30
Wesker sat in front of the computer monitor. The electricity came on not long ago as well as Umbrella's 'lock down' safety mechanism; he wasn't surprised it had to be standard just in case something like this happened. It was only another problem to sort out amongst the rest.
He pulled up the institute's database and searched for any clues.
There wasn't anything out of the ordinary other than it was the last stronghold for Umbrella. Each of their international bases where destroyed and scoured thoroughly through. He knew this because he was in head of each party. But the T-Veronica virus wasn't to be seen. After Rockford and the Antarctic and not forgetting his clash with Alexia Ashford, there had been no sign of the virus for months. Even undercover H.C.F agents didn't know about this facility, until two weeks ago. He could remember that grand encoded e-mail popping up on his laptop. It was a Godsend, he couldn't believe when the message said that there was one more Umbrella facility that had a sample of the T-Veronica virus.
He was glad for two reasons. One, he wouldn't get his ass kicked by H.C.F board of directors; even with his new 'abilities' he still could die. But he was a little harder than some to kill. And two, well once he had the T-Veronica virus it was time for Wesker to become freelance. He hated H.C.F and Umbrella. They had so much and yet they wasted it all.
He threw his legs up and placed them on the table. Yep, Wesker was going to be the one kicking ass once he gained the virus and not waste his greatness being second in command to a bunch of fools with no ambition whatsoever.
He took off his shades and placed them nicely by the keyboard, he sighed returning back to reality again. He used the mouse and clicked on patient search. Then moving the keyboard closer to him he typed in 'C. Redfield'. He pressed enter and waited as the program ran through each name. He almost wished to see Chris's name pop up. He was another chore on his long list to do. Just to kill Chris slowly with nothing more than his combat knife and bare hands. To silt open his flesh while he was awake draining his blood to nothing. Then taking out his heart and watch him die as he stares at his heart in agony. He grinned lighting up his orange-yellow eyes. Oh yes, that would be some ride. He had it all prepared; he even ordered custom-made surgical knives to do the job. Each knife engraved with his initials in them with a little quote saying 'Die Chris Die'. Maybe a little over the top but he was only going to have the one time to kill Chris. That was also why he bought a digital camcorder with stand.
He sighed again and laughed, maybe a bit morbid but what the hell. He glanced at the screen seeing a 'C. Redfield' he laughed happy to have one of his dreams come true. He clicked on the name and up came a file:
'Name: Redfield, Claire
Age: 19
Admitted: September 23rd 19:53
Located: In Secure Unit, cell seven
Profile: CLASSIFIED'
And that was it, everything about her was classified, however the tiny amount of information it gave did reveal that she was in fact the escaped individual. It was a disappointment not to have thee Chris Redfield, nonetheless for the time being he could have some fun with his little sister that's if she could be found.
A Redfield.
Typical that almost wherever he was there was a Redfield, but it just wouldn't be complete without one to get in your way and wreck your plans! He stood up and bashed the centre of the wooden table. The wood cracked in half collapsing on itself. The computer smashed on the floor in pieces.
A soldier ran in, "Sir it everything…" he cut off seeing the devastation that Wesker produced with nothing more than a thrust of his hand.
Wesker glanced at the young man, he eyes flared with rage, "Get out," he snarled. The man backed up slowly into the corridor closing the door behind him. He kicked the monitor still feeling his pent up aggression over the Redfield's, or anyone associated with them, especially Chris.
He casually bent down and picked up his shades, he held them up to the light, "Son of a bitch!" he muttered, "Look what you made me do!" He tossed the broken shades to the floor and stepped on them. He listened to the crunching sounds wishing that Chris was under his foot and that his bones were the ones breaking.
There was a tapping on the door, Wesker frowned, there was one thing he hated the most, being interrupted whilst in thought, "I don't want to be disturbed."
"Sir, we have a situation."
This got his attention, he kicked the fragments of his shades away and turned round, "Enter," he hissed.
The door opened and in walked Baker. He saluted and stood at ease. Wesker didn't bother with the saluting he just wanted the man to get to the point, "Make it quick," he said settling down in the leather chair, "What is the situation?"
