NationStates Jolt Archive

The Umbrella Corporation was one of the big three in Imitora, the big three being the three largest corporations in Imitora. The other two, Weyland-Yutani Heavy Industries and Shinseki Aerospace, however, did not have the, clout, so to say, as Umbrella. WYC, as Weyalnd-Yutani was known, and Shinseki had simple military markets, with little influence at all anywhere else.

Umbrella, on the other hand, produced just about everything. In the public sector, they put out medical goods, computer technology, clothing, appliances, electronic goods, and the like. For the government, they produced some of the top of the line computer programs and computer technology.

And for the military, it produced small arms, equipment, clothing, and a few vehicles, but most of that market was taken by WYC. However, they also secretly, as everything of a less than loved nature was secret, produced bioweapons, chemical weapons, and worked hand in hand with WYC to produce plasmayield warheads.

However, outside Imitora, this powerhouse was little known. They had found no need to market their goods anywhere else, and the government never forced them to sell outside the borderds.

CEO Marrisa Jenks, however, had decided that no was just a good a time as any to show off what could be produced, and what Umbrella was really capable of. It wasn't long before the many governements of the world recieved the off white envalope with the Umbrella emblem printed on the front.

The letter was elegently writtenm, and extended a hand of invitation to the leaders of the world, or should they chose to send an ambasador, to attend a small, informal gala of sorts that would show off the companies many products.

It would be held at the newest production plant in Gremsdale, in the mountains of centeral Imitora. The area never got a temperature above three degrees (farinheit), and was always surounded by snow and ice.

A company representative stationed there was, for the first time, glad that he was, so that he could officially offer the meet and great, and do his job. He flew aboard an Umbrella made CV-22I to Northmapton Intl., where he waited at a private terminal for the representatives to show up.

Lycinki Borotov was not that great of a man in his nation, nor was he in his own mind. He had joined the army with great dreams and was achieving all of his goals until he shot his company commander in a sniper-training exercise gone wrong. He got booted from the army after a six month long Court Martial trial. Now, on a government contracted 666XIII transport turbo-prop, he arrived in Northhampton International in Imitora.

All he had been given was a Video-camera and a pistol to go to the conference with, and he was almost afraid he wouldnt be admitted because of this offensive offer of a diplomat. He had a sense something wouldn't go too well at this conference and just hoped he could snooze through it like he had done at many others.

Antony Feyen, never one for flying, is currently zipping towards Northmapton Intl in one of the corperations many demillitarized HCV (hypersonic cruise vehicle) skminning the outer atmosphere.

Sitting in the modified gunner seat, altered for comfort rather that necessity, he tries to sit back and enjoy the great blue ocean spanning greatly below him that he snaches glimpses of beneath the clouds.

After what seems an eternity or two the pilot crackles onto the head-phones, "We should be landing in about 30 minutes, please make sure you are fastened safely in your seat, we shall begin deceleration and decent now. Minor turbulance is expected."

Thirty minutes of bone jarring jumps and nausiating tilts Antony finally clamours out, practically rolling onto the aplaced staircase. Groping for his small brief case he grabs it and is led to a we crafted terminal, obviously not ment for public use. Spying another man he approaches right hand out saying, "My name is Antony Feyen, representive of Mikosolf Corperation, how do you do?"

Terinis Ferin, was Drizzts army top advisor in foreign affiars for 2 years. He flew in a Modified HC129 Helicopter for private transport. He saw the sea for a while,and then saw the lands and coastal areas of Imitora. In the distance he could see the mountains up ahead.

Terinis hoped that the situation won't be hostile,before he was the advisor, he served in the Drizzts Army Military for 4 Years, and had experince with affairs like these before. He wondered what the heck what kind of plan Umberlla had,but hopes it doesn't go wrong.

He almost poked himself with his standard Walther PPK in case he had any trouble with anything,but he almost felt there was no need for it,but u never know what could happen at all.

He then saw the private terminal, and the helicopter landed on the terminal. Adjusting his blue business coat,he stepped out of the helicopter, along with his bodyguard armed with a small Spectre Submacinegun.He felt cozy with the coat and said to the Representive" Hello,Im Top Adivisor of Foregin Affiars of Drizzts Army". He waited for his response

Northmapton International Airport

A lone V-22 Osprey, painted the dark blue of the Copiosa Scotian Foreign Affairs Department, touched down gently on the tarmac, its spinning rotors shimmering in the sunlight. It slowly came to a stop, and the hatch opened. Special Envoy Sara Davidson was still a little breathless, but held The Osprey might fly like a plane, but it landed just like a helicopter, and Sara had never liked helicopters.

The young diplomat hopped the last few steps, and waved to the representative as her feet hit the ground. She had no idea what she was here for; at least the last time she was in Imitora, she'd known it was to see their newest piece of military hardware. She'd never even heard of the Umbrella Corporation.

Whatever it is, she thought, I just hope it's not boring.

Ø Looked up from the report, pushed it away, and nodded curtly.

"So it's been confirmed then?" She asked, looking up at the analyst in front of her desk."

"Yes, ma'am, there's no other reason. Umbrella doesn't produce anything of interest to the outside world...that is, doesn't produce anything of interest that the outside world knows about. This proves our informant hasn't been tainted, as well." The analyst responded.

"Very well. This is intriguing, we still don't know their full extent, and I will be witnessing their unveiling personally. Ready my helicopter." Ø said, and rose.

Before long, a black helicopter, oddly silent, settled softly onto the icy helipad just outside the entrance to the Gremsdale production plant. Ø walked inside the lobby, and smiled in a deviously unsettling way at the representative.

((I hope this is alright, my reasoning being Cyberutopia, paranoid of businesses as they are, plant informants in most large corporations.))

The Xanthalian government had dispatched a representative upon reciept of the letter, just for good measure to see what this "Umbrella Corporation" was all about. That unfortunate man now stands in the private terminal, holding a briefcase in one hand and a white envelope in the other. The man is a Human, five and a half feet tall with a generally helpless look about him. He is one of the grunt representatives who get sent everywhere too unimportant for the Xanthalian government to pay real attention too. His kind have almost no authority and are generally the most unskilled government employees. They do their jobs only because they are too pathetic to work anyplace else. Harold Ross is as weak-kneed as he is intelligent. Because he crumbles under any kind of pressure though, he can't advance in the diplomatic ranks. Hesitating, he looks pleadingly toward what looks like an Umbrella Corporation representative.

Ø looked over her shoulder at the man who just walked in. At her first glimpse, she almost laughed. This man lacked any form of confidence whatsoever. She pitied him slightly, though. He was clearly a bottom rank diplomat, one of those poor lackeys shoved to whatever desolate meeting their half-assed bosses couldn't remain smart enough to keep time open for. You know, to make it seem like they...

"Cared." She whispered to herself, and smirked.

Jack stepped out of his helicopter. He put his hand to his sunglasses, and looked around. He thought of why he was here. For this "Umbrella Corporation".

Jack snickered. "What kind of a name is that?"

Jack had washed out of the SOMI and decided that politics and business was more his thing than combat. He had been sent here as a diplomat to see what this company offered. Sigma Octavus didn't buy from out of country companies often, but when they did, the company was pretty impressive.

The Alconian Government had been intreguged by the whole affair.
They needed to send someone who had a good grasp of technical design and was good with people. Being cagy was also a fairly good idea, and with the current Winton incident in mind, the Outer Minister was trying to avoid the same fate as the man he just replaced.

Sir Melvin Yarum walked down the gangway from a private jet. Melvin had once commanded some dangerous missions in his day. But the graying 82 year old man seemed to need to lean on a cane now whenever he stopped. His five ten frame had become slightly hunched with age. His bright blue eyes shone from behind a pair of thick glasses. The few remaining whips of white hair framed a face more wrinkles than flat spots. The cane looked a bit on the heavy side, and the metal case seemed small and thin.

He nodded to the represenative.

(Imorta, liked the idea but had to work it in with my current Rping/history and make up...so we get somewhat bad a** turned old man with cane.)

OOC: Cyber, I'll go with it, although in most cases, because of the level of ssecurity in Imitora as a whole, unless your informant was Imitoran born, has an Imitoran barcode, and can pass several security checks, he'd most likely be working in some public sector job outside of Imitora itself, most likely in one of the colonies, or has, infact, been comprimised, killed, and replaced with a 'double'.

IC:

The air in the underground compound was stale, despite the several AC units throughout the building. The research labs themselves hadn't been used in over three months, a stockpile of dead bodies had been placed in the labs. Bodies of 'traitors' to the corporation, those who had 'sold their bodies' to science, and otehrs that the company had just, picked up off the streets.

Over five hundred in all had been piled in various rooms of the compound, a little under a mile underground. Many AC units and air freshenrs had been sprayed to all but remove the stench of death, and was, for the most part, succesfull.

Less than an hour after the representative had left, a chemical 'virus' had been pumped into the air stream. It was the test virus of 'Ice Pick', a chemical that, if succesful, would bring a dead person back to life to the stage before death, and was to be used on dead Imitoran Marines.

