Resident Evil Legends Part Four: Calm Before The Storm

By Andreas Leachim

Based on the Resident Evil video game series by Capcom. Jill Valentine and the rest of the surviving S.T.A.R.S. team members return to Raccoon City after their harrowing ordeal at the Arklay mansion, only to find that they cannot reveal the truth about what happened. No one would ever believe them, but the death of so many of their coworkers draws them into a scandal that rocks the entire city. Umbrella has finally come to investigate the Arklay lab, and they discover the outbreak. They begin damage control, bringing in BCF soldiers to prepare for the inevitable outbreak in Raccoon City itself. A black ops commando code-named Hunk is sent to evacuate the Raccoon City lab, where he meets William Birkin and sets in motion a devastating chain of events. Meanwhile, a mysterious secret agent named Ada Wong arrives in Raccoon City as well. And Albert Wesker, still alive and manipulating things behind the scenes, remains in Raccoon City to clean up some loose ends before the T-virus infection reaches the city. Using a new variant of the Progenitor, he creates a new creature called the Nemesis ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andreas Leachim
• Release date: Apr 25, 2016

Andreas Leachim

Andreas Leachim is seven feet tall and has six fingers on each hand. He speaks 22 languages. He won the Academy Award for Best Picture, the Nobel Prize in Chemistry, and the Cy Young Award all in the same year. He once climbed Mount Everest while juggling a pair of flaming chainsaws. He is allergic to other human beings.

Book preview

Resident Evil Legends Part Four: Calm Before the Storm

By Andreas Leachim

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2016 Andreas Leachim

Cover art and design by Andreas Leachim

This is a work of fan fiction based on the Resident Evil video game series. All characters and names and related trademarks are the property of Capcom. The author of this work receives no financial compensation from it and does not seek to infringe upon Capcom’s copyrights in any way.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, Brian Irons had been a good police officer. During the span of his impressive thirty-year career in the Raccoon City Police Department, he had done just about everything there is for a police officer to do. He started out as a rookie doing routine traffic stops and quickly climbed the ranks, serving on the city’s original S.W.A.T. team and then spending several years as a detective investigating murders and other violent crimes. He was well-liked among his fellow officers, received several awards and medals for exemplary service, and seemed destined for a long career in upper command. By the time he had reached the rank of Captain, he was a highly influential member of the force.

Looking back on it, those early years right before he became Captain were probably the best years of his life. He had still been enthusiastic about the work back then, not yet worn down by the stresses of administrative work, not yet jaded by the realities of upper-level management. He still had dreams and goals back then.

He and his former partner and longtime friend Barry Burton instituted the first incarnation of the S.T.A.R.S. team in Raccoon City. Although Irons never actually served on the team due to his other duties as Captain, he oversaw its creation and over the years used his influence in the department to increase its funding. And when he was finally promoted to the position of Chief of Police, the S.T.A.R.S. team became his main priority. He always felt a personal amount of pride at how the unit grew and developed over the years.

Under Irons’ excellent leadership, the RCPD became a shining example of law enforcement in the region. They experienced tremendous growth and prosperity, an exponentially increased budget, more men on the force, more advanced equipment, and most importantly, a nearly flawless record with the people of Raccoon City. Some cities constantly dealt with corruption in the police force, but the RCPD managed to keep itself above common problems such as police brutality and corruption, working to become a model police force for other cities to emulate. The department actually set a record for the fewest number of internal investigations and formal complaints. Morale was high, public approval ratings were through the roof, and the S.T.A.R.S. teams became nationally known.

Of course, Irons’ personal life was less successful. He always had an affection for gambling, whether he liked to admit it or not, and his collection of artwork and sculpture, while impressive, put him into rather serious debt. His first wife divorced him long ago, and he never managed to recover any semblance of a healthy social life after she left. His entire life became one of extremes: the exceptional success of his professional career, and the pathetic depths of his personal life. He spent all his time at the station, so much that his office became his real home. He received some slight satisfaction in the knowledge that his legacy was assured, and his art collection gave him some sense of personal accomplishment, but other than those few distractions, his life was rather empty.

