ResidentEvil-Nemesis [EPILOGUE (End)]

EPILOGUE

TRENT HAD HIS HANDS FULL FOR MOST OF

the day, listening in on the spindoc meetings, arranging

for media sympathy with a few of their bought

networks, and explaining the difference between

HARMs - the air to surface missiles that the army had

used on Raccoon - and SRAMs to the three heads of

White Umbrella. Jackson, in particular, was unhappy

that the larger tactical missiles hadn't been used; he

didn't seem to understand that a deliberate nuclear incident

within the United States had to be kept as small

and contained as possible. Ironic, that a man with so

much wealth and power could be so oblivious to the

reality he had helped create.

Trent finally had a few moments to himself in the

early evening, after a final review of the Watchdog reports.

He took a cup of coffee out onto the balcony of

the rooms he used when he was at the DC offices. The

brisk twilight was refreshing after a day of recycled air

and fluorescent lights.

From twenty stories up, the city below seemed unreal,

sounds distant and features blurred. Gazing out

at nothing in particular, Trent sipped his coffee and

thought about all he'd witnessed in the past few days

from the shielded privacy of his home. Umbrella's

few dozen stationary remotes in Raccoon had had

nothing on the satellite pirate that piped information

to his private screening room; he'd been able to follow

several dramas that had unfolded in the last hours of

the city.

There had been the rookie policeman, Kennedy, and

Chris Redfield's sister - the two of them had barely escaped

the lab explosion, managing to save Sherry

Birkin, the young daughter of one of Umbrella's top research

scientists, of all people. Trent hadn't had contact

with any of them, but he knew that Leon Kennedy and

Claire Redfield had become part of the fight. They

were young, determined, and filled with a hatred for

Umbrella; he couldn't have asked for better.

Trent's high hopes for Carlos Oliveira had been well

met, and that he had joined forces with Jill Valentine

... Trent had been utterly transfixed by their escape,

pleased that two of his unwitting soldiers had

worked so well together, surviving in spite of Jill's infection,

the lunatic Russian, and the S.T.A.R.S. seeker.

Use of the experimental Tyrant-like units was still in

question by many of the White Umbrella researchers;

for as deadly efficient as they usually were, they were

also very expensive, and Trent knew that the debates

would go on, fueled by the loss of two units in the destruction

of the city.

Ada Wong, though...

Trent sighed, wishing that she had survived. The tall,

beautiful, Asian-American agent he had sent in had

been as brilliant as she was competent. He hadn't actually

seen her die, but the chances that she had escaped

both the lab explosion and the complete obliteration of

Raccoon were slim to none. Unfortunate, to say the

least.

Overall, though, Trent was satisfied with how things

were progressing. As far as he could tell, no one in the

company had the slightest inkling of who he really was

or what he was doing. The three most powerful men in

Umbrella relied on him more and more every day, completely

unaware of his agenda - to destroy the organization,

from without and within, to devastate its

leaders' lives and deliver them to justice; to organize an

elite army of men and women committed to Umbrella's

downfall, and to guide them as much as he was able in

their quest.

If his methods were complicated, the reason was

simple: to avenge the death of his parents, both scientists,

murdered when he was a child so that Umbrella

could profit from their research.

Trent smiled to himself, taking another sip from his

mug. It sounded so melodramatic, so grandiose. It had

been almost thirty years since his parents had been

burned alive in the alleged laboratory accident. He'd

left the pain behind long ago - his resolve, however,

had never faltered. He'd changed his name, his background,

given up any hope of ever having a normal

Life and regretted nothing, even now that he shared

responsibility for the deaths of so many.

It was getting dark. Far below, streetlights were

flickering on, sending up a soft glow that would radiate

out into the night sky like a halo above the city. In its

own way, it was quite beautiful.

Trent finished his coffee and absently traced the Umbrella

logo on the side of the cup with his fingers,

thinking about darkness and light, good and evil, and

the shades of gray that existed in between everything.

He needed to be very careful, and not just to avoid

being discovered; it was those shades of gray that worried

him.

After a few moments, Trent turned his back on the

gathering dark and went inside. He still had a lot to do

before he could go home.