Parker didn't like this mission.

It was too familiar. The various BOWs were too much like the creatures that were on the Queen Zenobia. Scarmilgliones, Hunters, that hunter subtype Quint and Keith were talking about when they'd gotten back from Valkoinen Mokki, Draghignazzo, and the various forms of ooze were all around here. Most of them were caged, luckily, but a few had gotten out. They'd dispatched a couple, but there were probably more around here. Add to it the general desertion of the building, so it was strange.

Of course, Parker and his current mission partner, a young upstart named Sarah Carlson, were both working in different sections of the building. This was supposed to be a quick mission. They were supposed to arrest a terrorist by the name of Leonard Crenshaw, someone known in the black market for dealing in the t-Abyss virus.

The virus somehow wasn't destroyed on the ship, leading him to think Jessica had something to do with it. And it would be his fault, for letting her get away. But there was no point in moping about it. Moping wouldn't fix anything.

He swore quietly as he tried the doorknob. It was locked. Now, the question was where to find the key. Knowing his (and, it seemed, just about every other anti-bioterrorist task member's) luck, it would be some drawn out process involving at least one or two puzzles along the way. These damn terrorists loved that, didn't they? How they even get from point A to point B with all their BOWs running around and everything locked was beyond him.

He glanced at the doorknob, memorizing the color of the metal. The room was labeled "Room 329" and there wasn't a unique pattern on the door or doorknob. Afterward, he set off to look for the damn key. He backtracked to the room he was in before, some sort of archive. It was filled with bookshelves, stacks of paper lying about on the pair of tables. There were also sliding file cabinets lining the walls, so those would have to be searched.

Listening for the sounds of any BOWs, he put his pistol away and started searching for some key that was steel grey or had a tag on it saying "Room 329." He quickly moved through the file cabinet, ignoring the paperwork within. From a glance, it looked like tax forms and funding information. It would be important later, he thought.

His communication's link crackled to life. "Hey, Parker?"

"Yeah?" Parker stopped for a moment.

"Where are you? Have you found the guy?"

"No. I'm currently searching for a key, though. You haven't seen one, steel, possibly labeled 329?"

"No. Parker, I think the information we got was fake."

"What makes you say that?" Parker started searching again, moving down to the next cabinet.

"This place looks abandoned. I haven't seen anyone on my end and the loose BOWs sorta imply it, you know."

"It's possible they left their men to be killed by the BOWs, but most of those things are still locked up." He moved to the next cabinet. "But we would need to contact HQ about what to do next, if we can't find this bastard. They'll need an SOU unit down here, anyway. Too many BOWs in here and this place so close to a city. All of them will need to be killed." Again, there was no key, just papers. He slammed it shut. This was starting to be a waste of time. "How far have you gone, Sarah?"

"I think I'm on the eighth floor. I hate it when stairwells are unmarked."

"Yeah, I can see why it's a problem." Parker walked over to the table and shifted the papers on it around. Again, more money-related papers, along with some files about genetics that he didn't understand. There was a small clunk as something fell to the floor.

"So, any idea where you're headed with that room?"

Parker crouched down and looked under the table. There was a small key lying there. He reached over and grabbed it. "No idea. We have to look everywhere in order to find him in this building."

"Assuming he's still here or was even here in the first place," Sarah said. Her tone coming in over the headset was rather sarcastic.

Parker stood up. "Look, I need to get going. I'll contact you if I find anything. Out."

"Out."

Parker switched his communication link off. He examined the key. It was the same color, but it didn't have any markings or etchings on it to indicate what room it was. He turned it over. It had a serial number "18329-2893," which was utterly useless to him in determining where the key went. He headed out of the room and down the hallway. It was rather quiet, the only things he heard being the sound of his footsteps and the whirring of machinery.

He walked to the door. He put the key and turned it, it clicking. He opened the door, grabbing his pistol with his free hand.

It was a computer room of some sort. Parker looked around. There were rows of computers, with chairs pulled up to each of them. The whir of electronics running was louder in here, but he noticed someone working at a farther terminal. The man working ran his fingers through his vibrant red hair, then started typing.

Parker closed the door behind him and walked over to the man. He didn't want to jump to conclusions about who it was, nor did he want to startle the person. As he got closer, he noted the clothes the man was wearing. It was an FBC uniform, sans the left armband.

"Raymond?"

The man turned to look at him, moving away from the computer a bit as he did so. Raymond quickly regained his composure and adjusted his tie. "Parker? What are you doing here?"

"Here to arrest Leonard Crenshaw. What are you doing here?"

"My employer also wants him found. I don't know the specifics of what they want with him, though." Raymond shook his head and gestured to the computer. "I've been looking at the schematics of the building."

"And?" Parker looked over to the screen. It seemed to be a diagram of the building, split off and labeled in sections. There was text that he couldn't quite tell, because of how

"There's an anti-biohazard system, similar to Harvardville's WilPharma facility before it was destroyed. I have been there before and it did contain an outbreak, back when that affair at that airport happened."

"That doesn't help us right now." Parker rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you, Parker." Raymond looked around. "Where's your partner?"

"How'd you know I had a partner?" Parker crossed his arms.

"The BSAA almost never sends in agents alone, except in very specific circumstances. Doing so asks for trouble. Where is the person?"

"Eighth floor." The way Raymond looked at him worried Parker. "...Why?"

Raymond went back to the computer and started typing. "That whole floor has been compromised. It has a variation of a BOW that is called Rubicante, but I have no idea what that would be. It says something about it being a higher threat level, something on par with a Dragig- I can't pronounce that name..."

Parker turned on his communications link. "Sarah, are you there?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was quieter than before.

"If you are on the eighth floor, get the hell out of there."

"Parker. Be quiet." She was speaking very slowly and hardly audible. "There's something here and I think it could wake up."

Parker spoke more quietly, "Get out of there. Backtrack if you can. I'm headed up there now."

"Got it. Out."

Parker switched the headset off again. He scowled and shook his head.

"What's going on?"

"She's a newer member of the BSAA and she ends up finding the extremely dangerous, loose BOW." Parker walked to the door. "Are you coming with?"

Raymond nodded and followed him.

A/N:

As always, I appreciate constructive criticism.

This takes place a decent amount of time after Revelations. And, yes, I'm writing multiple fics. I'm feeling in the fanfiction writing mood, actually, so...

-The Sleep-Deprived Writer.