"I believe that Alexia Ashford is still alive."
Wesker's pupils grew, and shock passed through him. He grinned at the thought of that bitch breathing, it was a blessing in disguise, she had the T-Veronica virus in her and he could also get his pay back on her too. But that was if what the man was saying was true. He narrowed his eyes, "And why would you assume that?"
Baker never liked Wesker; he was cunning and too weird. He didn't give a damn about his men; if they lived or died it wasn't any skin off his back. And those eyes of his, they were just too freaky; it showed how far he went to get the job done, "It's not an 'assumption' sir. She attacked and killed two of my men and spoke through the radio."
Wesker rotated the chair round, hands together as if in prayer, "Hmm, interesting so she is alive…" he glanced up at the soldier, "Get some men together and meet me by the elevator in ten minutes."
Baker nodded. He turned then stopped, "Permission to speak sir."
Wesker rolled his eyes back and sighed, "What is it?"
"Are my men and I entering Umbrella's underground facility?"
Wesker simply nodded.
"But we still have not found the code to get inside. And the entrance is reinforced titanium."
"That is why I have this," he picked up a briefcase by the chair; it was a black metal case and looked very strong. Baker didn't realise why he hadn't seen it before. Wesker propped the briefcase on his lap, he ran his finger across a silver strip. The case clicked and he opened it up.
"This is H.C.F's latest creation," he picked up a grey cylinder looking Plasticine. It looked about sixteen centimetres long and a diameter of five centimetres, "Plastic explosives with a difference. It's harmless now but used the right way and it can blow a hole straight to the Earth's core. It is what you are going to use to destroy that entrance. Anymore questions?"
"No sir."
"Then get out!" Baker saluted once more turned and walked out of the room.
Wesker swirled in the chair again; he really hated being teamed up with complete amateurs. It was a waste of his time and expertises. The board of directors final say yet again. Those assholes were going to get their dues very soon. He laughed, a low deep sound from his throat, the future was starting to look bright…
…And messy.
Wesker sat in front of the computer monitor. The electricity came on not long ago as well as Umbrella's 'lock down' safety mechanism; he wasn't surprised it had to be standard just in case something like this happened. It was only another problem to sort out amongst the rest.
He pulled up the institute's database and searched for any clues.
There wasn't anything out of the ordinary other than it was the last stronghold for Umbrella. Each of their international bases where destroyed and scoured thoroughly through. He knew this because he was in head of each party. But the T-Veronica virus wasn't to be seen. After Rockford and the Antarctic and not forgetting his clash with Alexia Ashford, there had been no sign of the virus for months. Even undercover H.C.F agents didn't know about this facility, until two weeks ago. He could remember that grand encoded e-mail popping up on his laptop. It was a Godsend, he couldn't believe when the message said that there was one more Umbrella facility that had a sample of the T-Veronica virus.
He was glad for two reasons. One, he wouldn't get his ass kicked by H.C.F board of directors; even with his new 'abilities' he still could die. But he was a little harder than some to kill. And two, well once he had the T-Veronica virus it was time for Wesker to become freelance. He hated H.C.F and Umbrella. They had so much and yet they wasted it all.
He threw his legs up and placed them on the table. Yep, Wesker was going to be the one kicking ass once he gained the virus and not waste his greatness being second in command to a bunch of fools with no ambition whatsoever.
He took off his shades and placed them nicely by the keyboard, he sighed returning back to reality again. He used the mouse and clicked on patient search. Then moving the keyboard closer to him he typed in 'C. Redfield'. He pressed enter and waited as the program ran through each name. He almost wished to see Chris's name pop up. He was another chore on his long list to do. Just to kill Chris slowly with nothing more than his combat knife and bare hands. To silt open his flesh while he was awake draining his blood to nothing. Then taking out his heart and watch him die as he stares at his heart in agony. He grinned lighting up his orange-yellow eyes. Oh yes, that would be some ride. He had it all prepared; he even ordered custom-made surgical knives to do the job. Each knife engraved with his initials in them with a little quote saying 'Die Chris Die'. Maybe a little over the top but he was only going to have the one time to kill Chris. That was also why he bought a digital camcorder with stand.
