September 15th, 1998, 9:00 PM, The Mansion's Heliport
The helicopter blades sliced through the night air with a deafening roar. Alex, already aboard, leaned out from the open hatch. The wind whipped her blonde hair across her face, but her gaze was steady, fixed on Eddie standing on the concrete pad below.
"Don't worry about me!" he shouted over the noise. "I'll be careful. After all, I have to stay alive to see our son born, don't I?" His usual arrogant smirk was a fragile mask in the helicopter's strobing lights.
She offered a smile in return, one that was both alluring and melancholic. "We'll talk about children when I'm cured. Then, perhaps, I'll grant you one." Her tone was light, but her eyes said something else entirely. "Be well, my dear."
With a final nod, she pulled back. The hatch slid shut, and the helicopter ascended into the darkness, becoming a pulsing point of light that soon vanished behind the treetops. Eddie stood watching the empty sky, the fading roar replaced by the unsettling silence of the forest. For Alex, career, power, and survival always came first. She was a calculator. And he, as much as it pained him to admit, was just one variable in her complex equation.
Meanwhile, in secret places and windowless rooms, other equations were being calculated. The U.S. military had its sights set on William Birkin's G-Virus. Umbrella was an obstacle, a powerful dragon guarding its treasure. But even dragons could be slain. And the covert contacts between generals and traitorous scientists had already begun.
September 16th, 1998, 5:30 PM, Outside the Raccoon City Police Department
The day after, Eddie found himself walking outside the R.P.D. headquarters, a hot cup of coffee in his hand. Jill's shift was almost over. It was a small gesture, an attempt at normalcy in a world that was spiraling into madness.
As he crossed the street, a figure slammed into him. The impact was sudden, feeling almost deliberate. Hot coffee splashed across his shirt, a dark stain spreading rapidly over the expensive fabric.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I am so terribly clumsy!"
A blonde woman with a short, neat haircut and an innocent-looking face stared at him, her eyes wide with feigned contrition. She was beautiful, in an almost too-perfect way.
"Don't worry about it," Eddie replied, his tone chilly as he dabbed at his shirt with a handkerchief. His eyes were already scanning, cataloging every detail: the practical shoes under the summer dress, the defined muscles in her arms, the way her body had tensed an instant before impact. She wasn't a civilian.
"I insist!" she said, her voice a persistent chirp. "Let me buy you another coffee. And the shirt! It's the least I can do."
Something was wrong. The "accident" was too convenient, her insistence too theatrical.
"That's not necessary," he said, his voice hardening. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do."
He tried to step around her, but she moved to block him again, grabbing his arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "Please. It's a matter of principle. I have to make it right."
Eddie stopped. He looked her directly in the eyes. For a fraction of a second, he saw a flash of frustration behind the mask of innocence. And in that flicker, the pieces clicked into place. Sienna Fowler. Echo Six, government Spec Ops. He'd seen the name in Alex's private files. Infiltration and seduction specialist. A spy.
An icy smile formed on Eddie's lips. "Let go of my arm," he said, his voice now a low, menacing hiss. "Or I'll call the police. And believe me, you don't want me to do that." His free hand moved slowly toward the inside pocket of his jacket. "If you have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, see a professional. If you're looking for a man, there's a dating agency down the street. But if you're looking for trouble, you just found it."
Sienna snatched her hand back as if burned, her expression shifting from surprise to controlled anger.
Eddie didn't give her time to respond. He turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk, her mission a miserable failure.
Sienna clenched her fists, cursing under her breath. It was supposed to be a simple operation. Approach, seduce, obtain the schematics for the underground lab. But this man wasn't like the others. He wasn't some spoiled tycoon or a corrupt politician. He was something else. Something more dangerous.
On a nearby rooftop, a woman watched the scene through the scope of a sniper rifle. "Caroline to Echo Six," she murmured into her comms. "Plan A is a bust. Target did not take the bait. I repeat, target did not take the bait."
"Acknowledged," Sienna's voice replied in her earpiece, tight with fury. "We're moving to Plan B."