Summary: William Birkin completes the Beta strain of the T-virus. Oswell E. Spencer and Alexander Ashford sign their first commercial contract for the sale of biological weapons. Albert Wesker gathers enough information on the two Umbrella presidents.
I
Convulsion.
The creature's hands moved. The legs trembled. The eyes opened. The torso jerked and the creature sat up straight. Mouth open, oozing saliva and bile; rotten teeth protruding like fangs.
The creature kept its balance. Then it walked. One step. Two steps. Staggering as if drunk, to nowhere. It hit the wall. It raised its arms. It clawed at the concrete. Fingernails came loose from both hands.
A gate slid behind it. A dog. A Doberman. The Doberman barked in fright. The creature turned around. The Doberman, barricaded between the closed gate and the creature, bared its teeth. The creature did not back down. The Doberman stepped forward: it bit the creature on the leg. But the creature felt no pain. With the impact, it pounced on its prey.
The creature bit off a chunk of its snout. The Doberman whimpered and rolled over, but the creature held it in its immovable arms. It went for a foreleg. Food. The doberman, limp, fell to the ground. The creature preyed on the torso, peeling away layers of dermis until it reached the intestines. It ate most of the intestines. Satisfied, it rose again. It wandered in circles around the tiny cell.
Convulsion.
The Doberman's legs twitched.
Beta strain completed. The first fully functional biological weapon; a scientific prodigy. However, there was a handicap. Ten percent of the population was immune. 0% immunity had been mandated, but, for the moment, Beta was enough. His greatest success; his first great achievement.
Dr William Birkin.
The nameplate made him smile slyly. The PhD had been a cakewalk compared to his real job. A couple of years invested, and he was done. Doctor. Now he really felt like the chief researcher at Umbrella's top clandestine lab, like their top researcher. He already had two major projects under his command: the T-virus Beta project and the Cerberus project. Spencer had called him to congratulate him. Everyone trusted him. He was the best. But he didn't waste any time either. Spencer demanded that he solve the 10% problem and he came up with a new idea. A crazy idea, but in line with the research he had done.
The Hunter project.
Spencer called him back. A risky and expensive idea. But they made a deal: if he got results within a year, Spencer would increase the lab's funding.
Birkin agreed.
He would meet his boss's fiscal demands at all costs. He couldn't afford a single mistake, a single failure. And so, his former life faded with every sunrise over Arklay. Two years shy of coming of age, he had surpassed the expectations of the company's top brass and the rest of the scientists on staff, who were much older than him. He was euphoric and couldn't stop working flat out. Whether he was paid or not didn't matter to him as long as he achieved his goal: to rise to the top of the company's hierarchy; to sit at the executive table, even if he had to sacrifice his youth to do so.
II
A white dome of smoke had formed over Oswell's head. At times, instead of smoking, he seemed to be chewing his cigar with relish as he reviewed the supplementary papers to the main contract he had received from an unnamed Department of Defense agent. For his part, Alexander was silently sipping his third glass of Scotch. Their first massive sale of biological weapons to the Western military-industrial complex.
Oswell read diagonally through the eternal clauses set out in the supplementary papers like a list of meaningless legal fanfares. What was important was on the last page of the main contract: how much, how much money, how much to spend. Alexander asked Anthony Campbell, his cousin, to advise them on how to read and sign the contract. Oswell didn't want any surprises or backstabbing later. Fortunately, Anthony verified the integrity of the agreement. Now it was up to the two presidents.
And they had a problem. The bioweapons production model remained as defined by Edward Ashford and Oswell E. Spencer a few days before founding Umbrella, with both presidents responsible for an independent line of research. Although Spencer was neither a virologist nor a passionate scientist, he knew how to manage a company and its employees, while Edward was a virologist and knew how to manage research teams. Ultimately, it was established that both presidents would lord it over a portion of the company to accelerate the development of new projects and that the two lines would not overlap or saturate each other.
