"That will work nicely," Woodrow said quietly.  He was in the lab by himself, as usual.  He laughed silently; everyone thought he was crazy, but not after this.  Not after he caught all of them.  Everyone on Umbrella's most wanted list would be in the palm of his hand if everything went according to plan.  He could hardly contain his glee.  He laughed again, but no one heard, and that's the way he liked it.  No one could know of his plan… Not yet anyway.

            Woodrow looked closely at his latest achievement, a new strain of the T-virus, or as he liked to call it "Blue Death".  He smiled into his reflection in the test tube; his entire face was an azure shade of blue from the liquid inside the container.

            "They didn't think I could do it," he said to himself, "but I have, I've created a perfect strain of the T-virus."  And that fool Birkin didn't have anything to do with it.  He smirked at his reflection again, no one can compare to my genius.  Birkin's virus was obsolete; Umbrella shouldn't have even bothered with it.  He laughed again, louder this time.  Everything was perfect.  Well not everything, but he would have the last piece of the puzzle in a matter of weeks, all he needed was time.  His laugh echoed off the cold concrete walls of his lab.  Yes, time, that's all that was stopping him from his ultimate goal.  But soon time would be up, and he would be well on his way to control Umbrella.