Resident Evil - Z-Day + 5

[poignant]

-The past couple of days had seen Commander Grimm filing report after report. The situation was grim. The outcome wasn’t very good. Outbreaks have been reported around the world. The plans had shifted from containment to moving essential personnel to key locations around the United States in an attempt to ride out the T-Virus apocalypse. The Government remained in place, issuing orders from secret hidden vaults, with a population that could care less and soldiers deserting at higher and higher numbers.

Luckily Grimm had allowed the men who weren’t single to bring aboard their families. After all, there was more than enough on the sprawling carrier and it provided a more relaxed atmosphere. They had not been able to grab as many survivors as they had hoped. Command was disappointed, but had given the approval to go ahead with further attempts at infiltrating the Umbrella corporate offices.

Again Grimm would have to report failure. The main office building for Umbrella was a cover. The real facility must still be located in the city, but they had been unable to ascertain just where it was located. There was one promising report from intelligence that suggested whatever Umbrella personnel where left in New York would be evacuated prior to the bombs being dropped. While naval traffic was still too intense, there were only two ways off the island. Air or sea, air they had covered by patrols and the military had effectively blockaded New York City.

Plans had already been set in motion by Command and Grimm himself. The harbor was the likely exit strategy for any remaining Umbrella employees. Making that the place of attack – making sure the file was encrypted, he carefully saved it and stored the laptop within a personal lockbox. Moving about the luxurious quarters provided him; he waited for Robert to join him.

Grimm had not seen Robert since the day he had been brought in. They entered the scanner separately and Grimm had waited for him on the other side. Robert had been issued standard utilities to wear while his clothing was washed. The weapons would be returned to him with a strict warning to never, under any circumstance unless instructed otherwise to fire upon anybody. The sanitation and cleaning would be thorough and probably shave a layer or two of skin of a man’s body, but that was to be expected during times like these.

While strictly speaking this was not a military operation, military personnel patrolled the corridors, maintained the ship and aircraft and generally kept itself separate from the rest of the crew. Robert would be confined to solitary for one day, to be a buffer to the rest of the crew. Grimm had gone down to see him, but Robert had been sleeping. Grimm was never one to pay much attention to the time, only sleeping four hours on average. An old habit that gave him a rotating schedule that hardly anyone, even Grimm, could anticipate which he felt gave him the advantage when reports from Command and Intel surfaced on his desk.

Now that Robert had been given his clothes and his own cabin, Grimm had sent for him to have dinner in his cabin at this hour. Watching the clock tick the final seconds away from their meeting time, he began looking over the pictures scattered about the walls. Normally they would be bare. As grim as his namesake, but his secretary had decided in his infinite wisdom to place the pictures of him standing in a field of grass, white capped mountains filling the background, he had his arm around two weathered men. Each as sorely beaten as him, they wore their black tactical vests, camouflaged fatigues. But most important of all was the man kneeling before them.

Most wouldn’t recognize the face, not because he wasn’t well known, but because the face was obscured by a sack that had been placed over his head. Still it brought a grin to the old man’s scarred visage. Those where the simple days, when it all came down from on high, the objective a simple snatch and grab for questioning or worse. What had they done with him? All the pictures seemed to be the same, just a different background. Same mysterious gentlemen with him, Grimm continued to wait, lost for the moment in his reverie.-

[quinn]

The men in the biohazard suits took Robert inside down a series of corridors and "ladders". He removed his clothing, which was taken away from him, to be burned he was told. The tatters of the suit and his loafers weren't much, and they had equal amounts of dirt, oil stains and blood mixed in. There was a substantial amount of tears throughout the clothing, and he bemoaned the loss of money in the suit more than anything. The makeshift combat rig made from tied rags was also burned, although that didn't bother Robert so much.

The initial scanner said that he was clean, although the Science team did not want to take a chance with someone who had direct contact with the Infected, and he was whisked away. He looked at Grimm as he was taken away into the clean area of the ship.

The "cleansing" afterwards was NOT what Robert was used to, even by Army standards. First was the regular shower, where the gray water was pumped into a standalone tank. Following that was the chemical shower, where he stood in cold water for over an hour. His skin was numb at that point and he was visibly shivering, glaring at his CDC-suited companions for his treatment. As if the indignity was not enough, his head was shaved to a short cut that hailed back to his Army days. The hair was taken away in a container for testing.

Following such, he was subject to a chemical spray that made his skin feel even colder if that was possible. He was then put into containment for a full thirty-six hours to determine that he was not exposed to the T-virus. A food tray was cycled into the cell every six hours like clockwork, the food itself from the carrier's mess hall. The subsequent trays and utensils were removed to be destroyed.

At the end of those thirty-six hours, Robert was released from the cell and interviewed by the head of the science team that the results were negative for any indication of the T-virus. The Captain of the ship welcomed Robert aboard, and upon learning that Robert was an Army veteran, who just happened to be a former helicopter pilot at that, welcomed him with a Lieutenant's quarters, although he did have to share with one of the Harrier pilots.