At first, until Edward's death, the idea seemed good. Then, with Alexander, Oswell chided himself for his naivety. The initial plan was forged on the basis of Edward's assumed experience and Marcus's greater commitment. But with Edward out of the picture, what remained was an underachieving Ashford junior, an anti-social Marcus and a Spencer on the verge of an anxiety attack over the fateful prospect of economic growth. Thatcher's fiscal policy had helped them to clean up the books, but they were still in the same rut and Spencer wanted to end it as soon as possible by unifying all lines of enquiry into one. He would not go to his grave with an absurd bankruptcy.
The point is that the fine thread on which his success hung was in the hands of the individual sitting opposite him. Alexander would not budge an inch, even though his line of enquiry was going down. Spencer tried to convince him, appealing to his father's memory, if necessary, but nothing. He had clung to the possibility that his beloved daughter, Alexia, would take up Edward's unfinished work to revive a line of enquiry deader than the pharaohs of the Lower Nile. And that was as far as it went. Oswell cursed the memory of all his ancestors from the 20th century to the kingdom of Scotland.
However, he calmed down and, on second thoughts, soon changed his attitude.
He gave in to Alexander's demand on one condition: that all the necessary resources be allocated to the Arklay laboratory, at least to fulfil the most immediate contracts. Alexander reluctantly agreed. Spencer assured him that his two chief researchers, one Birkin and one Wesker, would be sufficient for the delivery of the first full B. package in the form of a couple of samples of the Beta strain and a squadron of Cerberus.
"What kind of war are we getting into?" Oswell mumbled.
"Afghanistan, maybe."
"Hum. Fuck the Commies. Anyway. Shall we sign?"
Alexander put the glass away and pulled a gold pen from inside his jacket.
"We sign."
III
Albert stored everything he had collected on the presidents of Umbrella in a file overflowing with printed sheets.
Oswell Ernest Spencer was a sexagenarian from the south of England, specifically, the county of Essex, where his country house, The Spencer Estate, was located. Only son of Abraham Spencer, 2nd Earl Spencer. Unmarried and childless. Known for his extravagant artistic sensibility and his love of hunting, which he practiced regularly on his Essex estate. Hereditary member of the House of Lords. Resident in the Principality of Luxembourg since the 1950s, where he built a replica of his ancestral home. Arklay's Spencer mansion was also inspired by his country house. In his youth he attended Eton College. Graduated from two university degrees in the United States. Affiliated with the Conservative Party. A staunch capitalist, as his very small public appearances made clear. Allegedly, Spencer was a member of the exclusive Harriett Club, made up of billionaires and other influential British personalities linked to politics, business, and the media. Outside of Umbrella and his other companies, knowledge of Spencer's private activities was negligible. He was generally regarded as a mysterious figure, unknown to the tabloids. Somewhat more information was available about his relatives, such as his cousin Beatrice Spencer, the current inhabitant of The Spencer Estate after her cousin's departure for Luxembourg.
Alexander Charles Johannes Arthur Duncan Ashford-Campbell-Douglas-Stuart was a Scots-Dutchman residing at Ashford Hall, Northumberland. He was the sixth Earl Ashford and the rightful heir to the late Stuart dynasty in the United Kingdom. Divorced with two children: Alfred, the heir, and Alexia, a child prodigy who started university at the age of seven. Known for his love of boxing and for participating in television talk shows. Affiliated with the Conservative Party and honorary fellow of the Royal Society[1]. Hereditary seat in the House of Lords. Most relevant: Grand Master or 'head' of Jacob's Circle, a little-known secret society which is attributed with a decisive occult power in British domestic and foreign policy.
Interesting, but insufficient. The data collection was not enough for him because his goal was not knowledge, but to infiltrate Umbrella's power networks. And to do that, he had to make contacts. Get to know other employees. He would not stay locked up in a lab for eternity. He had changed his mind about his destiny: he wanted to possess the Progenitor virus and make its limitless potential his own. He wanted to be more than just an employee, no matter how high his rank.
That was his desire.
Notes:
[1] Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge.