CHAPTER 41

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The sight of the heavily armored figure in their midst—his face now revealed as the same young man from the laboratory—sent a fresh wave of shock rippling through the assembled survivors. Dust motes danced in the aftermath of battle, and the acrid smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air.

Jill Valentine was the first to break the stunned silence, her pistol still held at low ready. "An antidote for this virus," she said, continuing her line of thought as if the firefight had been merely a minor interruption. "Does it actually exist?"

"Yes." Ward's response was immediate, his armor seamlessly reforming to mask his features once again. "But the serum is difficult to synthesize, and the quantity is infinitesimally small."

Carlos Oliveira's pain-glazed eyes suddenly blazed with renewed hope. He stared at the armored figure like a drowning man glimpsing a life raft. The infection was spreading through his system, but here—here—was salvation.

Before anyone could voice another question, Ward raised a hand, his attention diverted elsewhere. The soft chime of an incoming call echoed from his helmet's external speaker, followed by Dr. Ashford's anxious voice crackling through the static.

"Morey! Did you find her? Have you seen my daughter?"

"Of course," Ward replied with characteristic calm. He turned toward Angela, gently tilting his helmet so the communications unit was closer to her small frame. "Come and talk to your father."

"Dad?" Angela's voice was clear and strong, cutting through the tension like a blade. "I'm okay."

"Oh, thank God." The relief in Ashford's voice was palpable, his words breaking into quiet sobs. "Angela, you must follow Uncle Morey closely. Do not get lost."

Ward ended the call with a soft click. "Let's go," he said, effortlessly scooping Angela into his arms. "We need to get you outside the city to meet your father."

"Wait!" Alice's voice rang out as she stepped forward, her expression desperate. "What about us? The Doctor promised us the location of the evacuation point."

"City Hall," Ward said matter-of-factly, his thrusters already beginning their pre-flight sequence. "There's a helicopter on the roof—the last one out. You need to hurry. I'm leaving now."

"Wait—" Alice tried again, but Ward was already preparing for takeoff when Angela's small voice drifted from within his protective embrace.

"Uncle... can you take them with you?"

Ward paused mid-thrust, his head tilting as he considered the group before him. "What is it you want?" he asked Alice directly, his tone neither hostile nor particularly welcoming.

"The antidote." Alice's gaze was intense, unwavering. "My friend is infected. We need it." She gestured toward Carlos, who was now leaning heavily against a crumbling wall, his face pale and slick with feverish sweat.

Ward's eyes moved from Carlos to Alice, and his mind began to race. Her blood, he thought, calculations spinning through his consciousness. The T-Virus bonded with her symbiotically. It's the key to a perfected, stable version. A priceless biological asset.

"Yes," he said after a moment of careful consideration. "But I need something in return—a sample of your blood."

With practiced efficiency, he produced a sleek silver case from his belt. The interior was lined with foam padding, housing several vials of shimmering green serum alongside a sterile syringe that caught the flickering light.

"Done," Alice agreed without hesitation.

She took one of the vials, the emerald liquid seeming to pulse with its own inner light, and administered it to Carlos. The effect was almost immediate—color began returning to his ashen features, and his labored breathing steadied.

Returning to Ward, Alice presented her arm without ceremony. The syringe's needle slid into her vein with surgical precision, drawing a tube of dark crimson blood before retracting with a soft click.

"You need to hurry," Ward said, securing the precious sample in his case. His voice carried an edge of urgency that hadn't been there before. "Umbrella's final contingency plan is nuclear sterilization. They will turn this entire city to glass before sunrise."

With those chilling words, he and Angela shot upward through the broken ceiling, a black shadow disappearing into the night sky, leaving the stunned survivors to race for their lives against an atomic clock.

Ward streaked through the air, Angela held securely in his arms, heading for the main evacuation point at Ravens' Gate Bridge. Below them, the city burned—a patchwork of flames and shadow that painted the night in hellish hues.

Ahead, a thick concrete wall rose like a monolithic barrier between the dead city and the living world. It crawled with Umbrella soldiers in full biohazard gear, their movements precise and purposeful. Searchlights cut frantic paths through the darkness, creating a web of illumination that seemed to pulse with its own nervous energy.

As Ward approached, the lights converged on him like the eyes of some mechanical beast. Rifles snapped up in unison, red laser dots dancing across his armor.

"Hold your fire!" Ward's amplified voice boomed across the checkpoint. "I am an officer of the Umbrella Corporation!"

He landed with surprising grace on the platform atop the gate, gently setting Angela down beside him. His helmet retracted with a soft hiss, revealing his composed features. "My name is Morey, assistant to Dr. Ashford. I have his daughter."

A dark-skinned man in tactical gear—the only one without a helmet—approached with measured caution. His rifle remained trained on Ward's chest, finger resting alongside the trigger guard. "What department?" he asked, professional skepticism coloring his tone.

"Scientific Research Division," Ward replied with unruffled calm.

"Please wait a moment. I need to report this." The man spoke into his communications unit, relaying the information to his superior: Kane.

Minutes stretched like hours before the response crackled back. The soldier lowered his rifle, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Mr. Morey, Director Kane allows you to enter. Someone will be here to pick you up shortly."

The man who appeared was Kane himself, his immaculate suit somehow unruffled by the surrounding chaos. He studied Ward's battle suit for a long moment, his gaze calculating, before settling on Angela with a slight frown creasing his brow.

"Mr. Morey," he said, his smile as warm and artificial as molten plastic. "A pleasure to see you again. I've been waiting for you."

