8:00 a.m. Training Room 7...

Vincent was slightly amazed by the transformation Wesker had made since yesterday. The blue trainee uniform had been replaced by a black combat uniform complete with her last name emblazoned over the left breast, the Umbrella logo over the right. The hair was still slicked back, but  sunglasses were now firmly sitting over her eyes. A silver .50 caliber D.E. magnum was resting in a black shoulder holster situated for a right hand draw and a 9mm Beretta was in a thigh holster on her left. Vincent knew that meant she was a proficient shot both left and right handed. If anything he thought she looked more dangerous now, then when she’d been waving a modified MP-5 around.

“I don’t give a damn how good you think you are. I could care less what you think you know. I’m here to show you just what is going to kill you.”

Alex moved across the room and hit the lights. A few seconds later a picture popped up on the wall in front of them. Vincent stared in silent horror. The thing had been human once and still did resemble a human is some twisted way. The flesh looked rotted and ready to fall off and the clothes were torn and covered in blood, not to mention a few other suspicious substances.

“This is a zombie.”

Seconds after she said it a laugh reverberated through the room.  There was a loud crash and the laughter died abruptly. Vincent glanced at the chair that now lay near the front of the room, far from it’s starting place at the rear of the room.

“Now that I have your attention.”  

The lights came back on and Vincent immediately noticed that Wesker was not pleased. She leaned against her desk, arms crossed, and looking for all the world like she would like nothing better than to shoot each and every one of them. He suspected the guns wouldn’t have blanks this time.

“So you think this is all a joke?”

“Well, I mean zombies?” Booker glanced around at the other trainees, who nodded in agreement. “It just sounds like a bad horror movie is all.”

“Does it now?” Alex’s eyebrow arched sharply, just peeking over the top of the glasses.  “Very well, come with me.”

Wesker spun around and headed out the door. After a few moments hesitation, everyone slowly got to their feet and followed. They marched down the hall single file, Wesker in the lead, Vincent bringing up the rear. They passed trainees and other teachers, all of them moved aside to let their little troop pass. A short time later they all crammed into an elevator. The trip was short and the elevator pinged to a stop.

“Before we get out, let me warn you.” Wesker craned her head around to look at them. “Touch nothing!”

Before anyone could ask, she marched out of the elevator and down the hallway to a rather unassuming door on her right. She didn’t even bother to knock, just pushed the door open and walked in. The trainees glanced at each other then followed suit. Vincent took a deep breath before walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. The room was rather large, with several long tables sitting at it’s center. Medical and scientific equipment littered the tables and sat against the walls. The wall directly across from the door was endowed with a large glass window that stretched the length of the room.  Meanwhile a young man in a lab coat walked over to where Wesker was standing.

“Ah! Alex, how are you?” Dr. Kale smiled and shook Alex’s hand. “When I heard you had a new class, I knew it wouldn’t be long before you came to see me.”

“I’m doing well. You’re looking particularly good Mike.” Alex returned the handshake, pushing the sunglasses to the top of her head. “I got the usual static about horror movies. How many do you have?”

“Total?” Dr. Kale snatched a clipboard off the wall and looked over the papers pinned to it. “Looks like fifteen. But since I knew you’d be showing up I moved eight of them into the observation room for you.”

“Always one step ahead of me, aren’t you Mike?”

Vincent was utterly amazed by this exchange, amazed and somewhat angry  that anyone could treat life with such an utter lack of respect. His face fell into a grim mask of determination and hate. Wesker noticed but said nothing, instead she turned her attention to the so called observation room.

“Alright boys, gather round and take a look.”

The trainees moved forward, while Alex watched them closely. This small ‘test’ would tell her more about them than a million psych exams. Marks was the first one actually brave enough to put his face close to the glass. Suddenly something lunged at the glass, slamming into it with a loud thump. Marks screeched and stumbled backwards. Alex watched closely as both Watts and Smith moved a step or two closer to him. It was an unconscious act, but it said a lot. Alex gave a brief nod, perfect for bodyguards. Watannabe, Colt, and Smith had also moved aside, stationing themselves a little to the right of Watts and Smith. They looked sickened, but held their ground, perfect for lab security if she ever saw it. Then there was her mysterious Mr. Breece. He hadn’t moved so much as an inch when the zombie had lunged at the glass and his facial expression had never changed. That nerve was what made a U.B.C.S. agent what they were.

