The past three months have gone by painfully slowly. On my first day at Umbrella's Rockfort military facility, I was very optimistic. But how that optimism slowly drained as the days dragged on, gradually becoming weeks, and the weeks slowly turning into months. Every morning, it was the same thing. Me and the other cadets – all of who had at least three more years of life experience than me – would wake up at five in the morning, right at the crack of dawn. We were expected to make our beds before we did anything. And the inspectors were really anal about it. There were to be no creases on the sheets whatsoever after the beds were made. We were expected to take good care of our equipment. Boots had to be cleaned every night, because the inspectors would come in the morning and look for the reflections of their ugly faces in them.
I thought it would be cool to own my own semi-automatic rifle – and I did. But we were expected to take care of them like they were our lives. I mean, of course everyone should take good care of their belongings, but the standards these psycho army guys had were nearly impossible to meet. They wanted the rifles in as good condition as when they were new – I thought they were new. Any failure to meet the inspector's standards meant a variety of disciplinary punishment, ranging from cleaning toilets, to pushups in outside rain or shine.
One thing that I walked out with from that experience though, and I'm glad that I did, is the fact that they teach you how to live like a man. They teach you to be independent, and to build respect for yourself. They tear you down at first and rebuild you according to their standards – and as shitty as the process was, I can honestly say I'm somewhat a better person now than when I first went in.
Fortunately, we were given regular access to computers at the facility, so Chris wouldn't be driven insane wondering what was happening to me. I gave him the lowdown on everything that was going on from my perspective. He was never really interested though. I mean I was training to be a soldier for Umbrella, not masterminding their major plots, so I couldn't exactly provide him with the information he needed to bring them down.
About halfway through my training, I began to embrace the military life on the island. After all, this was my new reality. I say halfway now but back then, I had no idea how long my training would last. But even after the tough adjustments, my new reality would also come crashing down before my eyes shortly thereafter, just like my life as a law student back in Raccoon City.
After the third month had passed, Alfred Ashford approached me. It was at night, and the guys and I had just finished showering and were planning on turning in for the night. I walked down the hallway of the facility holding my uniform close to my body. My sleepwear consisted of a white T-shirt and navy blue boxer shorts. The rain chilled the air outside, and the cold had no problem spreading indoors with the cement that the building was made of, despite the heating system – which by the way, is as complete joke.
Even after all the time I spent at the facility, Mr. Ashford never failed to creep me out. I never got used to the guy – he was just weird. And it wasn't exactly one aspect that contributed to his overall disturbing aura. It was the way he giggled like a girl and a maniac at the same time. He always looked so perfect with his hair combed in the same fashion at all times of the day. And when we would be training during the afternoon, sometimes he'd walk by and look at us with his face sometimes beaming with pride and other times he'd grinning sadistically. He was never afraid to make eye contact with the cadets, not caring that his eerie gaze could very easily cause us to lose our concentration.
Anyway, it was a cold and stormy night when he approached me. The hallways were dimly lit, seeing as how we should have all been in bed anyway. I turned around the corner and nearly jumped out of my skin, seeing him standing there staring directly into my eyes like he had been expecting me the whole time. He still wore that British admiral suit or whatever kind of uniform it was. I swear the guy never changed out of it.
"Kenneth," he whispered in a low voice, "I must speak with you."
"Yes, sir," I said, trying in vain to get my heart to slow down from the shock I just received.
"Forget the formalities, cadet," Alfred ordered, "I want to talk to the real Kenny."
"What does this regard?" I asked, finding it a little difficult to speak with him casually.
"Your promotion…"
I almost bit my tongue off. "Promotion? But sir, I'm still training and …"
"You may not be aware of it, but your athletic ability speaks for itself. You are a lot smaller than your fellow cadets, yet you outperform them in almost every exercise, every drill. Your hand-eye coordination, your reflexes, endurance, strength … everything far surpasses that of the others in your platoon. I believe you are ready for employment, ready to get paid more for doing this."
"This …" I struggled to find the right words. "This is a little too quick for me."
