I'm planning the future plot
Suggestions here...
*****
They sat on the steps of the grand staircase to catch their breath...
"Now we have to get in touch with the others," Kenneth said, clutching his arm. "And then everyone gets out of here together."
"The Captain and the others cannot be contacted," Rebecca said, her voice frustrated.
"The radio interference is getting worse. The situation is truly dire."
Atlas stood at the bottom of the steps, watching the main double doors.
"Something's coming," he said.
"What?" Kenneth asked.
BANG!
A gunshot echoed from outside the mansion. Then another.
WOOF! GROWL!
The ferocious roar of dogs tore through the night air, followed by the frantic shouting of men and women.
'Alpha Team,' Atlas thought.
The three of them stood up, weapons raised, aiming at the front door.
CLICK.
The lock turned.
"Quick! Come in!" a male voice shouted.
The heavy double doors swung open.
Four people burst into the hall, stumbling, breathing hard. They slammed the doors shut behind them, throwing the bolts just as a heavy body slammed against the wood from the outside.
THUD.
The dogs scratched at the door, then silence returned.
The new arrivals turned around, weapons raised, adrenaline pumping.
They saw Atlas, Rebecca, and Kenneth standing on the stairs.
The tension broke instantly.
"Kenneth! Rebecca!"
It was Jill Valentine. She lowered her Samurai Edge, a look of pure joy breaking through her exhaustion.
"Jill! Chris! Barry! Captain Wesker!" Rebecca shouted happily, running down the stairs.
The two teams collided in a flurry of relieved pats on the back and breathless questions.
Alpha Team had arrived.
Jill Valentine, in her iconic blue beret and shoulder pads.
Chris Redfield, looking young and stoic.
Barry Burton, clutching his massive Colt Python.
And standing at the back, cool and detached, wearing sunglasses at night—Albert Wesker.
"You're alive!" Jill said, hugging Rebecca. "We feared the worst."
"How did you get here?" Rebecca asked excitedly.
"We lost contact with the team over 20 hours ago," Chris explained. "The Director sent us to look for you. We found the helicopter wreckage..."
Chris trailed off, looking at Kenneth.
"We found Kevin," Barry said solemnly, his voice gravelly. "He... he didn't make it. Torn apart inside the cockpit."
"Forest is gone too," Rebecca said, tears pricking her eyes. "On the terrace."
"Damn it," Chris muttered, clenching his fist.
"Why are there only four of you?" Kenneth asked. "Where's Brad?"
"Coward took off," Barry spat. "As soon as the dogs attacked, he panicked and flew away. Left us stranded."
The reality of the situation settled over the group. No chopper. No extraction. Trapped in a mansion surrounded by monsters.
"Okay," Captain Wesker spoke up. His voice was calm, almost robotic. He stepped forward, his hidden eyes scanning the group. "Let's first find a way to get out of here and see if we can find Enrico."
His gaze slid past Rebecca. It slid past Kenneth.
It landed on Atlas.
Wesker froze.
For a split second, the mask slipped. His brow furrowed.
He scanned the stranger. Six-foot-plus. Built like a tank. Heavily armed. Wearing civilian tactical gear, not any agency issued one.
This man was not in the mission briefing. He was not in the S.T.A.R.S. roster. He was an anomaly.
Wesker hated anomalies.
"And who," Wesker asked, his voice dropping a few degrees, "is this?"
The entire room went quiet. All eyes turned to Atlas.
Atlas stood calmly, his hands free near his belt. He met Wesker's gaze. He didn't blink. He didn't flinch.
For a split second, the air between them crackled.
Wesker's hidden eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses. He recognized this man. He had seen him on the grainy security monitors in the Training Facility just hours ago. He was the "Unknown Variable" who had been running with the convict Billy Coen. The one who moved with impossible speed. The one who should have been blown to ashes in the self-destruct sequence.
'You,' Wesker thought, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. 'You were supposed to burn with Marcus.'
"This is Atlas," Rebecca stepped in quickly, sensing the sudden, sharp spike in tension. She stood slightly in front of Atlas, a subconscious gesture of protection.
