Chapter Six
The syringe was posed over the tiny animal's sleeping body, its sharp needle shining with the yellow liquid that had escaped the tip. Angelica hesitated, holding her breath with quiet regret. Skeets was oblivious to her presence, his pudgy body curled about a stuffed puppy that she had given him after the rat had shown signs of withdrawn attitude. He had been living in a cage of fellow rodents until Marcus had chosen the tiny animal for testing, and after a few days, Angelica had become slightly attached to the little creature. It responded to her whenever she came near the glass cage, his red eyes wide as he scampered for a treat. Bacon….not cheese as one would think for a rat, was his favorite treat, and despite Marcus' fussing, Burrows sneaked a few pieces a week to her furry friend.
But now, they were at a crucial part of the testing. Attempting to use refined virus strains had failed on larger subjects like pigs, monkeys, and what not. So, in an attempt to still remain productive, Marcus had gone back to rodent trials. Burrows had remained apprehensive about the entire project, but was ever more so now that her favorite rat was being subjected to the sometimes violent tests. The rat had become quite the extraordinary piece of vision however, his clear, ruby eyes attentive and seemingly far more intelligent than before. His eating habits had become voracious due to a spike in metabolism, and all the aptitude tests had gone off the charts since the first dose of what Marcus was calling "Virus type T" .
When she had walked into the laboratory, Marcus had excitedly begun lecturing her on the new strain he wanted to test. Fishing out Skeets from his bin, the elated doctor placed the rodent in a larger, more open version of the previous tank. Several smaller rats milled about inside, mindlessly eating bits of hay and corn feed. Dark circles stood out against the older man's pale skin when Angelica had dared to scrutinize him. Her conclusion was he had pulled an all-nighter, and developed the newest strain that he eagerly wanted to experiment on the unsuspecting Skeets with. Angelica now stood poised, her hands in the hazmat gloves that were attached to the wall of the experiment tank. Her arms up to the elbows were in; where as the rest of her body lay out behind the shielding glass. The needle was inside the tank, being gripped by her small hand. Slowly she sucked in a breath, inserting the tiny piece of metal into the spinal area above the rat's neck, his tiny body squirming from the sting.
Angelica blinked slowly as the rat waddled away from her grasp, and back to the feeding bowl. Nothing seemed to be happening yet…then again not every experiment was instantaneous. Giving Marcus a side glance, an eyebrow arched over protective goggles she wore. "What am I supposed to be watching for…" James moved to her side, his gaze transfixed on the glass. He seemed confused as well. Rubbing his ear, the man tapped a finger on the glass. Skeets looked up hopefully for his normal treat, crimson eyes slanting ever so slightly. In his mouth was a large piece of corn, teeth gnashing at the substance quickly. Seemingly disappointed at what he was seeing, Marcus moved back to his computer terminal. Typing for a few minutes, he remained deathly silent as Angelica watched him with her inquisitive eyes. A sigh broke from the older man's lungs.
"Keep an eye on his vitals for the next forty eight hours. If nothing changes, then it will indicate that the virus remained dormant. If something alters, make me aware. I have some more calculations do to on the time proximities. I will take my leave…" Gathering a few of his scattered belongings, Marcus gave his companion a salutatory nod before heading for the door. Angelica took a hand out of a glove, a goodbye wave sending off before putting it back in the item. Looking back at her favorite rat as he ate, Angelica eyed him carefully. Was it her, or were his eyes becoming strange? Shaking off the feeling, she withdrew her hands. Moving to the same computer that her partner was using previously, she logged on with her own pass codes. Setting up the monitors to directly feed to her terminal in her personal apartment, Angelica switched off the monitor to 'power save' mode. Picking up a briefcase of paperwork that Marcus had left her, the tired woman rubbed the back of her neck. Moving towards the door, her exhausted hand flicked off the night switch. "Good night, Skeets. I will see you tomorrow."
When the darkness fell, a soft hint of red pranced about the see through cage. Beady eyes blinked slowly, teeth pulling back over the animal's lips in a soft hiss. Something felt wrong inside, something felt bad….and the Skeets knew it…
…
Wesker sat back in his office chair, raising and eyebrow at Birkin. William was so fidgety now a days, especially with the pending arrival of his first born. None the less, Albert craned his neck back in relaxation, despite his companion's eagerness to retreat home for the day. They both had been down in the Estate labs, trying to work out the various kinks in the updated computer systems they were installing. Ahh..Windows 98 was the new craze of speed and efficiency.
Tapping a slim finger to his wrist watch, Wesker huffed out air through his aggravated lungs. Sawdust was still not an allergy he liked to admit…
"When is Spencer supposed to contact us, Will? I have another meeting to attend to. Some local who wants Umbrella to sponsor a task force for the area…just another charity mark off of course." Birkin nodded understandingly, watching the conference screen that was still blinking the Umbrella logo in circular, orbital motions. The pair had been waiting for almost half an hour past their normal stay, and now it was beginning to show. Birkin had repeatedly sharpened a pencil, whilst Wesker seemed content to grandiosely check his watch every now and then. Finally, the screen focused on the image of their employer, looking quite pleased with himself. His graying hair was slicked back, and the CEO was dressed in a bathrobe, his personal abode filling out the back round.
