Chapter One
Genesis
When Alice was a little girl growing up in Columbus, she imagined that having her wedding picture taken would be a glorious moment of joy. She would be surrounded by friends and family, a band playing her favorite music and tons of food and drink. Dressed in a beautiful white dress, her future husband in a tuxedo (it had to be a tuxedo; she would never marry a man who didn't wear a tuxedo to the wedding), they would stand as close to each other as they could, reveling in the feeling of their embrace, while the photographer said something ridiculous like "Say cheese!".
The moment of pure bliss would be frozen forever in that photograph.
The mansion on the outskirts of Raccoon City was a long way from Ohio, both physically and metaphorically. Two and a half decades removed from that childhood fantasy, Alice stood in the white dress hugging a man she barely knew while a photographer employed by the Umbrella Corporation mumbled something noncommittal and snapped another picture.
At least her "husband" was wearing a tuxedo.
It was all part of her cover. Alice had taken over as head of security at the Hive, the semi-secret underground facility owned and operated by the Umbrella Corporation. However, the promotion came with a new assignment. The person heading up security at the Hive had to spend the first three months on the job with what was considered either the best or the worst job in Umbrella's Security Division: mansion duty.
The mansion - a huge estate that looked to Alice like it belonged in a museum or a Jane Austen movie, rather than in a suburb of a small American town - was located in the Foxwood Heights neighborhood, three kilometers outside the Raccoon City limits.
Raccoon itself only had an official population of approximately 853,000, including the five hundred Umbrella employees who lived and worked in the Hive. The existence of the Hive was not kept secret - it was impossible to kidnap five hundred employees, many of whom were at the highest levels of their respective fields, without someone noticing they were missing - but it was not widely publicized either. Umbrella maintained its public headquarters in downtown Raccoon, where everyone could see it: the public face of the company that offered the best computer technology and healthcare products and services in the country.
Part of Alice's job - and that of her fictional husband - was to keep the public from knowing more than that.
Working at the mansion meant posing as the couple who lived in the strange old mansion that all the guidebooks in Raccoon discouraged tourists from visiting. Although it was an architectural marvel - built by an eccentric millionaire in the 1960s - and rumored to be full of trap doors, secret corridors and other reflections of the millionaire's obsession with spy thrillers, it was currently occupied by a reclusive couple who didn't like strangers knocking on their door and asking to see their house. More than one nosy visitor had found himself escorted out of the area by the Foxwood Heights Police Department - or sometimes even the Raccoon City police - for trespassing.
That couple's reclusive tendencies were a direct result of them not being a real couple, but the last two members of Umbrella's Security Division who had taken the service out of the mansion. Because, unbeknownst to the people writing those tourist brochures, the mansion was actually a secret access point to the Hive. Given the nature of Umbrella's work in the Hive, the mansion was the first line of defense against everything from reporters to industrial sabotage to outright theft.
In theory, that made his job critically important to Umbrella's security. But it was something that bothered Alice.
In reality, her job was boring as hell. Her life there was so boring that she wanted permission to blow off the heads of the intruders and hide the bodies underground or in the grounds of the mansion itself. Her life was in constant stagnation.
A day after the picture was taken, service at the mansion had begun for Alice and her new partner, who went by the name of Percival S. Parks. For obvious reasons, he did not use his first name. The middle initial stood for Spencer, and he said everyone called him simply "Spence".
Unlike Alice, who had been with the company for five years after a distinguished but frustrating stint in the Treasury Department, Spence was new to Umbrella.
The two would spend the next three months in mock wedded bliss. They had been presented with gold wedding rings with the romantic inscription "Property of Umbrella Corporation" on the inside. Pictures of the couple had been placed in strategic locations throughout the mansion's enormous interior.
When she explored the library, she discovered that all the books that had been there when she and Spence had their "wedding photos" taken had been replaced. She recognised about half of the titles as her favorite books or ones she intended to read someday, and guessed that the other half were on a similar list of Spence's.
An entire living room was devoted to an entertainment center that included state-of-the-art CD and DVD players (all from Perrymyk Sounds, a subsidiary of the Umbrella Corporation), shelves full of CDs and DVDs, half of which were of his favorite music and movies, a wide-screen plasma television (also from Perrymyk) and two very comfortable armchairs.
Adjoining the living room was a corner room with a beautiful display, filled with what looked to Alice like sculpting equipment: a kiln, clay, a small firing kiln and several small tables. She guessed that Spence was an amateur potter in his spare time.
Next to the studio were two small rooms with much smaller windows that offered the same view as the studio window. Each room had a desk, a computer, a fax machine, a telephone, a PDA (mounted on the computer) and an incredibly comfortable-looking leather chair to operate all that machinery. These were to be their offices.
