Chris Redfield peered out of the helicopter window and finally saw it. A structure jutting out of the middle of the ocean - maybe some sort of communications tower - that loomed over a series of railed platforms.
"Approaching Avalon Station receiving platform," their pilot said.
Chris glanced at his two fellow agents. Both were from Blue Umbrella, not the BSAA like he thought would be the case. Their chopper ride had been mostly silent, with a handful of questions and observations traded here and there.
"You know, they say life itself got started in the deep sea," Zetterberg said. He was the male agent, Swedish. A blond bear of a guy with a barrel chest, strong limbs, and a ruddy, bearded face. Seemed more like a rugby player than an operative.
"Couldn't have been that easy of a birth judging by what came out of it." The female agent, Kenway, had been full of caustic remarks the entire trip. She grinned sarcastically at her Swedish teammate. Maybe she was nervous, but Chris didn't think she had any reason to be - the woman was pure muscle. When Kenway wasn't firing off quips and snarkiness, there was a real intensity and focus to her.
The chopper banked sharply around the side of the landing platform. Closer to the station now, Chris could see just how large the structure was, surrounded with machinery larger than most homes and a series of decks that created a bewildering maze. If this was how big the receiving platform was, he couldn't begin to imagine what awaited them below the surface.
The chopper slowed, turned, and settled onto the orange hexagon of the platform's landing zone. Zetterberg yawned as Chris noticed someone was standing at the edge, waiting: a tall, regal woman in a sharkskin suit.
In Chris' experience, suits were never a good sign.
Kenway gathered her curly hair in a ponytail and cracked her neck. Zetterberg checked and double-checked his gear, ensuring everything was secure. Chris hoped he wasn't making a horrible mistake in accepting this mission, all isolated in the middle of nowhere with no possible escape...
The chopper landed. Chris thanked the pilot, opened the passenger door and stepped into the bracing air.
The woman nodded at their approach. "Agents Redfield, Kenway, and Zetterberg?"
A question more than a welcome. Chris noted the lack of attempt on her part to appear friendly. "Affirmative."
"I'm Sanaa Wilke, head of operations at Avalon. As the highest authority on the station, your team will be answering to me and me only." Her calm, clipped accent placed her as English, with an upper received pronunciation. Everything about her was sharp, from her slim face to her impeccably tailored clothing.
Zetterberg eyed her neutrally, silent as a statue. Kenway muffled something vague and non-committal. Kenway seemed the type not to care about status, especially when it was flaunted around her like a shiny toy. She was working damn hard to suppress an eye roll.
Chris cleared his throat. "We appreciate your cooperation, Miss Wilke. We promise not to be too much of an intrusion."
"Yes, well. I'm certain you know what speaks louder than words."
"I'm familiar."
"Allow me to introduce you to our newest employee, he just arrived an hour bef-"
She looked behind her and, finding only empty space, her eyebrows pinched in annoyance. "Dr. Mifune was right here a second ago. For one of the most respected archeologists of his field, he has the attention span of a bloody three year old."
Zetterberg scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, if it's alright with you Miss Wilke, we should get the rest of our bags."
Sanaa looked down at her tablet, a great deal more interested in the screen than what he'd just said. "Yes. Fine. Meet me by the hatch."
Kenway nudged Zetterberg in the ribs as they headed back to the idling helicopter. "Dunno about you but that welcome has me feeling all warm and fuzzy."
Chris started to join them when he noticed a figure walking away on an upper deck of the platform.
Adam Mifune didn't like noise.
At the approach of the helicopter, he covered his ears and walked around the platform structure until he was as far as he could go without falling into the sea. He wasn't used to the roar of helicopter blades or the chaotic churning of ocean waves. He was used to the soft drone of fluorescent lights in an archeology laboratory, the muted clack of fingers on a keyboard, and the occasional glug of a water cooler settling its contents.
When the helicopter finally landed and the noise was replaced with faraway conversation, Adam tried to relax. He was glad he wasn't the only stranger being introduced to the facility today, but the fact that he was accompanying operatives from a private military company shifted his anxiety into high gear.
"This is standard procedure," Sanaa tried to assure him during his plane ride over, "A watchdog group initiating an operations investigation is rather common in our line of work. It's actually considered a rite of passage for most field research teams these days. Nothing to worry about."
Eager to avoid awkward introductions, Adam ignored the conversation on the platform below him and opened up the book he was reading on the flight over. The setting sun cast a dense, orange glow across the water. He trained his eyes to stay on the page. Looking up and seeing nothing but miles of water disconcerted him. The ocean's vastness made the platform seem tiny, a child's toy that might be swept away at any moment.
"All happy families are alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way," a man approaching him said.
Adam nearly lept out of his skin. "What?"
"Couldn't help but notice the book jacket," he pointed. "Anna Karenina."
"Yeah, uh, it's a habit of mine. Tolstoy joins me on all my field expeditions."
"Not a bad choice. Though I'm more of a Kerouac guy. Chris Redfield."
"Adam Mifune."