But at least he still had his honor. Once upon a time, Brian Irons had been a good police officer. And then one fateful day, a mysterious man named Albert Wesker walked into his office and destroyed it all.

As he looked back on it now, Irons realized that he was easy pickings for Wesker and Umbrella in general. Deep in debt, doubting his own personal worth, he allowed the manipulative Wesker to completely take advantage of him. He accepted the money and just let it happen. He just handed over responsibility without a fight. He traded in his dignity, his self-respect, and for what?

Money? Is that what they’d given him? Is that all?

Irons sat at his desk and looked up at the wall. Secured in a glass case were dozens of the medals and awards he had received over the years. Shiny gold pins with red and blue ribbons lined the case, but to Irons they looked like dead butterfly specimens in the office of an entomologist. Even inside the case, they accumulated a thin layer of dust over the years, like abandoned graves. Next to the case were framed pictures of Irons throughout his career, from the picture of his graduating class at the Academy, to the framed newspaper article about his promotion to Chief.

The Brian Irons in those pictures and photographs, the Brian Irons who was awarded those medals, the Brian Irons that he used to be, no longer existed. All that remained was a hollow shell that Umbrella poured money into.

What did Umbrella really give him in return for his compliance in their illegal activities? It wasn’t just money. They offered him an escape from the overwhelming stress of his job. They gave him freedom from responsibility, freedom from consequence. From the moment he accepted that first envelope full of money, he stopped truly being the Chief of Police. After that day, Umbrella was the real commander of the police force, and Irons was just a figurehead. From then on, Irons was not the one making the decisions, he was just the messenger. He accepted their dirty money in return for a life free from responsibility.

He closed his eyes. He wanted to be free from the weight of his office, free from the constant stress of decision, free to enjoy the success he achieved in his long career. He only wanted some of the pressure on his shoulders to lighten up. Umbrella did all of that, and more. And Irons soon discovered that all the responsibility they took away soon became replaced with guilt and self-hatred, which was so much worse.

The radio intercom on his desk buzzed loudly, waking him from his reverie. He knew what was going on before the voice of the guard on the roof came through the speaker.

Chief Irons, the Alpha helicopter just returned.

Irons pressed the button and said quietly, Who’s in the helicopter?

After a short pause, the guard said, Redfield, Valentine, Vickers, and the new girl from Bravo, I can’t remember her name.

Irons’ tongue felt dry in his mouth, and his voice came out like a forced whisper. Tell them to come to my office immediately. They are to speak to no one else but me, understand?

Okay. Yes, sir, the guard said, a million conflicting emotions evident in his voice.

Irons reached for the button once more, but hesitated, his finger hovering over it uncertainly. He gave in and rested his hand on the desktop. He had no doubts that his orders would be followed, but he could not help but wonder what was going through that officer’s head right now. What everyone in the entire department must be thinking.

Bravo team had been missing for more than thirty hours with no communication. And now Alpha team had been gone for almost seven hours, only to return with half their number. Irons felt lucky that it was so late. Few officers remained in the station at this time of night. But he knew that as soon as the morning shift came in, the news would spread like wildfire, and Irons had to stop the flow of information right now, before it ever got started.

There was no knock on the door. It just flew open with a bang and Chris Redfield charged into the office. Irons tried not to blanch at the sight of him. Chris was still smeared with blood all across his arms and chest, and his face was contorted into a mask of anger and desperation. Somehow, he looked exactly like Irons imagined he would look, even though Irons had no idea where Alpha team had been or what they had faced.

I want you to tell me right now what’s going on! Chris screamed, storming right up to Irons’ desk and stabbing a finger at him. Right now! Just what the hell did you get us into! Tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about! I dare you!

Sit down, Chris, Irons said.

Go to hell! You sent us there! You lied to us! You don’t have authority over me anymore, you son of a bitch! Tell me what’s going on or I swear to God I’m going to rip the truth right out of you!

Suddenly, Jill Valentine was there, pulling Chris away from the desk. Rebecca Chambers was there as well, helping her. Chris struggled against them, but they managed to pull him back. Beyond them, Irons could see Brad Vickers standing helplessly in the doorway, completely confused and unsure what he could do. As Jill managed to get Chris to sit down despite his arguments, Irons spoke loudly enough for Brad to hear him.

