Meanwhile.
Atop the communications tower on The Island, the sea wind was still cold as a blade.
Sprawled face-down on the freezing alloy floor, Albert Wesker's fingers twitched faintly. A sharp, throbbing pain radiated from the back of his skull. The sheer humiliation of having been brained with a blunt instrument snapped this would-be conqueror's consciousness back into focus.
"Damn it... bastard..."
Wesker pushed himself up through gritted teeth and reached, out of habit, for his signature black sunglasses. His hand closed on empty air. Then he noticed the sensation at the top of his head was... wrong. The impeccably groomed blond hair, every strand arranged with perfect precision... was gone.
His hand froze in mid-air. His fingertips trembled as they traced the smooth, round, cold, frictionless dome that was now the top of his skull.
"STAR... FIRE!"
A roar loaded with absolute fury and world-ending murder shot from the top of the tower straight into the sky.
But Wesker was still Wesker. The rage lasted only a dozen seconds before he forced a sliver of pathological composure back. With a frozen face, he pulled a backup pair of sunglasses from a hidden pocket of his tactical vest and jammed them on, hiding those cold-blooded, vertically slit pupils.
Wesker growled curses through his teeth as he strode to a lift platform at the edge of the tower roof. Off the platform and a short walk later, a sleek black helicopter came into view. It was the escape vehicle he'd originally prepared for Ada. In the cockpit, the pilot was already slumped unconscious over the instrument panel. Wesker yanked him out and took the seat himself.
He turned the ignition. The engine rose into a low hum. The body of the helicopter lifted slightly, beginning its takeoff cycle.
Slowly, he raised his left hand and pressed the encrypted detonation command on his tactical watch. If he couldn't have the 'Amber', he'd bury everyone on this island, and the bastard who'd humiliated him, down in hell together.
The moment the command went through, heavy detonations began ripping along the distant coastal support pillars.
He twisted the ignition switch, engine humming low. The helicopter hovered, edging into takeoff.
Then, three meters off the ground.
"Beep. Beep. Beep. Warning: fuel pressure insufficient."
"Warning: engine fuel supply cut off."
The rich rumble of the engine went from a full-throated roar to a few dry, choked coughs, like a duck being strangled, and then cut out entirely.
The helicopter slammed back down to the deck. The impact rattled Wesker's head and blurred his vision.
"What the hell?"
Wesker pounded wildly at the control panel.
On the main display, a bright red icon flashed frantically. The fuel tank sensor. The readout wasn't in the red zone. It was a red so deep it was almost black. 0.0%.
"AAAAAH!"
Wesker's eyes nearly split open. One punch shattered the instrument panel.
Meanwhile, the entire communications tower had begun to tilt as its foundation gave out.
Perched high on a hoisting beam overlooking the cargo yard, Ada's beautiful eyes narrowed, and she stopped her withdrawal toward her designated pickup point. Those were charges she'd set herself, but it wasn't yet time for them to go off. A second later, the flashes chained from the outer ring inward like a string of firecrackers, and she understood instantly. Wesker had overridden her detonation logic and was prepping to clean her up along with everyone else.
Watching the shoreline being swallowed fast by a ring of fire, Ada curved her red lips in a self-mocking smile. Looked like that red jet ski wasn't going to get used after all.
Down below in the center of the cargo yard, the ground shook harder and harder. Leon watched the mushroom clouds rising in the distance, and his face changed. "The explosions started from the perimeter. Someone's trying to trap us in here to die."
Ashley clutched at the hem of Leon's shirt. Luis stared fixedly at the blasts. Sherry and Becky instinctively turned to look at Ryan.
Ryan stood in the rubble, listening to that shrieking "bald man's roar" coming from the distance, and not only did he not panic, he actually laughed out loud. "Got his new sunglasses on already? Quick reflexes."
He turned to the stunned Leon and the others and snapped his fingers with a flourish. "Everyone, the countdown just started. Time to sprint. I don't pay overtime for anyone who misses the ride home."
"Ryan! Stop laughing! The exits are all collapsed, where's any ride coming from?" Leon shouted urgently.
Ryan casually glanced at his multifunction tactical watch, then lifted his head and looked up through the shredded dome at the rolling columns of smoke above, counting softly. "Three. Two. One."
WHOOOMM.
An engine note far heavier than any regular helicopter, carrying a high-frequency vibration, cut over every explosion around them without warning. The thick smoke at the top of the cargo hall was torn apart by a violent downdraft. A pitch-black heavy tiltrotor, crimson Star Fire insignia painted on its flank, burst through the clouds like a black bird of prey and hung brazenly in the air right over the cargo yard.
Two rotary cannons under its belly spat fire, reducing surrounding obstacles to powder.
The hydraulic bay door opened, and a tall figure appeared at the edge of the cabin, silhouetted against the flames. Crisp black Star Fire special operations uniform, short blond hair flying in the downdraft, sharp and striking.
"Jill?" Leon blurted out.
Jill's voice came through the radio, crystal clear down below. "Everyone, on board. Carlos and Shadow Force have already pulled back to international waters. This place is about to become a new underwater tourist attraction."
Several rappel cables dropped. Leon, Luis, and the two sisters clipped in fast. Ryan didn't go up right away. He turned his head toward the teetering hoisting beam above and to the side, where Ada stood, her silhouette swaying in the firelight.
"What's the matter, Auntie Wong? Not happy with the severance package Wesker gave you, thinking about sticking around to watch the fireworks?" Ryan called up.
Ada gave a soft snort and fired her grappling gun in one smooth motion. The line traced a perfect arc through the air and landed her precisely next to Ryan. "If there's a more luxurious private ride available, no need for me to go playing around on that little jet ski. Although, Boss Ryan, your flight's punctuality could use some work."
"Special circumstances. A certain someone's skull was so shiny it threw off our navigation." Ryan grinned wickedly as he wrapped an arm around Ada's waist and grabbed the last cable. "Hold on tight, we're going up."
At Jill's signal, the cables retracted fast. The final wave of core detonations blew up beneath them. The black tiltrotor gave a domineering roar and, a second before the mushroom cloud rose, shot off like a streak of black lightning, piercing the pre-dawn dark and vanishing across the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.
Inside the cabin, the aroma of hot coffee cut through the gunpowder smell. Jill watched Ryan and Ada walk in side by side, arched an eyebrow, and gave a not-quite smile. "Ryan, I figured you were only bringing back photography. I didn't expect a beautiful 'business partner' as well."
Ryan took a coffee and handed one to Ada, grinning shamelessly. "Well, Ada's our company's 'senior nanny'. Can't exactly leave her stranded in a furnace."
Ada sipped her coffee and looked out the window. It was almost as though she could see, far off on the horizon, Wesker sitting in his helicopter, letting out the most anguished roar of his entire life.
Ryan leaned against the cabin wall, watching the points of fire shrink smaller and smaller out the window, and said softly, "Baldy, next time we meet, I'll bring you a wig."
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