4 months before the Raccoon City incident…
"Where?" asked Will. Across the table from him Sam leaned back in his chair and exhaled.
"Rockfort Island" said Sam.
"Where?" repeated Will. Sam spun around in his chair, it creaked uneasily under his bulk. He was the manager of Human Resources for Umbrella Corporations public liaison building in Raccoon City. They were a special department, tasked with misinforming the populace about the corporations activities.
Sam's office was dimly lit, his desk burdened with stacks of papers which formed a sort of mountain range. Behind him Will could see his office window, shuttered, dust particles dancing in the sunlight that filtered through the cracks in the blinds. Sam turned back to Will, adjusting his bulging white shirt, he could see body hair poking out of the straining button holes. He placed a folder on a space on the table and slid it over to Will's side.
"See, the thing is, some of the more senior members of staff here are not particularly impressed by the way you're handling your duties," Sam explained "so you're being re-assigned."
Will narrowed his eyes at Sam and leaned over, pulling the folder off the table, sending a small cloud of dust billowing into the air.
"What am I doing wrong?" Will asked.
"What are you doing right? You're in charge of controlling the flow of information about the B.O.W attacks around the city right? How then are the reports still coming through in the papers and the news?"
Will sighed, thumbing through the papers in the folder. He wasn't in the mood to concentrate however contained within the manila was some sort of sea chart, with a small island circled in red marker.
"It's not my fault," Will said "It's just becoming too much to handle."
"It's your job to handle it but you're clearly not capable in that role."
Will slammed the folder onto the desk, sending more dust into the air. Sam cleared his throat, the summer heat causing a bead of sweat to roll down his forehead and onto his swollen cheek. The atmosphere in the office was stuffy and humid, the kind of heat that almost acts like a tangible entity, trying to suppress and overpower you."So what the hell is this…Rockfort Island?" Will asked impatiently. He crossed his legs, his suit pants already damp with sweat. He regretted wearing a full suit today, but it wasn't time to worry about that now.
"It serves a couple of purposes. Umbrella uses it as a Prison and Training Facility." Sam replied, opening a drawer in his desk and rummaging inside of it.
"What am I going to be doing there?" Will asked, leaning over to see what Sam was doing. His smell was repulsive, the stinging twang of body odor and cheap cologne. Sam made a small noise and pulled some sheets of paper out of his drawer then placed them on the table, fishing a pen out of a filthy mug near him and placing it on top.
"You'll be working a basic administrative role in the Training Facility. Please sign here and we'll discuss your travel arrangements." Will sat, looking at Sam.
"You can't honestly just send me away."
"We can" replied Sam, leaning as far as he could over his own feculent gut. "You know we can Will and you know what we can do to you if you don't sign this here piece of paper don't you?"
Will sat for a moment more. He did know what Umbrella could do, he knew they had valuable secrets they would prefer to remain clandestine, so he thought it best to sign the agreement. Will leaned over, picking the pen up and signing where Sam indicated. Sam snatched up the forms and slid them back into the drawer, closing it silently. He cleared his throat.
"Now…" a ringing sound startled him. Sam fished under a pile of papers, Will watched them float to the ground as they were knocked off of the table. Sam grasped the receiver of a phone, previously buried beneath a pile of disorganized paperwork. He conferred softly with someone on the other line and then hung up the receiver. Turning to Will a smile spread across his cracked lips.
"That was the transit department. I'd say you best pack up your things, you have a plane to catch."