RESIDENT EVIL: Survivor of Spencer Mansion Episode 1

by the FooMan

We never got to see what happened during the outbreak at Spencer Mansion, did we? That's what this series will explore, and it's aftermath with the protagonist Alias Kane, the newly arrived Head of Security. What was supposed to be a well paying, cushy job will soon quickly spin out of his control.

DISCLAIMER:I in no way take credit for, or challenge the work or property rights of the Resident Evil franchise and I do not seek financial profit for my writing.

Also, I am a new writer, so please feel free to comment, share constructive criticisms, insights and little tricks of your own :)

Episode 1: Arrival at the Spencer Estate

The tops of the alpine trees were visible, but shadowy in the moonlit night and the forest glided by underneath the window of the helicopter as Alias Kane stared out at the dark silhouettes of the mountaintops. There were six of them in the cabin and the interior was dark, except for the odd reading light. Sitting across from him was William Birkin, head of the so called "Tyrant Project." What the Tyrant Project actually was, Alias had no idea. He assumed he would receive some form of briefing within the realms of a need-to-know basis, but research was not what he was there for. Birkin flipped through a magazine with one knee resting on the other and purred without looking up "On your right, you will soon see your new home, Mr. Kane." The business suit Birkin wore was a expensive wool and mohair-blend, the other four occupants were similarly dressed and catching up on sleep or working away at their laptops. Alias however, wore only a simple dark green cargo jacket, blue jeans and hiking boots. Indeed, Alias saw that, through the thin haze of a mild fog, there were a series of illuminated contours of rooftops that poked out from the woods.

The helicopter dropped it's speed as they approached and circled the area. The main building looked like an enormous house and there was a extensive courtyard, garden and several smaller adjacent structures within the premises and directly bellow, there was a well lit helipad with a small crowd waiting for them.

Ada Wong, standing amongst the other top level scientists on the helipad to greet their arrivals, knew that the man aboard the approaching helicopter, by the name of Alias Kane, was not, despite their official briefing, any ordinary Head of Security. With an impressive resume and service record, it was clear that his talents in espionage far exceeded that of his predecessor's and thus, must be the reason for his employment. A specialty like espionage only meant one thing in this circumstance and that would be counter-espionage. It was now abundantly clear that the company correctly suspected that a corporate spy was in their midst and, as discreetly as possible, was going to use this man to "try" and root out the mole. How did she know this? By hacking the personal computer of her "partner" and Chief Researcher of the Arklay Laboratory, of course. "Let the games begin "She thought to herself as the craft slowed in it's descent and bounced lightly on it's rubber wheels upon contact with the concrete.

William Birkin emerged first and accepted the eager and craven handshakes of his subordinates as they crowded around him and his team. She had seen most of them before from previous visits but it mattered not, as they would all be gone in a few days. All except this unknown fly in the ointment, of course. He was last to stumble out of the cabin and looked about awkwardly and was clearly out of his element, the pilot having to get his attention to hand him his duffle bag. It was hard to tell if he took care of his body from under the bulky jacket, but he was of average height. Handsome, yet he looked some what unkempt with a messy crop of salt-pepper hair and short beard. "This is your new Head of Security." Birkin told them "Mr. Kane, please introduce your self." Alias awkwardly extended his hand and gave Martin and John curt smiles and nods and shook their hands. Socially withdrawn maybe? Maintaining a distance, but for purpose or for comfort? The gears in Ada's head whirled in an attempt to paint a psychological profile. Was he confident in himself? In his abilities or would he struggle in his pursuit? Was he a workaholic? A night owl perhaps? Night Owls were ever the more pesky, as they tended to spend less time sleeping and more time scheming, and plotting their next move.

She adopted a unassuming posture and extended her hand meekly as he came to her. His grasp was hurried and to the point. He gave her a disinterested nod, then turned to Martin and asked where the bathroom was. "Gotta piss like a raging bull after that ride." He spoke with a rough, gravely voice and Martin frowned and motioned for him to follow, and Alias tilted his head up and around at his surroundings as he was lead to the stairs beside the elevator.

Martin had only known their new matted, confused looking Head of Security for a few minutes and already he was unimpressed. "Did you enjoy the flight?" He asked casually.

"I don't like helicopters."

"Of course." Martin was not elderly, but by the third flight of stairs, his age was feeling ever more advanced. "I'm just out of shape." He reminded himself as he felt around the top of his grey and balding scalp and noticed he was already starting to sweat. His hip was acting up and he would soon need to sit. They came to the entrance of the lab and he pointed to the bathroom door at the end of the cold concrete hall as the elevator touched down and everyone else entered the area.

