Home sweet home...

[Albert Wesker]

Wesker had barely gone half a dozen steps from his trophy room when Agent HUNK fell into step alongside him. "Your thoughts, Mister Death?"

"Little too fancy for my tastes, really," the operative responded. "But not bad. Isolated. Well-equipped. Wouldn't stand up forever to a determined attack, but it's defensible." He nodded. "And it's a hell of a lot better than having nowhere to go at all."

"Ever the military-minded one," Wesker mused, with a mild grin. He reached up to adjust his sunglasses. "You are correct, of course. This place is not a truly fortified stronghold, but it is sufficiently equipped and sturdily built enough to serve as more than adequate shelter from the unpleasantries this verse has to offer." As they reached the doors to the mansion's meeting room, he paused, tilting his head up slightly. "If I could trouble you to do so, round up the Delta Team and bring them here. We have matters to discuss."

"Anything in particular?" If Agent HUNK was bothered by such a menial task, it didn't show in his tone. "You know the one who's going to ask."

"It's time to set the wolfpack loose, and use them to gather information more quickly," the executive responded simply, pushing the doors open. "I'm going to outline which of those wolves is going where in their explorations."

"Letting them run wild to gather intel," the security officer repeated. "That's going to be a mess." He turned on one heel to leave and do as instructed, but paused after only two paces, as something occurred to him. After a handful of silent seconds, he simply pushed it aside and strode away. It could wait to be brought up during the upcoming discussion; no need to stall for it now.