Alivia's senses had gone on high alert since the unexpected halt on the train, though she maintained a calm demeanor; twenty years in the military had bred both severe alertness and implacable composure in her like one breeds a mutt. She had no reason to suspect danger beyond what errant lab experiments could cause - which, granted, could be significant, but damn it, she was a soldier, not a scientist - but like any soldier being sent into unknown circumstances with virtually no explanation beyond "lab incident" and "quarantine," Alivia was frustrated by the lack of useful information.
Proceeding the few employees who had decided to traverse the sewers, Alivia kept her watchful silence, handsome face marred by a stern frown. She had only been with Umbrella for two years, so even though no considerable incidents had ever occurred during her time there, that time had been short and for all she knew this was an uncommon but not unheard of event in their history. Still, nothing set the work day to a bad start like traipsing through tunnels of crap and refuse. It didn't help much that it was not the worst smelling place she had ever been in.
Idly musing that she would probably have to burn the olive colored tank top and gray sweatpants she was wearing - her dire black security uniform was in her work locker - Alivia entered into the Main Hall of the Umbrella Research Center. Her eyes raked over the day staff awaiting them there, quickly assessing the situation as best as she could with what little she knew. There was an air of tension, a sort of curious concern, but no one was panicking or weepy, which was encouraging.
An elderly woman approached, naming herself as Samantha Knauf - the name tickled with familiarity, but distant and unimportant. Alivia's nerves rattled a bit as the researcher explained what she could; the woman could fight enemies who carried guns and zeal, but chemical outbreaks were outside her comfort zone and made her feel enragingly helpless. How could she protect people from a gas or a poison, or whatever the hell else these scientists could concoct, when the same people who constructed it couldn't even protect themselves?
Play with fire...
Stifling a disgusted growl, Alivia's gaze went to the unconscious man with a face pockmarked by bird-inflicted wounds, of all things. That such an unimaginable thing could happen at the same time as a strange quarantine seemed far beyond coincidence, and Alivia wondered if the bird had somehow gotten exposed to something at the facility, giving it rabid aggressiveness. Odd, definitely unlikely, but not impossible. The man looked far south of terrible, his skin clammy and pale, veins bulging grotesquely.
"If they want that bird," she spoke aloud to the night shift employees who had accompanied her to help, "I'll get them that damn bird. Can't help people who decide to poison themselves, but I can kill a bird. Any of you kiddos want to watch my back, feel free. Maybe we'll find those guards while we're at it."
That made the hair on her neck stand taut. She was all too familiar with screams, and disappearing patrols. Alivia kept her tone light - well, as light as anyone whose normal tone sounded reminiscent of a drill sergeant could manage - and even flicked the others a tight-lipped smile, but haunting memories of war made her itch for her pistol, secured elsewhere in the facility.
The veteran did a quick search of the first floor of the Main Hall, rather severely decorated with obnoxious amounts of intricate stonework, statues, and oil paintings that made it feel more like a medieval castle than a research facility. The place had always given her the creeps, though it was usually easily suppressed. Not quite so tonight.
A perusal through a metal filing cabinet tucked cozily in a corner rewarded her diligent search with a lockpick, oddly enough. As it turned out, the filing cabinet housed little in the way of files and instead looked almost like a "lost and found," if most of the contents of a "lost and found" were snacks. A few other items were buried under the food, but nothing else interested her, and so she closed the drawer and moved on.
Satisfied that the first floor was about as bare as it looked, Alivia ascended the steps up and to the left, reaching the second floor of the Main Hall overlooking the few staff members loitering below. Again she searched about for anything that might be prove useful, particularly if it could fend off - and kill - an aggressive bird that may or may not actually be dead. While her unrealistic hopes had been that she would stumble across a gun conspicuously perched on a table for no apparent reason, what she found instead was a crowbar on the floor next to a small vent. The crowbar had clearly been used to pry it open, but considering the vent was too small for anything larger than a raccoon to pass through, Alivia was unsure what the purpose of the labor was, and she frankly didn't care.
She tested the crowbar's sturdiness for a moment, then scanned across the plaques on the doorways that indicated which led where, though she was familiar enough with the research center to at least know that much. Two paces from her was the door leading to the Living Room. Deciding that she would check there for the rabid little winged pest first, she leaned out over the railing and called to her comrades below.
"Last chance for feathered glory, kids. Who's with me?"
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