Into the Storm

In late July of 1998, Bravo team, a section of the elite STARS unit, entered the Arklay Forest in search of a group of serial killers. Their mission went awry from the beginning; by the next morning, only half their original number was still alive.

A relief force consisting of Alpha team entered the forest the next day, in search of their surviving comrades. But Alpha's insertion went south as well, and when the survivors regrouped in a seemingly abandoned mansion, they began to wonder if they had been so lucky after all…

The mansion was a secret lab owned by the Umbrella corporation, who were using it to create the ultimate biological weapon: a plague capable of turning the living into mindless, flesh eating zombies.

Alpha team made contact with survivors of the previous expedition: Rebecca Chambers, the Bravo team medic; Richard Aiken, Bravo team's communication expert; and Mat Dawson, a member of the RPD's SWAT unit who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Mat and Rebecca had spent the previous night surviving their own nightmares: two other facilities located in the Forest. Rebecca found herself trapped inside an abandoned Umbrella training center with Billy Coen, a man she believed to be a mass murderer. Mat encountered a group of Umbrella mercenaries sent to secure another plant, this one the ultra-modern Hive. Both facilities were ultimately destroyed through the efforts of the RPD officers and their allies, but the entire UBCS team was killed in action.

Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, and Barry Burton, with Rebecca and Mat in tow, managed to escape the mansion, but only after it was revealed that their captain, Albert Wesker, had been on Umbrella's payroll the entire time. Wesker, blinded by greed, released Umbrella's ultimate creation: a giant, undead humanoid called Tyrant. Wesker soon met his own end at the monster's hands, before it was finally killed by Chris. Rescued, the officers returned to Raccoon City, expecting the worst to be over.

But Umbrella's reach was longer than they had expected. Brian Irons, Chief of Police, was on their payroll. He used the RPD to suppress the story of Umbrella's wrongdoings. Umbrella agents began to tail the survivors, lurking around every corner.

Barry Burton, desperate to protect his family, fled north into Canada. Brad Vickers, ever the coward, made his own escape for parts unknown. Chris Redfield made contact with an anti-Umbrella group in England, leaving the States to meet them. Rebecca Chambers, whose faith and resolve had been shaken in the mansion, turned in her badge and quietly left the scene.

That left just Jill and Mat in Raccoon City, trying to deal with a conspiracy whose scope and depth none of them could fully grasp. But in the end, all plans, both those of the rogue members of the RPD and Umbrella, are about to be undone by a single, unforeseen and dreadful act, which will have far reaching consequences for all players.

The stage had been set; all pieces are in play. The calm before the storm is about to end. And when it does, the world will never be the same again.

Prologue: Nuit

(ISAACS)

They hung in suspended animation: six of Umbrella's most lethal creation, the Tyrant series 103. They were enormous, each about eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and a box like build. Each BOW weighed several tons, and their enormous fists could punch through titanium plating.

And they're all about to be obsolete Samuel Isaacs thought, with no small degree of pride. At a little under six feet tall, he wasn't a very physically intimidating man; looking at him, one never would have suspected he was a genius with viral and biological weaponry. That was part of what made so dangerous, as so many rivals had discovered to their displeasure over the years.

One Tyrant lay on the table. A group of about a dozen lab technicians swarmed around it, while another kept watch over a computer display of its vitals. At the moment, the Tyrant was asleep. It was the technicians' job to make sure it stayed that way.

Isaacs wasn't taking direct part in the operation, even though it had been his idea. Instead, he stood high above the operating theater.

"The creature will be nearly unstoppable" said the short, dark haired woman beside him. At five foot nothing, Christine Henri was even smaller than Isaacs. She wasn't as smart as the scientist, but she was even more ruthless. They had been friends for years.

Unfortunately, she had an irritating habit of talking too much. Trying to discourage her, Isaacs simply nodded.

Henri wouldn't take a hint, though. "How did you get this admittedly brilliant but somewhat strange idea?" she asked. The question was stilted and unnatural; clearly someone else had put her up to it. Isaacs immediately was on his guard. Someone, probably Henri, but just as easily someone else, was after his research. Once they got it, he'd be of no use. He knew the routine, having been the executor of similar plans.

"I was just trying to find a way to exploit the parasite's durability" Isaacs replied casually. "I knew had these equally impressive creatures down here in cold storage, and…It just came to me."