He sighed again and laughed, maybe a bit morbid but what the hell. He glanced at the screen seeing a 'C. Redfield' he laughed happy to have one of his dreams come true. He clicked on the name and up came a file:
'Name: Redfield, Claire
Age: 19
Admitted: September 23rd 19:53
Located: In Secure Unit, cell seven
Profile: CLASSIFIED'
And that was it, everything about her was classified, however the tiny amount of information it gave did reveal that she was in fact the escaped individual. It was a disappointment not to have thee Chris Redfield, nonetheless for the time being he could have some fun with his little sister that's if she could be found.
A Redfield.
Typical that almost wherever he was there was a Redfield, but it just wouldn't be complete without one to get in your way and wreck your plans! He stood up and bashed the centre of the wooden table. The wood cracked in half collapsing on itself. The computer smashed on the floor in pieces.
A soldier ran in, "Sir it everything…" he cut off seeing the devastation that Wesker produced with nothing more than a thrust of his hand.
Wesker glanced at the young man, he eyes flared with rage, "Get out," he snarled. The man backed up slowly into the corridor closing the door behind him. He kicked the monitor still feeling his pent up aggression over the Redfield's, or anyone associated with them, especially Chris.
He casually bent down and picked up his shades, he held them up to the light, "Son of a bitch!" he muttered, "Look what you made me do!" He tossed the broken shades to the floor and stepped on them. He listened to the crunching sounds wishing that Chris was under his foot and that his bones were the ones breaking.
There was a tapping on the door, Wesker frowned, there was one thing he hated the most, being interrupted whilst in thought, "I don't want to be disturbed."
"Sir, we have a situation."
This got his attention, he kicked the fragments of his shades away and turned round, "Enter," he hissed.
The door opened and in walked Baker. He saluted and stood at ease. Wesker didn't bother with the saluting he just wanted the man to get to the point, "Make it quick," he said settling down in the leather chair, "What is the situation?"
"I believe that Alexia Ashford is still alive."
Wesker's pupils grew, and shock passed through him. He grinned at the thought of that bitch breathing, it was a blessing in disguise, she had the T-Veronica virus in her and he could also get his pay back on her too. But that was if what the man was saying was true. He narrowed his eyes, "And why would you assume that?"
Baker never liked Wesker; he was cunning and too weird. He didn't give a damn about his men; if they lived or died it wasn't any skin off his back. And those eyes of his, they were just too freaky; it showed how far he went to get the job done, "It's not an 'assumption' sir. She attacked and killed two of my men and spoke through the radio."
Wesker rotated the chair round, hands together as if in prayer, "Hmm, interesting so she is alive…" he glanced up at the soldier, "Get some men together and meet me by the elevator in ten minutes."
Baker nodded. He turned then stopped, "Permission to speak sir."
Wesker rolled his eyes back and sighed, "What is it?"
"Are my men and I entering Umbrella's underground facility?"
Wesker simply nodded.
"But we still have not found the code to get inside. And the entrance is reinforced titanium."
"That is why I have this," he picked up a briefcase by the chair; it was a black metal case and looked very strong. Baker didn't realise why he hadn't seen it before. Wesker propped the briefcase on his lap, he ran his finger across a silver strip. The case clicked and he opened it up.
"This is H.C.F's latest creation," he picked up a grey cylinder looking Plasticine. It looked about sixteen centimetres long and a diameter of five centimetres, "Plastic explosives with a difference. It's harmless now but used the right way and it can blow a hole straight to the Earth's core. It is what you are going to use to destroy that entrance. Anymore questions?"
"No sir."
"Then get out!" Baker saluted once more turned and walked out of the room.
Wesker swirled in the chair again; he really hated being teamed up with complete amateurs. It was a waste of his time and expertises. The board of directors final say yet again. Those assholes were going to get their dues very soon. He laughed, a low deep sound from his throat, the future was starting to look bright…
…And messy.