Robert opened the drawers that were given to him, finding a set of black BDUs that sort of fit, along with boots that were only slightly bigger than his feet, but he put on a few more socks to fit better. The Armory had seen fit to return his weapons, although they'd included a web belt, holster and a combat harness. Robert picked up the Samurai Edge he'd been loaned, loaded a magazine into the weapon, but did not chamber a round. He put it into the holster and strapped the web belt around his waist. The weight of the handgun was like the presence of an old friend.

He looked himself over in the mirror and scowled at the reflection he saw. Stubble covered his face and his skin had a reddish tinge all over, irritation from the chemical spray. His hair was still short from the shearing he had been given. He was about to walk out to find the showers when a Petty Officer knocked on his door and informed him that Commander Grimm wished to dine with him.

Still irritable, Robert went along with the Petty Officer, and knocked on Commander Grimm's door.

[poignant]

“Come in.”

The door would swing open, the officer having done the honors and once Robert had stepped in would shut it with a click. Commander Grimm was standing in between two couches that looked well out of place in the sea of gray. Motioning to one of them, Grimm took a seat, relaxing immediately. “Sorry about the hair and the clothes – though judging by the state of them when we found you, you don’t feel bad about losing them.”

Shifting a leg over his knee, he studied Robert for a few moments. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he stood up and pointed at the bar. “Something to drink? I’m a bourbon man myself.” Stepping towards the wet bar, he took two glasses from beneath the counter, filling one with ice and removing a bottle of bourbon from a cabinet above.

The golden brown liquid sloshed over the ice cubes as it was poured. Taking it in his hands after setting the bottle down, he ran the glass just beneath his nose and savored the smell, turning to wait for Robert, he set the glass down on the counter.-

[quinn]

Robert shrugged. "I blame the zeds for my the loss of my Armani." he said to the older officer. Now that he was back in a military uniform, his old habits settled in. His shoulder posture screamed West Point, but his casual stance, especially his right hand never too far from his sidearm, indicated that he'd been in a combat zone or was just a wary individual. He shook his head at the offer for a drink.

He wanted to immediately ask what the next step was, but that would be at least a rude question, even worse to the man who had in fact saved him. So he stood there, and waited for the Commander to make the first move.

[poignant]

-Somehow Grimm knew the man wouldn’t take the drink when offered. Grimm’s posture was more that of a sly cat. A grace and ease to each movement that spoke volumes of the man. Leaving the bourbon out for the moment, he seated himself across from Robert, taking a sip before setting it down on the table before them.

“How are you doing otherwise? Fitting in?”

Grimm wasn’t lost on the way the man looked just right in his uniform. The wariness of his movements belied years of combat experience. Grimm could respect a man like that and even more importantly, needed a man with Robert’s ingenuity. While it wasn’t hard to rig a place with explosives, it was the thought that struck Grimm as creative.

They had gone through a hundred buildings seeking out survivors and not a one of them had the foresight to booby trap the interior. If they had, it might of saved their lives.-

[quinn]

"Haven't had much of a chance to do a meet and greet." Robert responded, easing down into a couch after Grimm had done so. He was a much more relaxed personality, so the usual protocol didn't apply in this case. Then he remembered that Grimm was a member of S.T.A.R.S. which was a "civilian" organization. Para-military was more their style.

He leaned back in the couch, his arms coming up to rest on the back. He sighed in contentment as he did so. He hadn't had much comfort in the past week. "Actually getting a bed to sleep in is nice, even if it is on a Navy ship." he tossed a jibe at the Navy, which ID'd him as either Air Force or Army.

[poignant]

-It was good to see Robert relaxed and at ease. The processing had been grueling and while Grimm hadn’t told Robert, most didn’t make it. Their bodies would be used for scientific purposes, and those still alive would be placed under observation. While some might consider it cruel, Grimm considered it necessary. They would have their chance to get back at those who had afflicted them.

The jibe wasn’t missed and if Grimm had to guess, he would guess Air Force. As for why, he couldn’t quite say. Nodding towards Robert, he reached forward and took another sip. A warm bed could be appreciated; Grimm had been on enough excursions to understand that.

“I’m sure you will fit in just fine.” Dinner wouldn’t arrive until this talk was over; as Grimm didn’t think it right to discuss business over food, or politics for that matter. “I’m thinking we will need to arrange a meet and greet. I’d like you to head up a team. Granted I don’t know as much as I’d like to know, I know you aren’t Umbrella and I know you can improvise on your feet. Can you give me any reason I shouldn’t trust you?” Grimm was lying, but it was Grimm’s job to lie so he never gave it away. In that lockbox was a dossier on one Robert Dunn.-

[quinn]

Robert looked up at Grimm when he suggested that he head up one of the teams with a look that suggested incredulity. He leaned forward and met Grimm's eyes.

"How about we start with that I'm just some civilian you pulled out of a hotel with no experience in ground combat save for running from zeds for three day?" Robert counted one finger off. "And continue with that I have no leadership experience beyond my time as a chopper pilot in the Army, and finish with that the troops under your command would most likely get the wrong idea about me being in the unit."

