[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 542 - Let's Go, Time to Hit Wesker!

"Acting?" Chris chewed on the word, brow knotting.

"Act how?"

"Simple," Leon said.

"Wesker wants you inside the Spencer Mansion. So give him what he wants — go in."

"But what he's after is combat data. You fighting his bio-organic monsters."

"You go in, fire a few shots, make some noise, let him record whatever he needs."

"And then?" Jill pressed.

"Then?" Leon smiled.

"Then he puts on his grand tragic death scene."

"You pull out before the explosion. And I'll be there to give him a little surprise right when he thinks he's home free."

Leon had it all mapped out.

An old fox like Wesker, killing him outright was cleaner, sure, but it was also a waste. Far better to put him on a leash.

All he needed was that one window: Wesker at his most vulnerable, playing dead, guard completely down. One bite, and he'd force-splice into the man's neural network.

A top-tier operative with elite tactical instincts and a spy's brain was 10,000 times more useful than those Tyrants that only knew how to punch through walls.

And Chris's crew? Saving them was pure upside.

These people were the ceiling of what ordinary humans could do in a fight. Weapons mastery. Tactical proficiency most soldiers never reached.

Out in the apocalypse, his own guys, Shawn, Merle, were mean enough. But their foundations were thin. The bio-battlefield kept getting more complex, and they were starting to fall behind.

With the S.T.A.R.S. connection locked in, the prison's defense and tactical training programs would finally have a real backbone.

"This sounds like a tightrope act."

Barry wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You said yourself — that mansion is full of the real thing."

"With me there, you won't die." Leon straightened up.

"Rick. Take them to the armory, let them pick out whatever feels right. Get them some hot food too. You need a full stomach before you go wreck a place."

Rick nodded and waved for Chris's group to follow him out of the lab.

The door clicked shut. The room went quiet.

Leon turned. His gaze landed on William, still hunched over at the side bench, scrubbing petri dishes with methodical, miserable dedication.

"Stop scrubbing. Come over here."

William dropped the brush, dragged his hands across his lab coat, and shuffled over.

He'd had a few days in this basement to read the room. His new boss didn't play by anyone else's rules.

"Boss?" William rubbed his hands together, posture low. "What do you need?"

"You mentioned before that you improved the T-Virus," Leon said, watching him.

The moment the conversation turned to his field, William's whole defeated slouch evaporated. His spine straightened like someone had pulled a string.

"Of course. Marcus's original T-Virus was crude work. High fatality rate. Infection turned people straight into mindless walkers with nothing left upstairs."

"My improved version cut the rejection response down dramatically. Much safer across the board."

He tilted his head. "Why? Do you need it?"

"How long for mass production?" Leon asked.

"Give me the raw materials and the equipment and I can start anytime."

"This lab isn't Umbrella's core facility, but it's more than enough to get the job done."

"Good." Leon gave the order. "Find the time to produce a batch. The men under me have plenty of nerve, but their bodies need work."

"The original leech virus strain is too aggressive. Without Murphy's attenuated vaccine in their systems, they won't survive it."

"Your safe version is exactly what I need to bring them up to speed."

Going forward, Shawn and the others were only going to have a harder time against mutants. Upgrading his people's combat capability wasn't optional anymore, it was urgent.

And William's expertise was already sitting right here.

"No problem. Leave it to me."

William agreed without hesitation. Then his expression dimmed.

"Though... I don't even have an assistant right now. Marcus just has me washing dishes all day."

Leon didn't bother with the complaint. He dropped a bombshell instead.

"Do good work, and I'll go pick up your daughter. Bring back the G-Virus while I'm at it."

William's eyes went wide. His breathing spiked.

He stared at Leon, lips shaking.

"Really? You're not playing me?"

"I don't break my word." Leon clapped him on the shoulder.

"There's more. John's hard drive is already in my possession."

"Once we have the G-Virus back, you, Candice, Marcus, and Rebecca are going to sit down together and fuse the G-Virus with the gene recombination data off that drive."

"I want to see what you can actually build when you have everything you need."

William's hands were rubbing together so fast they could have started a fire.

"Brilliant. That's brilliant." His voice was climbing. "John was a rigid engineer, sure, but his work on neural connections and gene sequence recombination was genuinely exceptional."

"If you combine his data with the G-Virus's unlimited evolutionary potential..." He stopped. His eyes had gone somewhere else entirely. "God. That would be the perfect creation."

He shook his head.

"No. Not perfect creation. A brand-new species. Something that leaves humanity behind completely."

The man had already left the room. Some private, ecstatic place in his own head.

"All right. Dial it back," Leon cut in.

"Go put together some portable compounds we can use in the field. Last thing I need is a supply problem when things go sideways."

An hour later, Leon stopped by to check on Ashley.

No signs of her waking up. He looked at her for a moment, then made the call.

Time to move.

Alpha Team needed to be in position. Every minute they delayed was another minute Wesker had to start wondering.

He still did what he always did first. Swung by the water pit and topped off his leeches.

That thing was genuinely useful in a fight.

One time and it had its hooks in you.

The Scorpion King, on the other hand, no.

Leon had clocked it by now. The thing startled at its own shadow. Jumpy, skittish, a bundle of instinctive panic. Better off staying here as a mount, that was actually a perfect fit for it.

Taking it to the mansion was a fantasy. Whether it could even make the flight was questionable. And if it somehow got there, it would just be dead weight against a Tyrant.

Wind tore across the prison yard. The helicopter rotors churned up a wall of sand and grit.

Leon had switched to a dark gray tactical jacket, two large-caliber pistols strapped along his thighs.

Ada walked beside him, her black form-fitting combat suit cutting a precise silhouette against the gray sky. She carried a silver temperature-controlled security case in one hand, the container for the G-Virus.

Chris and the others had eaten. They'd changed into the fresh gear Rick sourced for them, and the transformation was visible. Tactical vests loaded heavy with magazines and fragmentation grenades. Barry had a large-caliber grenade launcher slung over one shoulder and was dragging a bulky, mysterious case behind him, its weight evident in every step.

"This place is better stocked than our precinct ever was." Barry ran a hand along the launcher's barrel, looking genuinely pleased with himself.

"It should be." Leon swung up into the helicopter cabin. "We basically stripped Atlanta bare."

Up front, Brad was running through his instrument checks, already sweating.

"All right, people — where are we headed first? Fort Benning or the Spencer Mansion?"

"The mansion," Leon said.

"Handle that first."

The helicopter lifted off and banked hard, racing toward Fort Benning.

➤ Next: Putting on an Act