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Besides which, I don't have the key for the gun safe – but then, that never stopped me before. She'd practiced when no one was around just to see if she could do it and had experienced very little trouble; the safe was ancient. Jill crouched in front of the door, inserted the bar and pick, and gently felt for the tumblers. In less than a minute, she was rewarded for her efforts; the heavy door swung open, and there, in plain sight, was the stainless steel answer to at least one of her recent prayers.
"Bless you, Barry Burton," she breathed, lifting the heavy revolver off the otherwise empty lower shelf. A Colt Python.357 Magnum, six-shot with a swing-out cylinder. Barry had been the weapons specialist for the Alpha team and was a total gun nut besides. He'd taken her shooting several times, always insisting that she try out one of his Colts; he had three that she knew of, all different calibers – but the.357 packed the biggest wallop. That he'd left it behind, either by mis-take or on purpose, seemed like a miracle… as did the twenty-plus rounds in a box on the floor of the safe. There weren't any shotgun shells, but there was one magazine's worth of 9mm rounds loose in one of the drawers.
Worth the trip, at least – and with the picks I can go through the downstairs evidence room now, check for confiscated materials…
Things were looking up. Now all she had to do was sneak out of the city in the dark, avoiding zombies, vio-lent, genetically altered animals, and a Tyrant-creature that had proclaimed itself nemesis to the S.T.A.R.S. A Nemesis made for her. Amazingly, the thought made her smile. Add an im-pending explosion and some bad weather to the mix, she'd have herself a party. "Whee," she said softly and started to load the Mag-num with hands that weren't quite steady, and hadn't been for a long time.
EIGHT
AS HE SLOGGED HIS WAY THROUGH THE sewer system underneath the city streets, Nicholai found himself fascinated by the careful pla
Not for much longer, though. In another ten or twelve hours, nowhere will be safe. The bio-organics that Umbrella worked with were kept sedated, grown in Raccoon but usually shipped elsewhere for field trials. With the operation in virtual ruin, they'd break out in order to find food; some had surely escaped already, and the majority would undoubtedly make an appear-ance once they'd missed a few injections.
And won't that be fun? A little target practice to clear my palate in between searches, and with the fire-power to enjoy it.
Holding the assault rifle in the crook of his right arm, he reached down and patted the extra mags he'd taken from Wersbowski; he hadn't thought to check them before, but the quick look before he'd descended into the sewers had left him quite pleased. U.B.C.S. soldiers were issued magazines of fully jacketed.223s, designed to shoot cleanly through a target; Wersbowski had loaded up with hollow points, rounds that ex-panded and flattened on contact for maximum damage. Nicholai had already pla
"Anything new to report, Janice?"
She studied him, her light brown gaze searching his as she crossed her arms. "You're one of the Watch-dogs," she said. It wasn't a question. Nicholai nodded. "Empty your pockets onto the table, Doctor. Slowly." Thomlinson smiled. "And if I won't?" Her voice was throaty, deep and alluring. "Will you… take it from me?"
Nicholai thought for a few seconds about what she was suggesting then pulled the trigger, obliterating her lovely smile in a sudden cough of fire. Really, he didn't have time to play that particular game; he should have shot her on sight, so as not to be tempted.