Chapter Eighteen
"What do you mean that it's unstable, Larson…" Angelica's voice wavered only slightly as she stared as her child's doctor with eyebrows raised. He looked half afraid as she advanced towards him, his hand going instinctively about his neck to protect his still tender throat area. "She is growing immunity to your antibodies just as I said…where are the new samples you promised me? I also demand to know which subject has the solution where as you do not… Angelica… " At this the woman's eyes narrowed into thin slivers of what looked like crimson glass. Her eyes flashed as she glared at Frederick, her skin flushing a bright pink. "Demand? You demand…." Larson backed up, almost clashing with a tray of medical supplies. Angelica had been such a docile lady….but after the birth of the child, she was more a like unto a protective tigress.. Stammering as he struggled to regain his composure, the physician's tone dropped lower than before. "Perhaps I should h..have worded my statement better. But if I was to examine the patient who is providing these antibodies, we would have more information to deal with…" Shaking her head, finally Angelica dropped her defensive demeanor, a sigh escaping her lips. As the man before her looked closer, he could see the darkness that had gathered beneath her eyes. Something was affecting her…
"It is out of the question in the time being, Frederick. But I have what you need to get started…" A silver vial was extended forwards in the center of her palm as she raised her hand upwards. Larson looked at it briefly before snatching the article away. Examining it with his eyes before turning back to his worktable, he felt a surge of excitement. Angelica was hiding something…but she was desperate enough to share some of her information. Trent was right, the child was her one weak link in her chain mail. Sliding the sample under the microscope, Larson paused before leaning down to take a closer look. "You are aware that if we go through with this in the way we have discussed, that she will become just like any other human with a vaccination in her bloodstream. The virus will go permanently dormant unless reactivated by a live strain.. She will be…human essentially." Angelica had moved to the far side of the room, her head now cocked back over her shoulder. A wispy strand of golden shadow fell across her shoulder, marking her face as half covered from him. Being so, he could not see the reaction, if there was any… Her voice was soft before it left with her, almost making the man regret his next actions. "Do what you can for her… If it means a normal life, then let it be done. After all…a normal, long life is what any mother wants for her child…"
As she disappeared from the room, Larson turned forwards. He did not lean back down to the sample, but stared blankly ahead. Angelica Burrows had been a legend amongst the scientists of White Umbrella, and when she and Trent had resurfaced to take control of the hidden pieces of the company, many had viewed the action as a grave mistake. She was not human, she was cold, distant…efficient. Despite the fact Trent had informed him otherwise of her warm past, Larson had seen nothing but an inhuman block of ice over the few months before the birth.. Flicking open his cell phone, the man touched the speed key. Sucking in a deep breath between his teeth, the doctor did something that would change the course of events "Trent, the Angel has shattered her halo. Operation Fallen Angel should go in effect within twenty four hours…" After the confirmation murmur, Doctor Frederick Larson shut off his device. Picking up the samples she had given him, he tossed them into the medical waste basket. After all these years of her being inhuman…. The real monster had turned out to be a human…
After all…
…
Chris felt the night drag on far too slowly. He knew exactly where his wife was, yet the constraints of corporate rules had him and his partner waiting for the command. Every second not taken bursting into the facility felt like an eternity, and the woods made him feel the most nervous of all. After all, he had been in them when they had echoed with the howls of demon canines… He had been there when the Cerberus' teeth had torn apart a dear friend… Half expecting to hear the familiar cries of the damned animals, Redfield found it hard not to be jumpy. The woods had been cultivating over the last decade since the bombing, their roots strong and vital as many people of the city had transplanted them over the years. There had always been a hope or feeling that Raccoon would one day rise again, but not like this… How could people let the very company that destroyed them, rebuild their new homes and shops? It was like the Raccoon City Outbreak had never happened…
Looking over to Sheva, Chris chewed the inside of his cheek. The woman seemed calm, perfectly at ease as she scanned the area. Her infa-red binoculars picked up on anything and everything, but so far she hadn't said a word. The two of them were poised outside the rebuilding of the Spencer mansion. The very thought enraged the former S.T.A.R.S member as more memories assaulted him. Cold hallways… a Tyrant lurking in the shadows. "Chris… If we have not heard back from HQ within the hour, we may have to radio in for secondary orders.." Redfield's eyes flitted to the side, an ambivalent attitude exuding from their smoky orbs. Sheva returned to her scanning, a sigh heaving out a few seconds afterward. Chris felt the tension rise, his own attitude having caused the anxiety. In response, he moved up closer, gently prodding her shoulder with his elbow. "So..you and LEON came to help us huh… He's a hard one to handle." Looking back slowly, Sheva's eyes were wide. Was the comment one of innocent nature.. or
Waving his hands, Chris began to clarify as he saw his partner's reaction. "I mean the guy's a pain. The only reason I put up with him is because Claire fancies him…uh…did I say fancy? I mean she likes…sorta…To be honest I don't know what she thinks of him anymore…But you get along well, and make a good pair..I mean team? I'm just going to shut up now…" Looking forward blankly, Chris felt the color rise in his cheeks. IT had been quite some time since he had been tongue tied, and usually it had always pertained to Jill. But this was different… Sheva was like his second sister… that …lived halfway around the world and could probably kick his ass… Which she was staring at him like she was about to now…
The hiss of the radio made Redfield sigh in relief, the soft voice of the HQ operator frazzling through. "Team Alpha, you have the green to infiltrate the facility. Retrieve operative Valentine and move out. Do not male yourself known if possible. Copy that." Sheva whispered into the receiver, her accented voice sounding wispy and hoarse. "Copy that, HQ. Alpha team heading out…" Giving her partner a sidelong glance, Alomar decided against questioning him further about his Kennedy ramble… Snapping a full clip into her handgun, Sheva winked. A familiar phrase she had used a very long time ago came to mind, and she went on it as a moral booster. Cocking her head to the side, the woman gave her brightest smile. "Lock and load, partner?" A grin was finally coaxed from Chris as he loaded his weapon like fashion. Nodding as he readied himself, the man half heartedly chuckled. "Lock and load…"
….