If succesful, the technicians would be alive by the time the representatives had arrived, and working rather productively. Several small CCTV cammeras had been placed througout the compound to observe the tour.
______

At Northampton, the representative strode forward, exuding confidence and pride from every pore. He extended his hand, personally greeting every representative, introducing himself as Matt Verstov.

His suite was Agrigentonian in make, and stylish. His hair was trimmed, and he smelled like one of the many higher end colonges on the market. Three gaurds, dressed in black assault gear, armed with Umbrella made M50 assault rifles and M5A2 .45cal pistols. They looked rather unintrested in the goings on, and simply gaurded the CV-22I.

As Borotov exited the plance, he tightened his cheap tie and straightened his jacket, he wanted to make a good appearance for once, and briskly walked into the terminal through a cold burst of air. He hated the cold, but he knew it was one of his job's little kinks. Enjoy a three day stay at an island paradise, and then have a two week stay at a frozen comound in the middle of no where.

Lycinki entered the terminal and was quickly greeted by an apparent representitive of this "Umbrella Corporation". After shaking hands and some small talk, he was directed to an area of the lounge where some other representatives were waiting.

Antony Feyen observed the other representatives, trying his best to pick out their dominating personality traits. Some just screamed it, a women extruding confidence, a man with complete lack of it. Others were harder to read.

Giving a slight shrug he thought, I will have plenty of time to size up who is here, glancing at the slight drifting of snow outside. Finding a chair he takes a seat and begins to rummage through the briefcase that he was assigned soon after receiving the brief memo that he was heading out.

Seems pretty standard stuff; a copy of the memo, a brief summary of what we known of Umrella (which isn't very much mind you), a small emergency med/survival kit (containing tunicate, pain killers, over the counter remedies, water purifying packet, lighter, flare gun), and assorted other office supplies (paper, pen, etc).

A slight phantom pain, pulls him out of his mussing and careful check of the case. Absentmindedly he rubs his left arm, Even after what, five years, it still hurts...

OOC: Dammit. Ignore this.

The old Alconian shook Matt's hand and made a comment to the greeting..."well nice to be here, so what have you boys and girls of Umbrella got to show us?"

(Uh, Resident Evil thread...)

(Uh, Resident Evil thread...)

(ooc: yah, i just read imitora's post... it was like the whole movie came back through my head in two seconds.)

"Yes, that would be me," Matt said, holding out his hand. He looked around at the others, checking them out, seeing what he could figure of them, before leading them into the lounge. "If you don't mind waiting, we will be leaving soon. We just gotta get the bird ready to go, and we'll be off."

In the room, magazines were scattered across the floor, and a pot of coffe was placed on the tables. "I'm sorry its not to organized. This was a last minute thing, and the folks here at Northampton didn't have a chance to get ready for us."

OOC: Shoulda explained better, but Northampton, year round, is very warm. The coldest it'll get will be maybe 69, 70. However, Gremdale, being in the mountains, is much colder.

Harold puts on a smile and hands Matt the envelope. "This is an order from my government giving me permission to represent the Xanthalian Republic here." He bows. "Nice to meet you."

OOC: Yeah, considering I have a bunch of Nemesis like bio-weapons and other goodies, I decided I might as well have an Umbrella, and go with it. However, unlike the games, those who get out will have teh chance to speak out against Umbrella...but it wont end there... :twisted:

Also, a M50 (http://www.boomarms.com/collector/KnightG36/1.jpg) is 6.7mm assault rifle used by most Imitoran STARs (in Missiouri, teh SWAT teams are called STARs as well), Metro, and HRT units, and most of the militaries Urban CT units. However, it isn't well used by ICMC regulars and SF units.

OOC: Well then just ignore the passing comment on snow :P

"Well it is definatly more organized than many a desks back in HQ," Antony Feyen said with a chuckle, "Oh by the way, Antony Feyen, from Mikosolf External Diplomacy Division, represnting Mikosolf Corperation and all its subsidiaries." He says warm grin.

Also, a M50 (http://www.boomarms.com/collector/KnightG36/1.jpg) is 6.7mm assault rifle used by most Imitoran STARs (in Missiouri, teh SWAT teams are called STARs as well), Metro, and HRT units, and most of the militaries Urban CT units. However, it isn't well used by ICMC regulars and SF units.

ooc: hey! no MP5s? wtf? why such a loud gun that everyone can hear.... o... yeah... that... hehe.... ill shut up now.

The old man thumps down in a chair and flips through a magazine. He just mumbles.."Hurry up and wait, Sir Roland was right about being a diplomat, same as being in the Navy." Sir Roland appeared to be wearing a well made, but older gray, silk suit. He had an overcoat under one arm.


(Well I've used the woman from Resident Evil as the Heir to the Throne of Alcona and Hubris. I tend to avoid these because it becomes even more obvious if I use her.)

OOC: I use character from games as Characters or inspiration for characters all the time, lol. I gotta go do something real quick, but when I get back, the group will leave, and the goodieness will start.

Jack walked up to their host and stuck out his hand. "Jack Kennedy. Nice to meet you. I'm here representing Sigma Octavus."

(Heh, why not. Might as well be Leon's cousin.)

OOC: Pizza ordered...time to go to work...

A man wearin a dark blue flight suit walked into the room and nodded a greeting to everyone. "Well," Matt started, "it looks like we are ready to go. If everyone will follow me," he said, starting out the door.

The CV-22I was a modified V-22, done by Umbrella, equiped to offer the penultimate in VIP transport. It was sent both as a transport tool, as well as just the begining of the onslaught of advertisements that would be broadcasted to the representatives.

Inside, plush leather seats with full reclining abilities would cup and gently hold the occupants. A soft carpeting lined the floors, and an area had been cleared for a veiwing screen for non-holo movies, and a open area set up for holo movies.

The cabin seemed somewhat small, but considering that a full kitchen was on the other side of the bulkhead, it was well worth it. There were three bathrooms, and special absorbant coating kept the inside of the CV-22I quiet.

"This is our standard CV-22I. We also have a CV-22I(S) for personal transport, the epitome of private aircraft if you will. In the military market, we sell the MV-22I, TV-22I, and the MV-22I(SF). There are more products, but brocheres handed out will explain everything we offer." The brocuhers that a young, attractive flight attendant handed out described all the Umbrella products, both public and private sector.

However, they left out certain products such as the many bio, chemical, and biochemical weapons. It also left out the ETC/P Rifle systems that the Imitoran 1st SOU-D. The rifles worked on a pulse action, and had barrel mounted internal rails that would excelerate the round to speeds well over that of high velocity rounds.

Matt went on first by offering the representatives a drink, which were served very promptly, and then by explaining the order of the events. "First, we'll land at Gremdale, the landing pad is only a few feet from the entrance to teh upper facility. Then, we'll take a ride on an elevator that will last oply a few moments, yet, suprisingly, will deliver us to the research facility one mile inside the mountain. This is a public medical facility, working on cures for most diseases and viruses out there today. Cammeras will be allowed, but in certain areas, photography is, of course, prohibited."

The Osprey began to taxi, but, instead of lifting off as it normaly would, it rolled forward, taking off somewhat like an airplane, with the props rotated slightly forward. "Our...research...has shown that one of you doesn't enjoy helicopter flight, and therefore, we decided to accomodate the best we could," Matt said, smiling.

The old Alconian just smiled at the waitress, ordered a water and raised an eyebrow. One did not typically place a medical facility under a mile of mountain unless you had something someone might want to destroy, or something you wanted to bury, quickly. Although both would need a class five bio containment level...it was likely that a few of the labs were working on taking said 'diseases' into weapons.

Harold blinks and looks out the window, enjoying the view.

Borotov was almost in shock. This was so far appearing to be one of the best assignments given to him yet. Great drink selection, a nice waitress serving it.... and more, the only thing getting him was that it was going to be cold as hell at that mountain complex.

Saving post for Lark...

As the pilot announced the halfway point of the flight, Borortov put on his headphones and started his cd player, starting on track eight of an ancient cd his grandfather had given him:
I can remember a place i used to go. Chrysanthemums of white, they seemed so beautiful. I can remember. I searched for the amaranth. I'd shut my eyes to see. Oh, how i smiled then, so near the cherished ones. I knew they would appear... saw not a single one. Oh, how I smiled then, waiting so patiently. I'd make a wish and bleed. While I waited I was wasting away. I can remember... dreamt so vividly, soft creatures draped in white, light kisses gracing me. I can remember when I first realized dreams were the only place to see them. While I waited I was wasting away. Hope was wasting away. Faith was wasting away. I was wasting away. I never, never wanted this. I always wanted to believe, but from the start I'd been decieved. I never, never wanted this. Inside a crumbling effigy, so dies all innocence. But you promised me....

He still remembered that day, beside his grandfathers deathbed, where his father gave him that CD, it meant that much to him. it was from the year 2003; many many years ago, a cd that meant so much...
Borotov fell into a deep sleep.