Ada gave John, her "boyfriend" a discreet and playful bump with her elbow as her team gave Birkin and the other visitors a brief tour of the laboratory and the newly installed upgrades in their equipment before Birkin called for a retirement for the night and a more extensive review in the morning. It was just after eleven and it was late and she hopped into bed with John and indulged in a little pillow talk before she waited for him to sleep. It would be hard to tell what Alias knew about her and her doctored references for her position. He seemed disinterested in her and even a little clumsy but, was it real or an act? Either way, his arrival would significantly hinder her intel gathering as she would, not only have to be more cautious, but would need to spend much more time watching her back. Luckily, within John's computer she had also obtained the room Alias would be staying in and she had managed to bug his room with a audio recorder and his personal computer with a web tracker in advance. The audio recorder did not give off a signal, as any transmissions from it would be detectable by any agent worth his or her salt, and she would have to sneak in his room and extract it for it's contents.

(Has anyone else wanted to see the mansion before the outbreak in fiction?)

It had been two days since their guests arrived and John, Chief of Research, had put Scott in charge of giving their new Head of Security a tour of the East Wing. He had a messy head of hair upon arrival but, since then he had remained cleanshaven and had buzz cut his hair. He wore a tight fitting brown shirt and sported a muscular, well maintained frame. His name was Alias, Alias Kane and Scott was next in line of command to him within the Umbrella security detachment, and would be working most closely with him. They walked through the wooden hallway in silence

"This is a lot to take in" Alias rubbed his forehead, as Floyd and Ada had already taken him through much of the West Wing and the underground labs at this point.

"How about we have a sit down then?" Scott suggested understandingly. He and everyone else in the barracks had felt that way upon arrival and debriefing. And so, he lead Alias through the tall trap room which, from there, lead into a much more plush sitting room. Alias craned his neck upward as he looked around at the beige, dirty looking walls and cement ceiling that was more than thirty feet above their heads.

The sitting room was well decorated and there was a settee and coffee table. On one end of the room was a fireplace with a large red tapestry, Asian in design, and on the other was a shotgun that rested on a mount. They sat down and Alias pulled out his pencil and began stencilling the two rooms on a diagram of the mansion's layout that he kept in his notebook. He seemed somewhat overwhelmed, his blue eyes darting around the paper from behind the reading glasses he had donned. He then took them off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Before you put that away..." Scott motioned at the shotgun hanging from the wall "I'd like to add that never, under any circumstances, remove that gun from it's resting place."

"Security has munitions" Alias gave him a weary look "so I don't see why I would."

"Even if you think you should, for whatever reason, don't. I can't divulge why."

"Ah..."Alias gave him something of a exasperated look "another of the mansion's 'features'?"

"Yes." Alias then slipped his reading glasses back on and wrote "do not remove shotgun."

"I can take you around the rest of the East Wing tomorrow, but you have a dinner at seven."

"Right. Thank you." Alias rubbed his neck.

Later that night, Alias sat in a semi-sectioned off sitting area at the end of the hallway. There was to be a formal dinner/conference amongst the heads of the facility's departments and he was in a freshly tailored dinner jacket that had been provided him and the man who hired him, John Clemons, sat beside him on the settee in the same black and white dressing with a little black bow-tie around his neck. A large, well done painting of the mansion hung above their heads and they stared silently out the dark window.

"You know as well as I do what they'll say." Alias turned to look at John, who was in his mid forties and had his normally shaggy blonde hair slicked back. He was Chief Researcher of the facility, and his boss.

"It's the cost of dancing with the devil, I'm afraid." John smiled sympathetically.

"But you know I'm right."

"As Head of Security, it is your job to make recommendations as you see fit. The outcome though, is out of your hands." Just then they heard the door to the kitchen on the other end of the lengthy hallway open and the chattering of kitchen staff and footmen. John then gave him a wink and said "If you're only in it for the money, then fill your pockets, my good man." With that, he motioned for him to come along.

"Moral implications are not what concern me." Alias's deep voice resonated.

The Mansion's architecture was neo-classical with ornate statues, paintings and lavish carpeting and furniture. Satin Pillows, thick and heavy curtains and chandeliers. The Dining Hall they were now in had black and white checkered floor tiles, support beams with angels, cherubs and gargoyles carved into their dark wood and there was a enormous table, each of the twelve seats were spread far and wide from one another. There were man servants with white gloves and silver trays that served the most decorated and expensive plates of food Alias had ever seen and all the heads of departments were there. After pleasantries, they each took their turn to speak.