[poignant]

-Grimm nodded to each strike against the man’s desire to head up Bravo. The man was absolutely right. He had very little command experience, was now a civilian and didn’t really appear to be the right man for the job. However, Grimm had a saying, never put a man in charge who wants to be in charge, but rather the guy who will tell you all the good reasons he won’t make a good leader. Grimm had never been one for a desk job or suited for command beyond the small operations he had done.

It had taken a fair deal of adjustment to get behind the idea of being fed intelligence from other sources, when in the old days he had been the one gathering it. Still that creative spark shown back at the hotel, said this man was practical, could think his way out of a problem with an ease that would put most men to shame.

Using his glass to hide his grin, he shook his head after taking a long sip of bourbon. “We aren’t exactly military here – “looking around, he couldn’t help but find the hypocrisy in his statement. “Well not all of us anyway. The men and women will see what I see. “Leaning forward he set the glass down again, elbows on his knees.

“The team I want you to lead will be in direct support of my team and will head up rescue operations. Leave the ground combat to me – I just want you to support with the creativity you showed back at the hotel.” Pausing, he looked directly into Robert’s eyes. What would it be? “We need people who can improvise on the run and think beyond their nose. Can you do that Mr. Dunn?”

[quinn]

Robert sat back and considered the offer for a moment. It sounded more like he was to be there in a supporting role, tossing out ideas as he had them. He could do that, and the chain of command seemed to be a lot more relaxed than the military. After a few moments, he nodded.

"I'll take the job then. Besides, Morgan and Stanley went out of business, so could do with something these days." he looked directly back at Grimm. "And I owe those zeds the bill for my Armani. What's the next mission then, and when do I get to speak with my unit?" he asked.

[poignant]

-Somehow Grimm knew Robert would accept his offer. Leaning back, arms falling to either side, the man gave a grim nod. “All you need to know Robert will be found back at your room. You’ll be given access to our database and files made available to you on the makeup of your Team, Bravo Team that is. Any other questions you might have bring them to me and I’ll answer them.”

Reaching forward to snatch his glass, he took another sip, relishing in the brusque warmth of the smooth liquid as it cascaded down his throat. Taking it back with him as he leaned back, “As for your over all mission, it will be support as I stated. Tomorrow we will be making a strike against the Umbrella Corporation. I won’t need your direct assistance, but I will need you on hand here at the carrier. If things should go wrong out there, I will need you to airlift any survivors before the military cleans the area.”

Knowing there would be further questions he paused and was quite pleased to find none. “Before you leave I will present you with the plan of attack so you at least have an idea of what is happening.” There was a knock at the door signaling the arrival of dinner. “Ah supper has arrived. Please, dine with me, “He stood and proffered an arm towards the dining room. The arm fell as the door came open. Two aides overburdened with trays came in. Before Robert left after the dinner, Grimm presented him with photos of the harbor, the ferry and the plan of attack as well as the overall objective of the mission.

“Get caught up and introduced as soon as you can Robert. You can have your former rank if you wish, but it won’t make a bit of difference here. For now, we’ll just call you Team Captain Dunn or Captain Dunn for short. Whichever you prefer, see you tomorrow.”

[quinn]

Robert nodded as Grimm explained his role and the role of his squad in tomorrow's operation. They would be backup with a few helicopters standing by in case civilians needed to be airlifted out. Also, standing by in case an emergency evacuation was needed for the primary and secondary teams.

Then the meal arrived, and Robert realized how hungry he was, having lived for the past five days off of whatever he could find and the ship's store of MREs. The meal itself was a quiet affair, the two men taking what enjoyment they could from the relative quiet. There was a scream of turbines as a Harrier fighter came in for landing, and the occasional beating thuds of helicopter blades. It was a good reminder that they were safe for the time being.

After the dinner, Grimm gave Robert a manila folder containing pictures of the harbor and a plan for the initial plan of attack. He gave it an initial scan and didn't find anything immediately glaring out at him. It was a daring raid to be sure, and called for a Harrier attack fighter to be loitering fifteen miles out in case someone brought Surface to Air Missiles to the party. Robert nodded. As a former Apache pilot, he was always getting thanks from ground forces from his close air support.

He nodded his goodnight to the Commander and left after a handshake. Walking back to his cabin, he thought about the changes that had come over his life recently. None of it made sense, but he could only ride along with the wave or be sucked under.

Sitting inside the cabin he shared with a pilot, who was currently snoring away on his bunk, Robert read over the mission plan, marking notes and potential questions on a notepad. He attached a note to the plan concerning alternate landing zones big enough to land a Sea Knight and possible avenues for aerial attack, in case the Harrier couldn't support the ground team effectively. Each of the Sea Knights mounted a pair of Mk. 19 automatic grenade launchers, and an M2HB .50 caliber machine gun on the rear ramp, making them highly effective retrieval aircraft (provided the landing zone was big enough) and moderate air support. They would do in a pinch, although the insertion teams would use the UH-1 Hueys for their manuverability and speed.

He sent the mission plan back to Grimm with his note attached that was covered with suggestions. Then, in the early hours of the morning, he crawled into his bunk, set his sidearm underneath his pillow and fell asleep.