon City PD protected about a dozen still-mobile civilians. The group—more than thirty people in total—left the police station and headed north along Central Avenue, aiming to reach Raccoon Avenue where M.S.F. units were actively sweeping scattered undead, and then westward out of the city.
Drip—
In the middle of the group, a young man with a gentle face, blond hair parted in the middle, wearing a navy blue RPD field uniform and holding a pistol, ran while carrying a small blonde, blue-eyed girl. He kept reassuring her:
"Sherry, don't cry, don't be scared. We're safe now. Everything's going to be okay."
"But... big brother, I miss Mommy... She told me to hide at the police station, but she never came for me... And Daddy—I dreamed Daddy turned into a monster and didn't want me anymore."
"Watch your step, rookie!"
Just as the young officer was at a loss for words, Chief Marvin's shout yanked him back to reality. He took a large step forward, barely missing a shattered tire that could have tripped him.
"Thanks, Chief Marvin."
"Sigh... when this damn cannibal plague first broke out, I saw your acceptance letter. I should've delayed your start date. But when the outbreak hadn't shown signs of 'cannibalism' yet, we were short-staffed and overwhelmed. I'm sorry, Leon. I dragged you into this hellhole."
Marvin apologized sincerely, slowing his pace. "Here, let me carry her for a bit—you need a rest."
"No!"
Sherry buried her head in Leon's chest. Marvin just smiled.
"She seems to like you."
"Maybe because things were chaos when she first arrived at the station, and I ended up looking after her for a few days."
"Leon," Claire said, slowing her pace to walk beside them. "Thank you for everything you've done."
"Don't mention it. It's a cop's duty—even if I'm just a rookie. That's what everyone keeps saying."
Leon tried to lighten the mood, patting Sherry's back gently.
Truthfully, when he first found out he'd be assigned here, he was planning to stay long-term and had even thought about how to get along with his new coworkers.
But from the moment he arrived—it had been nonstop. Endless calls, no rest.
During that time, he'd met the skittish little girl hiding in the station, and later ran into Claire while on patrol as she searched for her brother in Raccoon City. Then, suddenly, overnight—"the cannibal disease" worsened. People went mad. Only later did they realize it was a virus...
Just then—"Stop!"
As Jill moved through a narrow alley at the front of the formation, she suddenly dropped into a crouch and switched her submachine gun for a shotgun. Clack!
A slug chambered. Through the tri-lens infrared night vision goggles of an unknown model, she clearly saw an orange-red outline of a crawling abomination—and in the corner, a humanoid figure squatting?
"Come out!"
Bang!
Blood exploded from the crawling creature.
"Shit! It's that U.S.F. bitch!"
"Don't shoot, we're alive. You win."
A group of six emerged from the alley—men and women in black tactical uniforms, all injured, bandaged, caked in blood and dust.
"Umbrella?!"
Seeing the red-and-white umbrella logo on their shoulder patches, Jill raised her voice.
"Aren't you Umbrella too? Oh, wait—you're with Militech now. M.S.F., right?"
The group's leader, a poised middle-aged woman wearing a full-face transparent mask, spoke up. "We're the U.S.S. Delta Squad. We accepted Director Vela Adelheid's proposal."
"What proposal?"
This time, the Delta Squad members looked surprised. "You don't know?"
"Know what?"
Jill still hadn't lowered her weapon. A tense standoff.
Leon, having set Sherry down, looked on helplessly—until:
"Ah, looks like someone wasn't briefed."
A mature, husky female voice drifted in, along with a subtle fragrance. Feeling her presence, Leon blushed and stepped back.
"Miss Ada... you know something?"
This sharp, red-dressed Asian woman was someone Leon had rescued a few hours earlier. She claimed she came to Raccoon City looking for her boyfriend, so he'd brought her to the police station. She had behaved herself—aside from occasionally teasing him.
"So cute."
Without warning, Ada strode toward Sherry. In one swift move, she snapped off Sherry's necklace and pulled out a grappling gun—whizz!—her silhouette soared up toward the rooftop.
Leon was left dazed.
"Who the hell was that?!" Carlos reacted first, opening fire—but missed. Ada flipped and swung out of sight.
Now even more confused, Jill stared down the Delta Squad.
What the hell was going on?
Thud! Thud!
Over a dozen figures dropped from a second-story rooftop in synchronized silence.
"Miss Valentine. Step back."
The lead soldier moved forward, separating Jill from the Delta Squad. Though their uniforms were similar to hers, it was obvious to any observer—they carried a completely different presence.
"Lupo—you made the right choice," he said.
"So the real deal finally shows up? Looks like the internal power struggle at Umbrella is over. Director Vela Adelheid has the upper hand. And our so-called mission to eliminate survivors? The board really dared assign that..."
The woman known as Lupo scoffed at herself.
"Good that you understand. Come with us. We're linking up with Alpha Team. Executor Russell wants to see you."
"Alpha Team still has survivors?"
"Yes. Not just HUNK."
After disarming them, the real M.S.F. tactical unit motioned for the Delta Squad to follow and began leading them briskly toward the northwest—Raccoon Avenue.
The leading M.S.F. commander instinctively scanned the crowd of survivors—then froze.
His gaze landed on the crying girl whose necklace had just been taken.
"What do you want?!"
Claire stepped in front of Sherry—but was immediately flung two or three meters away by a single-arm shove, landing hard.
"Sherry Birkin. Daughter of Umbrella's chief researcher William Birkin and Annette Birkin."
He stepped forward, staring at her.
"Take her."
"Hey now—sir, let's talk abou—ow..."
"Stay out of it, rookie. We know exactly what we're doing."
One hand on Leon's shoulder, and he was pinned. Leon groaned—his shoulder felt like it was in a vice. That grip was inhuman.
Ignoring the sobbing girl, he picked her up.
"Your mother, Annette, has been rescued. But due to your special status, Executor Vela Adelheid wants to see you."
"No! I don't want to! I don't want to see her! She's the bad lady! She made Daddy stop loving me, stop coming home... it's because of her..."
A micro-dose sedative—mildly anesthetic—was administered, and the girl soon drifted into unconsciousness.
He pressed his earpiece, switched to a secure channel, and spoke as he walked quickly forward, voice low and indecipherable to the others:
"Boss, mission complete. G-creature 'William' neutralized. No life signs. Remains incinerated. Raccoon City objective mostly cleared. Special target Ada Wong released per your order. Complete."
"Excellent."
Vela's cool voice came through the earpiece.
"End operation. Withdraw from Raccoon City in order. This city has no value anymore. These public heroics—let's not waste elite forces on that."