Overhauls for electrical issues with the boiler rooms were needed, more lab equipment, several personnel were needed to be replaced for interpersonal issues and ineptitude. William Birkin nodded with what could either be a smirk, or a sneer. He was flanked by the other four that had flown in at their end of the table. He had been Chief Researcher at the mansion previously before his promotion and subsequent transfer to the city and John Clemons, had taken his place.

They went on with the ins-and-outs of upkeep for the mansion, personnel and payment schemes and equipment procurement but, when it was John's turn to speak, the subject shifted to the whole reason they were out there in the first place, the Tyrant Project. "We've still not discovered if the mechanism of the ε strain is based on a cytokine storm of the immune system or the actual permutation of the host's cells itself." He said flatly "we need more time."

"Well" Birkin spoke after a long silence "the chief of police will see to it that no one comes poking around here as long as his fat fingers keep finding a cheque in the mail, but he only has so strong a grip on the whole precinct. I'm sure you understand. What progress have you accomplished with the allotted resources I've given you?"

"My team and I have been prioritizing construction of a bonding agent that should combine the favoured traits of the ε and Beta II strains together. The T+G strain, if all four macromolecules hold, should slow the gangrene effect on it's host. Thus, more longevity."

Illegal bio-weapons development. Alias sighed and poked at his roast pork belly and apple puree as they went on about genome theory. "Dancing with the devil, indeed." Needless to say, the money was good for the security he would be providing with the twenty guards at his disposal for the hundred and seven workers and researchers of a secret underground laboratory out in the forest, disguised as a summer retreat manor-home for distinguished colleagues of a giant pharmaceutical company dabbling in the dark arts of Science. No, dabbling was not the right word. This was very far from just dabbling and the money was no longer enough, not after his tour of the feeding grounds. Martin made a few softly spoken mentions of details that John had overlooked in his update on the Tyrant Virus and Birkin was quick to scrutinize both Chief and Assistant Chief of Research. They went on and the details of biology escaped Alias's grasp.

"And how is our new Chief of Security settling in?" Birkin then asked, settling his gaze on Alias. "Are you keeping up with the cold science of our talks?"

"A little" Alias cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin "From what I can gather, I seem to have my work cut out for me. "A tense chuckle murmured across the table and Birkin, his cold eyes crinkling with feigned amusement, set his fork down with a clatter against his plate.

"Do you feel competent in your duties here?" Birkin asked.

"No." Alias met his eye "we have what we would need to contain unruly residents and trespassers, but my concern is a possible break out of the, uh-"

He pulled out his reading glasses and notepad and took a moment to read the notes that were shaking ever so slightly in his hand "... The MA-121s"

"Impressive, aren't they?"

"I'm afraid so, yes." He cleared his throat and looked at Birkin from over his glasses as though the man were no longer in his element, but Alias's. He held up the notes and pointed to a diagram he'd drawn "there are issues with the cages and I've seen them probing for weaknesses. I'm to understand that they're social? All it would take is one of those things to figure out that-"

"The cages are strong" Birkin barked with a squint "they've been designed to contain thousand pound blows." John then interjected "The cages are strong, yes. But they have crude latches and the links can be unwound. They've become very clever now."

"And we need soldiers, mercenaries. Not these mall cops I've been given." Alias shifted his weight to face John, looking over his glasses at him with his notes in hand "and more than twenty. My security team's job is not just-" He waved his hand, blinking and licking at his lips as he stumbled for words "just policing the residents and shooing off nosy hikers." There was silence, save for the elaborately decorated grandfather clock behind Alias, filling the Dining Hall with it's loud, regular tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. John swallowed, Martin frowned and Alias turned his gaze back toward William Birkin, head of the deadly virus's development. The fireplace behind William burned with the freshly placed logs and the footmen stood quietly. "My evaluation is that there is danger of a breakout and I don't have the means to contain it, and Raccoon City is not far from here."

He then concluded by walking over to William Birkin and placing a list he'd compiled by his plate, a list of equipment he'd want for the security team. He then sat back down in silence and began eating. There was a noticeable strain in the others as they restarted the discussion and got things back on track, the atmosphere was certainly stiffer. "Good" He thought as he waved a footman over and quietly asked for a glass of whisky "Of course, sir" the footman nodded, visibly uncomfortable with Alias's assessment. He kept his head down for the remainder of the dinner and when everything was wrapped up, he, John and Martin returned to the hallway and entered the bar room.

