Chapter 8

There was no time to break Timothy Donetsk's legs tonight...and how Wesker itched to do it. Not many people could get under his skin but his urge to see the man scream was festering within him. There was, however, no time. His researchers were probably destroying one another in a panic with the T line and Birkin wouldn't call him if he didn't think it was worth Wesker's time. Or his own.

He arrived at the Raccoon City Research Facility. The security guards stepped out of his way as their stares lingered. Although it was Birkin's Facility, Wesker was as much of a presence, though unofficial. Men became uneasy when it came to the experiments held within the labs. They never saw them... but they heard them, and it was enough to keep them away from a man who never shuttered, walking through those doors.

He picked up the chart in the T line room, now dressed in a white overcoat, as he made his way towards the office of Birkin. The door was wide open, which gave Wesker the hideous view of disorganization and utter chaos. Papers were all over the room, a collage of formulas on a gigantic white board, and a set of empty but used coffee cups crowded the room. If Wesker didn't know any better, he would say the place had been ransacked. But Birkin had been like this since he was 16, as Albert recalled. It was the mark of a genius and that of relentless ambition. Which was probably the reason why Birkin was the closest thing Wesker had to a friend. He moved along to the labs where he knocked on the glass door and gained a certain scrawny, hunched individual's attention. He immediately got up and opened the airlock door.

"It's about time you've gotten here."

"Apologies. What is it that you wanted to speak about?"

"Come and take a look at this." Birkin said, ushering his tall colleague into the room and towards a microscope.

"It's amazing." The enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable.

Wesker lifted his sunglasses and looked down into the instrument, switching the lenses to see closer.

Remarkable.

"It's Regenitive." he stated.

"It's not only that! Albert, it rebuilds old cells, but it constructs them with with a superior membrane!"

Wesker paused in thought.

"Are you saying it reengineers cells?"

"Precisely."

"And you say you found this? Where?"

"It was in the old databases. Labeled under incomplete and failed projects. It's still unstable, but from what I've been observing, it doesn't seem to be causing any negative cell mutations."

"Have you tested it?"

"I'm not even supposed to know about this, Albert. I've done a few tests with rodents. Only a quarter seem to survive."

"I thought you said there weren't any negative effects..."

"you don't get it." Birkin said, squeezing his fists and shaking his hands around Wesker's personal space.

"survive after death."

Wesker grew silent.

"With no, vulnerable mutations! The behavior of the rats remained completely normal! With the exception of excelled motor skills. Don't you see? This isn't a weaponized virus like the T strain. It's an almost solid genetic upgrade."

Wesker didn't need to ask Birkin if he was sure. The man was the most thorough scientist on the planet.

"And the instability?"

"I'm still trying to work out the kinks. But the enhancements seem to wear off in the matter of 74 hours. The test subjects still survived... It so odd." he said, now in deep thought.

"What do you think?" Birkin whipped around, looking at Wesker with eagerness.

"No one else knows I have this."

Wesker knew exactly what William was asking. He needed a human test subject. One he could trust. One that would be completely compliant and competent with the data.

"See what you can do about the instability and then I will consider."

"You know I wouldn't ask you, if it wasn't relatively safe."

sure, you would, William.

"Fix it. And I will seriously consider. How is your precious G-virus?" He said changing the subject. It went unspoken that that conversation was over.

"It still needs work. It's regenitive cells are perfect, but it's not perfected yet. Though.... when I do finish it, It should be even more powerful than than the T strain."

"Does Umbrella know about this?"

"Of course. They wouldn't give me a lab for just anything. Why."

"Just be careful, William. Lest we forget Dr. Marcus' case."

"That was completely different, Albert."

Wesker didn't say anything, but instead made his way out the door and down the hall. There was no frantic yelling or the shuffling of scientists in his hearing range. Just the low hum of the ventilators shutting on and off. The glass door to the T-line opened for him as he stepped into a nearly empty room.

It was dark except for the low radiance of monitors and life support systems. Small beeps rang in and out of his ears; a calming sound he had grown accustomed to since he was 18. He was alone with the most beautiful thing he had ever helped create. The Tyrant. It's massive frame hung delicately in the large tube like container.

This was his hole in one. This, was the thing that would get him places. Once the B.O.W had been completed, all he would need was the combat data. He would have to find a way. It was that simple. Only a few more weeks.. Something had to be done.

He leaned up against the dashboard in deep thought, throwing his sunglasses to the side and rubbed between his eyes.

Donetsk was bound to try and leak the virus again. Most likely within the city. That meant two things to Wesker: a problem and an opportunity. If he could some how persuade him to release it in the Arklay Mountains, it would be easily contained and it would mean fewer causalities. Not to mention, The combat data could be easily gathered within the security lab. Released in the city would be catastrophic. It would be nearly impossible to record data in an uncontrolled environment. Donetsk did not know this. He didn't have the years of training and experience Wesker had in the field. Which made his access to bioweapons, dangerous.. to everyone.

The Journalist was his answer. He would find out who she really was. And then he would play her like a violin.