“Name: Zombie. Classification: Experimental Subject. Identification Number: B.O.W. ZB-021” Her tone was bland and matter-of-fact. “These are the most prevalent of the B.O.W. you will encounter.”

“What the hell is it?” Watts asked, stilling keeping a close eye on it.

“It was a human, infected by the T-Virus.”

She kept her answers short. The questions they asked would also tell her about these would be U.B.C.S. agents. What a person wants to know, what kind of knowledge they want to gain is a very good insight into a person’s character.

“What causes a zombie, I mean how does the T-Virus work?” Colt looked interested by wary.

“The T-Virus breaks down cellular function. It raises the temperature of the body until it has completely shorted out the brain. The zombie is left with only the most basic of instincts. It’s cares nothing for procreation, shelter, or territory. I has only one single need, one single drive…food.”

“How dangerous are they?” Smith had asked the question, and Watts had nodded in agreement.

“By themselves, they aren’t that much of a threat. Characteristically they are slow, stupid, and uncoordinated. However a group or pack of them could take down one heavily armed man exceptionally easy. I suggest you do not allow yourself to become corned or surrounded.”

“How do you get infected?”

Alex glanced at Booker.  “A single bite, even a small scratch is enough to transfer the virus. Of course the air borne T-Virus is just as deadly, but it dissipates quickly. Most zombies are caused by attacks, not the air borne. Though in most U.B.C.S. situations the initial zombies are created by a leak of the T-Virus.”

“Is there some kind of antidote or something?” Watannabe asked.

Alex smiled lab security would worry about such things. Though it surprised her that Marks hadn’t burst out with that question right off the bat.

“Once infected you have about one hour to find the anti-virus. After an hour you might as well put a gun to your head and pull the trigger. Though the time constraints for total overtake of the body varies from person to person, the average time between infection and zombie is roughly two to three hours. Some people take longer some shorter. It all depends on the severity of the bite, amount of times bitten, body weight, personal health, ect…”

“How do I kill it?”

Alex turned her attention to Breece. Direct, to the point, no frills. Not, how do you kill it? No, how do I kill it?

“Massive damage to the brain or severing the spinal cord. Simple answer…shoot it in the head or break it’s neck. Observe.”

Alex opened the door to the observation room and closed it behind her. There was a soft hiss as the special bio-hazard decontamination room sealed. Once the room was equalized the second door opened, allowing her entry into the main part of the observation room. She stepped into the room, watching the zombie with wariness and interest. The other seven zombies were penned away by the door at the far side of the room. Mike knew exactly how she ran this exercise and no more than one zombie at a time would be allowed into the observation room. She lifted her hand and tapped lightly on the glass. Mike nodded and flipped a nearby switch.
Two shots echoed in the small room, both of them puncturing what should be the zombie’s heart. The zombie let out a loud groan and fell to the floor, seemingly dead. The reaction from the viewing audience was a mixture of relief and triumph. Vincent, however, looked unimpressed with the display and still had his attention firmly fixed on the so-called dead zombie. Rightly so, for only seconds later the zombie moaned again and struggled to stand.

“As you can see a heart shot does little to detour this creature.  A head shot on the other hand…”

The magnum’s loud report made several of the trainees wince. The bullet slammed into the zombie’s head, blowing a whole the size of an apple out the back. It hit the ground like a sack of potatoes and made no other movements. Alex replaced the magnum and walked back into the decontamination room. A few seconds later she emerged into the lab.

