September 15th, 1998, Arklay Mountains Mansion
Nearly two months had passed. Two months in which the air in Raccoon City had grown heavier, thick with an unspoken fear. In Eddie's mansion, silence had become a constant companion.
Alex sat in her study, the desk lamp illuminating her pale face and the pages of an old, leather-bound volume. Before her, standing at attention, was Vladimir Bodrovski. His Triangle Team uniform was immaculate, his posture rigid, but his eyes never left her face.
"Report," Alex said, not looking up from her book.
"Ma'am. Team leader Lupo has us on an intensive training regimen on Rockfort Island. Bio-weapon combat simulations."
"Continue monitoring," she ordered. "I want to know everything. Every weakness. Every strength. Especially Lupo's."
"Yes, ma'am." Bodrovski executed a perfect military salute. There was no fear in his eyes, only a fanatical devotion. Unlike her brother Albert, who used his subordinates as disposable pawns, Alex cultivated them. She made them feel part of something greater. And they, in turn, were willing to die for her.
When Bodrovski had gone, Alex closed the book. Ever since learning the truth about Spencer, she had chosen her side. And it was not with a mad, dying old man. But patience was a weapon. Spencer was still useful. For now.
Meanwhile, on Rockfort Island, Lupo was fully aware she had a spy in her squad. She felt it in the way Bodrovski watched her, in the way he reported every communication. But she did nothing. A known spy was better than an unknown one. And every piece of information Bodrovski passed to Alex was a piece of information she wanted Alex to have. It was a chess game played on multiple boards, and she was a master.
With the Triangle Team away, Eddie's defenses were dangerously thin. But it was a necessary sacrifice. Rockfort Island was the only place they could be forged into a weapon sharp enough to face the hell that was about to break loose. It was the same training ground that had turned an ordinary soldier into a legend named Hunk. A place where you learned to look a Licker in the eye without flinching, to know a Hunter's weaknesses before it even leaped.
That evening, Alex found Eddie in his laboratory. She was leaving.
"I have to go to France," she said, her voice as calm and controlled as ever as she placed a tablet in her briefcase. "A problem at the Paris branch. I won't be long."
"Now?" he asked, frowning. "With everything that's happening?"
"It's an emergency," she replied. "But it's also an opportunity. Be careful, Eddie. Spencer is still in the city. And Sergei is his rabid dog. Don't underestimate them. And keep an eye on my brother."
"You be careful, too," he said. He stepped closer, holding out a small, sealed vial. Inside, a pale, opalescent liquid swirled.
"What is it?" she asked, taking it with hesitant fingers.
"A diluted version of my serum. Stabilized with a sample of your cells. It's a crude product, a work-in-progress. But it should be enough to suppress the symptoms of your… condition. Temporarily."
Alex's eyes widened slightly. She stared at the vial as if it were a rare and dangerous jewel.
"I haven't had time for extensive testing," he continued. "There could be adverse reactions. If anything happens, anything at all, contact me immediately."
Creating a perfect serum was a nightmare. It required thousands of attempts, a sheer luck he did not possess, and a time that was running out. He could only experiment, fail, and try again.
Alex looked up from the vial, and for the first time since he'd known her, Eddie saw something in her eyes other than cold ambition or intellectual curiosity. It was gratitude. A gratitude so pure and intense it was almost frightening.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She stepped toward him and, with an unexpectedly maternal gesture, straightened the collar of his shirt. "Take care of yourself. I don't want to receive bad news while I'm away."
Then, without another word, she turned and left, with Stewart following like a silent shadow. Eddie remained alone in the laboratory, her scent still lingering in the air. And for the first time, he felt truly vulnerable.