OOC:
Too late to tag along? I know one reclusive little dictatoress who would be very interested in all this..

The CV-22I began its descent suddenly, yet softly. The Osprey banked down and to the right, and slid towards the landing field. The vertiplane landed like a regular aircraft, and taxied towards the upper entrance of the facility.

A terminal style structure was extended to teh Osprey, and pressed agianst the side of the aircraft. Matt stood, and led the group off the plane down the terminal. Cammeras observed and recorded the entire ordeal.

As the appraoched a menacing looking door, Matt pressed his hand against a scanner, and the door slid open. He stepped into the upper office, devoid of personel. Matt looked around, slightly confused, but wrote it off as a possible coffee break.

"We have a fairly relaxed atmosphere," Matt explained. He lead them to a elevator, and as they all moved on, he pressed the 'down' button. He explained that the elevator worked on a fluid adjustment level, that allowed it to move at speeds of over 60 miles a minute without the occupants feeling any of the effects, as a liquid that surrounded the elevator's inner cassing absorbed all the energy. This technology would soon be for sale.

The elevator, unbeknownst to the representatives, began to slow, and stopped softly on the floor of the research facility. As the door slid open slowly, Matt extended his hand out. "Welcome to Lab One One Seven C, home to our biological and viral cure facility!"

He looked on only to see an empty hallway, with labs on either side of the hall. He was dumbfounded.

OOC:
Too late to tag along? I know one reclusive little dictatoress who would be very interested in all this..

Feel free.

Lycinki was slightly confused when Matt looked back at the group with a worried composure and then fixing a smile upon his face, leading the men and women out of the elevator.

Then, when he say no one in the compound ahead of him, he was even more worried. Did they do everything by machine, but then why was a paper sliding across the floor from a breeze of one of the powerful AC units throughout the room? Had something gone wrong here? He looked at one of the counters and saw a phone unhooked from it's station and lying upside down with a dead tone coming from it. Now he was scared.

Matt walked forward, and adjusted his tie. He looked into a lab on his left, no one. He looked into another, and again, it was empty. "Hmmm," he said, looking around, "intresting." He walked into one of the labs, and picked up the phone, pressing in a four number extension. "Hey, Cpl. Daniels. Is there anyone upstairs? No? Can ya check the..." he stopped

He hung the phone up, and looked at teh group. "The phone line went dead." He walked out, back to the group, and gestured for them to follow him. "It's probably break time. Lets try the break room."

He walked around the corner, and stopped dead, looking at a trail of blood that lead into the bathroom. He turned, and, before the representatives could see anythgin, he pointed to teh elevator. "I'm sorry, but I think we need to cut this short, we have a little bit of a problem."

He swiped his card through a reader that would order the elevator, but, it didn't respond. He tired again, and again, nothing happened. He frowned and continued to work to get the elevator to come. "What the hell?" he swore, swipping the card over and over. "Must be a connector problem, wait here, I'll check it out," he said, hoping that the trail of crimson red, semi chunky blood that stained the white tile would go un-noticed.

Zina's eyes narrowed as she looked down the empty corridor. For the first time, she was beginning to think this might have been a bad idea. None of her advisers had suggested the nation's leader shouldn't go wandering off on her own into the unknown but, now that she thought about it, perhaps they had secretly been hoping to get rid of her.

If I die because of them, I'll have them all executed, she silently vowed.

The trip had been pleasant, and she had been eager and excited to arrive. But now... She felt her heart beat a little faster with fear.

She watched as the lift failed to respond. So they were trapped. Not good.

Then, on impulse, she broke away from the others, and began walking down the corridor. She heard one of them gasp. She took a turn and went on walking. If it was a trap, she didn't want to stay with the group. That made sense, didn't it? To her it did. Her fear increased at every step, but then her survival instincts had never been very finely tuned, and she knew she had a habit of doing stupid things.

Ah, well. I'm still alive... For now.

"Uh, Mr. Verstov? Do you mind if I video tape this? My government needs to know the credibility of any experiments here."

"Yeah, go ahead," Matt called back opening a door to a control room down the hall. As he opened the door, he clicked on a light, and stepped inside. He looked around inside, and found the switches perfect.

He stepped out of the room, and looked back at the group. "THe switches are fine, maybe its in use," he said, more asking than stating. "I'm gonna try to call the security unit, see if I can get in touch with them."

He walked back into the room and picked up the phone, dialing the extension. It rang, but no one answered. After two minutes of listening to it the tone, he hung up. "Funny, line works, but no answer."

Picking up his camera, Lycinki turned it on and looked into one of the labs. a bunson burner was still on under a group of viles and the room was prestinely clean. He walked around and looked at some labels of viles and was amazed by the vast array of technology. He quickly peeked into some cabinets and when he opened one, he quickly closed it and silently screamed, grabbing the nearest diplomat and showing him. That diplomat screamed...

Matt heard teh scream, and ran across the hall. He didn't expect the man to actually go into one of the labs. "What?" he demanded, looking into the lab to see what they were shouting about.

"There.... theres something writhing and slimy in one of those cabinets! Its in a pool of bllloood..." shakily voiced Borotov.

Whistling slightly - a very foolish thing to do if she'd stopped to think about it, but she didn't - Zina pushed open a door at random. It looked like a lab of some sort. The only light was flickering.

Using a chair to block the door in an open position, she walked over to a tiled table. On it was a large red stain dripping onto the floor. Bits of broken glass were scattered over the table and in the liquid. Curious, she dabbed one finger into it and licked it clean.

"Human blood..." she said thoughtfully. "Quite fresh, too..." Given the amount, she guessed whoever had lost it was no longer alive. But where was the body? She dabbed her finger in again, licked the blood off, smiled to herself and left the room. She made her way back to the others.

"Just out of curiosity... were you experimenting on people here?"

Matt stepped forward, and opened the cabnet, looking at the creature. He steeped back, his voice not comming to him to scream. He turned, and vomited away from the cabnet. As he cleaned his mouth and turned away from the trash can, he locked the cabnet, and backed away. "We...we...we gotta get outa here," he excalimed turning away and sprinting out of the room.

He ran down teh hallway, out of sight of the group. He looked around, and realised he had lost teh group. He turned another corner, and ran into someone, knocking him to the ground.

The body he bumped into looked ravaged. His skin was hanging from bones, and his jaw was obviously broken, and not set. One arm hung from strands of muscle fiber and tissue.

Matt forced himself to stand, and ran back around another corner, and found himself staring at the group of representatives. His mouth hung open, and the words wouldn't come. He looked at a wall with a box on it, and fumbled with the key pad.

"I can't get it open it," he said stuttering, mashing the keypad. Finally, he forced the code in, and opened the door to the box. There was a red button behind a glass box. He pulled his arm back into the coat, and slammed the glass hitting a button, above which was a sign that read "For Emergency Situations Only." This was an emergency situation.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT BUTTON FOR?" Lysinki yelled quickly, along with a loud agreement from all the other representatives who could read the script above the button. Now he was truly afraid, with his camera hanging from his hand pointing back at a ravaged thing slowly inching towards the group.

Zina was beginning to feel a little sick. And frightened. And angry. And confused.

Keeping her voice as calm as she could make it, and straightening to a dignified pose, she glared at Matt.

"I demand to know what's going on here!"

Matt turned, but before he could speak, he could see the ravaged person crawling towards him and the group. "Oh my God..." he stuttered out before fainting.

The entire sceene was being seen on many of teh CCTVs at the Umbrella headquarter in Newport. Jenks smilled. "Its all going to plan," she said, almost evily. She looked at the red light blinking on her video phone, and pressed the small white button next to it, authorizing one of the emergency situation teams to suit up for action.

In most cases, should the ES button be pressed in any lab, one of Umbrella's many Hostage Rescue Units would be called into action. However, in this case, it was a clean up unit. More specifically, a 'Sanatation team'. The Sanatation Team would come into play whenever a project was breached and the survival of Umbrella employes wasn't a concern.

She smiled, and sipped a glass of soda.

OOC: I gotta hit the sack, got a big test tomorow, will continue when I awake.

i gotta hit the sack too... be back round 6 pm 2day.

Zina's eyes widened, and the blood seemed to drain from her face. She took several quick, staggering steps back.

"Everyone, back away! Perhaps it'll start ripping up our guide" - she glanced at the unconscious man on the floor - "and give us time to run..."

OOC: I'd recomend running...Matt isn't gonna wake up anytime soon, and your gonna need a head start on the Sanatation Team or else your gonna be dead regardless.

Jack looked at the corpse. So this is what they had to offer.

If I survive this, I might report them as a good investment.

He looked at Matt on the ground. "We can't just leave him here, can we?"