“Shoot a zombie anywhere else and all you are doing is slowing it down and wasting ammo. In an outbreak situation a waste of ammo could kill you.” Alex pulled the magnum, ejected the clip, ejected the shell in the pipe, and held up the gun. “.50 caliber Desert Eagle Magnum. My personal weapon of choice. This particular gun is good for stopping most of the B.O.W. you will come across” Alex then held up the shell and tossed it to Vincent. “Teflon coated hollow points. Those rounds can go through Kevlar like a knife through butter. They leave a large hole upon exit. I suggest you get yourself a couple boxes.”

Vincent nodded slowly perhaps understanding what she was implying. He tossed the shell back, which she caught easily. She reloaded the magnum and shoved it back into her shoulder holster.

“Listen very carefully to me. Each of you are going in there and shoot a zombie. If you can’t handle that you might as well forget going on to the U.B.C.S. If you are bitten while in there, then you can forget about going on to the U.B.C.S., and you’d better hope the anti-virus works.” Alex smirked as Marks turned several shades of white. Slowly she unbuttoned her sleeve and pushed the sleeve up to her elbow. “I doubt any of you are as lucky as I am to be immune to the effects of the T-Virus.”

Every one, except Vincent and Mike, starred in awe at the large bite scar on her forearm. She carefully rolled the sleeve back down and buttoned it. It was a warning to be careful, that she hoped each of them would take to heart. After taking a few seconds for that to sink in, Alex cracked her neck, slipped her sunglasses over her eyes, and pulled the berretta.

“Who’s first?”

30 minutes later…

Alex leaned against the wall, holding several gauze pads to her neck. Marks was still in the observation room and would remain there till that little bastard rotted. She had anticipated problems with him, but she had not expected him to got completely nuts on her. She’d started with Watts and had worked her way all the way down to Breece. Each of them had gone in there with her and killed a zombie. There had been varying waits for the shots and different facial expressions, but they had each done the deed. She’d saved Marks for last and had even given him the option of not go in. But Marks had the type of gung-ho personality that wouldn’t let him admit just how inept he was. So in they’d gone and everything had gone to hell the moment the zombie had shambled out the door.

He’d emptied the berretta in a matter of seconds and  after nine shots the zombie was still shambling toward them.  She reckoned that no more than two shots had actually hit the thing. Seeing the situation was going to deteriorate, she had pulled her magnum and was preparing to kill the zombie when Marks lost what little mind he had left.

The zombie was probably five feet away when he’d grabbed for the gun. Two shots had gone wild as they wrestled with the gun, then he’d somehow managed to wrench it out of her hands and fire at the zombie, wasting the remaining shots. After seeing that the zombie was still approaching he’d shoved her toward the thing and tried to escape through the decontamination room.

Mike had foreseen that little move and locked the de-com room down. Alex on the other hand had the distinct disadvantage of having been shoved, back first, into a very pissed and hungry zombie. The zombie had tried to clamp down on her neck and had in fact managed to graze her with it’s teeth.

That was when Alex lost her temper.

While the zombie had it’s arms locked around her neck, Alex had grabbed it by the head and given it a sharp twist. There was an audible craaaak and she dropped the now dead zombie to the floor. She then grabbed Marks by the back of the shirt, spun him around,  and slapped him so hard that blood had trickled from his lip. After doing that, she had simply tossed him aside and walked out of the observation room.

The alarms had been blaring by that time, telling everyone in the facility there was a bio-hazard leak. It had taken Mike 20 minutes to get everything under control. Alex had been infected, but she was no threat to anyone. It was well documented that she was immune to the virus and, consequently, could not infect anyone else. Marks on the other hand was infected, thanks to the blood that had been on her hands when she slapped him. So he’d been confined to the observation room and given the anti-virus, much to Alex’s distinct disapproval.

Alex sighed and shoved herself away from the wall, moving to stand in front of the trainees. They all, even Vincent, looked shell shocked.

“Let that be a warning to each of you.” Her eyes, free of the sunglasses, bored a hole into each of them. “Anything can happen on a mission, anyone can turn on you in a moment of panic, and remember this last piece of advice very very well…I am not someone with which to fuck.”

