Chapter 2

Chris walked down the narrow hallway that served as the S. T. A. R. S. base of operations. The first office on the left belonged to Barry Burton, the Alpha Team Weapon Specialist. Barry was gone. Through the window Chris could see a picture of Barry's wife Kathy and his two daughters. He loved those three more than anyone else on earth.

Chris had known Barry for years. He was already a veteran in the Air Force by the time they met. It was during this time that Chris discovered Barry's love for guns. He was an expert in automatic rifles, shotguns, and even R. P. Gs. But what Barry loved most were pistols. They were his second family, and his favorite son was the Anaconda Magnum: a gun bigger than most men's arm. It was nicknamed the Handcannon, and it earned its mantra. Once, Barry invited Chris to his house to shoot at a broken toilet in the yard. They had planned to take turns, but it only took Barry one shot to reduce the porcelain to nothing more than a few shards and a smoke of clay ash.

Chris continued down the whole. He passed Wesker's office and Bravo Team Leader Enrico Marini. Marini was also absent. Chris remembered he had to examine a potential recruit. There were rumors that the new recruit was an eighteen-year-old fresh out of college. A rookie straight of college seemed like enough of a joke, but an eighteen-year-old joining S. T. A. R. S. seemed ridiculous. No one would be stupid enough to make that call.

Chris heard a sudden movement of footsteps. He turned around to see Richard Aiken and Kenneth Sullivan entering from a door near the shooting range entrance. Both had smiles a mile wide.

"You almost beat my record."

"Next time Sully."

"Don't count on," Sullivan laughed. "Welcome aboard, man.

Chris reached to shake their hands, but Aiken gave him a high-five and said, "Don't be so serious. You're off duty right now. Gotta lighten up."

Sullivan and Aiken were quite a pair. The two were partners on the police force before being recommended by Barry for their current jobs. Aiken, Communications Expert, was a skinny young man of Irish descent. His horrible dancing skills were infamous on the force. He was, however, a very charming guy. Chris new few people with as much empathy as Aiken.

Sullivan was the only African American currently working for S. T. A. R. S.; a fact he joked about often. Chris new him better than anyone other than Barry. He was both strong and intelligent. His chemistry skills even earned him a special position as Field Scout and Hazardous Environments Expert. He did, however, have real doubts about his position. Biological weapons were not a prevalent threat in the Arklay Mountains. He wondered why Barry even gave him the recommendation. But his new job was much more prestigious so why complain.

Chris suddenly realized something new. "I just finished being reviewed. How did you both know about my score anyway?

"Think Wesker was the only one watching you," Sullivan said with another laugh. "The range is rigged with cameras, man. Hell, Wesker gave us the thumbs up as soon as you were finished. You were the last one to know you made the cut."

"Congratulations Point-Man Redfield," said Aiken with a mock salute.

"Thanks Aiken," said Chris returning the gesture. " But, you guys are all Bravo Team members. Where's the rest of Alpha Team?"

"You just missed your Vehicle Specialist, Joseph Frost," said Aiken. "He's helping your pilot, Brad Vickers, with the choppers. Ours has been having trouble in the test runs. Two brand new helicopters donated by Umbrella Corp. and they're already breaking down. Do they only expect us to use them once or something?"

"Barry went to see Irons," said Sullivan. "He's getting everything sorted out with you." Marini's testing a Field Medic. I heard she's eighteen."

"That has to be bull," said Aiken.

"Well, I got to be honest guys," interrupted Chris changing the subject. "When Wesker told me to go meet the team, I thought I'd get some kind of welcoming party."

"Busy, busy, busy bees," said Aiken.

"Don't worry," said Sullivan, "we've got a party planned for tonight. Everybody's getting going out for a drink, and there's only one catch."

"Oh, God. Let me guess."

Both Sullivan and Aiken smiled. "Drinks are on you."