The odd thing was that the old man hadn't said much of anything...until now. "There are three obvious things about this situation. The first is that we are a mile underground, in a bilogical lab facility. Only a weapons facility would be so built..."
He pauses for that to sink in...
"Second, we were allowed into an area covered in blood, in which there is an obvious problem. Which says to me that we are guinea pigs in an experiment. A nice random sample of people to test this bio weapon on..."
"Third, that the government of this nation is looking at using the weapon against all of our nations. We will not be allowed to leave this area alive, since that would spoil the invasion plans of the Imortian government now wouldn't it?"
He looked around the rest of the group. "The only chance we have to save ourselves and our nation from whatever sick bioweapon these parkara have released on us is to find our own exit. Now then, I suggest we leave the area before we are 'dispatched' post haste.

He walks forward and turns a corner walking down the hall at a decent pace.

OOC: Really if they were expecting a rescue team they wouldn't be moving...Good thing we have a parnoid Alconian around...

About thirty miles east, and five miles below, Gremdale, the small military style building was buzzing with activity. On the outside landing pad, three helicopters were being prepped for assault. On board one of the helicopters, an MH-60I Nighthawk, eleven operatives, dressed in black assault gear, checked their weapons and gear.

"Good to go?" the pilot asked, calling back.

"Naw, we got one more comming," the lead said, settling in, his M45 (http://www.boomarms.com/collector/ASSASSIN/SIR/1.jpg) carbine, the same used by the rest of the team, resting across his chest.

As he said that, another operative ran out on the tarmac, and hopped into the Nighthawk. He wore teh same black assault BDUs, Umbrella made crossdraw vest, gas mask, and ski mask that the rest of teh team wore. He carried a newer weapon, an M48 (http://www.boomarms.com/collector/SPR/1.jpg). He also, unlike the rest of the memebers, wore a drop down style thigh holster that held an Umbrella made .357 revolver. Like the rest of the team, he wore a Smith&Wesson 1006 copy, also made by Umbrella.

"Bout time!" the team leader shouted, helping the late member into the chopper. "We were about to leave you, corpral!"

Cpl. Mike Quintero laughed, shouting over the sounds of the rotors. "Good thing you didn't."

The MH-60I lifted off the ground, flanked by two MH-6I(A) Blackwidows, and turned towards the facility, moving at a decent pace. It would take about twenty minutes to get to the facility. Johnathan Dark, the team leader, briefed them.

"We got a clean up situation. A couple of representatives have seen somethign or done somethign they werent suposed to do, I dunno. All I know is that they are mostly standerd diplomat types, nothgiin big to worry about. A few ex soldiers, but nothing major."

The helicopter banked towards the facility, barely visable in the distance. "Anyways, I was told about some sorta project, so we aren't supposed to shoot anything that isn't a diplomat. Good deal?" When he received nods from the memebers of his team, he continued. "Good deal. We'll be roping in in about ten minutes, so lets get this shit done. I'd like to go home early for once. And remeber, expect anything"

With that, the Sanatation Team flipped down their gas masks, and prepared to go.

Sara didn't hear a word the Alconian said, but the sight of the half-dead man crawling towards them made up her mind for her. She shook her head vigorously.

"Alright, I think it's abundantly obvious that we can't stay here. What the rest of you do with our guide is up to you; I obviously can't carry him. I'm going with the old man."

(Crap this darn topic won't open,keeps timing me out when I try to post)

Watching the half-dead man coming towards them.Terinis quickly fitted a silencer to his Walther PPK,and picked up the guide in with his other hand.

He sees that 2 people are leaving the situation at the moment,he decides he better get this guy away from that thing so he wouldn't get hurt.He walks backwards,facing the half-dead thing while he walks and he also points his silenced weapon at it, in case if it attack him.He laid the man 10 square feet away from the thing.He then looked through his sight on his gun and waited.

(Crap this darn topic won't open,keeps timing me out when I try to post)

Watching the half-dead man coming towards them.Terinis quickly fitted a silencer to his Walther PPK,and picked up the guide in with his other hand.

He sees that 2 people are leaving the situation at the moment,he decides he better get this guy away from that thing so he wouldn't get hurt.He walks backwards,facing the half-dead thing while he walks and he also points his silenced weapon at it, in case if it attack him.He laid the man 10 square feet away from the thing.He then looked through his sight on his gun and waited.

(Crap this darn topic won't open,keeps timing me out when I try to post)

Watching the half-dead man coming towards them.Terinis quickly fitted a silencer to his Walther PPK,and picked up the guide in with his other hand.

He sees that 2 people are leaving the situation at the moment,he decides he better get this guy away from that thing so he wouldn't get hurt.He walks backwards,facing the half-dead thing while he walks and he also points his silenced weapon at it, in case if it attack him.He laid the man 10 square feet away from the thing.He then looked through his sight on his gun and waited.

(Crap this darn topic won't open,keeps timing me out when I try to post)

Watching the half-dead man coming towards them.Terinis quickly fitted a silencer to his Walther PPK,and picked up the guide in with his other hand.

He sees that 2 people are leaving the situation at the moment,he decides he better get this guy away from that thing so he wouldn't get hurt.He walks backwards,facing the half-dead thing while he walks and he also points his silenced weapon at it, in case if it attack him.He laid the man 10 square feet away from the thing.He then looked through his sight on his gun and waited.

OOC: Wow, quituple post...

IC:

The body continued to crawl forward, moaning incoiherently as it did so. As it crawled, it left a trail of blood behind its body, but not the bright red blood that comes from a fresh cut, but deep crimson blood, chunky and coagulated.

Matt was still unconscious, and didn't look like he was going to be doing anythgin anytime soon. When he landed, his head bounced off a nearby table, giving him a concusion, and leaving a small cut along the side of his head.

When Terinis pulled his weapon, one of hte automated cammeras zommed in on the weapon, and the facility's computer listed the weapon as being drawn, and created a database for all weapons that were viewed.

Jack picked up a nearby chair and hurled it at the moving corpse. He then picked up their unconscious host and slung him over his shoulders.

The old man stopped and looked at the man with the gun. "First, I think you should take rear, and let the unarmed man carry him. Second, keep in line, I'll damn well take point...I think we may need some more weapons." He stops at a door and opens it. The room is empty and discheveled but there are three flamable liquids storage cabinets sitting side by side on one wall.

He begins to look for denatured alchol, methanol, or some other usable flamable chemical.

The chair boucned off the ground next to the corpse, sliding across th floor, and slammed into a wall. The corpse continued crawling forward mindlessly. The zombie continued to moan, looking at teh representatives as an all you can eat buffet.

Harold, caught up in the events, follows those around him mindlessly. He seems to be operating on some kind of autopilot.

Sara shivered. "Look, I hope this doesn't sound too unreasonable, but would someone mind... you know... shooting him or something?" She gestured toward the crawling corpse.

Terinis glanced a little at the old man,then looked at the corpse crawling towards them.He looked around for a knife or something ready to stab the corpses head.He quickly finds a small one that ain't sharp,but'll do for now.He walks over back to the group.

He stops sepreating him and the zombie by a table,with his gun in one hand and the knife in the other hand.Before he looked at the zombie,he looked at the auto camera that he spotted shining a glass from the lights.He was serious this time,not that cocky attuide that he usually does in these kind of situations.He looks at the zombie and he makes a impression that he is getting ready to strike it.

"That would raise alot of alarm for the base as u can see from the cameras'he replied.But against his doubts,he shot the zombie in the head 3 times to make sure it was down.

"Here this won't do at all..." He pulled a bottle of Benzene out of the cabinet and threw the bottle at the corpse. It smashed covering the creature with flamable liquid. The old man pulled a lighter from his pocket, lit a wadded up fragment of cloth, and threw it on the zombie.
They now had a wall of flame across the hall behind them, with a cooking zombie within it.

The young diplomat turned away, feeling a little sick. "Thank you," she mumbled.

Harold whimpers, "Can I go home now?"

"Bleeding Socialist..." came out of the old man's mouth. "Ah, here we go...a nice bottle of ethyl acetate and some good old methanol. I just wish we had some sodium nitrate. Now would you cut up this cheap lab coat young man into 1 inch by six inch strips please?" He asked the man with the knife.

The black Nighthawk came to a hover over the CV-22I, still on the pad. Ropes were kicked out of the chopper, and the first six memebers of the twelve man assault team slid down the ropes. They landed on top of the CV-22I, and opened an emergency roof mounted escape hatch. They dropped into the Osprey, and moved through the aircraft quickly, securing it.

The other six landed next to it, and moved towards the upper level of the facility. They used a breaching charge to blow open teh door, and the three security operatives looked on in suprise. They quickly caught 6.7mm JHP rounds in the chest and face, ripping them to shreads.

Quintero swung his rifle towards a target, and put three rounds into him, dropping him. "Clear!" he shouted into the throat mike, the gas mask muffling his voice.

The other six memebers who had secured the CV-22I ran into the Upper Level and they began to set up a communications center. One, with a wrist mounted PDA, began hacking into the control set up for the facility.

The Drow walked over and put away his gun and got the knife.He picked up the coat, layed it on a near table and started cutting the strips.The when he was done he handed the strips to the Old Man.."Here ya go Old Man"he said.

