Read Online Resident Evil: Underworld by S. D. Perry - Free Book Online
Authors: S. D. Perry
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we’re successful, I can step down. Umbrella will be as good as dead and no one will have to look to me for anything, ever again.
That was a thought he could hold on to; a peaceful retirement. Once the monsters behind White Umbrella had been brought to justice, vigilante or otherwise, he’d have no greater responsibility than keeping himself fed and bathed. Perhaps he’d work up to a house-plant…
“I think—veer left a few degrees,” Rebecca said from behind him, startling him, bringing his focus back around. She’d barely spoken above a whisper, but the night was so cold and crisp, the air so perfectly still that every step taken, every breath exhaled seemed to fill the world.
David led them through the darkness, wishing they could use their lights; they should be getting quite close. But even dressed all in black, he was worried they’d be spotted before they could get inside— whatever that meant exactly; Trent had given them no idea of what the facility would look like. In any case, with barely a half moon they wouldn’t see it until they were right on top—
There.
A thickening of shadow, straight ahead. David held up his hand, slowing the others as they moved closer, as he saw a dented metal roof reflecting moonlight. And then a fence, and then a handful of buildings, all of them dark and silent.
David dropped into a walking crouch, motioning for the rest to follow suit, holding the automatic rifle tight against his chest. They crept closer, close enough to see the lonely group of tall one-story structures behind a low fence.
Five, six buildings, no lights, no movement—a front, surely…
“Underground,” Rebecca whispered, and David nodded. Probably; they’d discussed several possibilities, and it seemed the most likely. Even in the wan light he could see that the buildings were old, dusty and worn. There was a smallish structure in the front, five long, low buildings in a row behind it, all with sloping metal roofs. It was certainly big enough to be some kind of a testing ground, the larger buildings as big as aircraft hangars, but between the site’s placement—alone, out in the open in the middle of a desert—and the wear and tear, he’d guess underground.
Good and bad. Good, because they should be able to get into the compound without much trouble; bad because God only knew what kind of surveillance system had been set up. They would have to go in fast.
David turned, still in a crouch, and faced the team. “We’ll need to double-time,” he said softly, “and stay low. We scale the fence, head for the structure closest to the front gate, same order—I’m on point, John’s in back. We have to find the entry ASAP. Watch for cameras, and everyone’s armed as soon as we’re in the compound.”
Nods all around, faces grim and set. David turned and started for the fence, head down, his muscles tight and jumping. Twenty meters, the air biting into his lungs, freezing the light sweat on his skin. Ten meters. Five, and he could see the “No Trespassing” signs posted on the fence, and as they reached the gate, David saw the sign telling them that they were at the privately owned “Weather Monitoring and Survey #7.” He looked up and saw the rounded silhouettes of what had to be satellite dishes on two of the buildings, plus the multiple thin lines of antennae stretching up from one of them.
David touched the fence with the barrel of the M-16, then with his hand. Nothing, and there was no barbed wire either, no sensor lines that he could see, no alarm trips.
Obviously, no weather station would have those; trust Umbrella to be as concise in their fronts as with anything else.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder, grabbed the thick wire and pulled himself up. It was only seven feet; he was at the top in five seconds, flipping himself over and jumping to the dusty ground inside the compound.
Rebecca was next, climbing quickly and easily, a lithe shadow in the dark. David reached up
That was a thought he could hold on to; a peaceful retirement. Once the monsters behind White Umbrella had been brought to justice, vigilante or otherwise, he’d have no greater responsibility than keeping himself fed and bathed. Perhaps he’d work up to a house-plant…
“I think—veer left a few degrees,” Rebecca said from behind him, startling him, bringing his focus back around. She’d barely spoken above a whisper, but the night was so cold and crisp, the air so perfectly still that every step taken, every breath exhaled seemed to fill the world.
David led them through the darkness, wishing they could use their lights; they should be getting quite close. But even dressed all in black, he was worried they’d be spotted before they could get inside— whatever that meant exactly; Trent had given them no idea of what the facility would look like. In any case, with barely a half moon they wouldn’t see it until they were right on top—
There.
A thickening of shadow, straight ahead. David held up his hand, slowing the others as they moved closer, as he saw a dented metal roof reflecting moonlight. And then a fence, and then a handful of buildings, all of them dark and silent.
David dropped into a walking crouch, motioning for the rest to follow suit, holding the automatic rifle tight against his chest. They crept closer, close enough to see the lonely group of tall one-story structures behind a low fence.
Five, six buildings, no lights, no movement—a front, surely…
“Underground,” Rebecca whispered, and David nodded. Probably; they’d discussed several possibilities, and it seemed the most likely. Even in the wan light he could see that the buildings were old, dusty and worn. There was a smallish structure in the front, five long, low buildings in a row behind it, all with sloping metal roofs. It was certainly big enough to be some kind of a testing ground, the larger buildings as big as aircraft hangars, but between the site’s placement—alone, out in the open in the middle of a desert—and the wear and tear, he’d guess underground.
Good and bad. Good, because they should be able to get into the compound without much trouble; bad because God only knew what kind of surveillance system had been set up. They would have to go in fast.
David turned, still in a crouch, and faced the team. “We’ll need to double-time,” he said softly, “and stay low. We scale the fence, head for the structure closest to the front gate, same order—I’m on point, John’s in back. We have to find the entry ASAP. Watch for cameras, and everyone’s armed as soon as we’re in the compound.”
Nods all around, faces grim and set. David turned and started for the fence, head down, his muscles tight and jumping. Twenty meters, the air biting into his lungs, freezing the light sweat on his skin. Ten meters. Five, and he could see the “No Trespassing” signs posted on the fence, and as they reached the gate, David saw the sign telling them that they were at the privately owned “Weather Monitoring and Survey #7.” He looked up and saw the rounded silhouettes of what had to be satellite dishes on two of the buildings, plus the multiple thin lines of antennae stretching up from one of them.
David touched the fence with the barrel of the M-16, then with his hand. Nothing, and there was no barbed wire either, no sensor lines that he could see, no alarm trips.
Obviously, no weather station would have those; trust Umbrella to be as concise in their fronts as with anything else.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder, grabbed the thick wire and pulled himself up. It was only seven feet; he was at the top in five seconds, flipping himself over and jumping to the dusty ground inside the compound.
Rebecca was next, climbing quickly and easily, a lithe shadow in the dark. David reached up
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