Chapter 152: Mission: Impossible (Patreon)

"Watch it," Jill warned. The sights of her M4 stayed locked on a Pale Head's skull.

She squeezed the trigger. The rounds stitched into an almost perfectly straight line, most of them landing between its eyes.

The Pale Head staggered backward under the barrage, then toppled onto the hard floor.

The back of its skull hit the ground with a dull thud.

It twitched a couple of times, then went still.

Barry kept the Silver Python trained on the head of another Pale Head.

Billy pulled out his M24 sniper rifle and, through the scope, locked onto a different one.

The two fired at almost the same instant.

Their aim was precise, and the fight ended cleanly.

The remaining Pale Heads were wiped out just as quickly, thanks to the trio's seamless teamwork.

Nathaniel Bard watched Jill and the others on the monitor feed.

His face turned ugly. He couldn't let them go any deeper.

Otherwise his identity as chief researcher of NEST-2 (Mother Nest No. 2) would be exposed.

And when that happened, his prison sentence would probably outlast the lifespan of the Earth.

But how could he stop them? Bard clawed at his hair in agony, nothing left of his usual air of a superior mind.

He gritted his teeth and racked his brain, but came up with nothing.

The main problem was that he had no one useful at hand, while order in Raccoon City still held.

One could even say the situation was already under control.

Even if, in the best case, he managed to kill all three of them, it wouldn't solve the root problem.

The rest of the police department could still dig up what he had done.

He was out of options. All Bard could do now was pray that Umbrella's people would get him out in time, before he was caught.

Little did he know, the UBCS members who were supposed to rescue him had already become a force under Ivan's command, and were now guarding most of Raccoon City's underground sewer system.

"Achoo!"

Seeing Carlos sneeze, Tyrell asked with concern, "What's wrong with you?"

Then he broke into a wicked grin.

"Oh~ I get it. That blonde last night was so wild you've come down with a chill on shift today, huh?"

Carlos punched him, annoyed.

"Screw you. It feels like somebody's talking about me.

"Are we forgetting something?"

At that, Tyrell dropped the teasing and fell into thought as well.

"Now that you mention it, maybe we are.

"But what is it?"

Carlos clapped his hands together.

"I remember now! When we set out, there was that doctor yelling at us to come rescue him, remember?"

Prompted by his words, Tyrell remembered right away.

"Right, right! That guy said he was important company property, that countless people's fates rested on him. Said if anything happened to him, we couldn't afford the consequences.

"Bard, wasn't it?!"

Carlos nodded.

"Yeah, that's the name."

"Uh… so do we still need to go find him?"

Seeing Tyrell hesitate, Carlos took out his radio.

"Keep quiet. Let me ask the boss and see what he says."

Tyrell gave him a look that said, "Leave it to you to have an idea."

Then he tucked his hands into his pockets and quietly listened in.

"Hello."

"Boss, it's Carlos. Listen, I wanted to ask about that Doctor Bard business…"

Mikhail heard him out and didn't take long to decide.

"Carlos, don't you think there's something off about this man?

"And don't forget, our main mission is to support Raccoon City. Everything else is none of our concern."

"Got it, boss."

He hung up the radio and turned to Tyrell, who looked entirely too relaxed.

"What do you think the boss meant by that?"

Tyrell pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Wait, man, didn't you just say you got it?"

Carlos didn't want to admit that he hadn't actually grasped the real meaning.

"Sort of, sort of. I just wanted to test the sharpest brain on our team and see what you make of it."

"Fine, since you put it that way, I can't be modest about it.

"The boss's meaning is simple: leave it alone.

"And the reason he said this guy has problems?

"The timing of his call for help was wrong. Nothing serious had happened at Spencer Memorial Hospital, so why was he in such a rush to evacuate?"

With Tyrell's nudge, it clicked for Carlos too.

"You mean this guy's up to something? He was using us to get out of Raccoon City fast because he's afraid of Ivan and the others?"

Tyrell put a hand on his forehead.

"Not bad. Looks like the blonde last night didn't do her job, since our big genius still has some brainpower left."

Carlos slapped his hand away.

"I can hear the envy. Now shut up."

As he said it, he flipped him the middle finger.

Tyrell didn't mind. It was practically how they got along every day.

After that, the two of them tacitly agreed never to bring up Bard again.

"Poor" Bard had no idea that a sentence long enough to keep him behind bars for several hundred lifetimes was already being printed.

Back in Raccoon City itself, the police squads didn't always come out of their operations unscathed.

The BOWs' habits and attack methods were endlessly strange, impossible to guard against.

Inside the police department, moles who had received the message but hadn't yet been found out were also causing trouble in secret.

That led to some needless casualties.

On top of that, Umbrella's other operatives left in Raccoon City, along with those who had just arrived through various covert channels, kept up their sabotage.

Casualties climbed even higher.

To curb this, Ivan hadn't left things unprepared.

Two of his best men were carrying out precision hunts on the matter.

"Bang!"

"Ugh!"

An officer clutched his wound and looked at the teammate behind him.

His eyes were filled with disbelief, and a trace of understanding.

He knew the one who shot him was a mole placed by Umbrella.

The problem was, so was he!!!

But not every mole was determined to stay with Umbrella to the bitter end.

He was the exception, and the teammate who shot him was the exception among exceptions.

A true sneak among sneaks. They'd clearly agreed to stop working for Umbrella.

He just hadn't expected the guy to play a spy game on him.

"Ugh… You're… ruthless…"

"How much… did they give you…"

His teammate smiled.

"Not much. Thirty thousand dollars. Nobody'll ever know about this anyway, so why not?"

But in a corner neither of them could see, a drop of black liquid slid down from the body.

"Heh heh… You'll regret this… You won't get that money… You…"

The life draining from him could no longer support the next words he never got to say.

His body slumped against the wall, head drooping, lifeless.

"Thanks for the good wishes. When I take the money and run, I won't forget your contribution today. Ha ha."

Clearly he hadn't taken the dying man's words to heart at all.

With that, he pulled out a miniature camera and aimed it at the corpse, intending to keep it as evidence.

But just then, he felt a faint tremor rising through the soles of his feet.

"What's going on?"