He walked over to Harold" Don't worry,we'll get out of here soon,but for now we must know whats going on right now".He walked over to his old postion at the table and pulled out his gun and fired another shot at the Zombies Head.

Harold looks momentarily angry, in a pathetic sort of way. "No! I refuse to stay here and get killed! I'm leaving!" He heads back the way they had come.

(OOC: Out for the night. Back tomorrow afternoon.)

The old man assembled six improptu 'cocktails' using a mixture of methanol and ethyl acetate in glass sample bottles. He soaked the rags in ethyl acetate

"Hey, just as long as we get out of here, I'll go anywhere."

Jack was still carrying the unconscious man, hardly showing any effort. He changed positions so that the man slung over one shoulder, and Jack walked up to a rolling cart. Carefully placing the man down, Jack set about to destroy the cart. Once he had seperated one of the steel legs, he picked the man back up, still carrying the pipe.

He gave a practice swing, and found it a bit difficult with the man over his other shoulder. It would do however.

He watches as Harold runs out the door."Fool,I have the feeling theres something more than just this zombie going on"he said,looking at the other represntives.

He fired 2 more shots at the zombie,then he reloaded the gun."Well I guess its your turn then" he said towrads the Old man

"Hmm my turn? Your the one unloading lead into a very crisped zombie. And I have already stated that we are now seeing some advanced bio weapon used against us." He finishes his cocktails and loads them into the pockets of his jacket, along with a flint and steel bunsun lighter.

"I'm afraid we can only rely on ourselves, any outside help is likely going to just kill us all so that we don't spill the perverbal beans about the Imortian invasion... we need to find a map of the facility, or some other means of egress"

He opens a second door and peers out into the hall beyound.

The assault team looked down the shafts. "One mile. Little to far for a standard repell. Whats up?" one asked, walking away from the open shaft.

"Easy," the technician of the group said. We ride it down, but use the under opening once we get their. That way, teh door wont open, and we can get in rather covertly."

"Right," Mike said, standing up from a crouched position. He removed the revolved from it's thigh holster, and twirled it around his finger, sliding it back into the holster.

The elevator came up, and they slid onto it, and went to work opening the hatch to teh under floor as it shot down the shaft.

"Yea we need to get to a control room of some sort,those rooms usually have maps or radar findings on to see if more of those things are around,and maybe we should also never pass up a weapons locker in case"he replied looking at the other represintives while talking to the old man.He got the new clip in and was 4 feet behind the old man just in case he needed covering support.

"We should also avoid any lab personal or guards,I have a bad feeling about them in this scenario'he also said.

The Alconian shuffled down the hall. "Well then any ideas on how to locate it? He stops for a moment and listens. "We need keep our ears open as well..."

Jack followed close after the guy with the gun. He doubted that the man over his shoulder would wake up anytime soon, and thought of some way to get the weight off, but keep him with them.

"Now if only I could find a wheelchair...."


(What's the chance of it? Eh?)

(Try a nice flatbed cargo platform actually)

((Sorry for my absense. I hate it how teachers think that since you have spring break, you have more time for work. Ugh.))

"I knew it, why did I ever come?" Ø asked herself, chuckling. "Well, the old man is right. There's certainly not just one of these...things, and it's guaranteed there's some form of termination team coming in here to kill everything. I'm pretty sure I just heard gunshots."

She wrenched one of the steel legs out a table after a short struggle with it, and held a combat knife she drew from her ankle in her other hand.

"So, we're probably up against automatic weapons totting bastards here, and we've got one pistol. Looks like the perfect situation for some booby traps. Hand me one of those cocktails, would you?"

"Ah, I'd prefer you used the remainder of the Ethyl acetate and methanol rather than depleate our present ready stock..."

OOC: Little. You might find a stretcher or two, but thats it. im working on ana assault team post, but right now, I'll tell ya what your looking at atm. Your on the first of seven research levels. On the seventh level (gotta go down) there is anotehr eleveator that is a service accesses. If you;'ve ever seen the RE movie, the facility is set up like that. However, it is very maze like, and not easy to move around. The only way to move between levels are the stairs, which will be crawling with zombies. Further, levels three, five and six are all labs, no hallways, so you'll need to find a way to move through the labs. My hope is that we do one level every two days to get the max potential out of the RP, and really develop the characters so that, if they do die, we might actually miss them. I can tell you that right now, Matt will die, and Mike will be the only survivng memeber of the sanatation team, but I wont say how... :twisted:

"In that case we better at least a few empty offices or something like to pick up intel where everything is at, theres gotta be some kinda intel in those offices, their computers would do good in this kinda situation" he said.

He checks if the silencer is correctly fastned to the gun at all. He tries to see with his racial darkvision, he could see a bit,but this darkness is a bit different than normal darkness.

"And Also check if one of these offices has a medkit for that fellow that his wounded"he also said.

Sir Melvin nodded in agreement.

In the mean time, Harold is hopelessly lost. Having found the main door locked, he had tried to find a way around without success and now has lost all his bearings. He wanders about the halls aimlessly, tensing at the slightest sound. Finding a small pistol in the hands of a very dead security guard, he takes the weapon. What am I doing? he asks himself, I've never fired a gun in my life! He continues on, calling in a frightened voice for help to the empty rooms and corridors.

The elevator reached the bottom of the shaft, and the 12 man Sanatation Unit slid out from underneath the elevator into the ducting underneath the floor. Within minutes, they had slid into the main hallway of the first floor, and looked around. It was clear.

They heard a voice calling for someone, and they followed it through the corridors. They turned around a corner, and saw a lone man, stumbling around, holding a pistol.

"Drop it!" Quintero shouted, bringing his rifle to bear on the man. Within seconds, he had several rifles all aimed at him.

OOC: Sorry for the crap post, it ate my twelve paragraph good one...

OOC: That's why you copy your posts before you hit the 'Submit' button. Either that or just stick to really short posts like this one. Of course, since this is your RP you need to handle most of the description. The rest of us can stick to reaction and interaction.

IC: Harold drops the pistol along with the contents of his bladder, which dribble through his jeans onto the floor. He falls over in a dead faint.

ooc: may i join in with an injured lab assistant or something along those lines? (ill be asleep for the next 8 hours, so no hurry)

Zina personally felt carrying an injured man around was just slowing them down, but she kept quiet. After all, it was good to know that, if she was injured, they would carry her around, too.

Also, she was relying on the others for protection. She was no fighter. The only dead people she had ever seen had been cooked and served to her on a plate, or executed on her orders. Not drooling and decomposing and trying to eat her.

It was almost enough to put her off cannibalism, really.

She looked round the lab.
"A medkit might also have a few knives in it..." she muttered.

Great. Knives. To use against people who will probably be coming at us with automatic rifles...

She spotted a computer, and walked over to it. There was blood on some of the keys. She switched it on... and was promptly asked for a password. She sighed.

"Anyone here good with computers?" she called.

Jack had found a rolling cart, very similar to the one he had dismantled. He had put their host in it, and was now wheeling him around in front of him. Wasn't a wheelchair, but it would do.

"For crying out loud, keep it down!" Sara hissed at Zina. "I'm not sure what that thing was, but I don't want any more of them to find out we're here." She sat down at the computer, took a quick glance around the room, and started typing the names of objects she saw. Not the best method, she thought, but unless one of these macho men has a better one...

Zina glared at Sara furiously. She wasn't used to being criticised. But she forced herself to stay calm. The woman had a point.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. She looked over Sara's shoulder, watching her progress hopefully.

"Hmph if security allowed for anything other than a random alpha numeric code then they are fairly lax around here."

He walked off to an other room, it was dark inside he switched on the light...

"Ah, hell..." could be heard and several shuffling sounds from the doorway...a light phooop could be heard and muffled swearing. The door closed and locked behind the old man.

"Oh shit,the doors locked"he quickly said, trying to twist the knob in all directions(What type of door is these?). He tried knocking on it silenty, seeing if theres a response from the other side, but he didn't hear a thing.

He thought about the knob and decided that his gun is needed for this.He pointed it at the knob,and shot the nob trying to make it break apart from the door so they can open the door without tany lockpicking.

OOC: I locked my character in a lab, the rest of you are free to move about...

IC:

Another sound of "Phroom"...the door began becoming hot...as though there was a fire contained in the lab on the other side of the door. A few small explosions could be heard...and the acid smell of a chemical fire.

"Well shit. That's one down. I think we should try and find a way out. Really soon. Otherwise, we're all dead."

Jack was completely calm during his entire period of talking. He was absent mindedly twirling the pipe in his hand.

(OOC: I think he might split off from the group at some time. On accident of course.)

OOC: All the doors are pull open/auto close, auto lock, 4 inch thick diamond (not glass), and can stop just about any small arm round. Im working on a post now. The doors can be unlocked either by a keycard, or by the power going out. In case of a power outage, emergency redlights will click on, and all teh door will unlock. However, that may or may not be good as you get to the...lower levels... :twisted:

Quintero lead his five man, six including himself, element down teh corridor. The team had split into two groups of six. His was moving down the stairs towards the second level, towards the power control room. they had somehow passed teh representative group without seeing them, or being seen.