They shook hands. Chris, tall and athletic with rugged good looks, looked more like an actor on the set of a superhero movie than someone who could quote Tolstoy from memory. His neglected stubble and dark, haunted eyes, however, hinted at a depth of character. A history.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Redfield."
"Should I be calling you Dr. Mifune?"
"I suppose that's my technical title. But just Adam is fine."
"Read your bio in the information package I was given. Hope you don't mind me saying you've got quite an impressive resume. A master's in information science, a PhD in geology, doctorates in paleontology and archeology. All by the age of 25."
"You're making me sound much more accomplished than I am." Adam shyly looked at the metal catwalk beneath them. His fellow lab workers had more PhDs and doctorates than they could fit on their office walls. Compared to them, he was still rather green.
Chris joined him by the railing. "Former coworker of mine graduated college at 18. She was an expert in chemistry and medicine by the time her peers were taking their SATs. And she was just as modest about her talents as you are."
"Well, there's a balance, I suppose. Devoting the last ten years of my life to higher education and then my career hasn't left room for much else. I've more or less skipped adolescence and fallen right into adulthood. Lucky me."
"There's a part of me that can relate, believe it or not."
"I choose to believe."
Adam took note of Chris' stance, his dark uniform fitted with weapons and various pouches, his serious, piercing expression. Although their introduction had been friendly... there was a kind of wall up around him. A sense of danger just beneath the surface.
"You're one of the Blue Umbrella agents, aren't you?"
"I suppose that's my technical title."
"Do you have any idea why Avalon's brought me here?"
"I was hoping to ask you the same question."
"They haven't told me anything. Just that they require my expertise and are willing to pay six years worth of my regular salary for a two-week contract. With, I might add, the likely possibility of extension and promotion. I basically dropped everything to sign the dotted line."
"For someone in your field I can imagine this feels like the opportunity of a lifetime."
"Well," Adam tucked a hunk of dark hair behind his ear. "I'm doing this to help my father."
"Your father?"
"Hodgkin's. He's been fighting it for a year now. Neither of my parents have insurance and mine doesn't even begin to cover enough of the expenses."
"I'm sorry." Chris lowered his gaze.
Adam felt a sudden flare of shame for sharing so much - too much? - with someone he'd just met. "I... there's been a lot of progress in lymphoma treatment. I'm just trying to stay optimistic. The next time I see my dad I want to bring him good news."
Chris' expression shifted, softening. A wall had started to lower. "Let's make sure that happens, then."
Despite his nerves, Adam smiled. Perhaps the next couple of weeks wouldn't be so bad.
"Agent Redfield, Dr. Mifune," Sanaa announced as they returned. "Glad you two found your way back. I'm sorry if our multi-million dollar research project interrupted your conversation."
Chris noticed Kenway giving him a teasing look. Busted, she mouthed.
He wanted to remind Sanaa that their mystery project was actually under audit, but it didn't seem smart to start their working relationship on such an antagonistic note.
Just be a professional, he reminded himself. He'd kept a cool head under much worse circumstances, after all.
Sanaa led the group off the landing platform, down a short set of stairs, and through a metal catwalk toward a submarine-style hatch.
Adam exchanged friendly but timid hellos and introductions with Zetterberg and Kenway. Qualifications aside, he was still a civilian and could hardly be blamed for feeling intimidated. Chris made a mental note to privately ask his fellow agents to be as cordial as they could with the younger man.
He had to admit that Adam wasn't what he expected. When Chris thought of archeologists it brought to mind the jungle-hopping, wise-cracking adventures of Indiana Jones. Adam didn't strike him as particularly adventurous or daring, which wasn't meant as an insult. He had more degrees than Chris could comprehend. Adam was just... reserved. Maybe a little insecure.
Chris couldn't see why. Even ignoring his educational background, Adam was a good looking guy, which wasn't immediately noticeable behind the wave of dark hair that fell over his forehead. But it was true. He was slender, a little shorter than Chris, and had a swimmer's build. Lithe, not bulky. His curious eyes were the color of amber, and were set evenly above high cheekbones and round, pouty lips. He was... and Chris hesitated somewhat to use this word... pretty.
Again, not what he expected at all.
Sanaa opened the submarine-style hatch. "The bathyscaphe to Avalon is through here."
"With all due respect, Miss Wilke," Chris began, "I think we're all eager to learn about the nature of your project first. No one we've spoken to has much to say on the subject."
"And neither will I," Sanaa gave a smile, which disappeared as quickly as it came. "You will be presented with our discovery first. For that to happen, we must all make the descent to Avalon's facilities."
"Discovery?" Adam stepped up. "You mean you found something on the ocean floor?"
"Astute realization."
"What exactly did you find?"
"Actually, Dr. Mifune, that's why we've brought you on board. We're hoping you can tell us."
"No one on your staff can identify the artifact?"
"This is a relatively new discovery, Dr. Mifune. They have their theories... but I can say only one thing for certain. This 'artifact' is beyond what you think. What they found is no mere clay pot."
Zetterberg and Kenway exchanged a nervous look. Chris frowned but remained composed.
"Now," Sanaa said, satisfied to have captured their attention. "Shall we begin the dive?"