The bathroom was a luxurious affair, all marble, with a claw-foot bathtub and a shower cubicle the size of a bathtub. Her favorite soaps and shampoos were in the cabinet.
The wardrobes were full of clothes that, Alice assumed, fit her perfectly. Some of them were even aesthetically pleasing. The wardrobe was full of perfectly pressed underwear, with the exception of the bottom drawer, where her stash of emergency weapons was kept under lock and key.
They had been told that they were only to use the weapons in the event of a real threat. That meant not to use them against innocent civilians.
Alice had been sorely tempted to ask where on the ladder the Jehovah's Witnesses were. She loved the idea of meeting one of them at the door with a fully armed MP5K.
As usual, her bosses had been thorough.
"Looks like we're in for the fun work," Spence said, walking into the bedroom and taking a seat on the huge couch.
"If you can call this fun."
"What, you don't like lounging around in the nicest mansion in the state doing nothing for three months?"
"Not really. I didn't take this job to sit on my ass all day."
Spence leaned back. The chair unfolded and the bottom part rose to support his feet. "Too bad, that's a nice ass."
Turning to him, she gave him a withering look, cocking her gun.
He smiled, "Sorry, I couldn't help it. Besides, with any luck, this will be a stepping stone, maybe we end up working for the big bosses or the commandos."
Alice snorted. "The Janitors? No, thanks."
"They're not Janitors, Alice." Spence sounded genuinely indignant at her characterisation.
"Maybe not, but the Sanitation team has delusions of grandeur. I mean, come on, the head guy calls himself 'One'. This isn't the CIA, we're a private company. We don't need to go around with stupid James Bond code names, why can't he use a real name?"
"I don't know what to say, but... maybe for security reasons?"
"If you keep asking for things above your pay grade," she walked over to the make-up table. All types of different brands were represented, but she never used any. "Then, I'm going to have to kill you, Percival'." She smiled.
This time, he glared at her. "I like you too."
The smile turned into a full grin. She decided that, if it was her turn to work at the mansion, at least it would be with someone she least fond of. The Security Division was full of assholes, including the self-styled "One", so at least she was grateful for that. Grateful that she didn't have to deal with someone weak.
"Anyway, what do you think of the color black?"
He blinked. "Black? Uniforms?"
"No. I meant my hair."
"Oh?"
Grimacing at Spence, she said, "I hate that they made me bleach my hair for this mission."
"Come on, you look beautiful?"
Alice let out a laugh. "All those words mean is that you have to come up with better excuses to get laid with this ass. I've passed every damn test they've given me, fought harder, shot harder and outsmarted every man on my level. The women who got promoted were less qualified than me, but also..." She hesitated.
"Also what?" asked Spence.
Trying not to sound too catty, Alice said, "Well, let's just say you wouldn't congratulate any of them on what a nice ass they had."
"Ah. Dania. She got a higher post?"
"Something like that," Alice said, thinking the people working for Umbrella were all the same morons, no matter what. "They kept me like a guard dog while the guys I came with went to the Umbrella facility in Japan."
"So you were set here?"
"Yes." She sighed and sat down on the bed. The mattress was firm, but it gave, and she felt like one of those fancy Swedes that didn't have coil springs but a kind of foam. "The job isn't much of an improvement - especially this shitty little assignment - but at least I'm getting paid better."
"You're right." Spence smiled. "Well, for what it's worth, I've heard a lot of good things about you."
"From who?" asked Alice with a frown.
"From everyone I've asked. 'Alice kicks ass,' they called you."
She rolled her eyes, as she hoped that particular nickname had gone away. After all, it had been five years since the training exercise in which she had sent her training officer - One's predecessor, a man named Martinez - to the hospital with a single well-placed kick to the shin. But it seemed they were just saying it behind her back.
Turning to her new companion, she asked, "So what's your story?"
"What makes you think I have a story?"
"I've been here five years, Spence. Everyone in Security has a story. For one thing, someone who works here and also sculpts has to have a story."
Hearing that, Spence frowned. "Spence?"
Alice looked back at him. "You don't sculpt?"
"Uh, no."
"Then who's the oven for?"
Spence suddenly tilted his head back and laughed. "Oh, Jesus. I know what it is. When I filled out my application here, they asked me about hobbies. I don't have any hobbies, at least none that aren't work-related. I mean, yes, I run and I exercise, but that's all for work. So I said I like making pottery. I just pulled it out of my sleeve."
Frowning, Alice said, "That's too bad; you should have told the truth."
Spence smiled.
