...tick.
Clock. The word finally came to Claire as she sat on her haunches in the prison-like cell. The room was nothing but a blank canvas washed with a brilliant white, except the black clock tacked high on the wall before her. She wondered what its purpose was. She could not tell time here, and even if she had the ability, it would do her no good, as the only exit to her room was the locked door behind her.
Rubbing her eyes, she returned to her bed, the metal frame squeaking violently as she lay down. Who am I? She wondered. Claire had come to remember simple things, words she had learned when she was young, but they returned to her painstakingly slow, after many hours of grueling thought. There were a few things she could remember such as a motorcycle, and an accident, but her identity slipped from her grasp each time.
Suddenly the clock stopped, the room becoming unbearably silent. Swallowing hard, she stood up, trying to reach to reach it, but found herself unable to. Looking around, the only object was her pallet, bolted firmly to the walls. No matter.
Grabbing it, she wrenched it from its secure resting place, bending the fastenings as she pushed it under the broken timepiece. Standing on its flimsy mattress, she grabbed the clock, finding that it too, held fast.
Twisting her neck slightly in anger, she could feel something within her veins begin to boil, a strange alien feeling that told her to destroy it. "Obliterate it," it whispered.
Clenching her fist, she gave in to the urge, slamming it hard as its hard plastic frame shattered into a thousand pieces across the cold tile floor. She didn't notice the blood now trickling down from her knuckles, staining her bed sheets. Instead, she focused on the mysterious camera that now looked her in the eye. "You're being watched," her mind warned. "Get rid of it!"
Static noise filled the laboratory as the camera viewing Claire Redfield went black. Numerous scientists scurried about to get it back online, as Wesker leaned back. Stupid fools. "She found the camera," he finally spoke, a harsh tone hinted in his voice. "Perhaps you should be worried about the lock on her door."
Nodding furiously, the two scientists left the room in a hurry, leaving the monitors completely unattended. A smirk snaked its way across Wesker's face as he leaned forward and propelled himself toward them. Sitting down, he quickly entered a number of security passwords, a command prompt demanding an ID number. 948301-AW.
"Access granted," a woman's voice spoke, the computer screen now displaying numerous charts. He clicked through several until finding Claire's. Her reports had definitely been taken, each one highlighted in red indicating sharp increases in motor and comprehension skills. Christ.
Wesker memorized the page, quickly finding another chart on blood cell count, her levels far above normal for an average human being. Also, a note had been attached. High levels of T cell strands have been found. Specimen has evolved to include the virus within its blood cells, thus completing the first stage.
Printing out a few pages, Wesker grabbed them quickly before logging out. Turning on his headset, he spoke clearly, "Ada."
A few moments passed. "Yes?"
"It has begun. If Umbrella seeks to use Claire for their own advantages, they are clearly mistaken. If she continues to progress forward, it is no secret that Umbrella will seek to have her clean up their little mess, leaving their hands untied," he told her, searching the room for his black trenchcoat.
"Sounds like Umbrella. I have found additional information pertaining to the G virus, left by Birkin. Looks like they planned on using it," Ada told him, her voice crackling slightly under the shaky connection.
"Have you retrieved the data?" he asked coolly.
"It's been destroyed by the team Umbrella sent in. There's nothing left."
Clenching his jaw, he felt like punching something. Or someone. "Well, it is important that you remember our goal- our GOAL is to RETRIEVE the sample. By any means necessary," he scolded her, waiting to hear her pathetic response.
"I'll see what I can do. What do you plan on doing with the girl?" she asked huffily.
"I plan to take her to the extraction point we had discussed earlier. Inform Parasol of my arrival. And whatever you do, don't be late," he said, cutting off the connection. This should be interesting.
The continued to flicker, its electrical wiring nearly severed by the rage Claire had thrown. Lying on her back, she thought nothing other than how much she despised the people who chained her in this room like an animal, with no means of escaping. Screaming, she was answered by the clicking of the door as it opened smoothly.
"You know, if you wish use your strength, why not just kill the scientists that come in here to medicate you?" the man said slowly, standing over her.
"I should kill you, you prick!" she uttered madly, unable to move.
"Do you know what they gave you?" he asked, pulling a piece of broken glass from her arm. She winced only slightly.
"How would I know? You're the scientist!" she growled mockingly.
"Most likely a sedative," he said more to himself than Claire.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing. It should wear off within the next few minutes judging by your awareness," he said, admiring the blood that was spattered on the floor.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, seeing the grin upon his face.
"I can help you escape from here. Isn't that what you wish?" he asked calmly.
"Yes. But you are one of the bastards who put me here. You're no different from them!" she said, feeling movement return to her limbs. Quietly, as he turned his back, she grabbed for a piece of the shattered light. Ever so slowly, she stood up, lunging for his back. "Too slow," her mind said as she did so.
Turning so quickly that she hardly had time to comprehend his reaction, she was instantly slammed against a wall, the shard of glass within her hand held to her own neck.
"Let me help you understand something," Wesker started, adoring the fear in her eyes as she saw his true self. "I am stronger than you. It is not wise to attack me, the person who can single handedly save you from your prison. If I wished it, you would no longer exist," he said, pressing the glass into her skin. "Perhaps the only way for you to understand is for me to hurt you," he spoke through gritted teeth as a bead of blood appeared.
"I'm not afraid of dying," she rebuked, a smile playing on her own face. "Do it," she dared him. Although she couldn't explain it, she knew that he wouldn't kill her. She was somehow important to him.
"That is a start," he said, releasing her. "You're coming with me," he said, fixing his sunglasses that had become crooked in the encounter. "Now."
Trembling slightly, she leaned against the wall in a sudden adrenaline rush, which blurred her vision considerably. Overcoming its sickness, she stumbled towards him, finally feeling the pain in her sliced arm. He led the way, twisting through corridors and down flights of stairs until they reached another locked door similar to the one in her room.
"Security code required," the same computerized voice said through a hidden speaker. Typing into the pin pad, the door unbolted. Inside, Claire found many holding tanks, strange creatures and forms held within them as they walked briskly to the opposite door. Pausing slightly, Wesker turned and went to one of the terminals, retracting a small metal card from its back before rejoining her.
Opening this door required an ID scan, but Wesker had managed to disable it as they passed through it, going up the stairwell towards the helipad, where a chopper was waiting. Crossing across the asphalt landing, Wesker checked his holster for the M9 Beretta pistol he carried. It was still there. "Take off, here are the coordinates," he demanded, handing a piece of paper to the pilot.
"Under what authorization?" the other guard in the helicopter asked.
"Classified. Level 6 authorization," Wesker answered smoothly.
"Sorry sir," the man said, joining the pilot in the cockpit.
Wesker seated himself, finding a laptop lying in a black briefcase before him. Smiling, he opened the screen, inserting the card he had taken from the labs into the USB port. Opening a command module, he typed in a series of numbers before hitting enter, beginning a data transfer. If everything went as planned, Ada would receive the files, and he wouldn't need to carry around the flash drive. He already knew Umbrella had tabs on them.
Once finished, he threw it out the window into the green forest below them, laughing at his success. Everything had lined up according to plan. "What shall I do with you, Redfield?" he thought of asking Claire in his mind, mixed emotions crossing his face. He wanted to kill her, just for being the sibling of Chris. But he had a far better plan of action, one that would work even better as a leverage on his old nemesis.
Claire didn't seem interested in his preoccupation and merely stared out the window, oblivious of what was in store for her.