In another lab, three of the Sanatation Team had handcuffed the Xanthallian ambasador, and had him tossed into a corner. They were going through data files that would assist them in taking out the other representatives.

The final three were exploring another set of labs on the other side of the first level of the compound, when one of them heards a sound. A dull moan. "What the hell?" one of them asked, leading her tow comrades towards the noise.

(I'm somewhat basing this on the bio-labs I once worked in...at least for the upper level.) The door at the far side of the Lab opened revealing a somewhat messy looking figure.

Smoke poured out along with him...he looked down the service corridor. It was filled with various peices of furniture in storage, the overhead water and electrical service went off down to a single door. He hobbled down the somewhat dark passage as he had a nasty gash on one leg.

Harold comes around slowly, moaning pathetically. "Where am I?" He tries to rub a bump on his head, but discovers he is restrained. He raises his eyes and looks around at his captors. "Who are you? What's going on?"

While Sara was working at the computer, Zina searched around and envetually came across a medical kit. She emptied it, selected a thin surgical knife and a small bottle of chlorophorm, and slipped them into her pockets.

Looking around, she noticed their group was somewhat smaller than it had been to start with. She shook her head. She had changed her mind, and had no intention now of wandering off on her own. She would stick close to Sara and the others.

A part of her hoped the missing representatives had been eaten by those zombies. If the creatures could just gorge themselves, maybe they wouldn't be so eager to attack the survivors. She could only hope.

What were they, anyway? Turning corpses into zombies was a useful trick to know. If she got out of here alive, she would have to find some way of acquiring that knowledge...

"And in the begening, there was darkness," Quintero said, before depressing a small button on a small transmitter. Within seconds, the entire compound went dark. All the locks on the doors opened, and automated doors swung open. Seconds later, the locks clicked back on, doors closed, and emergency red lighting lined the hallways.

"Lead, this is five. We have control of electrics. Moving back, will clear on contact," Mike said, as his team began moving back towards the lab that was being used as an operations center.

However, not all was well. The other three person team now lay dead, shells from their rifles scattered around them. The silenced weapons let off no sound, and no one heard the battle. The Sanatation Team members had poured ammo into the approaching bodies, but the rounds slid through the corpses, and the three peson team became dinner. Soon, they two, would turn.

In the lab, the team lead looked at Harold. His voice was muffled slightly when he spoke, due to teh gas mask, and he kept his rifle trained on him. "You're being...sanatized, for removal from the facility. Some of you have been contaminated, and we need to cure you before letting you out."

Harold shrinks back further into his corner. "I'll do whatever you say, just don't hurt me..."

(ooc: god damnit! my bro arrived a couple of days ago and ive been chillin with him a lot, so i havent really gone on the net. sorry man. has my guy died yet? ill skim over the posts and get a general idea of the situation if he is alive.)

ooc: ah, ok, i should still be fine... didnt do that much in 3 pages, now did we?

ic: Lycinki looked around him... there had been darkness, then a low red light. He wasn't liking this, and was almost afraid for his life now. Not that he wasn't already, but now he was really, really afraid. He slowly drew his pistol and scanned the room he and 3 other representatives were in. He fastened his camera to his belt, still running, to tape everything. At least the military had taught him one thing: keep a cool head. Apparently some other representatives didn't have that privelage.

A man was huddling in the corner, moaning and holding his ears, eyes closed, and a woman was just staring at the light, unable to comprehend why she had been placed here.

Lycinki was too rash to care, and grabbed the other guy in the room, the only other one acting rationally, and took him through an open door...

Jack scanned the room when the red lights came back on. He knew that the doors had all unlocked for a short while there, and then relocked. He stepped up to a nearby door and tried it. It was locked.

The crunching noise scarred all that was good out of Quintero. Durring the blackout, somethign happened, and he had gotten seperated from the rest fo his team. He now looked down at his team mates corpses, open, and being ripped to shreads. He stared, not knowing what to do.

He ran. He ran past the room that his team was in, ignoring them. He ran past the corpses of his other three teammates. He ran right into the group of representatives. Instinctively, he brought the rifle up, squars on Lycinki. "Drop it!" he demanded. Seconds later, the other survivng memebers of his team moved around the corner, weapons raised.

"We've been looking for you," one of them said.

Jack looked at the men pointing guns at them. They didn't seem too friendly. Jack slowly set down his pipe, not wanting any trouble. But he was probably going to get trouble anyways.

Harold cowers in his corner, helpless. Damn this whole trip! When I get back, I'm telling my superiors never to buy anything from Umbrella Corp.

When the lights came back on the old man sighed in releif. It appears that no more creatures had desired to join him, but maybe the others weren't so lucky. He continued down the facilites corridor to the door at the end.

'Hey! We're on the same team here, I think! Point that gun away from me; save the bullets for the creatures you guys have made here!'
Even with this protest, Lycinki gave the gun to the operatives anyway, seeing as they had the heavy things.
'Do you want me to take away my camera too? cause that's MY property and not my government's!'

Zina watched nervously as the lights changed back and forth and the doors unlocked momentarily. Images of zombies rushing out of cells through open doors in levels deep below - or, even worse, somewhere on this level - filled her mind. Her bladder was filling with fear. She needed to find the toilets, but didn't dare wander off on her own. She walked back over to Sara.

"How's it coming with the computer? I... don't think we should stay in one place too long..."

Quintero took the gun from the man, and stuck it in a pouch on his vest. He then pressed a small button an a wrist mounted control pad, and spoke so that only the other members of the team could hear him. The room was quiet as he spoke to his team mates, until another person, dressed in an assault get up, fell into the room through the open door.

The thing stood up, lunged forward, and pulled off the gas mask, sinking it teeth into the leads neck. He didn't have a chance to scream as the rotted teeth ripped into his throat, pulling out the jugular.

Another came crasshing around the corner, and the group, still in total suprise had no chance to react as it to bit hard into one of the team members, bitting into her shoulder.

"Christ!" Quintero shouted, opening fire. An entire group of the creatures had formed in the hall, and was swarming towards the group. The crack of his rifle was almost defnining in teh small hallway, as he sent 6.7mm rounds of JHP rounds into the creatures. The now four man strong group was in no way able to hold up the fight. Mat's humane side took over, and he looked over at the group of representatives. "Get the f*ck outa here!" he shouted, letting go of his rifle and letting the sling catch it around his chest. He reached to his thigh and removed the 6in barreled .357 revolver, and let off two shots.

"Well, honestly, I'm running out of ideas." Sara stepped back from the terminal and sighed. "I didn't expect that to work anyway... the Alconian was right. The password's almost certainly a random sequence." She glanced around the remaining members of the group. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Hes right lets go,we are better off away from this sector"he said.He hided his Walther PPK and the knife in his coat pocket,he doesn't have much weapons and he doesn't want the Assualt Person,he needed his weapons.

He looked at a another door,he had no idea where it might have led,but theres no time to find out. He told the other representives"Over here!". He waited at the door for the other representives.

OOC: Is anything going to happen where Harold is? I can't do much alone, he's too much of a wuss to try to escape.

As the assault group came around the corner, rifles poised to fire, Ø ducked into a small office who's door hadn't quite closed before it locked. They dashed past her, oblivious. She looked down at the knife in her hand.

'These guys are not on our side, just like the Alconian said.' She thought, an idea forming in her mind.

She could probably use one of them as a hostage, and take their assault rifle. If she were lucky, she could slice her hostage's throat and open fire. Best case scenario, the assault team would be swiss cheese. Worst case, she'd take at least one or two down before the rest riddled her with bullets. She was still contemplating her options when some creature, dressed in the same outfit as the assault team, burst onto the scene and ripped into some poor sap's neck. She reeled back as blood spurted against the diamond doors.

"Oh, hell." She muttered.

Ø slammed the heavy door open, flattening one of the zombies' heads who was standing too close and toppling it to the floor with a smack. She jabbed the steel pipe through another's rotted skull, losing the weapon as it was torn from her hands with the zombie's fall. She swtiched the knife to her other hand and swiftly cut through one of the commandoes' rifle slings, dropping the knife and hefting the formidable weapon. She was about to turn and sprint after the others, leaving the commandoes to be slaughtered, but instead she considered that they had just saved all the others' lives and opened up into the nearest zombie's face.

OOC: Will post in about an hour or so

Srambling down the hall, Lysinki was dearly, dearly afraid for his life... God damnit! That spec ops guy didn't even throw me my f*cking gun!

Then, as blood splurted everwhere from several fresh 'things', Lysinki and the team of soldiers, along with a few scarred representatives, dashed towards a thinly open door, blood all over it.

I have a bad feeling about that door...

The door opened into a staircase...

The Sir Melvin saw the same opening, and everyone running as he pushed open the unlocked door...