Their conversation came to a welcome end a few seconds later, when two more technicians entered the theatre, carrying with them a small container.

"There it is" breathed Henri softly.

Isaacs repressed a small shudder. The organism in the container below was but a small portion of what Daniel Greene had cultivated inside the Hive, which had, in turn, been extracted from the horribly abused and mutilated Lisa Trevor. In its current form, the parasite was less dangerous than the sixty foot guardian monster inside the Hive; nonetheless, it was still potent, and Umbrella wasn't taking any chances. If containment was broken, the entire operating theatre would be sterilized with incendiaries. There would be no trace of it left…or of anyone inside.

The Tyrant was lying naked on its stomach. One of the technicians applied a large saw to its back, the rotating blade slowly cutting into the monster's skin. After cutting a few centimeters deep, he took a step back, allowing the two techs with the parasite to step forward. They did so cautiously, holding the container just above the open wound.

One looked up at the viewing room. "Do we have permission to apply the NE-parasite?"
Isaacs nodded, keying the booth's microphone. "Do it."

The next action was quick. At the push of a button, the container lid opened. The technicians flicked their wrists, dumping its contents onto the Tyrant's back. The small fragment of the parasite fell forward, landing on the BOW's open wound.

Despite all the anesthetic it had been dosed with, the T-103 stirred, flexing its shoulders and growling deeply in its throat. The techs backed away nervously, but the Tyrant suddenly relaxed as the parasite worked its way into the monster's body. It shuddered again, once, then slowly rose to its feet.

Isaacs, with a somewhat reluctant Henri in tow, hurried down to the operation theatre.

"Are you sure this is safe?" the French woman asked, her accent coming out in her stressed condition.

Isaacs smiled grimly. "We're about to find out."

The NE/Tyrant was still standing in the center of the room when he and Henri entered, completely motionless but for the heave of its chest as it slowly breathed in and out.

"I don't understand, doctor" said one of the technicians. "We've given this thing enough drugs to keep an elephant down. How can it be on its feet?"

Isaacs smiled faintly. "This is a most impressive creature." He turned toward the Tyrant. "Identify yourself."
The BOW opened its large, lipless mouth. "TYRANT DESIGNATE T-109" it said, its voice deep and growly, like something that had escaped from hell. Isaacs, who had modified its vocal chords for just that, was pleased by the effect.

"And what is your directive?" he asked next. They had preprogrammed a mission into the Tyrant's brain; the parasite hadn't overwritten its name, so hopefully, its higher functions would also still be intact.

The Tyrant deep voice rumbled in the small space.

"ELIMINATION OF DESGINATED TARGETS BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY."

Behind him, Henri shuddered. Isaacs just grinned. He looked over at the technicians. "Well done, gentlemen. With this, Umbrella will avenge itself on its foes." He turned back to the Tyrant. "And who are those designated targets?"

The Tyrant uttered just one word. "STARS."

(HUNK)

He had a Steyr TMP in his hands. It was a short weapon, with a fixed stock; it had a decently fast rate of fire, and it was comfortable for him to shoot. As far as weapons went, there wasn't much for him to ask for.

The two survivors of GOBLIN team had identical weapons. The French team, however, had opted for the heavier MP5K. HUNK had used that particular SMG before; he loathed the thing. But the French liked its rate of fire, even if it was difficult to shoulder fire.

The eight-man USS team was making its way through waist deep sewer water. One of the French troops kept up a small, steady commentary on that in his native language; the others ignored him.

The Umbrella lab in Raccoon City was a pretty slick setup, HUNK had to admit. It was located directly below the town's main police HQ; from there, a short trip through the sewers led them into the lab's uppermost floor. After that, it was all downhill, literally, since they'd be entering along the lab's emergency tram system.

There was someone waiting for them up ahead. A woman, young, with brown hair up in a ponytail and a bright orange jacket. She looked nervous and out of place. HUNK realized she was Monica Green, their contact.

"Report" he barked when he was closer.

"Doctor Birkin is out" Green replied. "He keeps the samples with in a briefcase; I don't know where he keeps them and…I-I couldn't get close enough to secure them."

HUNK nodded. "Understood. When will he return?"

Green checked her watch. "About five hours from now. Why?"

"We'll be waiting when he gets back."