"Well," Alice said, "whatever. That still doesn't answer my question."
"What question?"
"What's your story? This place is crawling with ex-lawmen who ended up here because everywhere else sucks. There's got to be a story there."
"Actually, that's not why I came to Umbrella."
"Oh?"
Spence folded back the couch, got up and joined her on the bed. He bounced on it a couple of times as he sat up, like a little kid playing trampoline with his butt. "Nice. Firm." She realized he was looking at her body instead of her face.
"It's definitely a good mattress."
"Who says I was talking about the mattress?"
"Slow down, Percival," she said.
"Hey, you do have a nice ass."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"You already answered it. I was doing well as a cop in Chicago, but Umbrella has one thing that no police department in this country has."
She gave him a questioning look when he didn't elaborate right away.
"Massive amounts of money. I do the same job as I did at the CPD, but at five times the salary." He leaned back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. "I also have a better pension. Not to mention being able to live in a big mansion with a beautiful woman for three months."
Alice got out of bed and laughed, "You don't give up, do you?"
"I'm persistent. I don't give up until I get what I want. It's what makes me good at my job."
"Good thing, because I'm certainly not going to settle for the way you look."
"Hey, what about my charming ways?"
"Why do you think I am still talking to you instead of shooting you?"
Spence mimicked being shot in the chest. "Ow! Heart shot."
"Don't worry, Spence, if I ever really shoot you, it'll be between the eyes."
"That's not very romantic."
Her voice grew serious. "This job isn't romantic. It's mostly boring, pointless and irritating, until they need you to act, at which point it's exciting, nerve-wracking and requires you to be absolutely perfect or you're really dead." He averted his gaze. "Romance doesn't come into it."
Even as she uttered those words, she thought about life with Spence for three months, guarding the secret door in the mirror, checking on people as they came and went, filling out daily reports that, after five years, she could do in her sleep, and otherwise just sitting and flipping through the books in that library or the DVDs in the living room.
A gaping sound echoed through the high-ceilinged mansion. Alice tensed and then realized it was the cordless phone on the bedside table next to the bed.
She reached over, picked it up and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"
"Janus," said the voice on the other end.
Alice knew that was the code word indicating that this was a security call. She immediately hung up the phone and headed for the living room. Spence got up and followed her.
Next to the Louis XIV sofa - which Alice had been afraid to sit on when she arrived for fear that a museum guard would shout at her not to touch the exhibits - was a beautiful wooden side table that looked as old as the sofa. It served as a piece of furniture, probably originally intended to hold drinks or table linen or something like that. It housed a red telephone that was connected to a telephone line installed under the side table through a hole drilled in the bottom that probably reduced the value of the piece by eighty percent. The receiver was attached to the hook by an old-fashioned coiled telephone cable. As good as telephone security was, a wired line was infinitely easier to secure and harder to penetrate.
Alice picked up the red phone. "Prospero."
The voice on the other end was the same androgynous voice that had called on the main phone. "Verified position."
At that moment, Alice let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It was a simple check call, to make sure she and Spence were properly settled. "We're in the house. All is well."
"Verified. Out."
The line went dead.
"And have a good night, too." She sighed, hung up the phone and closed the door to the side table cabinet.
Spence smiled. She decided he had a lovely smile. But she really couldn't say the same for his face.
"So, ten o'clock and all's well?"
"Same old," she said. "So, you want to wait for me in bed?"
He laughed. She liked his laugh too.
"Finally. I've been waiting for this for three months."
"Well, don't make me wait any longer."
Spence turned and began to walk to the bedroom. She went behind him and closed the doors to the room behind her. On her back waist behind her black top shirt, he pulled out a gun and pointed it at Spence in the back of the head. Then he turned around and the gun was pointed at his face.
"Alice. What are you doing?"
"I know you've been in contact with Lisa Broward recently."
"What?"
"I don't know what games you're up to. But my job is to protect the Umbrella Corporation at all costs."
She pulled the trigger.
Spence fell to the bed with a bullethole between his eyes.
Maybe this job wouldn't be so boring after all?
Note from author: I wanted to try something new. I've been bored with so many of the main characters' stories that I wanted to write a story from Alice's point of view and what would happen if she was loyal to the umbrella corporation. A villain. But at the same time change the course of the movies so "Afterlife" and "Retribution" would not be based on the same story. Since for Extinction a lot can change. In this story I let Spence have the opposite position to Alice and be Lisa's contact using her to expose Umbrella and at once leave and sell the virus on the black market. But how will the T-virus be released now? Well, you'll have to wait for the second chapter. And yes, I hope to have Alice infected since the first movie. And Wesker will also be in the story later on.