Looking at the Zombies he lit and tossed one of his 'cocktails' lighting several of the creatures into pyres of burning dead flesh.

Quintero quickly holstered his revolver, and unslung his rifle, letting more rounds go before dashing downt he hall with the others. He saw a representative standing with the now dead or dying team, and he said a quick prayer as he tossed a grenade into teh group. "Fire in teh hole!" he shouted, before turning, and running into the stair well.

He slammed teh door closed as the grenade exploded, sending shrpanel whizzing by. He pulled his radio out of its pouch, and began trying to reach help.

OOC: Dammit... Fine, I'll free my own character by taking illegal control of your NPCs. I need to do something.

IC: A group of the undead menaces breaks noisily through the door and sets upon Harold's captors. Terrified, his survival instinct kicks in and he runs. He runs faster than he has ever run before, and when he trips and falls flat on his face (his hands are still cuffed) in a hallway littered with corpses, he doesn't even try to get up. All around him is silence, even the loud noises of the battle behind him had faded. He rolls over and stares at the ceiling, a trickle of blood coming from his smashed nose. He doesn't dare call out again, so he waits. After a few minutes pass he arms himself again with a pistol and a knife and sets off down the hallway, no less lost but much more cautious. It seems that something is awakening inside him, some long-forgotten will to survive. Slowly, his fears and doubts are fading. He has to find the other representatives, and he has to do it as quickly as possible. He knows that no one will survive long alone here. First thing's first, he needs to get his hands free.

OOC: Damn, I posted earlier but obviously my post never made it here...

IC:
Zina dashed down the staircase with the others, almost tripping, her heart thumping with fright. They went on running as the stairs reached a lower level, offering them a choice between a door or more stairs going down. Breathing hard, she looked at the others with fear-filled eyes.

"Did you get them? How many did you kill? Can they open the door? Where do we go now?"

She was so used to being in control of everything, her slightest whim obeyed unquestioningly; she felt utterly lost, and terrified. She was used to everyone else being afraid of her. For the first time in her life, she knew true fear.

Quintero through the radio down in anger. It wasn't working, not that it would a mile underground. He looked around at teh other representatives, and then back outside. The one from Xanthal was still there.

He risked movement, opened the door, and shouted to him. "Get your ass in here! Now!" He fired a few mroe rounds from the rifle into the zombies, before removing the magazine, and slamming a new one home, and flipping the catch.

He looked around, and at teh Yn ambasador. "Shut up! Stay calm, damnit." He reslung teh rifle, and pulled out the pistol he had taken earlier. He removed the magazine and the round from the chamber, and stuck it in his tacvest, the pistol chambered for the smae round as his automatic.

He held the door open for the Xanthalian, while at teh same time reloading his .357, and looking over the representatives with him. He had seen anotehr firearm earlier, and was trying te remeber who had held it.

Zina looked at Quintero, gulped and nodded. She didn't want to antagonise them, nor seem weak. But she did need their protection. She backed away from the door as much as possible - keeping her eyes fixed upon it - so that the other representatives' bodies would shield her.

After all, she reasoned, trying hard not to panick, they're just diplomats. I'm a head of state. I need to survive this...

Imitora: OOC: Huh? Harold hasn't been anywhere near the other representatives or Quintero for pages now.

IC: Harold checks every room he passes. Finally he comes upon an unlocked lab door. Spying a diamond precision lab circular saw, he knows what his next course must be. Awkwardly activating the saw with his cuffed hands, he spreads his wrists as far apart as they'll go and presses down on the blade, beginning to saw through his bonds.

The Alconian knight was actually climbing down the stairs now. He had decided that up was trouble, maybe down would reveal something...

When the zombies rushed them, Jack took the oppurtunity. He rolled out of towards an airduct, removed the grate and crawled in.

(Now he gets seperated.)

Sigma Octavus: OOC: Want to have Jack meet Harold?

When the Alconian continued down the stairs, Zina hesitated just a moment then followed him. It seemed sensible, after all. Down meant further away from the zombies.

Unless they had infested the entire complex...

In which case we're dead wherever we go.

She shivered, and hurried to catch up.

'Hey, soldier guy, can i have my gun now? Its not like it would help you, with your Auto rifle and your own pistol. So, can I have it back?'

They were standing in the stairwell and at the same time heard a low moaning from somewhere far below...

(Sure.)

The grate was slowly removed and pulled into the airduct. Jack's head popped out, and he quickly scanned the area for anything trying to kill him. Finding the area clear, he lowers himself into the hallway. He dusts himself off, and looks around for a replacement for the pipe he left behind.

He spied a janitor's bucket, and pulls out a mop. He snaps it across his knee, making one of the ends sharp. He hefted his makeshift spear, testing it's weight.

He walked to the end of the hallway and carefully looked around the corner. He saw nothing, and proceeded on.

Harold finishes freeing his hands, but doesn't dare attempt a full removal of his bonds. He exits the room with the two steel bracelets still locked firmly to his wrists... and runs straight in to Jack. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, he draws his pistol.

Jack raises his hands,"Whoa! Don't shoot!"

Harold sighs in relief, lowering the gun and placing it back in his belt. "Great Galaxy... Sorry, I'm not exactly standing on nerves of steel right now. I don't believe we've met. Harold. Harold Ross. I think I saw you at the airport. Are you a representative too?"

"Yeah, I am. Name's Jack Kennedy." Jack lowered his hands to his sides, his heart racing.

Harold holds out his hand. "Well, mom said that one day something would come along to make a man of me, and I'm beginning to think this is it. Not much chance of survival alone though. Partners?"

They were standing in the stairwell and at the same time heard a low moaning from somewhere far below...

Zin stopped short, paling, and grabbed the Alconian's shoulder, her fingers pressing hard against his flesh. A moan of fright escaped her lips, too, echoing the more sinister moans coming from deep below. Struggling to control her bladder as her fear rose several more notches, she felt a thin trail of liquid trickle down her leg...

"We can't go down there..." she gasped.

Zina's sudden stop nearly caused Sara to run into her, but she regained her balance and her composure and listened to the sounds coming from far below.

"It sounds like it's a long way away," she said nervously. "Maybe... maybe this next level's safe." This didn't seem at all likely to her, but since the level they'd just left definitely wasn't safe, down seemed to be their best bet.

(OOC: So in this group right now are Quintero, Zina, Sara, the Alconian, and the guy from Holy Saints, right?)

Sir Melvin looked up at everyone..."I'm afraid we are all likely going to die in this mess my dear. Especially because whatever disease causes this appears to be transmittable. So, either we stay in this chamber until somone decides that they will just toss a plasma thermite warhead down here to clean out the zombies, or we find someway out of these facilites."

As the grenade exploded less than a meter from Ø, she felt herself being carried into a cubicle wall by the concussion wave. The flimsy thing toppled around her, and she scrambled upwards, feeling a shot of pain bolt through her left arm in two places, and her left flank in two more. Ignoring it for now, she looked over at the zombies. For the most part, they had been merely knocked down, some with injuries. One had been totally shredded, but was still writhing with life. Ø shuddered, and decided to run before it got up, or the dead commandoes decided to say hello in a most unpleasant way. She yanked a rifle magazine she found from a commando's belt, and scampered over to her fallen knife, picking it up. A devilish moan from behind her signalled it was time to go. She followed the path she thought the surviving soldier had taken, along with the rest of the diplomats and stumbled into a door. Ø practically fell through it and slammed it loudly behind her, to find the stairs. She looked upwards, and then downwards. Which way to go? A moan emminated from the upper levels.

'Down it is.' She thought, and started stepping downwards.

((She's a long ways back from you, to let you know.))

Antony Feyen had been running in a panic for quite sometime (first time they saw a zombie), sprinting down twisty turny hallways till now, he had to rest. Slumping down a wall he sits to catch his breath. Noticing himself still grasping the brief case he relaxes his death grip upon it. Listening intently in the distance he hears struggles, but he can't place them. To far away, he though. After a bit he stands up and decides maybe he should try to find the group before more creatures found him.

Grasping his steel-aluminum brief case as a weapon he slowly prowls back down the halls towards the strife.

(OOC: sorry, got confused in the order of things so I back!)

"All right, all right, let's try this level," Zina said, trying to stay calm. "We can't go up, we can't go down..." She closed her eyes a moment, fighting down a wave of panic. "This level it is..."

Jack held shook the offered hand. "Sure. We might get out of here if we work together."

Harold nods, and looks down the hallway. "Where are the others?"

"I don't know. We encountered some militant types, and then those creatures attacked. I slipped out through the ventilation."

"Mmm. I was afraid of that. I've got a rather interesting story of my own, but it can't help to waste any more time here. Let's move out. I think our first priority should be to find some kind of map of the facility, or at least a floor plan. We need something to get our bearings, then hopefully we can make it out of here. Agreed?"

OOC: Wow. Harold matured fast. Well, we'll see how things develop.

"Sure. Unfortunately, I lost track of where I was when I went through the ducts."

