Annette had run into some trouble. The trip down to the cargo room hadn't been bad; she'd only run across one carrier, one of the first– stagers, and had blown a hole into its ashy, withered skull with the first shot. She'd passed under a sleeping Re3, but it hadn't stirred from its ceiling bed, and it seemed that the other creatures still lurking in the facility shadows hadn't yet figured out that they were free. Either that, or more of them had disintegrated into mush than she'd imagined… in any case, she'd be gone before she had to worry about it either way. In all, she made it to the cargo room hall in under three minutes, and had punched in the key code with a sense of grand accomplishment; the high from the shot was wearing off, but she was still feeling good…… until the hatch to the cargo room refused to open. Annette had tapped the simple code in a second time, more carefully – and nothing. It was one of the only doors in all the facility that didn't open automat– ically on fail-safe triggering, but it shouldn't have been a problem – there was a verification disk in the slot beneath the controls, the disk that was always there in spite of Umbrella's insistence that only the section heads were supposed to have access…… and of course, upon checking, she'd seen that it wasn't there, that it wasn't where it was supposed to be. Someone had taken it. Annette stood in front of the locked hatch in the empty hall and felt the first bright tendrils of panic reach into her mind, a hysteria that she couldn't allow to take hold.
      The lab's going to blow up, and I've wasted four,
      almost five minutes now and where's the goddamn
      disk?
      "Easy, take it easy, you're okay, it's okay…"
 
      A gentle echo, a whisper of reason in the shining hall. She'd simply have to take the elevator from a different level; she had the master key, she had a weapon, she had time. Not as much, but enough. Breathing deeply, Annette started back toward the hall that led to the stairs, reminding herself that all was well and that it didn't really matter, that Umbrel– la was going to pay whether or not she made it out alive. She didn't want to die, she wasn't going to die, but the gleaming, blood-splattered corridors and once-sterile labs were going to burn either way, so there was no need to panic…… and as she turned right and moved quickly down the connecting hall, her footsteps loud and hollow in the silence, a ceiling panel crashed down in front of her…… and an Re3, a licker, dropped to the floor and screamed for her blood.
      No!
      Annette fired, but only hit its scrabbling shoulder as it darted forward, reaching out with one deformed claw to swipe at her. She felt a sharp red pain in her forearm, and fired again, shocked and disbelieving…… and the second one caught it in the throat, and it screamed, blood spraying from its torn neck, its trumpeting shriek a garbled and spitting cry as it lunged at her again. The third shot blew into the gray jelly of its brain, and it flopped to a spasming stop just inches from her trembling legs. Gasping as she realized how close she'd been, Annette looked down at her bleeding arm, at the thick scratches that had torn through her lab coat…… and something gave. Something in her mind. Her racing mind, her pounding heart, the blood and the licker, William's licker, dead on the floor in front of her – all these things whirled and danced, spinning into a circle that came together and focused into a single, stunningly simple thought. A thought that made sense of it all.
      It isn't theirs.
      It was so clear, so crystal clear. She couldn't run from pain, because pain would find her wherever she ran; she had proof, dripping down her arm. William had understood, but had lost himself before he could explain, before he could tell her what she really needed to do. She had to confront her attackers, and make sure they understood that the G-Virus wasn't theirs, because it didn't belong to them.
      But will they understand? Can they?
      Maybe, maybe not. But she was so overwhelmed by the profound simplicity of the truth, she knew that she had to try, to make them see. The work was William's. It was his legacy, and now it was hers; she'd known that before, but now she knew it, a ray of light in her mind that made everything else trivial.
      Not theirs. Mine.
      She'd have to find them, tell them, and once they accepted the truth of it, they would have to leave her alone and then, if there was still time, she could go her own way. But first, she needed another shot. Smiling, her eyes wide and starry, Annette stepped over the licker and started for the stairs.
      Leon thought he heard shots. He was in some kind of a surgical bay, the first room at the end of the first passage that he'd taken after leaving Ada, and he looked up from the pile of crumpled papers he'd found, listening, but the dis– tant cracks didn't repeat, so he went back to his search. He rifled quickly through the pages, desperate to find anything besides the endless lists of numbers and letters beneath the Umbrella letterhead. Come on, there must be something useful in all this… He wanted out, he wanted to get Ada and get the hell out. The disemboweled corpse slumped in the corner was reason enough, but it was more than that – the very air of the room, of the hall outside the room, and, he was willing to bet, of every room in the facility, was just wrong. It stank like death, but worse, there was an atmosphere of something darker, some– thing amoral. Evil.