Alias pulled off the jacket, loosened the bow-tie around his neck and poured two finger's worth in each of their glasses and another for himself as Floyd, Robert and Scott entered. They were all guards and his new subordinates "Come and grab a glass" Alias motioned, mindful of the balance between being their friend and their new boss. "Too bad Ada wasn't here" John smirked "she could show you another of the mansion's 'features'." Ada seemed to Alias to be reserved and mild mannered. She was John's girlfriend, fellow researcher and was also Alias's primary suspect in the investigation and apprehension of a very well trained spy that had infiltrated Umbrella's operation here, who worked for the Company's main competitor. There were inconsistencies in her references and her qualifications and her work history was, upon closer inspection, fraudulent. Also, the fact she was in a relationship with the Chief of Research of this facility and working by his side was a very cozy coincidence for a mole indeed. He had given his room a inspection and found no bugs or tracking software, and he had detected no signals with his Radio Frequency Detector but, he was still unconvinced there wasn't anything watching or listening to him in his quarters and he would be acting and behaving accordingly, until he was certain he was alone.

After leaving the military, he had worked as a mercenary and security consultant before John came into contact with him and told him about the job. Money was good and, even if he didn't pass the probation period of three months, he'd have still put a large dent in the damages his costly divorce had inflicted on him "Ah, there she is." John smiled as Ada walked into the bar with her lab coat still on and she shyly approached John and squeezed his hand, making eye contact with no one. Her black hair was short and she was a shapely woman of Asian-American descent and she spoke fluent English, when she did speak, that is.

With a little persuasion, she sat at the piano and played a elegant rendition of Moonlight Sonata and, just like that, the wall on the right side slid upward and revealed a very well hidden secret passage. Everyone sat there and stared at it "Close it now, Ada" John said, and she hit a concealed button somewhere on the piano and the wall slid back down. "Just like being in a 1960's spy thriller movie" Floyd chuckled "Isn't it?" Alias stared at the wall a moment, shook his head and downed his drink.

(Did anyone enjoy the remake of the video game more then the original?

His quarters were in the East Wing, and so he made his way through the eerie hallway with showcases of various bones and then through the other that had the shotgun room and he shuffled past several researchers as he went up the stairs, the floor was made with orange wooden tiles and the lights glowed low and shadowy along the wall's brownish orange paint. Birkin didn't take his suggestions seriously. Of that, he felt sure. It wouldn't matter so much if he could just disappear, but he was sort of pinned against a wall until arrangements could be made "What good is money if you don't live to spend it?" He thought to himself as he entered his quarters and undressed "I could talk to John about a transfer. I think I can trust John. Maybe." He sat on the foot of the bed, thinking. "I guess I'm not completely stranded out here. I could stow away some rations and make a break for it to Raccoon City. I'd make it there in a few days. I would need to go by night though, maybe even mess with some patrol schedules. I am Head of security, after all."

Another thought came to mind. He knew too much about the company and Project Tyrant to simply walk away, and Umbrella was a wealthy company with connections to some Grade-A paramilitary organizations "If I fled, I could very well find a hit man after me."

"Shit." He scowled.

First thing in the morning, he turned the alarm off and continued scanning the carpet for any opening in the fabric where a blade had been and a device inserted before changing into his PT clothes. He made the long walk through the hallways. The lights were on at all times in the mansion and he entered into the enormous front lobby. It had a ornate stone floor and a giant red, Turkish looking rug that ran from the front doors and all the way up a grand staircase that lead to a second floor balcony that rested on white marble support pillars. It was a beautiful interior decorating of the highest calibre and above, Floyd gave him a wave as he opened the doors.

The horizon glowed pink with the coming sun, though it was still blocked by the shadowy trees. He jogged along the outside perimeter of the mansion and, every now and then, saw a member of his security team. He worked his arms and legs with push ups and squats and his abs with crunches in the cold, dewy grass and by the time he jogged back to the front door, he was spent and panting heavily. A far cry from the athleticism of his youth, but better than most his age, he supposed. Yes, he was older than most would estimate. Come to think of it, he supposed many younger men would struggle all the way around the estate at the pace he had managed. "Not bad" He nodded to himself and groaned as he reached down for the water bottle he had left there and, when he looked up, he found Ada standing there with acold, straight-to-business attitude "Mr. Birkin would like to see you, Mr. Kane" She said, matter of fact.

"Where-"He gasped "where is he?" She told him and he shook his head "I don't know *gasp* where that is."

"Well, I don't have time to take you there, Mr. Kane." He had in fact, knew precisely where to find Birkin's office. The more guard he could let down, the better.

"Are you familiarizing yourself with the estate?" Birkin asked from his desk as Alias entered, sweat now soaking through his grey sweater.

"I'm working on it." Alias said as he scanned the room. "Is that what you wanted to see me about?"

"Well no but, on that note, I do need you to work on that faster."

"Very good." He nodded.

"Why these weapons specifically?" William held up the list he gave him the previous night.

