Sweating profusely, a young, tanned, kind-looking man shuffled through pages and pages of paper on top of a wooden oak desk. Donning white cargo pants, an olive, collared shirt, and a black cargo vest, he was obviously a soldier of some kind. His black combat boots scraped loudly on the white tiled floor, as he moved around to the other side of the desk,
"Come on…come on…it's gotta be here….gotta be here somewhere…" He murmured to himself in a South American accent. He was searching for something, and it was obvious that he did not want to be caught doing so. In the sterile office he was currently in, the light was off, and he was working by flashlight, very quickly, and very agitated. He turned around, sighing, and running his fingers through his hair,
"Damn it…where the hell could those files be?" He asked, shaking his head. He leaned back against a filing cabinet, and glanced down, obviously exasperated. Then he stiffened, and straightened himself, before crouching down in front of the cabinet. The bottom drawer, in scrawled cursive writing, was labeled "Arklay Mountains." This was the incident He had been talking about. Licking his lips, he pulled the file out and flipped through the manila folder quickly, his hands trembling a little. Moving his lips as he read, his brown eyes searched the document,
"George Trevor…Lisa Trevor….Jessica Trevor….Ozwell E. Spencer…yes…yes this is it….this is the report He wants! YES!" He said. He flipped through the document more furiously, this time locating a photo at the back. He picked it up,
"George Trevor…1968…Architect for Spencer Mansion in the Arklay Mountains…YES!" He said. Quickly pocketing the photo and one piece of paper that looked like a diary note, he shoved the file back into it's folder, and closed the bottom drawer just as the door to the dark office opened. He stiffened, and then sighed. He stood up in a resolved manner, and turned to face his apprehender,
"Oliveira…just what do you think your doing?" A male voice asked. Carlos swallowed, as the lights flickered on, and he stood face to face with Albert Wesker,
"I uh…dropped something in here earlier…when I was speaking with you, Wesker…I was just coming in to get it." He said. Wesker nodded,
"Forget something? Hmmm…then why were you searching for it with the lights, off?" He asked, arching an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest. Carlos glanced down, obviously searching for an answer,
"Actually…I was looking for my flashlight…yeah…that's it….I was searching for my flashlight…" He said, picking it up and clicking it off,
"I was just testing the battery…I didn't know if I had left it on or not. Thanks Wesker."
He said, and turned, moving past him, and out of the office. Wesker bit his cheek, obviously holding back a string of words he'd like to lash out at Carlos, but held in check. He grinned to himself, shaking his head, Carlos would get what was coming to him soon enough…he'd make sure of that…So what if he had been in his office after hours? He surely wouldn't know anything of his infiltration into the Raccoon City STARS to keep tabs on the Arklay facility…he doubted Carlos even knew that facility existed. He was just a lowly soldier…easily replaced. Too dumb to rise through the ranks and be involved in what was REALLY important to the Corporation. Wesker turned and locked his office after shutting off the light, and moved towards the doors of the facility. He was going home for the night, obviously tired of being around the facility. Meanwhile Carlos was already out the door, and heading towards his own home, provided by the corporation for their Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service Special Ops unit. The dorms for the Delta Platoon, Companies A and B were close by to the facility he was just at. He had to deal with people like Wesker quite often, because the Delta Platoon was commonly used for reconnaissance missions, like retrieving samples and what not for the Corporation. Sighing softly, he moved up the steps, punched in his soldier identification number, and moved inside the door. He wearily climbed the stairs to his bedroom, but his heart raced at the same time. He couldn't sleep yet. He had to deliver the information to Him. He would be SO proud. Carlos had only met Him once, and that had been all he needed to realize that this man was where his future really lay. Sighing, he booted up his computer, and pulled the diary piece and the picture from his pants pocket. Almost as soon as his computer had acquired network access to the internet around the Delta Platoon dorms, a message appeared on screen:
ACEKILLER: Did you find anything out today, Carlos? About the Corporation I mean…I'm telling you…they aren't up to anything good…you should disassociate yourself with them soon.
AgentCO: Yeah…I did actually…it turns out that the architect of one of the facilities, apparently in the Arklay mountains, was having the same suspicions you are…they ENCASED him in a tomb still living, because of his questions, and even took his daughter and wife hostage…I just read a report on it, but I couldn't grab the whole thing…this was way back in the 60's though…but I do have a picture of him, and a diary entry from him…you want me to scan it in for you?
ACEKILLER: You bet I do. Thanks Carlos. I appreciate all that your doing for the good of the world.
AgentCO: Yeah no problem. Only, your hunches better be right. Doing this stuff could ruin my reputation, and lose me my job…it's only because I believe in the good of the general public.
Carlos turned from his computer, slapping the diary page and photo onto the screen of his flatbed scanner, and pressed the button, letting the documents be scanned into the database. He then saved them, and e-mailed them to his associate, in Japan. It was only a few moments later that he received an answer,
ACEKILLER: My God Carlos…do you know what this means? A hidden lab? Various traps I didn't design? Trevor was onto something, and if what you read in that report is true, then they shut him up for it….Carlos…something is going on with the Umbrella Corporation that isn't good at all…I'm going to dig some more and see if I can find out more about the founders of the Corporation…then, I will avenge the Trevor family. Mark my words…they won't get away with this.
AgentCO: Yeah. Good luck…oh and hey…research the names 'Spencer', 'Ashford', and 'Marcus.' They all lent some kind of hand in the development of this company. One of them will have to lead you somewhere. I'm off to bed. Good night.
ACEKILLER: Nn. Oyasumi nasai.
With that, Carlos turned from his monitor, grabbed the picture and diary note from the scanner, and moved over to his bed, shoving the documents beneath his mattress. He then took off his shoes and climbed into his bed with a yawn. Tomorrow, he was certain, was going to be a big day for himself and Him. Closing his eyes, he flipped over, and drifted off to sleep, hoping that Mikhail and Nicholai weren't going to be involved in this in any way. He had grown to trust them both.