      They performed experiments here, they ran tests and God knows what else here – and they'd created a zombie plague, they'd created the monstrous demon that attacked Ada, they'd murdered an entire city. Whatever they meant to do, they were practicing evil. Evil on a grand scale; the transport had taken
      them into a secret Umbrella facility, and it was a big one. From the numbers on the walls, he knew he was on the fourth floor, whatever that meant and the catwalk he'd taken to get to the strange operating room, only one of three choices, had stretched over what had to be sixty or seventy feet of open space, the bottom to it lost in shadow. He didn't know how deep he and Ada had come, and he didn't really care; what he wanted was a map like the one she'd found in the sewers, a clear and simple diagram with an arrow pointing to out.
      And it ain't here…
      Frustrated, Leon pushed the useless papers aside and saw there was a computer disk lying on the steel table that had been hidden beneath the stack of chemical readouts. He picked it up, frowning "For Cargo Room Verification" was printed on the label in smudged block letters. Sighing, Leon slipped it into his pocket and rubbed at his aching eyes with his right hand, his left arm basically useless again after carrying Ada from the lift. He didn't want to look for a computer to see what was on the disk, he didn't want to go wandering from room to room looking for the exit, seeing what atrocities Umbrella had played with before they'd shut themselves down. He was tired and in pain and worried about Ada… and he decided, as he walked back to the door, that he should go back and talk to her. He'd wanted to ease her mind, saying that he would find the way out, but the place was just too goddamn huge; if she even knew the direction, or could remember the floor number… Leon opened the door, stepped into the hall…… and a woman with a gun was standing in front of him, a nine-millimeter pointed at his chest. She was bleeding, thin streams of crimson pouring from one arm and dripping down her dirty white lab coat and the look on her face, the strange, wide-eyed glassy look that played across her features, told him that making any sudden moves would be a very bad idea.
      Oh, Jesus, what is this? "You murdered my husband," she said, "you and your partner and the girl, too – all of you, you wanted to dance on his grave but I have news for you!"
      She was high on something, he could hear it in her high, trembling voice and see it by the way her skin twitched and ticked. He kept his hands at his sides, kept his voice low and calm.
      "Ma'am, I'm a police officer, and I'm here to help, okay? I don't want to hurt you, I just…"
      The woman dipped her bloody hand into her pock– et and held up something, a glass tube full of some purple fluid. She grinned wildly, raising it over her head, the gun still trained on his chest.
      "Here it is! It's what you want, isn't it? Listen to me, do you hear me? It isn 't yours! Do you understand what I'm saying? William made it, and I helped him, and it doesn't belong to you!" Leon nodded, speaking slowly. "It doesn't belong to me, you're right. It's yours, absolutely…"The woman wasn't even listening. "You think you can take it, but I'll stop you, I'll keep you from taking it – there's plenty of time, time for me to kill you and Ada and anyone else who tries to take it!" Ada… "What do you know about Ada?" Leon barked, taking a half-step toward the madwoman, no longer feeling so calm. "Did you hurt her? Tell me!"The woman laughed, a humorless, insane cackle.
      "Umbrella sent her, you stupid shit! Ada Wong, Miss Love-em-and-leave-em herself! She seduced John to get the G-Virus but it's not hers, either! It's not, it's NOT YOURS IT'S MINE!”
      A massive shock rocked the floor, pitching Leon to the ground, a rumbling vibration that shook the walls…… and crash, pipes and plaster rained from the ceiling, a thick beam striking the woman down with a dull thump. Leon covered his head as bits of concrete and white chunks of drywall slapped at him…… and it was over. Leon sat up, staring at the woman in shock, not sure what had happened. She wasn't moving. The metal beam that had struck her still hanging from the ceiling, one of her arms pinned beneath it…… and a cool, clear voice suddenly blared from hidden speakers somewhere in the walls – female, calm, and punctuated by the rhythmic bleat of a honking alarm.
      "The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately. The self-destruct sequence has been activated. This program cannot be aborted. All personnel should evacuate immediately…"
      Leon scrambled to his feet, took one running step toward the fallen woman – then reached down and plucked the glass cylinder from her outstretched hand, shoving it into his utility pack. He didn't know who she was, but she was too crazy to be holding anything in a test tube. Ada – he had to get to Ada and they had to get out.
      The throbbing, screeching alarms blasted through the echoing halls, chasing him through the door to the catwalk along with the indifferent-sounding female's repeating message of imminent destruction. The recorded voice didn't say how long they had, but Leon felt quite certain he didn't want to be around when the clock ran out.

