"I see the archive… let's go," Ghost said again, opening the door and stepping into the dark hall—judging by my complete switch to night vision. Fortunately, this time I caught the moment, though I couldn't replicate it myself.
"Now find the evidence and destroy it." Once again, I managed to miss the moment when Lupo activated communications with her superiors.
"Ha, boom!" And the big guy hurled three grenades deep into the rather large room. Which, admittedly, made sense—the archive here was quite extensive. True, after two explosions, everything was scattered, and when the incendiary grenade went off, it all caught fire as well.
"Beltway!" Lupo was clearly dissatisfied with her subordinate's behavior.
"The archive is destroyed," he replied contentedly.
I was genuinely glad that the ceilings in the archive were very high. So even with the light from the fire, the light didn't reach me.
"What if your explosions had caused a fire or collapsed the room?" the commander continued to scold him, though judging by her tone, she had already calmed down.
"You know me—I've got it all figured out," Beltway shrugged, clearly showing off. Or maybe not. If only I could see his face; then I could judge by his expression and eyes whether he was actually boasting. As it was, who knew?
"The task is complete. Now let's get out of here." The hooded man reminded that he, too, was capable of speech.
The instruments beeped again, and after exchanging glances, the mercenaries headed for the far exit of the hall, opposite the one they'd entered through. Either there was another objective, or the exit was closer on that side. Still, something was bothering me—more precisely, making me nervous.
In the room behind the archive, there were apparently a couple of crates that hadn't fit inside, which Beltway promptly mined, this time with the commander's permission.
Meanwhile, Foue Eyes was quietly downloaded something on a computer in the far corner. Quietly, yes—but with imperceptibility, a failure. Besides me, perched on the ceiling with a clear view of everything, my subject for knowledge acquisition noticed it too, placing hand against the underside of his helmet. Lupo mirrored the gesture, immediately turning around, and after a couple of seconds—during which the unsuspecting Foue Eyes was held at gunpoint—she shook her head. Instantly, both mercenaries pretended nothing had happened. How interesting! So what's going on here? Is everyone ready to betray everyone else, or has Foue Eyes simply fallen out of favor with command?
Meanwhile, events continued to unfold. The squad, unaware of the actions of some of its members, quickly descended another stair-tunnel to the next floor, and an explosion thundered behind them, accompanied by a powerful jolt. Someone had clearly overdone it with the explosives—but I wasn't about to complain, lest they hear me! The blonde did that for me, whom the offending demolitionist promised to kill, because she turned out to be too toxic.
The squad went down another level and sprinted through the corridor, running straight into yet another door. I waited for them to pass, then crawled through myself—this time, the doorway was of a normal size. I quickly climbed up to the ceiling and settled into the far corner. Not only was the lighting good here, but the entire place reeked of Lickers. Still, that wasn't why I'd chosen an even more concealed position.
The mercenaries emerged from the side directly onto a stage. Or rather—this being City Hall—it would be more accurate to call it a podium for officials' speeches. However, there were no audience stands, though that was understandable: in the center of the hall, to the right of the mercenaries who'd come through the doors, stood scaffolding. Apparently, restoration work was underway. And Zinoviev was standing on one of those scaffold structures.
I decided not to let him see me just yet. Given his position, if I crawled out of my corner now, he'd be at the same height as me—the ceiling above the podium was lower than in the rest of the hall—and he might react in a way that wouldn't end well for me. And honestly, no matter how he reacted, it would be a disaster either way.
"Nikolai! What does all this mean?! Why did you kill your squad?" The hooded man was one of the first to spot him, drawing the rest of the squad's attention to the Russian with such a simple way.
"Ha-ha-ha! They played their roles perfectly. And the same awaits you!"
Nikolai jerked back sharply and fired somewhere above the squad. Damn it! The severed rope—something the Umbrella mercenaries hadn't noticed—triggered the hatches along the entire length of the hall. Quiet hissing and crackling followed, though it was drowned out by echoing laughter, shouted words, and the shot from one fraudster.
"Stay where you are," my subject for acquiring knowledge spoke up again.
Only then did the mercenaries finally hear the hissing and look up, staring at the Lickers crawling out of the openings. Well, well. Five of them were already pouring out of just one hole, and judging by the noise, there were more coming! There were only three openings above the podium—but I couldn't even count how many there were across the rest of the hall, and creatures were crawling out of every single one.
And then another problem arose.
Foue Eyes glanced suspiciously at her wrist radar, then up at the Lickers on the ceiling, then back at the radar—and finally turned sharply in my direction. The other mercenaries noticed this and followed her gaze.
That's what you call bad luck!
Now, Alex, calculate how long it will take the Lickers to orient themselves by the sound of the mercenaries and attack—and whether these Umbrellas will have time to shoot… at me!
"What's that?" the blonde said in surprise.
That's it. The sound has been made. All that's left is to buy myself ten seconds—and I even know how to do it. Time to put on a show called "The Talking Undead."
🎁 Bonus chapter at 100 power stones!