((Oh, right. This also takes place before RE2. I'll get back to you with an exact date one of these days, honest. Anyhow, this here is a space-filler.
Skip it if you like.))

He recalled suiting up for the mission on the ride there, most of which was spent in the cool dampness provided by the back area of a commercial cargo hauling truck. His ride was little more than a sixteen-wheeler with some gear in the back. His gear, in fact. Solo mission, but of course, so whose else would it be? In the bumpy dark he changed out of his civilian clothing and into his assignment gear, which consisted of a black kevlar vest providing all-purpose protection for his torso, black fingerless gloves that he found quite stylish, a snug black T-shirt and of course some pants to match the color of the day.

My, what a great deal of pockets and such that vest had. He had to commend the designer's taste for practicality as he slipped in his tools of the trade; a few spare clips for his pistol, a fragmentation grenade or three- he took note of how they make those quite small nowadays, a few very miniscule pieces of C-4 explosive as it was the best key one could get, and he was reaching for the few flashbangs his employers had provided when something occurred to him. What good would a burst of light and a loud noise do against something idiotic enough to stumble around and consume any flesh it could get its grimy fingers upon?

About that point a rather grim thought hit him. Perhaps there were other bio-weapons in the facility. More than just zombies. A hazy flashback of the vengeful efficiency of the 'Hunters' hit him just then, and he reached out a hand and grabbed a few of the tiny flash grenades. Better safe than sorry, they hardly added extra weight anyways. Lastly, he found himself placing the small radio device in one of the empty pockets near his chest and plugging this into the hands-free transmitter he found himself liking quite a lot. Very convenient. It had a single earpiece on the right side, and a microphone that he bent as so it was the ideal distance away from his mouth. Very practical for radio communications during difficult times.

Of course, it donned upon him that wearing all black was hardly discreet during the day, in the middle of the desert. Which, after twenty or so minutes of driving, was where he assumed the truck was. However, he had gathered that this particular facility, like most of the others, was beneath ground level. And, without a shadow of a doubt, had numerous power and electrical failures thanks to the diseased employees. The camouflage was by no means intended for the bio-weapons, it was meant entirely for dealing with Umbrella's personal clean-up crews.

His train of thought was disrupted by the vehicle slowly coming to a halt, which he assumed after nearly half an hour solid of driving without rest, meant his queue to disembark. He slid the sheet metal door of the truck open, being greeted immediately by the morning sun beating down upon him and the seemingly ancient road. He gave silent praise to the invention of shades once again before going over one final check of his person: Knife, check. Pistol, check. Ammunition and various grenades and such, check. Cleaning cloth, check. He rummaged around one of his pockets for the white rag briefly, just making sure.

A voice buzzed into his right ear immediately after he flipped the radio on. "The facility entrance can be found maybe half a mile to your north, at the foot of the ridge up ahead. Most people assume it's a derelict mine shaft, the entrance you'll be taking has been sealed up for years- or at least looks like it has. Contact us if anything comes up." Wesker simply hopped out of the vehicle, and slid the door shut behind him. Upon hitting ground he began walking north towards his destination, hearing the vehicle roar away into the distance behind him.

A long and bothersome walk ensued, its sheer annoyance amplified by his black clothing and the sun's knack for being drawn to that particular color. What really took the cake however, was what he discovered when he arrived. There was no door. Well, there was, but it happened to be in several pieces and blown to high hell about the nearby area. Granted, it made entry easier, but it was the matter of who had entered before him.

"Simply divine..." Wesker found himself muttering this with sarcasm heavy enough to crush those faint of heart. Lovely. Umbrella's team had shown up first.