"Ah yes, thank you for the update, Doctor Larson." As Trent hung up the receiver, he turned back towards Wesker with an apologetic smile. It reminded him of Spencer…the way he would pretend that everything was ingratiatingly appropriate. Wesker stroked his chin gently as he watched the man, his blue eyes hardly blinking. "I am sorry about that. But there seems to be a change of plans." Wesker's head tilted slightly as Trent arose from his overly plush seat. His interest was caught, and that was not something easily garnered. "Oh? So you have called me here to discuss my duties, but with one phone call they can change like the wind? That doesn't seem to be very reliable, Charles." Trent chuckled as he eyed Wesker. The man still had his wit, and he had expected that. But he was the CEO of Umbrella, and if it was one thing he knew about it, there was always a card left to be un-played until the very end. Folding his hands stiffly behind his back, Trent slowly paced the length about his desk. "Indeed, but change promotes growth, my friend. Let me ask you a question… Do you remember what it was that Doctor Burrows was originally hired on for?"
Wesker stiffened at this, his jaw becoming hardened. "Quite sure that it was for genetic manipulation and prehistoric botany revival for the Progenitor strain. The flower refused anything but its normal habitat…Why are you asking me this information? It was cataloged and filed years ago." At the last words, Trent pointed a finger at Wesker purposefully. "Precisely, YEARS ago. She has outgrown her usefulness to us beyond that of a test subject for the DNA that yourself and William Birkin perfected nearly thirty years ago. Angelica is an outdated relic…" Wesker snapped back, his voice dropping dangerously low. "As you could say the same of me, Trent.." Shaking his head, the other man leaned in a seated position against the front of the desk. "Not quite so… She has been undercover for quite some time tracking you down over the years, where as you have kept you mind sharp and up to date. Things are different now, and her recent mistake with a patient has proven such." Wesker paused, his lips drawing back slowly. "Mistake?" Trent feigned shock, his eyes wide and surprised looking. "Why yes, she allowed your first dose to slip by unchecked…her personal problems have lead to laxness…and I intend to change that…with you…If you are willing to take her most primary patient immediately, we could have her transferred to a small, contained area of the facility to be put under observation by yourself as well…"
Standing up slowly, Wesker drew himself up to full height. The man before him was head and shoulders shorter, and the intimidation tactic had worked so many times before. What Trent was offering him was a once in a lifetime ordeal, not to mention a twisted way to exact his revenge upon the woman that had kept him in a cage for over three years… Trent stared up at him with hopeful eyes, intensity radiating off of them in the silence. Slowly his eyebrows rose. "Do we have a deal, Albert? Other wise I cannot guarantee that another chance like this will open up any time soon.." Wesker closely watched that man before him, taking in every detail of his facial features. Time had been written clearly, but something childishly mischievous seemed to lurk behind his hues, as if there was a secret he was still keeping…. Slowly Wesker brought his hand to Trent's, shaking it firmly. Snapping upwards grinning, Trent moved behind his desk once more. Picking up a thick file folder upon his desk, the man tossed it towards Wesker.
Catching it in a fluid motion, Wesker opened up the sizeable folder. Within it held documents, and a small picture of a child that could not be more than three or four years old… Her hair was long and wavy in stunning gold lengths, her sapphire eyes bold and almond. A grin was upon her face; as if she had been promised candy after the picture was taken… She looked…familiar… The picture mesmerized him. Wesker felt his throat stick as he finally vocalized the words he was trying to ask. "Is this the patient I will be confiscating from her? Who is she…" At this Trent's lips finally split into a devilish grin. After the words Wesker only felt cold, sinking dread, as if his entire consciousness had been thwarted by a few, simple words….
"That is Project Cherub, your daughter…."