Sanaa escorted the group to a special staging deck beneath the platform where a bathyscaphe awaited, secured to a concrete footing. Adam was the first to follow, climbing down a metal ladder slick with condensation, passing a pressure hatch, through a float chamber, and into the large pressure sphere. The three Blue Umbrella agents followed. Sanaa took the controls.
"Please take a seat," she said. Above them, the hatch clanged shut. The sound reverberated through the submersible.
Adam glanced around the cabin. He'd never been in anything like this before, with walls and decking covered in gauges, ducts, tubes, and instrumentation with purposes he couldn't begin to imagine.
He sat down and placed his bags on the adjoining seat. Zetterberg and Kenway took the only two other seats. Realizing he had rudely taken up an entire row for himself, he quickly snatched his bag away.
"Sorry," he said to Chris, who stood awkwardly next to him.
"I can stand."
"I wouldn't recommend that, Agent Redfield." Sanaa took her own seat by the controls. "It's better to be sitting when your ears pop. And they will."
Chris acquiesced and took the seat. Adam readjusted, keeping his legs together to accommodate the other man's bulk. Not that Chris was abnormally large. Not that Adam was paying any particular attention to Chris' body...
Okay, you can stop thinking about this now, he scolded himself.
Sanaa engaged the controls. A low hiss of air announced the start of the propellers. The submersible bobbed along on the waves until the hissing grew louder. Adam stopped just short of covering his ears again. He didn't want to look delicate or afraid around such a tough group. Even if his stomach was flipping like a pancake.
The bathyscaphe began its descent into the water. Sanaa switched on a bank of exterior lights. Abruptly, the darkness outside the window beside Adam was replaced by a storm of white bubbles.
Zetterberg whistled at the view. "Bet I could wrangle a big fat blue fin with my bare hands out here."
Kenway groaned. "Please don't talk about wrangling a big fat anything with your bare hands ever again."
"I was talking about tuna, din jävla..."
Adam perked at Zetterberg's accent. "Swedish?"
The man turned from his seat, a wide smile across his bearded face. "Yup. Grew up in Viksjö. Do you speak?"
"Nah. I only know a bit of Japanese and French because that's where my parents are from. When I was younger I wanted to learn one of the Scandinavian languages but they stopped me."
"How come?"
"They said the food over there isn't worth it."
Zetterberg laughed heartily. Adam immediately found him likable; he was the sort of fellow who'd buy a round of vodka for everyone at a bar just for the hell of it.
"I know what I'll call you," Zetterberg said. "Lillebror."
"What does that mean?"
"Little brother."
"Dude," Kenway interjected, "I know he's young but he's a goddamn doctor."
"It's okay," Adam said, hiding a grin. "I kinda like it."
Zetterberg gave a brotherly wink before turning back around.
Beyond the window, the bubbles disappeared to reveal the dense green ocean. Adam peered out, looking for fish but seeing only indistinct shapes beyond the exterior lights.
"What's the depth of Avalon Station?" Chris asked.
"Over ten thousand feet below surface." Sanaa, again, paid them no mind as she tapped away at her tablet.
"Jesus," Adam said under his breath. The bathyscaphe was descending rapidly, and the emerald glow of the water was quickly darkening.
The submersible suddenly bucked to the side. Adam crashed into Chris.
"Oof!"
"I got you." Chris held him in place as the submersible bucked again.
"Standard underwater turbulence," Sanaa said without looking up. "No cause for alarm."
Chris stared at Adam, his gaze piercing and serious. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Sorry about that."
Goosebumps sprang up his arms as Chris released him.
"Seatbelts wouldn't be a bad investment," Kenway said. "Just saying."
The corner of Sanaa's mouth ticked.
The water had grown even darker. Their speed of descent accelerated. Adam felt the pressure building within his ears, they were ready to pop.
Blackness totally consumed the world outside. Adam peered into the inky depths. Somewhere down there lay a highly advanced research facility - along with something else, something unknown and strange, waiting for him to unearth its mysteries.
"We're almost there." Sanaa put her tablet away and took the steering controls.
Adam kept his attention on the porthole. Ten thousand feet down, the ocean was an intense, impenetrable black. And yet he sensed, against all logic, an ethereal and otherworldly glow that emanated beneath.
Chris leaned over him to get a look. His face was inches away, oddly intimate. Adam could smell the man's scent, woodsy and masculine, a hint of perspiration. The closeness was reassuring. Adam's heart tumbled in his chest.
"Look," Chris pointed. "Down there."
A huge, metallic dome lay one hundred feet below them, its perimeter dotted with high-powered floodlights. It was the research station. No markings or insignia of any kind were visible on the building. For anonymity, perhaps. It was a giant crown of silver marble, peeping up from a bed of sand. Slowly, the bathyscaphe approached an escape hatch on the far side.
Adam looked away from the porthole and found that Chris' chiseled face wore an expression similar to his own - questioning, apprehensive, and yet awed, all at once.
Sanaa locked the controls into auto mode and crossed her arms with cool, collected satisfaction. "Allow me to be the first to say... welcome to Avalon. And enjoy your stay."