      The cool, dark ride down through the elevator shaft ended in a squeal of hydraulic brakes and then silence, as the engines shut down and trapped them somewhere in the seemingly endless tunnel.
      "Claire? What…"
      Claire held a finger to her lips, hushing Sherry and heard what sounded like an alarm from some– where outside, a repeating, muffled bleat of honking noise. There seemed to be talking, too, but Claire could only make out the faintest mumble.
      "Come on, sweetie, I think the ride's over. Let's see where we ended up, okay? And stay close."
      They moved out of the transport room and onto the platform, the distant sounds not so distant any-more and there was light, coming from somewhere behind the lift. Claire took Sherry's hand as they walked quickly around, not wanting to worry the girl but feeling pretty sure that it was an alarm they were hearing. There was definitely someone speaking over the rhythmic squeals, too, and Claire wanted to know what they were saying. The lift had stopped only a few feet down from some kind of a service tunnel, the light she'd seen coming from a caged bulb that hung down from the tunnel's ceiling. There wasn't a door, but there was a decent-sized crawl space at the end of the short passage; it would have to do.
      It's either that or climb back to the surface, probably only a mile or so up…
      Not a chance. Claire boosted Sherry up and then climbed after her, moving to the front and then crouch-walking to the dark hole. The bleating sound got louder the closer she got to the crawl space, the mumble transforming into a woman's voice. She strained to hear the words, hoping that she'd catch "elevator malfunction" and "temporary", but she still couldn't make it out. They'd have to abandon the lift and hope that they were leaving it for something better. Claire swiveled around, sighing. "Looks like crawl
      time for me and thee, kiddo. I'll go first, and then…"
      SLAM! Sherry shrieked as something landed on the roof of the transport behind them, crashing through the top in a thundering clap of rending metal. Claire grabbed her, pulling her close, her breath caught in her throat…… and a hand, two hands appeared through the hole in the roof. Two thick arms, clad in shadow…… and the gleaming white of Mr. X's enormous skull rose up from the destroyed lift, like a dead moon on a starless night. Claire turned and pushed Sherry toward the dark– ness of the crawl space, her heart hammering, her body suddenly slick with sweat.
      "Go! Go, I'm right behind you!"
      Sherry disappeared into the curving black, darting out of sight like a frightened mouse, and Claire didn't look back, was too scared shitless to look back as she followed Sherry into the hole, their relentless stalker surely climbing through the shattered elevator to continue his determined and unfathomable hunt. Ada had heard pieces of Annette's screaming rant from the shadows of the catwalk hub, where the three metal spans joined. She'd forced herself not to rush to Leon's aid, promising herself that if she heard shots, she'd reconsider…… but then the laboratory facility had been vio– lently shaken, and the bland voice of the recording started its loop.
      Shit!
      Ada staggered to her feet, furious at the woman scientist, a part of her aching for Leon, knowing what this meant. Annette had triggered the fail-safe, which meant they probably had less than ten minutes to get the hell out of Dodge…
      … and Leon doesn't know the way.
      No, not important. If she was going to collect the sample, which Annette surely had on her, she needed to do it now. Leon wasn't her problem, he'd never been her problem, and she couldn't quit now, not after the hell she'd been through to get Trent's pre– cious virus. Ada took a single step away from the main fuse panel that connected the three catwalks and heard the pounding footsteps coming toward her, footsteps too heavy to be Annette's. She slid back into the shadows and around to the span that led west, press-ing herself against the hub's frame. A second later, Leon went running past, probably back to where he thought she'd be waiting for him.
      Ada took a deep breath, blowing it out as she swept Leon from her mind, and hurried across the southern bridge to find Annette.
      Ada was gone.
      "…has been activated. This auto-destruct sequence…" "Shut up, shut up…" Leon hissed, standing help-lessly in the middle of the room, his stomach knotted, his hands balled into fists. When she'd heard the alarm, she must have pan– icked and run. She was probably stumbling through the giant facility, lost and dazed, maybe looking for him as that infernally calm voice repeated, as the sirens blared and rang.
      The transport lift!
      Leon turned and ran back through the door and saw that it was gone, a large empty hole a few feet deep where it had been. He'd been too intent on getting to Ada, he hadn't even noticed that it wasn't there anymore…
      … we have to find that tunnel, we have to! Without the lift, we're trapped here!
      With a silent howl of frustration, Leon turned and ran back toward the catwalks, praying that he would find her before it was too late.
