Carlos glared at her for another moment, then nod-ded reluctantly, letting the tension go. She was right; if there was something definitive in Hennings's notes about what was happening in Raccoon, it might be of use to them.

"Fine. Just grab every cable you can find and hurry back, okay?"

Jill nodded and was gone a second later, disappear-ing into the shadows without a sound. Amazing, how quiet she was; that took serious training. Although he didn't know much about them, Carlos had heard of the S.T.A.R.S., heard they were supposed to be good; Jill Valentine certainly proved it.

"Let's see what you have to say for yourself, Hen-nings," Carlos muttered, flipped open the journal, and started to read the final entry.

I didn't know it was going to be like this. I owe them every-thing, but I would have turned this down if I had known. It's the screaming, I can't take it anymore and who gives a crap if my cover's blown? Everybody's going to die, it doesn't mat-ter. The streets are filled with screaming and that doesn't matter, either. When the company saved my ass two years ago, they told me that I was going to be working on the dark side, which was fine by me. I was about to be executed, I would have agreed to ten years of shit shoveling, and what the rep told me didn't sound too bad – me and some other cons were going to be trained as troubleshooters, dealing with illegal aspects of their research. They have their legit organizations already, couple of paramilitary units, the biohazard boys, a pretty decent envi-ronmental protection crew. Our job was going to be cleaning up messes before too many people noticed, and making sure the people who did notice never got a chance to talk about it. Six months of intensive training and I was ready for any-thing. Our first assignment was to get rid of some test sub-jects who'd gone into hiding. These people wanted to go public about the drug they'd been injected with, it was supposed to slow down the aging process but it gave all of them cancer. It took awhile, but we got all of them. I'm not proud of myself for that, or for anything else I did in the last year and a half, but I learned to live with it. I was specially selected for Operation Watchdog. They planted a bunch of us here right after the first spill, just in case, but not everyone was chosen to be a Watchdog. They said I was more committed than the others, that I wouldn't crumble watching others die. Hooray for me. I worked in a warehouse for two weeks as an inventoiy specialist, waiting for something to happen, bored out of my goddamn skull – and then every-thing happened at once, and I haven't slept for three days and everyone keeps screaming until the flesh eaters get to them, and then they either die or they also start to eat. I tried to get hold of some of the others, the plants, but I can't find anyone. I only know a few of them anyway, four of the people selected as Watchdogs – Terry Foster, Martin, that spooky Russian, the hospital doc with the glasses. Maybe they're dead, maybe they escaped, maybe they have yet to be sent in. I don't care. I haven't made a report since day before yesterday, and Umbrella can blow it out their ass and burn in hell. I'm sure I'll see them there. I've chosen to pull the trigger myself, a head shot so I won't come back. I wish they'd left me to be executed, I de-served that. Nobody deserves this. I'm sorry. If anyone finds this, believe that much.

The rest of the pages were blank. Carlos knelt next to Hennings in a kind of numb haze and examined his cold right hand for gunshot residue. It was there. Somebody must have taken the gun later…

"Carlos?"

He looked up and saw Jill holding a handful of ca-bles, a look of curious concern on her dirty, pretty face. "That spooky Russian." How many could there pos-sibly be? Carlos didn't know what a Watchdog was, but he thought that Nicholai had some explaining to do and that it might be a good idea to get back to Mikhail as soon as possible. "I think I owe you an apology," Carlos said, his stomach suddenly in knots. Nicholai had found Mikhail just after he'd been shot, allegedly by some random stranger… "What for?" Jill asked. Carlos tucked the journal into a vest pocket, taking a last look at Hennings, feeling disgust and pity and a building anger at Umbrella, at Nicholai, at himself for being so naive. "I'll explain on the way back," he said, gripping his assault rifle so tightly that his hands started to tremble, the anger continuing to rise in him like a black flood.

"Nicholai will be waiting for us."

After installing the new fuse in the trolley's control panel, Nicholai decided to wait inside the station for Carlos and Jill to return. Many of the first-floor win-dows were broken, and it was dark inside; he'd be able to hear any private, last-minute conversation between them as they entered the yard. Nicholai had no doubt that Jill would have a few words of warning for Carlos regarding Umbrella, perhaps about Nicholai directly, and the truth was, he just couldn't help himself; he wanted to know what the S.T.A.R.S. woman had to say, what paranoid drivel she'd spout, and how Carlos would react. He'd rejoin them a minute or so after they boarded the trolley, say he was checking the building for supplies or something, and see what developed from there.

Do we take a ride, or will I be traveling alone? Per-haps we'll stay together for the night, foraging for food, taking turns at standing guard. I could kill them in their sleep; I could entice both of them to accom-pany me to the hospital to engage the Hunters; I could disappear, and allow them to evacuate thinking that their dear friend had been lost.

Nicholai smiled, a cool night draft from a shattered pane breezing across his face. In a very real way, their lives were in his hands. It was a powerful feeling, even intoxicating, to have that kind of control. What had started out as a primarily financial venture had evolved into something new, something he had no words for, a game, but so much more. An understanding of human destiny like nothing he'd ever experienced. He'd al-ways known that he was different, that societal bound-aries didn't apply to him in the same way that others understood them; coming to Raccoon was an amplifica-tion of that, it was like an alternate reality in which they were the strangers, the outsiders, and he was the only one who really knew what was going on. For the first time in his life, he felt free to do as he liked. Nicholai heard the gate from the alleyway creak open, slowly, stealthily, and he backed away from the window. A second later, the two young soldiers stepped into view, moving almost as silently as himself. He noted with some surprise that they were sweeping the yard, as if they expected trouble.

Perhaps they met up with the Tyrant-creature.

That would certainly spice things up, if Jill was being tracked, although Nicholai meant to let the seeker have her if it showed up. It would kill anyone stupid enough

to get in its way; Nicholai would happily step aside.Jill was slightly ahead of Carlos, and as they cau-tiously edged forward, Nicholai saw that she carriedseveral cables slung over one shoulder. Maybe hewould keep them around awhile, they were proving tobe successful at running errands."All clear," Carlos whispered, and Nicholai smiled tohimself. He could hear them perfectly.

"He has to be back by now, if he didn't run into oneof the creatures," Jill whispered.Nicholai's smile faltered a little. It was impossible,but… were they sweeping for him?

"I say we approach like we don't know anything," Carlos said, keeping his voice low. "Get on board, get on either side of him, make him give up the rifle. He carries a knife, too." What is this, what's changed? Nicholai was con-fused, uncertain. What can they possibly know? Jill was nodding. "Let me ask the questions. I know more background on Umbrella, I think I have a better chance of convincing him that we know all about this Watchdog mission. If he thinks we already know…" "…then he won't bother hiding anything," Carlos finished. "Okay. Let's do it. Keep your weapon ready, just in case he's planning a surprise party."