Each person slowly nodded, for the first time perhaps, understanding that despite her appearance Alexandra Wesker was dangerous. She gave a sharp nod.

“Alright then all of you head back to your rooms.” Her head then turned toward Vincent. “Except you Breece, you come with me.”

Alex left the room first, with Vincent trailing behind her. On their way back to the elevator, people still moved aside to let them pass. Though they may not have been conscious of doing it. It wasn’t as if they were stopping and moving aside, they merely kept walking but ever so slowly moved a bit closer to the wall. Vincent had heard all the stories. Her relationship with Albert Wesker, her long career in lab security, and finally her escape from Raccoon City. Despite his obvious hate and loathing of her position and Umbrella itself, he had to respect her abilities.

Wesker said nothing to him as the elevator ascended, and when it passed level B-2 he was starting to feel like a condemned prisoner. The elevator came to a stop and Wesker moved into the lobby, hesitantly Vincent followed her. He’d had no idea the upper level of the facility looked like this. The floors were an elegant shade of gray and white, done completely in marble. The staircase was also beautiful, with oak railings and a red carpet gracing the steps. Wesker still said nothing as she lead him across the lobby and through a door on the eastern side of the room. Vincent obediently followed.

The hallway was just as lovely and ornate as the lobby had been. Paintings hung on the walls and the lights, though electric, looked like converted gas lamps and cast a rather eerie glow onto the dark walls and equally dark carpeting. The place looked like any haunted house in every horror movie Vincent had ever seen.

After a few minutes they moved around a corner and reached the end of the hallway and a single door, from behind which came a very strange humming sound. Vincent recalled that they had only passed four other doors on their way here. Wesker pushed the door open and Vincent was immediately assaulted by some very loud music.  Wesker didn’t hurry to shut off the music, in fact it seemed to Vincent like she was drawing the whole experience out.

If it’s the last thing that I do, I will be the one that will escape from Hellview…and I will...

The music clicked off. Vincent was staring at Wesker from across the room , an expression of confusion gracing his face. Wesker grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the sound system and sat down at her desk. She pulled a lighter, the lighter, from her pocket and lit one of the cigarettes she’d pulled from the pack.

“Do you like CKY, Breece?” Her tone was normal, conversational even.

“Who?” Vincent was confused.

“You can sit down.” She gestured to a small chair near, what he supposed, was the bathroom. “CKY. I’m particularly fond of heavy metal/alternative/rock and so on. Killswitch Engage, Linkin Park, CKY. They have this one song, CKY that is, Escape from Hellview. Reminds me a great deal of Raccoon City.”

Vincent was so utterly confused at this point, it wasn’t even funny. Had Wesker really brought him all the way up here just to discuss her taste in music?

“Can we please cut the shit and get to the point?”

“Very well.” Wesker’s demeanor never changed. “I’m very interested in you Vincent. I’ve read your file, and as far as I’m concerned you would make a fine U.B.C.S. agent. Not just any U.B.C.S. agent, but for one of the on site teams we have here.”

Vincent could not believe it. That was it, that was what this whole farce was about? He wanted to laugh out loud, really he had never expected to make it this far, let alone all the way into the U.B.C.S.

“There is just one teeny tiny detail that bothers me.”

Wesker reached into a drawer and pulled out two files. She held them up her eyes gleaming and Vincent knew his cover had been blown. He literally fell into the chair, as Wesker laid the files on her knees and opened the top one.

“Parents dead. But that is not the tidbit of information that caught my attention.” She looked up her eyes swimming between triumph and sadness. “ Brother…Richard Aiken.”

Vincent Mathew Aiken practically wept. He had been so close to finding out about Umbrella, so very close. Now his one chance for vengeance was being taken away by the sister of the very man who had caused his brother’s death. The irony was not lost on him, nor was the fact that Fate was a complete bitch.

“How did you find out?” He stared at her, wondering how he could have come so far and tripped right at the finish line. “Those documents were perfect.”

“Indeed they were. Whoever made up your background did a fine job.” Alex leaned back slightly, twiddling with the files in her lap. “But it was you who made the mistake.”

