Chapter Sixteen: A Question of Loyalty
Sewage slushed past Wesker's legs in a green torrent. The sewer beneath the mansion was the only 'back door' in and out of the facility. He had tried the main entrance, only to see the T-001 lumbering beside the elevator. Wesker had examined its engorged heart and spiked hand from his vantage point behind a pillar. He didn't have the time or the ammunition to challenge the creature, so he decided the long way.
It shouldn't have been awakened, he kept thinking. With such a dangerous and rampant specimen, of course there had been layers upon layers of passwords and safeguards to ensure that it wasn't activated. Only someone working for Umbrella—and one particularly high in the B.O.W. development division—could have access to that information. It only supported Wesker's guess at who this young man could be…
Wesker climbed from the stinking river onto a ledge. A rusted metal door stood over him. Wesker patted his vest pocket and felt the faint outline of a flashdrive. William didn't even know his full plans, and Wesker liked it that way. People, including one's 'friends', were unreliable. You, on the other hand, could never betray yourself. He brushed the thought aside as he pushed through the door.
Heat washed over him in a wave. The toppled cars of the Ecliptic Express lay on their sides. Though most of the flames had died, pockets of fire crackled from debris and puddles of oil. The smoke had mostly dissipated from the chamber. The odor of cooking flesh clung to the air. Wesker's footsteps rang over the dying crackle of flame. Another set of footsteps mingled with his. Two sets.
"Where might you be going, comrade?"
Two figures emerged from the top of the nearest car. The first was a hulking man wearing a gray, left-breast coat. A colonel's pin with the Umbrella logo hung from the man's chest. His white hair slicked was slicked back, except for a long fringe that nearly hid the scar over his right eye. The second man was taller than the first with ashen skin. His head was bald and his body ridged in his heavy white coat. Wesker felt the second's eyes on him, even though they were hidden behind an orange visor.
Wesker knew the first man well. His body tense beneath the cold gaze of Sergei Vladimir. Part of Wesker wanted to move his hand toward the pocket that contained the flashdrive.
"My next mission," Wesker said, checking his Beretta and walking forward, as though he were doing exactly what he was meant to.
"The reclamation of the Management Training Facility was your mission," Vladimir said, his voice thick with a Russian accent. "And now you're just going to walk away without taking responsibility for your failure?"
"The facility is overrun," Wesker said. "I will detonate the laboratory and dispose of it."
"You overreach yourself," Vladimir said.
Wesker stopped. He was glad that he wore sunglasses, so his eyes didn't betray him.
"Overreach?" he said. "I have always been loyal to Spencer."
"Have you, Comrade?"
Wesker clenched his fist, but it was the only sign of a disturbance. There was a reason Sergei Vladimir was one of Umbrella's highest ranking officers. Even now, Wesker could feel Vladimir's eyes scan him, looking for anything to betray him his intentions—a hand twitch, a tightening of the jaw. Wesker ensured that he didn't give off any of these tall-tell signs.
"You seem to have forgotten your place," Vladimir said. The tall, pale creature at his side leaped from the car and landed kneeling before Wesker. Wesker took a step back, hand reaching for his weapon. The creature slowly stood, it's seven-foot height towering over. "Perhaps you require a lesson."
The creature lumbered toward him. Each movement was slow. Wesker's hand remained on his gun, but it remained on his holster. If he drew his gun and fired, Sergei would call it insubordination. Then everything Wesker had planned would be over before it even began.
"Surely Spencer would rather have this facility demolished before the virus is able to escape," Wesker said, his voice even and cool. The pale man still approached, no more than a few feet away. "Leaving it as it is now would be foolish."
The creature leaned in and charged with right arm arching upward. Wesker darted out of the way as its massive fist plumed to the concrete. The floor rocked from the impact. Wesker had just gotten his footing when the creature charged again. Its massive coated body was all he managed to spot. A massive hand hit him on the side of his face. Wesker flew across the station, slammed into the side of the train, and crumbled to the floor. Spots darted across his eyes. He tried to get up but combined with the lack of breath and excruciating pain in the side of his face, Wesker couldn't. The left side of his sunglasses was shattered, leaving them dangling from one ear.
This was creature wasn't anything Wesker had known of before. Yes, specimen before had been fast, and they had been powerful. But this was something else entirely. Wesker reached for his holster and gripped his gun. He saw the creature lumber over. It's covered eyes were locked onto him. Wesker just pulled the Beretta out when it grabbed him by the neck. Again, his back slammed against the side of the train, robbing Wesker of any breath he had regained.
So, this is how it ends, he thought, staring into the pale face. Because of one miscalculation. The creature raised its other fist, brought it back. Wesker grabbed the arm which held him, but all the strength was gone.
"Wait," Vladimir said. The creature froze, fist hanging in the air. Vladimir looked down, smirking. Rage flared within Wesker, burning inside him like a flame.
All of this was just a spectacle. To mock him. To show who was in control.
Wesker kept his face passive, despite his already swollen left eye and the cut on his eyebrow. "I think our comrade has learned his lesson."
The creature released Wesker, and he crumbled to the floor.
"You still have much usefulness to Lord Spencer," Vladimir said. "Permission for your proposal—granted." The tunnel echoed with his cold laughter. Wesker laid there in the ruins of the Ecliptic Express, even when Vladimir and his lackey left. He needed to master his rage. All of this was leading to something greater. Wesker just had to keep that in mind. Still, there was another thought that kept repeating—someday, very soon, he was going to rip out Sergei Vladimir's heart out with his bare hands.