"You weren't expecting such a hasty promotion? Given the Shadow Technology inside your body, it is no surprise that you are able to do so well as a soldier. After all, the technology is designed to heighten the athletic prowess of a person, turning them into a perfect soldier. You are Umbrella's first specimen of such a technology, and we are certainly grateful. That's why I'm very interested in hiring you as an Umbrella agent. Your first few assignments will consist of spy work, not really involving direct combat. That will help you exercise your endurance in the field."
"You mean I won't get to fight anyone? I thought that's what Umbrella's agents did. I mean Ada, she …"
"You will learn to fight properly in time. But we're focusing on one thing at a time. Please consider my offer, and let me know what you have decided in the afternoon tomorrow."
* * *
I wish Alfred hadn't talked to me that night. I lay in bed staring wide-eyed at the ceiling with butterflies in my stomach. His offer was a big deal – I had never been so successful in anything in my life before. The thought of being a fifteen-year-old Umbrella agent was certainly appealing. And to think just a few months ago, I thought Umbrella was just some innocent pharmaceutical company. A part of my conscience tugged at the back of my mind. I knew this job was going to be fun, but at the same time I knew I'd be contributing to the evils that the company was responsible for.
But I wasn't a bad guy … right? The only reason I was with Umbrella was to distract Wesker and Ada from Chris and the others. It was me they were after. Besides, I was planning on helping Chris bring down Umbrella from the inside. No matter how many times I tried to justify it, something just didn't feel right. Would I be responsible for the next Raccoon City style disaster? It was unlikely but the potential was there. And that's why for the first few hours since I'd turned the lights off to my room which I shared with three other cadets, I lay wide awake in bed, unable to fall asleep no matter how desperately I tried. I closed my eyes but my mind was still running a mile a minute.
I reopened them after what I could've sworn was five minutes later. But my body told me otherwise. My heavy eyelids, the pasties in my mouth told me that I had been sleeping for a good couple of hours. But if I really was sleeping, then why had I waken up so abruptly for no reason.
There was someone shouting outside. It was odd, especially at this time of the night when all the trainees were supposed to be in bed. I rose out of bed, feeling my body protest by shooting aching pains throughout my limbs. But my curiosity had gotten the better of me and I really wanted to find out what was going on. I sauntered over to the windows, shuddering as the cold tiles made contact with my warm feet.
I peered through the window and just stared through the rain-splattered glass. For the first time in the three months I spent there, I had finally seen the REAL soldiers in actions. Though it was absolutely pouring outside, the men worked professionally, not faltering even once as they marched. They were there hauling in some poor prisoner. There was only one prisoner, but I couldn't figure out why they needed so many men to bring her in.
Yeah, the captive was a girl. She was lightly built wearing tight jeans that hugged the curve of her legs, and a red short sleeved biker jacket over a black shirt underneath. I couldn't tell if her tight jeans actually made her look like a slut, or if it was the fact that wet jeans cling to your skin like no tomorrow. Her chestnut hair was tied into a ponytail that stuck out from the back of her head, bouncing along as she moved. The girl was unconscious and was being carried on one shoulder of a burly soldier. I saw Rodrigo walking a few paces behind, his eyes never shifting from the face of the girl. They obviously didn't want to take any chances with this girl, but she looked so sweet and nice …
"Don't take your eyes off her until she's safely behind bars," Rodrigo ordered, his voice powerful enough for me to hear through the closed window. "She's responsible for the death of over ten Umbrella soldiers in our Paris location. She shot a compressed gas canister and it exploded, igniting all the surrounding canisters causing a massive explosion. She knows what she's doing and that makes her dangerous." All of a sudden, I didn't feel so good about becoming an Umbrella agent. If the soldiers were killed so quickly by their enemies without a simple thought about their lives, I wondered what kind of torment a higher ranking agent would go through before being executed.
The soldier carrying her snickered. "The Redfield family sure knows how to produce pests." The Redfield family? My heart skipped a beat. That couldn't be … it just couldn't be … My knees were beginning to turn into jelly. I was starting to find it hard to breathe. Would they make me kill her as a form of training? Was she REALLY on this island as a captive of Umbrella?
Rodrigo's comment confirmed it for me, as he smiled sadistically telling the soldier, "Be sure to make the honored prisoner comfortable in her cell. She'll be there for awhile. Welcome to Rockfort, Claire Redfield."