“Me?”

“Yes. The way you looked at my lighter, the expression on your face when you heard my name. Both of those things raised my suspicions, not to mention passing my first exam so well. No one with your type of background could have done that, perhaps a slim few if they were lucky. Just little mannerisms, the way you carried yourself. I got interested, so I studied every aspect of your background.” Alex took a drag off her cigarette, and sighed. “I spent hours digging and found nothing. No connection to Raccoon at all. Then it suddenly popped into my head, R.P.D. Most people didn’t know about my brother, other than newspaper reports. Only S.T.AR.S. members would have known the truth, and only someone connected to the R.P.D. or the S.T.A.R.S. organization would have had that much reason to hate him. Although, I will admit there are few with Umbrella mourning his death.  Who did you talk to?”

“Chris.”

“I figured as much. You weren’t at the funeral, I would have remembered. In fact I doubt you ever came to Raccoon after the Spencer Incident, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I called Chris and he told me the whole story. I’d planned to come to Raccoon to find out the truth, but Chris said it was too dangerous, that Umbrella was watching them. I take it that was you?”

“It was. Though you should know that if it wasn’t for me that conversation would have been recorded, killing any chance of you getting this far.”

Vincent’s anger was immediate. “What, you think I should thank you?! You’re just as big a murderer as your conniving brother!”

“Listen to me very carefully Vincent, what my brother did was wrong. I can deal with the hate and your need for vengeance. But he is also dead, so I would suggest you not say such things to me in the future.”

“That doesn’t diminish the fact that both of you work for Umbrella. That he is in fact responsible for Richard’s death!”

“No, it doesn’t.”  Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, looking tired.  “Richard was a good man.”

“You knew him?” Vincent could not keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I did. I was liaison between Albert and William Birkin. Did Chris tell you Richard died saving his life?”

“Yes. So Alexandra, what are you going to do now?” He sounded tired and defeated.

“Not a damn thing.” Alex shoved the files back into her desk and slammed it closed.
“If you get caught it isn’t going to be by me.”

“Why? Why help me now?”

“Maybe I’m not the big bitch everyone makes me out to be. Or maybe I just want to see someone damaged by my brother reach some kind of peace. Or perhaps I just don’t give a damn.”

Vincent was so utterly confused by this turn of events he couldn’t even speak. Alexandra Wesker, sister of Albert Wesker, cold bitch, and golden child of Umbrella was giving him free reign to take Umbrella out? Either she was completely crazy or she was feeling guilty, maybe both.

“Just don’t expect any more help from me. I don’t want to wind up someone’s guinea pig in a T-Virus experiment.” Alex crushed her cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and stood up. “Good luck to you Vincent Aiken. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Vincent nodded slowly and slipped out the door. Alex dropped back into her chair, thinking. She had just allowed a mole within Umbrella to escape and had plans to elevate him to U.B.C.S. status. If anyone found out they would both be dead.
But, Vincent wasn’t the only family member she’d helped. Sicily Marks had been another person looking for vengeance. Sicily Marks was really Christina Kennedy, sister to a rookie police officer supposedly killed in the Raccoon City incident. Known well to Umbrella, neither Leon Kennedy, Claire Redfield, nor Sherry Birkin had perished in Raccoon City. Alex had sent her on her way, a member of the U.B.C.S. to be stationed at another facility. She’d given her a chance at vengeance, she could do no less for Vincent now.

Alex’s eyes strayed to the S.T.A.R.S. photo above her desk. Her eyes traveled over every face that stared out from the simple frame. Most of them were dead, some were fighting Umbrella, all had been betrayed by one man. Albert, her brother, had betrayed them and left her to clean up the messes that betrayal had wrought. Men and women forever changed by one man and his need for power and money.

Not only that but there was his betrayal to her. He had never said a single word about the Spencer mission or his abandoning Umbrella for another company. He’d turned her into what she was and then intended to leave her to fend for herself…

“God damn you Albert for forcing me into this position….damn you to hell.”