      The crawl space ended abruptly, stopping over at least a seven-foot drop to an empty tunnel. Her ears ringing, her mouth dry as dust, Sherry grabbed the edges of the square hole, closed her eyes, and jumped. She swung out over the hall and let go as soon as she was straight up and down, landing crooked and falling as her right leg crumpled. It hurt, but she hardly felt it, scrambling on hands and knees to get out of the way, staring up at the hole…… and there was Claire, her head coming out, her wide, worried eyes taking in that she was okay, that the hall was empty and safe… except that there were bells ringing and a woman on an intercom was talking, and Mr. X was coming. Claire stretched her arm down as far as she could with the gun. "Sherry, I need you to hold this, I can't turn around."
      Sherry stood and reached up, grabbing the barrel, amazed at how heavy the gun was as Claire let go. "Don't point it at anything," Claire breathed, and then she actually dove out of the hole, curling her body and landing on her shoulder, her head tucked in tight. She did a half-somersault and then her legs banged into the concrete wall.
      Before Sherry could even ask if she was all right, Claire was on her feet, taking the gun and pointing to the door at the end of the hall. "Run!" she said, and started to run herself, one hand pushing on Sherry's back as they sprinted for the door, as the intercom voice told them to get out, told them that a self-destruct sequence had been activated…… and behind them, a sound of crashing metal tore through the blaring noise of the sirens, and Sherry ran faster, terrified.

      Annette birkin crawled out from beneath the crushing weight of the cold metal, still holding the gun, the G-Virus gone. As she opened her mouth to scream her fury, to rail to the Gods at the injustice of her terrible plight, blood dribbled out across her lips in a thick streamer of clotted drool.
      – mine mine mine -
      Somehow, she made it to her feet.
      Ada told herself that she didn't deserve Leon Ken-nedy's good opinion anyway. She'd never deserved it.
      Forgive me…
      As he ran back across the catwalk from the trans– port bay area and swung west, running blind with fear for her, she stepped out of the hub's shadows and pointed the Beretta at his back.
      "Leon!"
      He spun around, and Ada felt her throat lock at the relief that spread across his face and struggled not to feel anything more as the joy turned sour, his grin fading.
      Oh, Jesus, forgive me! "I've been waiting for you," she said, and felt no pride at how smooth and steady her voice sounded. How very cold. The alarms blared, the mechanical voice almost as icy as hers, telling them that the fail-safe couldn't be shut down. She didn't have time to let him get used to the idea, that she was as much a monster as the Birkin-thing or one of the soulless zombies. "The G-Virus," she said. "Give it to me." Leon didn't move. "She was telling the truth," he said, no anger but more pain than Ada wanted to hear. "You work for Umbrella." Ada shook her head. "No. Who I work for is no concern of yours. I… I…"
      For the first time in years, since she'd been a very young girl, Ada felt the sting of tears and suddenly she hated him for that, for making her hate herself. "I tried!" she wailed, her composure blown by the fierce torrent of anger that coursed through her. "I tried to leave you, back in the factory! And you had to take it from Birkin, didn't you, you couldn't just leave it alone!"
      She saw pity on his face, and felt the fury pass, swept away on a wave of sorrow for what she'd lost, with him; for the part of herself she'd lost a long, long time ago. She wanted to tell him about Trent. About the missions in Europe and Japan, about how she'd become what she was, about every event in her miserable, successful life that had brought her to this place – holding a weapon on a man who'd saved her. A man she might have cared about, in a different time and place. The clock was ticking. "Hand it over," she said. "Don't make me kill you." Leon stared into her eyes, and said, simply, "No." A second gone, then another. Ada lowered the Beretta. Leon steeled himself for the shot, for the bullet from Ada's gun that would kill him…… and she slowly lowered the weapon, her shoul– ders sagging, a tear running down one porcelain cheek. Leon blew out his held breath, feeling too many things, a jumble of sadness and betrayal – and pity, for the tortured struggle in her beautiful dark gaze and a shot rang out from the shadows behind her. Ada's eyes went wide, her mouth falling open as she pitched forward, the gun hitting the floor, her body hitting the rail and flipping over.
      "Ada, no!"
      He ran and dove, and somehow she caught the rail as he grabbed her wrist, her body dangling over the bottomless dark, blood spouting from her hanging, shattered shoulder.
      "Ada, hold on!"
      * * * "Mine," Annette whispered. She raised the handgun again, intending to shoot the other, to take back what was hers, to make them all pay…… and the gun was too heavy, it was falling, and she was falling with it. Together, they fell to the dark metal, the dark, the dark spinning up into her mind and finally taking her pain away.