"I'm going by the speed of the MA-121s and their thick skin plating. The HK33s are compact and easier for untrained personnel to handle. They are high velocity and high calibre. Good stopping power and a high rate of fire in case we need to contain a break out. I figure the loss of this facility's personnel and a spill out into the woods near a major urban centre would be a dilemma for the company." Alias knew their lives were measured in financial cost/gain and nothing more. Of course, only a boy scout would think otherwise. That's fine. Putting things in the perspective he did was the only way to communicate with these types. "And you want to hire additional members to your security team with company money?" Birkin squinted "what is this?"

"Those are qualifications I'd want for additional hires. People who have served and received basic army training, at the least." Alias shrugged "equipment is only half as good as the man behind it."

"We can't have everything our way" Birkin said, nodding as he looked his new security chief up and down "but I'm sure we can put at least some of these recommendations into place. Yes. A break out would be a very serious problem for the company, especially with the sensitive nature of our research. Do you have any personal qualms about what you've seen here?"

"If I did, I don't see how it would make a difference, or how I would benefit." Alias shrugged, giving Birkin a dead pan stare "I'm a mercenary. My concern is my well being and, as long as I'm looked after, then there won't be a problem on my end."

"I believe you" Birkin smiled and there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, like one wolf meeting another. "I suspected as much based on your credentials. I wish more of my personnel felt that way about their work. I have a list here of a few workers that I want you to keep an eye on. Some have expressed concerns about the "moral" implications of what we are trying to achieve here and I want them monitored. I don't care how you do it, so long as you are discreet and they are unawares."

"I figured that would be part of the job, sooner or later." Alias said, motioning for the paper and Birkin handed it to him.

"By the way, that reminds me. Have you learned anything new regarding our mole?"

"I just got here, so no." He motioned with his finger to his lip to be quiet. Listening devices were a tool often deployed in the business of corporate espionage.

"Very well." Birkin nodded, then added "Stay on my good side, Mr. Kane, and you will do well."
"Very good. Is that all?" Alias's dead pan stare never wavered "You'd do well to stay on mine as well, Mr. Birkin." He thought to himself.

There were three names on the list and one of them was John Clemons, his boss. "Ugh..." Alias rubbed his eyes as he wrote the names into his notes and destroyed the paper they were on. After a shower and change of clothes, he pulled the files of the three names out for amore thorough look over and he took notes. Two of the targets didn't have their personal quarters specified, and were simply listed under "Dormitories". He made a note of that. There were no personal phones on the estate but he'd have listening devices installed within their personal quarter's walls anyway and all computers tagged to access personal emails. John was the only one on his list that had freedom to travel and was allowed into the city, provided a trip was authorized and scheduled to use the company jeep. Perhaps he could smuggle himself in the back on it's next departure and escape this volcano waiting to happen altogether. It was a option worth exploring and would certainly be a more interesting way to quit a job.

Until he was certain the computer was clean, he would not use it for anything counter-espionage related and would be keeping all his notes on paper. He pulled his little black book out from the drawer and rifled through until he found the contact for Birkin to hire that would travel to Raccoon City for the sole purpose of shadowing John upon his next visit into town "Should have kept your mouth shut, John." Alias mumbled with a shake of his head. He then wrote down the items he'd need to carry out the required surveillance and nearly wrote down some weapons dealers, but than thought better of it. His Private Investigator that would shadow John outside of the mansion would be able to remain anonymous, but his old army guys? They'd be above their heads and Umbrella would have their information. He then decided that he would call his PI himself, get a quote, then the money from Birkin and hire him directly.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossed out some to-dos on his list, then reached for the phone at his desk and rung the first number on his list of new contacts he'd need to touch base with. "Chief, it's the new guy."

"How are you settling in up there?" The voice on the other end was Brian Irons, Chief of Raccoon City Police.

"As well as you would expect." Alias leaned back in his chair with one hand clasping the back of his head "let's cut to it than, what have you got for me?" There was a search-and-rescue training exercise scheduled for the 11th of May and the area of operations was within ten kilometres of the facility "It's organized by the county, so I don't have much input" The corrupt Police Chief said" but shouldn't be a problem for you guys as long as you don't have anything obvious like chemical explosions happening, or whatever the hell it is you're doing up there." Other than that and the odd flyby of a helicopter, the mansion would be left out of sight and out of mind "but only so long as things stay quiet on your end" Irons said "and you call me if there's so much as a hint of trouble, so I can plan accordingly."

"If I think of anything, I'll let you know." Alias hung up and there was a knock on the door. "Yes, come in." It was Scott, his new right hand man and with him were the logs of all account activities from computers and a list of cyber-encryption programs. "Some of the guys are having a poker game next Saturday." Scott said as he handed him the files "You in?"

