Resident Evil: Underworld by S. D. Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

the cove when David had asked.
    “You kick ass, ’becca. If I were a few years younger, I think it might be love,” he said, and was pleased at her blushing, grinning reaction. She was probably smarter than him by half, but she was also a teenage girl—and if he remembered correctly from back in his day, teenage girls weren’t adverse to hearing about how cool they were.
    “Shut up,” she said, her tone of voice telling him that he had, in fact, thoroughly embarrassed her— and that she didn’t mind.
    A moment of comfortable silence rested between them, the last dregs of the nightmare fading as the cabin pressure fluctuated, the plane on its way down. In a few minutes, they’d be in Utah, of all places. David had already suggested that they get to a hotel and start making plans, that they would go in tomorrow night.
    Go in, get the book, and then get the hell out. Easy… except hadn’t that pretty much been the plan for the cove?
    John decided that once they landed, he wanted to do a little more talking with Trent. He was up for the mission, for getting the book and throwing a few wrenches into Umbrella’s works in the process—but he still wasn’t happy with Trent’s rather selective information. Yeah, the man was helping them— but why so weird about it? And why hadn’t he told them what their Europe team was doing, or who was running White Umbrella, or how he’d known to put his own pilot on their charter?
    Because he’s on some power trip, that’s why. Control freak.
    That didn’t seem quite right, but John couldn’t think of any other reason that their Mr. Trent was being such a secret agent wannabe spy. Maybe if he got his arm twisted a little, he’d be more forthcoming…
    “John—I know you don’t like him, but do you think he’s right about this being a snap job? I mean, what if this Reston won’t give it up? Or what if—what if something else happens?”
    She was trying to sound professional, her tone light and easy, but the troubled look deep in her mild brown eyes gave her away.
    Something else. Something like a viral spill, something like a crazy scientist, something like biomonsters getting loose. Like the something that always happens around Umbrella…
    “If I have anything to say about it, the only thing that will go wrong is that Reston will shit himself and the smell will be terrible,” he said, and was again rewarded with a grin from the young woman.
    “You’re a dork,” she said, and John shrugged, thinking how easy it was to make the girl smile—and wondering if it was such a good idea to get her hopes up.
    A few moments later the small plane touched down easily and for the first time, the pilot used the intercom system. He told them to remain seated until the plane had stopped and then clicked off, not bothering with the usual crap about how he hoped they’d enjoyed their flight or what the current temperature was; for that, at least, John was grateful. The small craft rolled across the tarmac, finally coming to a gentle stop, the team standing and stretching and putting on their coats.
    As soon as he heard the outer door pop, John stepped past Rebecca and walked to the front of the cabin, determined not to let Trent get off before they’d had a chance to chat. He pushed through the curtain, a cold wind blowing into the small passage behind the cockpit, and saw that he was too late. The pilot, Evans, was standing in the doorway to the cockpit by himself.
    Somehow, Trent had managed to slip away in the few seconds it took John to walk through the tiny plane. The metal stairs that had been pushed to the outside of the craft were empty—and even though John took the steps two at a time, hitting the ground in less than a heartbeat, there was still nothing to see in the endless stretch of tarmac, and no one at all except for the man who’d brought the stairs out. When asked about Trent, the airport worker insisted that the first person off the plane had been John