September 30, 1998, 8:30 PM, Eddie's Private Laboratory
The phone rang, a shrill sound that cut through the almost religious silence of the laboratory. Eddie answered, his voice a low murmur. "Yes?"
On the other end, Lupo's voice came through, a crackle of static layered over field-hardened professionalism. "Eddie. Status?"
"Secure. And you?"
"We're stuck. Another operation. It'll be another month before we're back." A pause followed, the sound of a deep breath. "Send the paycheck. And be careful. Don't die before I return."
"Understood." A faint smile tugged at his lips. "The Wolf Pack?"
"Solid," Lupo confirmed. "Yamata is loyal. The others follow."
"Good. When you're back, I'll have a special gift for you." An enhancement, he thought. An offer she couldn't refuse.
Another pause, longer, more hesitant. "Sophia… wants to come to Raccoon City. She wants to see you." Her voice, for the first time, lost its military edge, cracked by a maternal vulnerability.
Eddie's smile vanished. "No," he said, his voice firm, uncompromising. "Absolutely not. This place is about to become a graveyard. Take her somewhere east. Far from here. That's an order, Karen."
He heard her breath on the other end, a mix of relief and submission. "Understood. I'll wait for your gift."
He hung up, the silence once more filling the room. Turning back to his workbench, he looked at the pieces of his Samurai Edge lying there like the bones of a metallic skeleton. He immersed himself again in the task, the assembly of a weapon that was an extension of his will, a cold steel anchor in a world about to ignite. The Tactical Squad. Another stage, another role to play. He wondered if they would put him in a team with Jill. The thought was both tempting and dangerous.
Hours later, the weapon was complete. He weighed it in his hand. Perfect.
The laboratory door slid open with a hiss.
Annette entered, but she was not the same woman as before. She moved with an unnatural stiffness, her eyes empty, as if they were looking through him, through the walls, into a horror only she could see.
"Annette, what is it?" he asked, his voice alert, concerned.
"Eddie… I'm sorry," she whispered, the words a lifeless breath.
"Sorry? For what? Do you have a fever?" He stepped closer, genuine confusion etched across his face.
"I have to tell you something," she continued, her voice trembling. "But you must promise me… promise me you won't get angry."
He crossed his arms, his gaze hardening. "Promise."
She inhaled deeply, like a swimmer about to dive into freezing waters. "I read William's diary. In 1988… Spencer ordered him and Albert Wesker to… kill Dr. Marcus."
The words hung between them, heavy, toxic.
"I… I'm so sorry… I didn't expect my husband to be involved in this…"
Eddie's reaction was silence. A silence so deep and still it was more terrifying than a scream. Slowly, he turned back to his workbench. Calmly, he began putting away his tools, preparing a small bag with medical supplies for Yoko.
Annette stared at him, stunned. That's it? He isn't angry? "Eddie… aren't you truly angry?"
"Angry?" He stopped, his back still to her. "Anger is a wasted emotion, Annette. Useless." He turned, and his eyes were cold, devoid of anything but glacial calculation. "I knew they were involved. This is only confirmation."
"If I were angry," he continued, his voice dropping to a near-intimate whisper, "would you divorce him?"
"W-what are you saying?" Annette lowered her head, a flush of shame and confusion coloring her cheeks.
"And if I were angry enough to kill him? How would you feel then? I don't want to make you sad, Annette." His words were a caress and a threat, poison wrapped in honey.
She looked at him, both moved and terrified. This man was a monster, but he was her monster. "Thank you… I'll try to make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want. What do you want, Eddie?"
Eddie's smile spread, slow, predatory. He stepped closer, invading her personal space until he was close enough to feel the heat radiating from her enhanced body.
"You asked," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. "Don't regret your decision, all right?" He leaned even closer, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her neck. "Because Annette… I want everything."