"He's a survivor we picked up. He was investigating the mountains. He... he saved me, Captain. He saved Kenneth too. We wouldn't be here without him."
"Investigating?" Wesker repeated, the word dripping with cold skepticism. He took a slow, predatory step forward. "A civilian investigator... heavily armed... wandering into a biological containment zone? And surviving where my best men failed?"
He stopped a foot from Atlas, looking up slightly to meet his eyes.
"I find that hard to believe. You fit the profile of a mercenary. Or perhaps... a conspirator."
"I take my investigative trips very seriously," Atlas deadpanned, holding Wesker's gaze with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "And I have a habit of surviving things I shouldn't. Just lucky, I guess."
Chris snorted. Barry cracked a nervous smile at the bravado.
But Wesker didn't smile. He was calculating. He saw the challenge in Atlas's grey eyes.
'He knows,' Wesker realized. 'But how much remains to be seen.'
Wesker didn't like the feeling of not being in control. This man was a loose end. A loose end that had survived the Training Facility and walked right into his secondary kill box.
But he couldn't act now. Not in front of Chris and Jill. He was a master of adaptation.
"Very well," Wesker nodded curtly, stepping back. "If Rebecca vouches for you, you can assist. But stay out of the way of my team. I won't have an outsider complicating my mission."
Atlas just smirked, reading the threat perfectly. "I'll try not to step on your toes, Captain."
The subtext was clear to both of them: I saw you watching. And I'm still here.
Atlas turned his gaze away from Wesker and found himself looking at Jill Valentine.
She was staring at him.
She had noticed him immediately. It was hard not to. In a room full of fit police officers, Atlas stood out. He was wider, denser. He loomed over Rebecca like a mountain.
Jill stepped forward, holstering her gun. She brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Hello," she said, extending her gloved hand. Her voice was professional, but there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "I'm Jill Valentine. Have we met before?"
Atlas looked at her. 'She was stunning—even better than the 4K remakes.' Gorgeous, capable, and sharp.
He took her hand. His grip was firm, his skin cool.
"Hello, Jill," Atlas said, his voice smooth. "My name is Atlas. And no, we haven't officially met. But... I think you saw me."
Jill tilted her head. "I did?"
"Saturday morning," Atlas smiled. "Outside the Kendo Gun Shop. You were in a cruiser, looking very stressed. I was the civilian walking out with a duffel bag."
Jill's eyes widened in recognition. The memory clicked. The handsome man in the leather jacket. The calm grey eyes in the middle of a panic.
"The guy with the gym bag," Jill realized, a smile tugging at her lips. "I remember. You looked like the only person in the city who wasn't freaking out."
"I have a good poker face," Atlas said.
"I'd say," Jill laughed softly. She looked him up and down, noting the way his t-shirt strained against his chest. "I remember thinking you looked... capable. A guy as wide as you is hard to forget."
"Lady," Atlas feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you calling me fat? I'll have you know this is pure, high-grade American steel."
Jill laughed, a genuine, bright sound that seemed to push back the darkness of the mansion. "I didn't say fat. I said wide. There's a difference. Steel, huh?"
"Hydraulic fluid and a bad attitude," Atlas corrected with a wink.
"I'll keep that in mind," Jill grinned.
From the side, Rebecca watched the interaction. She felt a tiny, sharp pang in her chest. A pinch of jealousy. She stepped closer to Atlas, her shoulder bumping his arm, reasserting her claim.
Atlas felt it. He glanced down at Rebecca and gave her a subtle nod, letting her know she wasn't forgotten.
"Alright, settle down," Wesker interrupted, cutting through the banter. He didn't like the camaraderie. He needed them separated. He needed them dead.
"We need to secure the area," Wesker commanded, his voice echoing in the vast, silent Main Hall. He adjusted his sunglasses, hiding the calculation in his eyes. "Bravo Team—Rebecca, Kenneth, and... Atlas. You search the first floor. Check the dining area, the kitchens, and everything in between."
"Alpha Team," he continued, turning to his own subordinates. "Jill, Barry—you take the second floor, East Wing. We'll secure the West Wing perimeter. I'm waiting for you in the lobby, ready for reinforcements."