"I can't help it if she doesn't know how to fight." Frost said, lifting his boxing gloves into the air, trying to whisper while making his voice carry upwards. Chris Redfield leaned over the ring. "Come on, Frost. Be nice. Think about it. You could be doing paperwork right now instead of spending your time with-
"I never do my paper work."
"...What?"
"I never do my paper work." Frost repeated.
"Just... get over there will you."
"fine. OK! YOU! Red! We're going to fight! This is what you call a fist!"
"Be nice!" Chris yelled and turned back to Brad Vickers who had a towel around his neck and took a swig of water from his bottle.
"She's fitting in pretty well." he said, looking at Rebecca from afar.
"Wouldn't stand a chance in a fight, but her medical training is out of this world. I mean McCarthy was good... but shit, Chris. She's... good."
"Yeah, it almost makes me wish I was on Bravo." Chris grinned.
"What, you don't like my flying?"
"Way too choppy."
"hm." he nodded leaning over the ropes. The doors opened far across the gym, revealing two figures. One a short, pot bellied individual with the poorest complexion Chris had ever seen. The other was tall and sturdy. Both walked side by side, up to the boxing ring where the two men were resting.
"Why aren't you using the time I gave to you usefully, boys!"
"We've been here since 5, Chief."
"I want to see all of you working hard. I don't care if that's pushing papers or fighting in a ring. Do your job unless you want the Fire Department to humiliate you again."
"We've won three years in a row..."
The Chief looked at Wesker who simply shrugged.
"It's true." he said mildly, taking a sip of his coffee. He slowly made his way to the left of the room, leaving Irons to do what meddling he had dragged the Captain here to observe.
Irons had given them the day to brush up before the RPD vs RFD charity boxing match, which in Wesker's opinion was pointless. He had designed the training standards himself and no man with a fire hose and a hard hat would match up to it. Of course Irons took all the credit for it, but Wesker hardly worried over the matter. It's not like people couldn't tell from the the look of the man, that he never worked a hard day in his life.
Wesker came around the room, watching Frost trying to teach Rebecca how to come around the back with a choke hold. She was small framed in the first place. She would snap like a twig on the field.
"Lower." Wesker said behind Frost who stopped in his tracks.
When it came to hand to hand combat, the team was split into two groups: those that were incredibly shy around Wesker, and those that were incredibly arrogant. Surprisingly, Frost was the foremost.
"You'll lose your balance at that height." he explained more to Rebecca than to Joseph. "If he hits your knee cap, it could shatter."
"Is that from experience, Captain?" Joseph jested.
"Yes." he stated plainly and walked away, leaving Joseph's face horror stricken.
He had been waiting for a call all day regarding whether or not the T-Line project would be ready to transfer to the Arklay Facility for final inspection. The past few days had been ridiculously quiet for the Captain. He didn't know if being forced to visit STARS outside of the office instead of in was a blessing or a curse. But at the moment, he was enjoying watching them try to either impress or intimidate him while he waited for a very welcomed phone call.
"Has anyone actually seen the Captain fight?" Brad asked who had been watching the scene from afar. "I mean like really... fight."
"Now that you mention it... I don't think so. The only time I can remember is when he hit that 545 around the corner in the face with a trashcan."
"Luck?"
"...Didn't look like it. As far as I've heard, his background is pretty solid."
"That's what you get for the New York area."
"Hey, Captain?" Chris called out as Wesker came around the corner once more.
"Jill's not going to be able to make it to the match which means we're one short. Want in?"
"I don't think so." he said in plain. When it came to fighting in public, it was uncommonly difficult for him to remember not to use his training to the fullest extent. Disarming was easily done, but he was a man of efficiency and that usually meant that what he fought, he meant to kill. Everything else was a waste of time. 'Like today,' he thought.
His phone rang and his senses jumped in relief.
"excuse me." he said without even really meaning it and walked towards the exit.
"Yes?"
"There's a situation." the voice said.
"What is it."
"Someone's locked down the south end of the Omega facility, sir."
"Which part."
"300-350" labs sir. We've tried overriding it but the clearance surpasses ours, Sir. We weren't informed of any new protocol."
"When did this happen."
"Three minutes ago sir."
Wesker could feel his phone slowly cracking because his fist was beginning to crush it. No one had that clearance but crisis management.
The man would burn.
"Send three squads. No one, I don't care what the clearance, enters or exists until I arrive. Shut it down."
"Yes, Sir."
Wesker ran outside, the door banging into the wall and then shutting with just as much velocity as his feet were carrying him. His footsteps pounding against the black pavement, the cool air rushing past him, he ran through the garage parking levels; the fluorescent lights glaring off of every hood. His increasing pace echoed through the halls of civilian cars until he slid over one and to his own black vehicle. Oh how he would pay.
