Summary: Albert Wesker and William Birkin receive the news that Alexia Ashford will be working for Umbrella as chief researcher. Based on Wesker Report's official Wesker Report's 2 file.
July 27th, 1981
Today we received a piece of news in Arklay. Umbrella Pharmaceuticals had hired a ten-year-old girl as chief researcher. Her name: Alexia Ashford.
Alexia Ashford is the daughter of one of Umbrella's two presidents, Alexander. Unexpected but reasonable. As in any other organization, nepotism runs through Umbrella's veins since its founding. Whatever else it is, what it is about it does not concern me. However, the news has provoked a reaction in Birkin that I did not like.
In less than a month I will be twenty-one years old, and Birkin is already nineteen. Our record as the youngest heads of research in the corporation may have been broken, but our reputation is unblemished. It is we who are leading the major biological weapons projects and deciding the direction the T-virus is taking. However, it seems that to Will our unblemished track record is not enough.
His reaction was tremendous. His eyes rolled back in his head and his breathing quickened. Glancing sideways at him, I immediately knew that his heart had dropped to his stomach and his testicles had risen to his throat. His cheeks were burning, and his fists were shaking. I asked him what was wrong, and he didn't answer. He just stood there clenching his fists. Then he reread the news and cursed loudly, slamming his fists on the table. The coffee cup spilled on the table, splashing me. I insulted him. William insulted himself and then walked out of the lab. He slammed the door. He was out for a few minutes and came back. He slammed another table while I wiped the coffee stains off with a piece of paper. I insulted him again to see his reaction. He put his back against the wall and stood there, crestfallen. He muttered something intelligible.
Silence.
That's how the real-world works, I told him. They have the money, and we are the suckers who work to earn their money. They have the power, and they do what they want with that power, including placing their children, I tried to reason. But William was stuck in place. He raised his head and we looked at each other. I saw a fawn wounded by an invisible bullet. The loss of innocence. The denial of reality: that no matter how good you are, you are nothing more than an anonymous pawn in a chess game to which you are not invited.
I fear the consequences. William is a teenager pretending to be an adult.
Damn it.
Albert Wesker