Jack looked around the hall. "I guess we should start looking."

Harold nods. "Do you have a firearm?"

"No, I've just got a broken mop." He held up the mop, realizing how useless it actually was. "If those soldiers died, they would have weapons. There also weren't enough for a full squad, so there are others around."

"I got this off a dead soldier. Here, take it." He offers Jack his pistol. "I don't know how to use it anyway."

Jack takes the pistol, checks the chamber for a round, and checks the clip. "Thanks. I've had some training in using guns."

Lycinki took one last look through the door, sighed, thinking that they were getting farther away from life. He ran down the stairs to join the other diplomats and the Imitoran soldier. He still had a lingering thought in the back of his head; whether this was destiny or just one f*cked up mess.

*Note: each staircase only descends a single level

IC:

Quintero looked at Lycinki. "No. I need the ammo, and I have a better chance surviving down here than you do. Now everyone, listen. This place is a maze. It brings out the real deffinition of a complex. The chances of us getting out of here alive are pretty small, but still there. I know my way out, but were gonna hafta fight out. Those things are all over the facility. All eight levels. The only way out is to get to the lower level where the emergency access and frieght elevator is."

He stopped, and checked his rifle, then looked at the door below him. "Four levels are full labs, the rest are maze like hallways. So to get out, your all gonna need to follwo me, ok?"

Harold grins, starting off down the hallway at a quick walk. "I'll go first, you cover me. I haven't seen or heard anything except you for a few minutes now, but that may not mean much."

Ø reached the bottom of the stairs, and ran into the others discussing their course of action. She quickly raised the assault rifle over her head to show she had no hostilities -- after all, who knew which one of these punks had an itchy trigger finger -- and listened.

"It's always down, isn't it?" She smirked. "I'll cover you too. Now move, I heard something above us."

Sara didn't have to be told twice. She was more than happy to get moving, if only to put some distance between her and the woman with the assault rifle who was probably as nervous as Sara was. Nervous people and automatic weapons aren't a great combination. Though now that I think of it, I could use a weapon of some sort myself. I wonder if there are any scientists' quarters on this level...

'Hey! Quintero, since you know the plans for this place, are there any weapons lockers for pistols and such? I would bet that the scientists would need more than a tranquilizer gun to take down some of their... 'experiments'.'

Sir Melvin almost laughed at the Imortian's boast. What was it that the Imortian's say...

Your Diplomatic Immunity is the largest calibre bullet your vest will stop... Of course the Alconian Marine response to that was...

...Shoot for the head...

OOC: A&H...your Marine has to survive the multifragmentational rail assisted round to the chest, first.

IC:

Quintero rubbed his face. "You," he said, pointing at 0, "drop it. I ain't goin anywhere till you loose the weapon."

He then looked at Lycinki. "You don't get it, do ya? I mean, teh signs are here, but your just not adding them up? There never were any scientists, and never were going to be. Its a test to see how well somethign that Umbrella was working on can be transmitted or somethign, I don't know, and I don't care. We were sent down here to clean up a mess that someone here started by pulling a gun."

He pulled a canteen from his vest, and took a swig of water before puting it back. "There are no weapons caches. No secret armories. No supre weapons that we can use to blast our way outa here. This place was never meant to have any workers at all. Its a test facility where Umbrella sees how well its projects, like those," he pointed out to the door, "do."

OOC: A&H...your Marine has to survive the multifragmentational rail assisted round to the chest, first.

IC:

Quintero rubbed his face. "You," he said, pointing at 0, "drop it. I ain't goin anywhere till you loose the weapon."

He then looked at Lycinki. "You don't get it, do ya? I mean, teh signs are here, but your just not adding them up? There never were any scientists, and never were going to be. Its a test to see how well somethign that Umbrella was working on can be transmitted or somethign, I don't know, and I don't care. We were sent down here to clean up a mess that someone here started by pulling a gun."

He pulled a canteen from his vest, and took a swig of water before puting it back. "There are no weapons caches. No secret armories. No supre weapons that we can use to blast our way outa here. This place was never meant to have any workers at all. Its a test facility where Umbrella sees how well its projects, like those," he pointed out to the door, "do."

OOC: New Rule for the Klatch...when dealing with an Imortian...bring a Var.

'You're sh*tting me, right? Are all these 'things' other past experiments? Well... if they are, you guys were supposed to die too. You weren't sent as cleanup, just as more subjects of the experiment.'

'Now that i got that off my head... Where are the next stairs?'

Quintero shook his head. "No, we were ordered in to clean up the mess. Its part of a Biohazard Unit. There's the UBCS, who do the nasty stuff, and the Sanatation Teams, who do the less nasty stuff. Kinda like a rescue unit, ya know, pull your asses out after we had the proof that we needed that the tests would work."

Sir Melvin laughed..."You had no intention of pulling us out of this test. No, we'd just be disposed of with the remains of those corpses you sent down here. Now then...take point if you wish...and we'll follow allowing you a nice group of decoys when you need them."

"Old man, if we wanted you dead, we could have just gassed the facility, no biggy," Quintero hissed, looking him in the eye.

Sir Melvin just looked back. He wasn't scared of this kid, hell this kid was him at about age 28 before life decided to throw a few curves his way. Big mean nasty curves actually.

He finnally says..."Are we standing gawking or are we going to get moving? I need to get my daily fix of Ensure don't I?"

"Alright punk, you've made your point." Ø said with a glare at Quintero. "No way in hell am I giving up any kind of weapon, when there's a bunch of things crawling around that haven't eaten in a while. That'd just be stupid, and I'm not stupid."

"Just let her keep the weapon and let's talk while we're moving!" Zina cut in. "Please! Or do you plan on arguing till we die?"

"I don't know what your talking about," Quintero replied, "but I don't plan on dying, not by this bitch shooting me in the back becuase she might not like the way I handle things."

He looked back at 0, and this time, with his rifle raised, and leveled at her chest, repeated, "Put down the rifle, or I'm not going anywhere."

Jack moved in behind Harold, pistol at the ready. They might actually get out of here alive. He smiled at the thought.

After a short time, the pair comes upon a pile of dead bodies. They seem to be mostly scientists, but a few guards can be spotted in the mess of gore. Harold stifles an urge to vomit at the sight of the torn and mangled bodies before him. He smiles weakly. "That must have hurt..."

"You ignorant son of a bitch." Ø growled. "I'm not going to die just because some paranoid idiot forced me to put down the little protection I have in this hellhole. I can assure you I'm a lot more stable than. In fact, I believe you've got the best plan of this bunch, and I'm going to follow it. Now why would I shoot you if you're the one who's getting us out of here? You've seen the plans, you've got the military training, and you've got the will to live, like I do." She put the safety on the rifle and took out the magazine with a sharp click. "If I snap this back in and try to shoot you in the back, you'll have more than enough time to kill me. I'm just a diplomat."

"Listen, I've got nothing against paranoia," Zina said through clenched teeth. "But right now it's likely to get us all killed! So let's get moving!"

The Umbrella Corporation was one of the big three in Imitora, the big three being the three largest corporations in Imitora. The other two, Weyland-Yutani Heavy Industries and Shinseki Aerospace, however, did not have the, clout, so to say, as Umbrella. WYC, as Weyalnd-Yutani was known, and Shinseki had simple military markets, with little influence at all anywhere else.

Umbrella, on the other hand, produced just about everything. In the public sector, they put out medical goods, computer technology, clothing, appliances, electronic goods, and the like. For the government, they produced some of the top of the line computer programs and computer technology.

And for the military, it produced small arms, equipment, clothing, and a few vehicles, but most of that market was taken by WYC. However, they also secretly, as everything of a less than loved nature was secret, produced bioweapons, chemical weapons, and worked hand in hand with WYC to produce plasmayield warheads.

However, outside Imitora, this powerhouse was little known. They had found no need to market their goods anywhere else, and the government never forced them to sell outside the borderds.

CEO Marrisa Jenks, however, had decided that no was just a good a time as any to show off what could be produced, and what Umbrella was really capable of. It wasn't long before the many governements of the world recieved the off white envalope with the Umbrella emblem printed on the front.

The letter was elegently writtenm, and extended a hand of invitation to the leaders of the world, or should they chose to send an ambasador, to attend a small, informal gala of sorts that would show off the companies many products.

It would be held at the newest production plant in Gremsdale, in the mountains of centeral Imitora. The area never got a temperature above three degrees (farinheit), and was always surounded by snow and ice.

A company representative stationed there was, for the first time, glad that he was, so that he could officially offer the meet and great, and do his job. He flew aboard an Umbrella made CV-22I to Northmapton Intl., where he waited at a private terminal for the representatives to show up.

ooc: sorry guys, forums been a bitch for the past few days... well, on to rp.

ic: "Lets get going then! Quintero, guide the way, and if any more of those fucking monsters attack and kill one of us im layin it on you weapons boy."

I had a really pimp post, then the forums ate it, so I'll have a better one later tongiht.