"Maybe. I'll let you know by tonight. High stakes?" He asked as he thumbed through the papers, and Scott shrugged with a smirk.

"Maybe I will than" Alias smirked back and motioned with his head toward the door "I'm very busy. If you see Floyd, could you remind him of those reports?"

"The incident reports?"

"Ah, nearly forgot about those. Yes, those as well." Scott gave him a haphazard salute and strolled out the doorway. Scott had a round, knobbish looking nose and pockmarked cheeks and was a ugly son of a bitch. Alias chuckled and got back to work.

Down in the Laboratory, Ada selected the download option as discreetly as possible while typing away at the computer's console. Steve, though not paying attention to her and focused on the robotic arms he worked from behind a protective glass, was nearby and she scooched her rolling chair over to hide the little data peg that would store the downloaded data. When before she could circumvent the security system with a encoded channel that she could install on any computer, transmit the data to her handler in Sioux Falls, and uninstall the program without leaving a trace of the exchange. Now, through her hacking, she saw that a new detection system had already been put in place since Alias's arrival, and she was unable to bypass it. She would now need to store the data in a physical vessel and have it delivered. How she would go about that, she had no idea. She couldn't even contact him to work out a delivery system without being flagged and, now that she would need to lay low, he might just be dumb enough to try to contact her and time was no longer on her side.

How is Alias coming across? Is he a dick lol, or a anti-hero? How is Ada coming across?

Alias had found the tracking software he had suspected was inside his computer. It was very well hidden within the computer's programming and, whoever it was, was good at covering their tracks, though his suspicions toward Ada were mounting. He was now able to operate without the program tracking him and he soon found that an encoded channel had been used on some of the computers to transmit data out of the premises. It had also been well hidden and there was no way to triangulate from what computer and when, but it had happened on more than one occasion.

On a roll, he was now giving the walls a second look over for any signs of disruption in the dry wall, as it would be easy to screw a small listening device in and paint over it. Every now and then he received a update from the perimeter. Curious campers and hikers were common, especially in spring and every now and than they had to be shooed off if they got too close. With time to kill and Floyd and Scott unavailable for a further tour of the East Wing. Alias decided he'd be fine to wander on his own, so long as he didn't touch anything. He moved about the mansion and visited the various personal rooms, sitting areas and art rooms, mapping it all on his diagram as he went. He found that for all it's décor, the hallways and rooms had a sombre feeling to them. Maybe it was the low lighting wherever there was the absence of a window, or the dark colours of the floors and walls, drab patterns on the wall paper and lifeless paintings.

Speaking of paintings, he had found one particular hallway with it's walls covered in them and he found their display somewhat unsettling. The first of the many paintings was of a Christ like figure above the clouds with cryptic words etched bellow reading "From Cradle to Grave" He walked slowly along the hallway and found that each painting successively depicted the same man in various stages of life, one as a boy and the next as a adolescent and the next, as a young man and so on, each depiction had a small button underneath with a small inscription reading "Will you push the button?" He frowned and continued down the hallway with the strange paintings, turned the corner and at the end, was the largest painting of all. It was a large canvas and the centrepiece of the collection. It depicted a mournful funeral and it was for the same man, now old, withered and dead in a open casket. It was a depressing depiction and there were two inscriptions. One read "The End of Life" and underneath the small button, again, it read "Will you push the button?"

He swallowed, felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck and hurried out. Feeling silly, he went outside and walked along the stone path to the door leading to the courtyard. It had a plaque on it that he hadn't noticed before with another cryptic etching. He squinted and, fumbling for his glasses, placed them on his face and read

"When the sun sets in the West and the Moon rises in the East, Stars will begin to appear and the wind will blow toward the ground and the gate of new life will open."

"Ugh..."He frowned again, not sure what that meant but not liking it nonetheless.

In the evening, he called a meeting of his security detachment. "Hello everyone" He smiled thinly at them "I've met most of you by now and we'll be getting new equipment. Scott, you have a military background, yes?"

"That's right."

"You can help me with training. And there'll be changes to schedules, routes and posts. The security monitors are not watched 24 hours. That's going to change, and we'll be reviewing our drill exercises for fires, corporate espionage, and whatever situation might arise from that godforsaken feeding pen they have." They all seemed uneasy when he brought that up "I'm working on having those cages upgraded but, in the meantime, I want a double watch on them." He looked at each of them with a stone faced stare and said "I'm sure there's no need to explain why our drills will focus on the feeding pen." He, Scott, Floyd and Robert went over the drills that had already been written up "Change them now?" Scott asked

"Not yet" Alias rubbed his eyes. It was getting late and he yawned "I want to see how they move with plans they're already familiar with first"

Through the courtyard and then on to the elevator that lead to the labs. Ada was there and several others he hadn't yet met "Ms. Wong" He gave her a nod as she boarded the elevator. "Is John down stairs?"

