"What the- okay okay okay!" Scrambling, the mechanic threw switches, pulled plugs, turned wheels, and, panicking, finally snatched up the wrench and started smashing things until the whirr of the zeppelin's engines became a nasty grinding noise, then faded away altogether. "There! There, I think that was less than thirty, I- oh, fuck me." The mechanic stared helplessly at the two soldiers who were suddenly standing in the engine room's doorway, neither of whom looked very impressed with his handiwork. They raised their pistols at the traitor and fired in unison, then turned on Wesker as their former crewmate slumped to the floor, his overalls now stained with his own blood.