Close the door, Brad. Lock it.

Brad quickly did so, apparently glad to have something to do. He shut the door and swiftly slid the deadbolt into place.

Sit down, all of you, Irons said.

Rebecca shook her head and went up to the desk, waving her hands excitedly. You’re not going to believe us, she said pleadingly. What happened to us, everything that we went through, you just have to listen –

We’re not telling you anything until you give us some goddamn answers! Chris shouted, Jill still holding onto his arm. He finally gave in and flopped down into one of the leather chairs. Jill sat down beside him, hands remaining on his arm as if to hold him down.

Irons looked at Rebecca. Please sit down. Tell me everything.

At once, they all started talking, their voices coming at him like a tidal wave. He sat impassively and tried to understand everything, tried to take it all in. Rebecca’s plaintive requests that he believe her, Chris’ angry accusations and horrific descriptions of what they went through, Jill’s fearful explanations and nervous details. Irons only heard a fraction of what they said, with their voices all coming at him at once, but it was more than enough to verify the absolute worst he had imagined.

And of course, Wesker’s name came up often. Whatever plans Wesker had concocted must have failed, because Irons sincerely doubted that Wesker intended for anyone from the S.T.A.R.S. teams to make it back here to incriminate him.

The details that spilled out made his skin crawl. Rebecca’s terrifying story of a train full of undead people, Jill’s insane description of a mad woman with chains around her wrists, and most of all, Chris’ violent retelling of their final moments before the helicopter arrived. Hideous descriptions of death and horror, of the monsters that lurked in the underground corridors of the Umbrella laboratory. They told him everything in bloody detail, so much information that it made his stomach churn.

Brad tried to get a word in here and there, but the rest of their voices drowned his out completely. He looked shocked and disgusted, and Irons realized that he was hearing the story for the first time as well.

And everyone else is dead! Chris shouted. Jill winced as if in pain as he said it, and Rebecca and Brad could only look away. They’re all dead! They were killed in that hellhole you sent us to! Joe, and Ken, and Forrest, and everyone else! Barry’s dead, and it’s all your goddamn fault!

Somehow, that struck a nerve. Irons snapped back, You shut your mouth, Chris. I’ve known Barry Burton longer than you have. He was my best friend long before you ever met him.

Chris rocked back in his chair, the anger and hatred never leaving his eyes, but for the moment he remained speechless. In the few moments of sudden silence, Jill finally said in a tired voice, Chief, just tell us that you didn’t know about it. Please tell me that you didn’t know about what was happening there.

Irons very quickly made up his mind. This was his only shot and he knew it. If Chris and the rest of them walked out of here not believing what he said, then by tomorrow morning their horrific tale would be on the front page of the Raccoon City newspaper. Irons had not spent thirty years protecting his city to see it destroyed by a scandal of this magnitude.

Suddenly, all of the responsibility that Umbrella had so willingly taken from him landed right back on his shoulders. And he found that he liked its weight.

I have to tell you a long story, he said.

We have the time, Chris responded, his voice hard.

Irons took a deep breath and let it out slowly, considering his words. The Umbrella Corporation owns the City Council. They own it completely, every single councilman and woman is paid off and firmly under their thumb. It’s been like that for more than twenty years. I didn’t really realize the extent of the corruption until after I became Chief of Police. Umbrella controls the local government here. They pretty much own the entire city.

Jesus, Jill whispered. Chris merely shook his head bitterly.

Not long after I was promoted to this office, I was invited to a special meeting with some members of the Council and some representatives from Umbrella. At the meeting, they told me about some of their more secretive projects in and around Raccoon City. As Police Chief, they said I was entitled to that information. They told me about the experimental laboratory out in the Arklay Mountains.

So you did know about it, Chris said.

I knew it was there, but they didn’t give me any details. They wanted me to know just enough to involve me. But they stressed how secret and important all their research was, and assured me that everything was legal and above board.

Did you believe them? Jill asked.

Irons could not help but shrug. "Not really. Sort of. It wasn’t really a case of whether or not I believed them. All I knew was that I