"He's in the conference room" She said, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Perfect." Through the metal and cement halls, he entered the little room where a slideshow presentation was taking place. Martin, Steve and several others were taking notes and John, with the controller in his hand, flipped to another slide of a test subject with large boils and gangrene sores all over his body and there was a look of anguish on the dying man's face. John seemed visibly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat and used a laser pointer as he continued his lecture. When it was over, Alias approached him and said "Hey boss. When you're done here, I'll need to run some things over with you in my office."

"Is that so?"

"It's important."

A half hour later, Alias was back in his office and continuing the search for the listening device he suspected might be there and, indeed, his hunch was correct. One of the paintings, not far from his telephone on the wall, had a corner of its frame that was ever so slightly loose and, within it was a hollowed-out space for a device about the size of a pen lid. A Bretwood recorder with fifty-four hours of battery. He had checked behind the painting and everything else that was loose but, not the frame itself "Paranoia pays in this business" he thought as he scrambled its contents and carefully placed it back and hung the painting on the wall. It did not transmit, and the mole would have to come sneak into his room and collect the recorder. And so, he hid a small video recorder behind the potted plant with it's camera concealed between it's leaves. Once he apprehended the mole, he would have more cards to play in his transfer out of there. Maybe worm out another mole elsewhere.

With his sleeves rolled up and his reading glasses resting on his nose, he called some of the other contacts on his list, made notes and crossed out items on his to-do list and made arrangements for what he would need when there was a knock on the door. It was John.

"How are things, Alias?" John said as he walked into the office.

"Better now that you're here." He said, sitting back down on his chair and clasping his hands on the desk. He was not supposed to have the conversation with his employer that he was about to have, as John was not supposed to know that he would be under surveillance yet deals had to be made if he were to have John working on his behalf and, with the audio recorder issue settled, no one could blackmail him. "I feel like I can trust you, at least I hope so. Given the nature of this facility, we need to trust one another, and I hope you feel the same way about me." He paused and studied his employer.

"What is it?" John asked.

"I can't get into detail, but as Security Chief, I have responsibilities here that go above your head and I want things to run smoothly between us until, eh" He chuckled "I'm able to get the hell out of here. As soon as possible, in fact."

"I assume this is just between you and I?" John asked, nodding "are you talking about a transfer?"

"Soon as possible" Alias swallowed and paused, thinking "until then, Birkin wants me to keep an eye out for possible breaches of confidentiality. Dangers of workers talking to the press, the police or other companies. I'm very good at surveillance, boss. I will know if anyone is unhappy with our work here and if they're inclined to speak out. But, while I am here, as long as I don't see any evidence of that, than Birkin doesn't need to know a damn thing, and I can get my transfer the hell out of here. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes..." John squinted "I do believe I understand."

"Hell, maybe it's best if we both get transferred." He had provided John with a subtle, friendly heads up. Hopefully he will return the favour, but Alias wasn't sticking his neck out as much as he had made it seem and, if John didn't "return" the favour, another conversation might have to be had. Evidence for John's disloyalty and untrustworthiness would be such an easy thing for someone like Alias to fake and, therefore, he had leverage. He had both the carrot, and the leverage and either way, John was going to get him out of there, and soon.

It had been a few days since he had found the recorder and the mole had yet to come and retrieve it. William Birkin and his entourage had since left and It was now Saturday night, May 9th and Alias left his room for the scheduled poker game in the guard house. After about an hour of playing, he folded his cards on the table for the sixth time as Steve side-glanced Scott and Trevor. Scott then folded as well and it was now just Trevor and Steve. Trevor, one of the groundskeepers who helped with maintenance and the care of the animals on the property, had thin, hollowed cheek features and yelloweyes that squinted like a snake. He huffed and dropped his cards and Steve displayed two Aces and pocketed the forty dollars. "You win a lot" Trevor grimaced "how lucky..." Steve was one of the researchers. Tall, loud, young and brash. Alias knew the type and, though he hadn't seen much of the man, he had him pegged for something of a hotshot. "You're just a bad sport." Steve laughed.

"Well, that's enough for me" Alias stood. He pulled on his long sleeve shirt as others played pool and darts in the rec room of the dormitories. The walls, ceiling and floor were made of the same wooden panelling and Steve joined him as they left the other two "What do you think Trevor meant by that sly tone?" Steve asked

"I think he implied you're a lousy cheat." Alias said.

