It was something out of a nightmare, watching the Ecliptic Express crash into the Training Centre's basement on a small monitor. They felt the crash several rooms away, the walls faintly rumbled. The camera lens was obscured by smoke, but at times it was clear to see everything going on down there.
"We should abandon this place," Birkin said, pacing in a little circle behind Wesker, nibbling his right thumb with anxiety.
He wasn't worried about the fire or the damage done, but a train crash was hard to miss even this far out. Not every cop and firefighter in the city was on Umbrella's payroll. Though the facility was isolated, all it took was one anonymous phone call from a concerned citizen to expose the company's agenda.
The bioweapons and the controversy would ruin them. Wesker wasn't fazed; he tapped at the monitor controls, shifting camera to camera, thoroughly keeping an eye on the facility. He barely made a sound since Dorian's departure.
"Are you even listening?" Birkin asked, not for the first time in the last few minutes. He was feeling more and more anxious with Wesker's unhelpful, disdainful behaviour.
"I heard you the first time, Birkin," Wesker uttered, not taking his eyes off the buzzing monitor in front of him. "If you want to leave, leave."
"Well? Aren't you coming?"
"In due time," he answered, his tone steady and smooth. "I just want to keep an eye on a few things."
"Like what? I'd say the Ecliptic Express is pretty much destroyed and Dorian is already on route to clean up the table scraps. What could keep you?"
Wesker didn't answer, kept his eyes on the monitor like a hawk.
Birkin clenched his hands into fists. God, he can be so unbearable sometimes. That's the problem with sociopaths. The failure to sympathise tended to make them hugely self-centred. Even as a father of three, he was still the same old manipulating asshole. One I'd be better off without, then again, I'm glad I'm not on his bad side.