Opening the door, switching on the headlights and and revving the engine to a start, he skidded out of his parking spot; his headlights raced across the metal and concrete. Wesker pressed his foot to the floor. Hard. The weight of the sleek car wildly threw itself around the corners of the ground level, until it bounced into the open of the city night.
The owner of that car entered the long tunneling road of yellow lights that seemed to rush passed him as fast as his thoughts sifted in his head. Anxiety surged through his body; his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as hard as an iron trap. He was frozen within his own storm of frustration. He let it get too far. He hadn't been careful and this was his punishment. A high profile incident. His phone rang as he exited the tunnel into the wooded night, not a mile from the facility.
"What is it."
"Turn around."
"What?"
"It's a trap. Turn around!"
As those words were spoken, a detonation blew on the outside of his car, causing him to swerve into a spiraling ballet of shattering steel and glass across the hard pavement of the highway.
He knew what was coming. He knew it, but he couldn't see it.
The car smashed into the guardrail with the grueling scream of metal against metal surrounded him as sparks flew across the hood.. The g-force, threw him into the door, his head hitting the glass and bouncing back.
And then it was over. The car hot from friction and scattered along the road, had come to a halt. As did Albert Wesker.
He blinked hard, his vision doubling for a moment as he gained a clear focus. At that moment, his instinct kicked in. Unbuckling his seat belt, he rammed the door open with his shoulder and stumbled out choking. Touching his forehead, he half expected a concussion with the blood, but he could walk. That was good enough. And his gun was still in its holster. Even better. He made his way up the embankment and into the thick of the woods, pistol in hand and looking to shoot anything that would dare move.
The moonlight was poor and he could hardly see through the thicket of the woods, but he could see the facility off in the distance. It was surrounded by grass covered grounds and electrical fencing. A military fortress. Umbrella wasn't always subtle, but they knew something about perception. Not overly high profile, but just enough to keep civilians away. He slid off the bark of a tree and continued making his way through the dark. Whatever Donestk was up to, he wouldn't get far. He would make sure of that. The Captain could see the flashing lights skidding to a halt in front of the building. Umbrella had arrived.
He silently made his way onto the field as a helicopter flew overhead, it's lights off. His eyes followed it to the landing pad which he could barely see in his condition. It was well lit and well lit for a reason. A reason that happened to already be prepackaged and waiting to be jettisoned. And it happened to belong to Wesker.
If the Captain hadn't hit a remotely controlled landmine on the highway, and hadn't crashed his car into pieces, he never would have had the ringing in his ears that he had now. Which would have meant that Wesker would have been able to hear what was moving across the ground. But Wesker didn't.
He was hit to the ground, hard. His hands and face scraping into the dirt, violently. A kick to the ribs came next, causing him to contract in form. He could hear the swing of the metal pipe in the air though, and he knew only seconds later he would feel it. The air was knocked out of him as he laid on his stomach against the cold harsh earth.
"You really are persistent." a voice came. "I'm surprised you made it out of the car, really."
"You have no idea what you're doing." Wesker said, rolling onto his back.
"Coming from a man who just came stumbling out of the woods, I'm not so sure. And considering, your precious T-line project is no longer in your possession, I'd say your chips are down. All that's left is you."
He went to grab Wesker but instead got a kick to the face, staggering him backwards a few feet. Donetsk pointed the gun and fired. The bullet grazed across the bare forearm of the STARS Captain who went for the charge. Expecting a full on assault, Donetsk went for a grab but instead, got something else. In a choke hold, Wesker shattered the man's kneecaps with two evenly placed stomps.
The scream was quite clear as Donetsk collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. Before he was allowed to squeeze off another shot, Wesker grabbed the gun from him and stood as an eclipse from the distant lights of the base.
Apparently the man still had enough fight in him to strike up conversation.
"You can't pretend forever. They'll find you, just like the rest of us. I know everything about you. You're a dead man after all the shit you've done."
"Good. Then you'll be expecting this." There was no hesitation in his movements. Two thunderous echoes escaped the chamber, each drilling a hole into Donetsk's shoulders. He picked the man up and dragged him towards the charged fence.
Ada Wong had followed Wesker from the garage. It was the fastest car chase she had ever been involved in and also the most absurdly difficult. Oddly enough, the Captain never removed the bug from his phone. So, it was obvious once she had found out about the lock down that Wesker was not only being provoked, but led into something he was somehow not fully aware of. But her call had come too late and for a moment, when she had found his car still on fire and torn to shreds along the highway, she had actually been concerned. The man was conniving, maybe, but he couldn't possibly have deserved any of this.
But Ada Wong now watched in horror. She had arrived at the treeline just in time to see the two shadowy figures wrestling in the grass. Before she even had a chance to react, Wesker was in control. And what a terrifying thing that was. Now she knew everything. As she watched the STARS Captain drag the screaming man through the grass and to his unsightly end, she now knew who Albert Wesker really was.