"What a shit bag" They left the dormitories and entered the courtyard and there were a few workers taking their break in the gardens as they made their way back to the big house. Stone masonry and arches and hedges passed them by as the evening sun settled behind the long and thick oak tree branches that surrounded the outer perimeter. They walked in silence until they came to a gardening house and Alias motioned as he opened toward the door.

"C'mere" He said.

"What for?"

"You'll see" He smirked, his sombre blue eyes twinkled.

"Alright, make it quick." Steve sighed. They went inside and Alias made a point of slowly baring the door.

"What's this about?" Steve chuckled nervously. Alias had a gruff, gravely voice and he knew how to slow and project his speech, accentuate the right phases at the right time and use his unique pitch to add an extra layer of impression.

"When I was stationed in Somalia, we had a young private who thought he could switch his cards in a game for keeps and not get caught" He said as he wedged the heavy barrels in front of the door with a cool, calm demeanour. The walls of the small garden house were craggy and the beige paint, peeling from the brick. "I knew right from the start, but didn't say anything. Me and my friend, Corporal Hayes, watched and let him win all the rounds. We had a table of six, you see, and we let him fill his pockets of the winnings from the other jackasses there, just like I did with you at that game. It wasn't until the game was over that we confronted him and took the winnings for ourselves. 'That wasn't clean winning, friend' I told him, and he stood there with the same gobsmacked look that you have on your face now."

Steve then consciously closed his gaping mouth and straightened himself as Alias took a step closer "he tried to swing at me, of course. He was a big guy like you. We all had the same hand-to-hand combat training and thought he could take me, but I'd been doing this line of work much longer than him, and I took our money back from that worthless little worm while he laid unconscious and bleeding from the inside of his ears. Hayes and I then split the take. What was he going to do? Tell everyone I mugged him for his 'fair-and-square winnings?'" Steve had his head held low, submissively as Alias stepped closer "How's your hand-to-hand, pencil pusher? What are you going to tell people? Who are you going to run to?" Steve's face had resignation and humiliation written all over it and, without a word, clumsily reached into his pocket and produced the paper bills. "All of it!" Alias snapped, snatching the money out of his hand. In all there was a hundred and twenty five dollars and, with that, Alias growled "Your secret is safe with me, worm."

The next night, he had his security detachment gather for drills. He had them practice for a hypothetical breakout of the MA-121s and the drill removed all hopes for Alias that this was a salvageable situation for him. They were all disorganized and fumbling and, every now and then, someone had to run back to retrieve something. There were several hallways and corridors leading to the feeding pens and he had them split into teams to section off any corridor "needed" and practice coordinating with one another. He stood with a hand on one hip and a walkie-talkie hanging from the other and watched them pant and bumble. They were out of shape, too. "Great."

"Well, I can safely say we're all dead men if those things get out" He looked around at them as they gathered "but that's enough for tonight."

It was late and he was exhausted. Scott told him that his weapons delivery had just been delivered and was waiting for them on the Helipad. He turned to Scott and said "first thing in the morning, we're gonna crack open those crates and see what we got."

"OK, should we pack it in for tonight?"

"Yeah. Oh, by the way" Alias reached into his pocket and pulled out half of the money Steve had cheated them out of during their poker games "I don't want you to ask what this is for, or why I'm giving it to you. Just take it and shut up, alright?" He handed Scott the money

"If you say so, boss." Scott chuckled, looking the money over "I'll be heading back to the Dorms than if that'll be all."

Alias made his way back to his room and was now very seriously considering the idea of stealing the company jeep and driving out of there within the week, possibly sooner. "I know FUBAR when I see it and this, this is a real shit show waiting to happen." He thought, and decided he'd have to make his move. "Whatever guys Birkin sends after me will have their work cut out for them, of that I will make sure. Either way, I'm getting the hell out of here, and soon."

Ada didn't see much point in sneaking into Alias's room anymore. She was certain he had bypassed all of her surveillance of him and, with one fowl swoop, had disrupted her ability to transmit remotely, which was essential to her operation and, whatever she could learn from the recorder, would likely not be worth whatever counter surveillance systems he'd undoubtedly leave in place for her to contend with. Now that her ability to carry out her original mission was compromised, it would need to change. She couldn't collect information and get it outside the compound anymore, but she could still collect the product itself, which she would have eventually needed to do anyway, just at a more convenient time of her choosing. It would be risky, and some of her colleagues might get in her way, but that was nothing she wasn't prepared to handle. Alias's guards would be no different and they would be no match for her. She'd slip out of the compound with the virus and would be long gone by the time they discover whatever bodies she'd leave in her wake and it would have to be soon. Tonight even.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. If so, stay tuned for Episode 2.