"Ahh, gentlemen, sorry to have kept you waiting. There was a…personal matter I had to attend to." Spencer's eyes flitted off to something off screen, and neither of the other men dared to pry. Drawing his attention back, Ozwell lifted a posh cigar to his mouth, lighting and taking in the smoky curls of tobacco before heaving them out of his lungs. "As you well know, I informed Marcus of his…termination last month. He did not seem to take the news well, but over time he has not re-mentioned the incident. This had led me to believe that he has been making plans…" Wesker leaned forward, his cold blues narrowed in probing inquiry. "Plans?" Ozwell covered his lips briefly, a sickly couch rattling in his lungs. Recovering quickly, the indulgent man took another drag from his addiction. Exhaling gently, the smoke curled about his head demonically, filtering about in the yellow light. "I have cause to believe that if he succeeds in the virus reconstruction, that James is planning to sell his findings to the BioHaze Corporation. They are a relatively new pharmaceutical company that is based out of Japan… I have phone records that indicate that he has been in contact with their CEO for about three weeks now."
At this, Birkin set down his extremely sharp pencil. The man's dark eyes seemed amazed, if not shocked at the information he was hearing. Wesker merely took it in stride, his voice as even as ever. "Then I suppose that our discussion at the beginning of the quarter may have to be put in effect. That is, if common reasoning will not sway him." Birkin felt his stomach turn over, his palms beginning to become sweaty. Wesker was a harder man than he in the…physical deterrent area. When things had to be cleaned up, Albert knew that his job would be called upon. Those who posed a threat were fore by warned, and if they didn't comply…were dealt with accordingly.
Birkin's eye twitched ever so slightly, his thumbs lacing over one another. Spencer cocked his head at the behavior, whitish blue eyes piercing and devilish. "Do you have a problem, William?" Birkin's head snapped up, his face flushed with unprocessed emotions. Slowly his loosened from his paralyzed state, shaking his head in answer. "No, but you have to understand there is some emotional attachment of sorts. The man practically raised us. It's hard to see him reduced to nothing more than a replaceable employee." Ozwell's coy attitude vanished, his clear eyes ablaze with disquieted rage. The veins upon his neck began to bulge ever so slightly, his shaking hand forcing another rift of calming tobacco through his system.
Within a few seconds, the man had regained his composure, the brief spit being wiped away like a flash of lightning. Frigidly, the man on the computer monitor glared at his protégé, not wasting an ounce of passion. His voice was eerily serene when he spoke. "Emotional attachment is idiotic at this level of involvement. If you are unwilling to do what is asked of you, William, things can never go farther than a desk job. And you should learn by now that everyone is replaceable. But now, if that is all, I have more things to attend to. And Wesker, if any other problems should arise, take care of them the same way as instructed with Marcus. Good evening, gentlemen." The screen went black, its shining surface reflecting the two men that watched it. The conversation was over.
Wesker stood, glaring at the wall. William shifted his gaze to him, noting the body language. He was going to get a lecture of some sorts..
"When will you learn that this is a non-negotioniable situation, William?" Birkin stood from his chair as well, breathing through gritted teeth. "It's different for me, Albert. I have things to lose..my wife…my family..Sherry. I have reservations on it. That is all. I'm not backing out. If we are needed to do what's asked of us, I won't hesitate." A pained look at the first comment washed over Wesker's aqua hues, but vanished before being detected. For what it was worth, his friend was right. He had nothing to lose. Running a casual hand through his blonde tresses, Wesker shot his business partner a stern look. "You had better not, or the both of us may go down. And that's not a option I am willing to dwell on. Don't let me down, William. Everything we are doing is worth the future we help create." Checking his wrist watch once again, the buffeted man sighed daintily. Fatigue was beginning to show, and Wesker hated to reveal any weakness. Replacing his frown with a smirk, his eyebrow rose. "Well, I'm off into town. Would you care to join me deny funds to a deserving cause?"
Birkin shook his head, opening a file drawer and selecting a few from the mass. "I still have work here to do. Plus, I believe I will dig further in the BioHaz company situation. We may have a problem, we may not. I'm going to find out for myself." Wesker nodded, and strode towards the door. After his looming silhouette finally faded from view, Birkin sat down in his office chair once more. Opening the folder he had fished from the drawer, the man ran a hand through his hair. Wesker said that everything was going to be worth it, a classic 'the ends justify the means' mindset. He had that, but not as stonily placed as his friend's. William Birkin began to read James Marcus' file profile, his mind wondering that if everything was worth it…
Was a secure future…worth …murder?