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“For the investigation—are there other teams al-ready here, or did you come to check things out first, get the dirt on Umbrella . . ”

She trailed off as he shook his head slowly, almost sadly, his dark eyes glittering with an emotion she couldn’t read.

It came out in his voice, heavy with frustrated anger—and as the words sank in, Rebecca felt her knees go watery with a sudden anxious dread. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Ms. Chambers. I have reason to believe that Umbrella has gotten to key members of the S.T.A.R.S., either by bribery or blackmail. There is no investigation—and no one else is coming.”

A look of confused terror passed through the girl’s light brown eyes and just as quickly was gone. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

“Are you sure? I mean, did Umbrella try to get to you, or ... are you positive?”

David shook his head. “I’m not absolutely certain, no—but I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. . . concerned about it.”

It was a bit of an understatement, but David still wasn’t past the shock of seeing how young she was, and felt an almost instinctive desire not to alarm her any further. Barry had mentioned that she was some-thing of a child genius, but he hadn’t really expected a child. The biochemist wore high tops and cut-off denim shorts rolled at the knee, topped by a shapeless black T-shirt.

Get past it; this child may be the only scientist we have left.

The thought rekindled the anger that had been burning in David’s gut for the past few days. The story that had been unfolding since Barry’s call wasn’t a pretty one, filled with treachery and lies—and the fact that the S.T.A.R.S., his S.T.A.R.S., were in-volved . . .

Barry walked into the room with a glass of water and Rebecca took it from him gratefully, swallowing half of it in one gulp.

Barry shot him a glance and then turned his atten-tion to Rebecca. “He told you, huh?”

The girl nodded. “Do Jill and Chris know?” “Not yet. That’s why I called,” Barry said. “Look, no point

in going through this twice. We should wait for them to show up before we get into specifics.” “Agreed,” David said. He generally found that first impressions were the most telling, and if they were going to be working together, he wanted to get a feel for the girl’s character.

The three of them sat, and Barry started to tell Rebecca how he and David had met back in S.T.A.R.S. training when they were both much young-er men. Barry told a good story, even if it was only to kill time. David listened with half an ear as Barry related an anecdote about their graduation night, involving a rather humorless drill sergeant and sever-al rubber snakes. The girl was relaxing, even enjoying the story of their childish prank—

• seventeen years ago. She would have been cele-brating her first birthday.

Still, she had put her questions on hold at Barry’s request, even though David knew she had to be anxious about what he’d told her. The ability to retrain one’s focus so quickly was an admirable trait, one that he’d never fully mastered.

He’d been able to think of little else since his own call to the S.T.A.R.S. AD. David’s devotion to the organization had made the apparent betrayal all the more bitter, like a bad taste in his mouth that wouldn’t go away. The S.T.A.R.S. had been David’s life for almost twenty years, had given him all the things he’d lacked growing up—a sense of self-worth, a sense of purpose and integrity... .

And just like that, the lives of dedicated men and women, my life and life’s work simply tossed aside as if it meant nothing. How much did that cost? How much did Umbrella have to pay to buy the S.T.A.R.S.’s honor?

David shook the anger, focusing his attention on Rebecca. If all he’d learned was true, time was short and their resources were now severely limited. His motivations weren’t as important right now as hers.

He could tell by the way she held herself that she wasn’t the shy or submissive type, and she was obviously bright; her eyes fairly sparkled with it. From what Barry had told him, she’d acted profes-sionally throughout the Spencer facility operation. Her file suggested that she was more than qualified to work with a chemical virus, assuming that she was as good as the reports said—

• and assuming she has any desire to put her life in further danger.

That was going to be the sticking point. She hadn’t been with the S.T.A.R.S. for very long, and knowing that they’d sold their people out probably wasn’t going to overwhelm her with feelings of confidence for the job ahead. It would be just as easy for her to step out of the game now. For that matter, it would be the intelligent choice for all of them—

There was a knock at the door, presumably the other two Alphas. David’s hand drifted down to the butt of his nine-millimeter as Barry went to answer. When he walked back in leading the S.T.A.R.S. team members, David relaxed, then stood up to be formally introduced.

“Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield—this is Captain David Trapp, military strategist for the Maine S.T.A.R.S. Exeter branch.”

Chris was the marksman, if David remembered correctly, and Jill something of a covert B&E special-ist. Barry said that the pilot, Brad Vickers, had skipped town shortly after the Spencer incident. No great loss, from what he could gather; the man sounded distinctly unreliable.

He shook hands with both of them and they all sat down, Barry nodding toward him.

“David’s an old comrade of mine. We worked together on the same team for about two years, right after boot camp. He showed up on my doorstep about an hour ago with news, and I didn’t think it could wait. David?”

David cleared his throat, trying to focus on the significant facts. After a pause, he began at the begin-ning.

“As you already know, six days ago, Barry placed several calls to various S.T.A.R.S. branches to see if any word had come from the home office about the tragedy that occurred here. I received one of those calls. It was the first I’d heard about it, and I’ve since found out that the New York office hasn’t contacted anyone about your discovery. No warnings or memos. Nothing has been issued to the S.T.A.R.S. regarding the Umbrella Corporation.”

Chris and Jill exchanged looks of concern. “Maybe they’re not done investigating,” Chris said slowly.

David shook his head. “I spoke to the assistant director myself the day after Barry called. I didn’t tell him about the contact, only that I’d heard rumor of a problem in Raccoon, and wanted to know if it had any merit. . . .”

He looked at the assembled group and sighed inwardly, feeling like he’d already gone over it a thousand times.

Only in my mind, searching for another answer. . . and there isn ‘t one.

“The AD wouldn’t tell me anything outright,” he continued, “and he told me that I should remain quiet about it until official word came down. What he would say was that there had been a helicopter crash in Raccoon City—and what he implied was that the surviving S.T.A.R.S. were trying to lay blame on Umbrella, angry over some sort of funding dispute.” “But that’s not true!” Jill said. “We were investigat-ing the murders, and found—“ “Yes, Barry told me,” David interrupted. “You found that the murders were the result of a laboratory accident. The T-Virus that Umbrella was experiment-ing with was released somehow and it transformed the researchers into mad killers.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Chris said. “I know it sounds nuts, but we were there, we saw them.”

David nodded. “I believe you. I have to admit, I was skeptical after speaking with Barry. As you say, it sounds ‘nuts’—but my call to New York and what’s happened since has changed all that. I’ve known Barry for a long time, and I knew that he wouldn’t be looking to place blame for such an unfortunate inci-dent unless Umbrella was, in fact, responsible. He even told me about his own unwilling involvement in the attempted cover up.”