Summary: William Birkin and Albert Wesker leave the Training Centre. Both begin their research on the Progenitor virus and Ebola.
I
After the last class, Miller summoned Birkin and Wesker to his office to proceed with the signing of their employment contract. Oswell E. Spencer, on the recommendation of Dr. Marcus, was offering them an irresistible opportunity: to be heads of research at a clandestine laboratory he had built on the outskirts of Raccoon City. Yes, clandestine; just like their contract. They were graced with a salary and extraordinary bonuses in exchange for their silence.
Wesker signed without thinking.
Birkin hesitated before stamping a quick scribble on the paper.
Miller pocketed both contracts in a folder and wished them good luck.
II
Their last day at the training center consisted of repacking their bags and going up to the roof to await the landing of a helicopter that would transport them to the popularly known Spencer mansion. There was no graduation ceremony or valedictory speech. Their celebration consisted of Dr. Marcus shaking their hands and wishing them good luck before leaving for the roof. Miller didn't even accompany him.
The helicopter landed. The rotor churned the stale air around them, the stench of gasoline in the air. Wesker opened the cockpit door and indicated to Birkin where he should place the bags and sit down. Unbeknownst to him, it was Wesker who strapped him in as the pilot signaled the start of takeoff. Birkin felt nauseous during the vertical lift.
III
The building loomed above the treetops. A mansion. They landed on a helipad located on the roof. They were greeted on the tarmac by an aging, middle-aged, half-bald man. He introduced himself as the Director, without mentioning his real name. The Director handed them a dossier with information about the facility and their research project. On his way to the elevator, Birkin forgot his suitcase. Inside the cubicle, the Director asked him to please pick it up. On the way down, Wesker asked the Director if the place was called by any names and he said no, just nicknames: Spencer Mansion for the country house and Arklay Laboratories for everything else.
Once the elevator doors opened, the Director led them down an aseptic corridor to armored doors. Behind them, they discovered a huge laboratory equipped with state-of-the-art technology. Technology infinitely more expensive than that available at their prestigious universities. Here, said the Director, is where they would conduct all of their research. Birkin trembled with nervousness as Wesker nodded excitedly. In front of one of the control panels, Birkin began to fiddle with some buttons. The Director became enraged and called him to attention. Birkin, crestfallen but without losing an ounce of elation, apologized. The tour of the main laboratory over, the Director led them to their rooms slash dormitories slash apartments. These were in a sort of wooden house that looked cheap compared to the stone mansion overlooking the lower garden. Good thing they would never share a bedroom again.
The pseudo-apartment wasn't too bad. It had its own toilet with bathtub, desk, double bed and solid wood closets. Once they had gotten rid of the heavy suitcases, they met the Director in a sort of bar/lounge area. They climbed the stairs to a mezzanine and sat on steel stools facing three of the four sides of an unused pool table.
The Director explained to them that they were under his orders at that facility, but that the boss of the whole world was Oswell E. Spencer in that half of the company. The other half of the company belonged to Alexander Ashford. Publicly, Albert Wesker and William Birkin were listed as employees supposedly working in a tiny laboratory that Spencer had set up in Raccoon City as a front. Officially, it was there that Birkin and Wesker were listed as heads of research. The need for the ruse stemmed from the fact that their real business was not pharmaceuticals, but bioweapons. And bioweapons would be their business. Finally, the Director forbade them to enter the mansion without his permission. The mansion was the territory of the owner and the employees who guarded the estate.
With that said, the Director left. Birkin and Wesker were left alone. Birkin avoided Wesker's gaze and Wesker stared at Birkin. Wesker wouldn't stand another second of self-imposed discomfort without murdering Birkin, so he reached out his hand in kindness.
"Albert Wesker," he said the first thing that came to his mind. "I'm from New York. I went to Columbia."
Birkin weakly overcame his resistance.
"I'm glad we've both been appointed chief investigators. It's always good to stay competitive so as not to lose faculty," he insisted.
Birkin raised his hand in return.
"Hello. My name is William Birkin. I'm from Baltimore, Maryland. I graduated from Harvard University. Sixteen years old. My parents are from Baltimore, too. We've always been from Baltimore. Uh... Uhm. I'm glad, too." They shook hands.
"Of course." Wesker smiled.
A strategy as stupid as it was effective.
IV
The probability of an Ebola infected person not surviving was around 90%. There was no cure. The dossier made it clear that his goal was to use a sample of the Ebola virus to make a B.O.W. out of it. Birkin showed a keen interest that translated into long and intense working days. For the first few days, Wesker found it hard to keep up with the demonic pace of the haggard teenager, so he shifted his focus. To excel on his own, he centralized staff and laboratory management, functions that Birkin had neglected because of his tendency to self-absorption and obvious lack of people skills. Thus, while Birkin burned hours with the more esoteric elements of research, Wesker poked around the facility to find out how his employer really worked.
In the meantime, Wesker sold his switchblade, the one he had kept under his bed at the training center, to a security guard. He shed his once beloved red bomber jacket and traded in the short-sleeved T-shirts with the US Navy logo for the shirts and sweaters he bought with his first paycheck. The effect of his style change was felt by Birkin, who was more talkative because he felt less intimidated. Birkin talked about how much he loved Star Trek and that he had dreamed of becoming an astrophysicist. Discussing U.S. foreign policy, Birkin said Vietnam had been a mistake and Wesker revealed that he left the military because he didn't feel like dying as a nobody in a Cambodian minefield and that his work at Umbrella would help him avoid conscription.
With the first results, the Director briefed them on the second phase of the project: combining Ebola with a virus discovered by Ashford, Marcus and Spencer, the Progenitor virus.
V
He was about twenty-five years old at the time. Name, unknown. Origin, unknown. Eleven years later, she was still alive. A deformed female form. A parody of a human being languishing on a battered cell bed.
The Director smiled sardonically. He said she was available to them as a test subject.
At that instant, Birkin and Wesker knew there was no turning back.
Birkin let out an infrasounding curse.
Spencer wants results, the Director concluded.