The new few months passed pleasantly enough for Cora. As pleasantly as time could pass when you were in a monster infested hell hole full of deceit and corruption, anyway.
Cora met with Salven a few times. Every time, she would inquire after his concern, and he'd always respond the same.
"If Jailbirds don't look after each other, who will? The cops?" he laughed, and would punch Cora on the arm. Cora would usually sock him back and he'd mock her strength, or else call her a bitch and storm off, depending on whether he was allowed to fight with his wife that week or not.
It was a new lifestyle, but it was one that Cora was getting used to. Her strengths and weaknesses were starting to show. She was good at slipping quietly through shadows, at using her daggers to slit a throat, at checking out perimeters without being seen.
But at one on one situations, or 'kill everything that moves', she faltered. She insisted on using her daggers, but she was also becoming quite apt with a Glock .16 pistol.
Irene Dinzali was still pushing Cora as hard as ever, but the tasks didn't seem quite so hard as they had that first month. Cora was even making good progress at climbing the rope and falling.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. Cora found herself being called one day out of the Jungle to come to a Senior Umbrella Official's office. Cora came, twirling her now shoulder length hair on a finger nervously.
"Trainee Cora Merandez?" The man behind the desk said. He gave no name.
"Um, yes." Cora nodded nervously. In response came her own voice.
"I don't think he did die in a car crash though."
"Sir?" Cora said, alarmed.
"You seem to doubt Umbrella." the man said quietly. There was a soft click, and again Cora's voice spoke from a tape recorder.'
"I don't know. It just doesn't add up. I honestly think he was killed by someone at Umbrella. And Umbrella is up to more than just drugs. I saw the walking dead." A soft whirr sound, and then: "I don't even know the half of it. I don't want to know. But I have the feeling that I don't have a choice in the matter."
Cora stood shellshocked. They had bugged her conversation with her Mother. She hadn't said anything treasonous since that day to her family - if just for Amelia's sake, but if they were pulling her up to here for that alone...
The cool metal of a gun barrel was pressed against Cora's left temple, and she stiffened.
"Umbrella was very kind to your father." the man said softly. "Very kind."
"Y-yes sir. Gabriel Turnbull told me so."
"And we have been very kind to your sister, and your mother, don't you think? Another man might have killed them, or left them in their dirty hovel in America. We didn't, did we?"
"Well... no."
"And we have been kindest of all to you, Cora Merandez." The metal shifted and Cora wanted to scream. Was this how her Father died? With a bullet in the brain and doubts in his mind? Cora trembled.
"I-I'm sorry, sir." she stammered. "But I was all alone, away from home, friendless ... please extend that kindness a bit further, and understand how I felt! Even the Saints must have doubted God at one point!" it was a thin metaphor, but Cora was clutching at anything she could.
The gun lowered and Cora had to stop herself from sighing in relief.
"Yes, we are the hand of God, so to speak." the man mused to himself. "We shelter, and we destroy. We can choose your fate as well as any Lord, Merandez."
"And I b-beg of you to choose rightly." Cora said. One slip and she could end up worse than that zombie who Turnbull had killed. Only seconds pass, but to poor Cora it seemed like eras in which the clock ticked by. Finally, a drawer opened and the gun was dropped inside.
"This time, the Gods shelter. This time." the man finally said. Then he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a second name tag, passing it to Cora. Cora glanced at it, and her eyes widened.

Cora Marie Merandez Umbrella Inc. Intermediate #c37

"Wait, I'm getting promoted?" she said doubtfully.
"Of course. Many of your instructors fairly sing your praises. Even Irene Dinzali is satisfied, and she is not the easiest woman in the world to impress. She says, and I quote, 'when that young fille watches her mouth, she is one of my better students.'."
"Oh." Cora had had many a painful reminder that it was "Trainer Dinzali" and not "Irene".
Cora unclipped her old Trainee tag and clipped on the Intermediate tag.
"You'll be having a specialized training course now. Irene Dinzali insists on training you in your course."
"What will my course be? If I may ask, sir."
"Stealth. You have the potential to become more than just an assassin. You may become an Umbrella Special Forces member, if you keep the good work up. Now, leave me."
"Yes sir." Cora said, and backed off. Part of her, the part of her that doubted the circumstances of her father's dead and who had wanted to seize the man's forearm when he had the gun against her head sneered. But oddly, another part of her that Cora did not remember was oddly satisfied.