"Mr. Kane," Ward replied, matching his false pleasantries with surgical precision.

"Let's go down. Professor Ashford is very anxious to see his daughter." Kane gestured toward a service ladder, and two soldiers immediately stepped toward Angela, clearly intending to escort her into quarantine.

"No." Ward's voice dropped to a low growl as he moved to block their path, his presence suddenly radiating menace. "She is not at risk of infection."

Kane's head turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the sudden shift in dynamics. The calculation behind his gaze was almost visible, weighing options and consequences.

"Of course," he finally said, his smile returning like a mask sliding back into place. "I'm sure Dr. Ashford will handle her decontamination personally."

Ward took Angela's hand, her small fingers disappearing within his armored grasp, and followed Kane down the ladder to the green lawn of the command post below. The contrast was jarring—manicured grass and emergency lighting creating an island of false normalcy in the midst of apocalypse.

Dr. Ashford was waiting, his wheelchair positioned with clear sightlines to the ladder. The moment he saw his daughter, his face transformed, pure joy erasing lines of worry and fear. "Baby! Come here!"

"Dad!" Angela cried, breaking free from Ward's protective grip and running into her father's open arms.

"What a tender scene," Kane observed, his tone dripping with mockery. He turned to Ward, his expression shifting to something more predatory. "Mr. Morey, I'd like to have a word with you about your work. Is now convenient?"

Though phrased as a question, the underlying steel made it clear this was an order, not a request.

Ward glanced around, his enhanced vision cataloging the tactical situation. In the darkness beyond the command post's illuminated circle, he could now see dozens of soldiers, their weapons held ready, surrounding them in a loose but effective perimeter.

Isaacs's men, he thought with something approaching amusement. So predictable.

His visor flowed back over his face like liquid metal, his eyes glowing a menacing scarlet through the optical array.

"Yes," Kane said, thinking he had gained the upper hand. "I advise you to come quietly. Or I will be forced to kill both of them." He produced a pistol with theatrical precision, aiming it at Ashford and his daughter. "Dr. Ashford is a rare property of our company. I would hate to see that asset liquidated. But you... you make things very difficult for me."

The weapon's muzzle never wavered as Kane continued, "I can give you five seconds to surrender."

"Ha!" A dry, humorless laugh echoed from Ward's helmet, the sound somehow more chilling than any threat. "I thought you would be smarter than this. It seems your intelligence on the matter is incomplete."

His voice carried a note of genuine pity as he continued, "Do you really think I would let someone like Dr. Ashford take away my achievements?"

Kane frowned, a sudden chill of unease washing over him. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. The tactical situation he thought he controlled was shifting beneath his feet like quicksand.

Just as his finger began to tighten on the trigger, several cobalt streaks of light flashed through the camp. There was a series of soft, wet impacts—thunk, thunk, thunk—almost musical in their precision.

Before the surrounding soldiers could even process what was happening, they collapsed to the ground in perfect synchronization, each bearing a neat, cauterized hole in their chest. The smell of burned flesh and ozone filled the air.

The situation had reversed in an instant.

Kane stared in horror, cold sweat breaking out across his brow as the reality of his predicament crystallized. An electromagnetic arrow now hovered inches from his own heart, its tip pulsing with barely contained energy.

"Director," Ward said, his voice now dripping with ironic politeness. "Let's talk."

"Calm down," Kane stammered, his pistol clattering to the ground as his hands shot up in surrender. "You have to know—my boss is Dr. Isaacs, one of the chairmen. You can't kill me."

"My immediate superior is Chairman Alicia Marcus," Dr. Ashford interjected, wheeling forward with renewed confidence. "Killing you, an operative of a rival chairman, will have no negative effect on him whatsoever."

"Alright, buddy, relax," Ward said, the arrow sliding up Kane's chest with predatory grace before neatly destroying the discarded pistol in a shower of sparks. "I'm not going to kill you. I just want something you have."

"What... what do you want?" Kane swallowed hard, his earlier bravado evaporating like morning mist.

"Project Alice. And the Nemesis Project," Ward said lightly, his visor retracting to reveal his unnervingly calm features.

Kane's eyes widened in shock. "How could you possibly know about those?" The projects were buried in layers of classification, known only to the highest-level personnel.

"I think you have the data on hand."

"No! I don't! It's all with Dr. Isaacs!" The lie came easily, born of desperation and training.

Ward sighed with what seemed like genuine regret. "That's a pity."

A blue light flashed. Searing pain erupted in Kane's leg as an arrow shot through muscle and bone with surgical precision.

"Ahhh!" His scream echoed across the command post as he collapsed, clutching his thigh while blood seeped between his fingers.

Ward walked over with unhurried steps and squatted down beside the writhing man. Another arrow materialized, its tip hovering inches from Kane's eye, close enough that he could feel the electromagnetic field dancing across his cornea.

"Let me rephrase," Ward said, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper that was somehow more terrifying than any shout. "I want the data for Project Alice and the Nemesis Project."

The fear of death, mixed with blinding pain, shattered Kane's resolve like glass. "I... I have it!" he gritted out through clenched teeth, his face pale and waxy with shock. "In the main observation room! We were preparing to conduct a confrontation test... between Alice and Nemesis."

"See?" Ward said with a smile that never reached his eyes, helping the trembling, bleeding man to his feet with mock solicitude. "That wasn't so hard."

The electromagnetic arrow continued to hover near Kane's face, a constant reminder of how quickly the tables could turn again.

"It seems you are quite useful after all."

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