As Chris and the rest of the group exited the bathyscaphe, they entered a dimly lit cylindrical passage with another hatch at the end. The airlock behind them closed with a sharp clank, sealing everyone in.

No turning back now, Chris thought grimly.

There was a rush of escaping air, so sudden and violent that Chris' ears popped painfully. Behind him, Kenway grunted. "Fucking hell."

After several moments, the forward hatch finally opened. It flowed into a large atrium with a high, vaulted ceiling, crisp white walls and modular seating. The group entered, awed by the modern and cavernous space. It was empty, almost creepily so.

"Avalon Station consists of five Sub Levels. We are on the first: administration and communications. Sub Level 2 consists of dormitories, where you'll be staying, as well as recreation and leisure spaces. Sub Level 3: laboratories and research workspaces, the meat of the facility. Sub Level 4 is maintenance and life systems."

"Life systems?" Zetterberg asked.

"Oxygen and climate control, thermal energy management, power distribution. All the essentials for ensuring we don't suffocate and freeze to death."

Adam took in the huge room with a shaky breath. "What about Sub Level 5?"

"Sorry?"

"You said there were five levels."

"Sub Level 5 is where the discovery is held. For tonight, it's classified. I hope you all look forward to touring it tomorrow."

"Wait," Chris said, "Tomorrow?"

"We're running a skeleton crew this weekend, Agent Redfield. What little staff we do have," she checked the time on her tablet, "are shuttling off to bed right now. It's been a long day and we'd like you to get acclimatized to the facility before we get down to brass tacks."

Zetterberg tilted his head. "You're kidding."

"I never kid."

"I actually believe that," Kenway snorted.

"Dr. Mifune, if you'll please wait here in the atrium, the head of our security team will be around shortly to escort you to your quarters on Sub Level 2. Everyone else, I'd like a quick word before you retire for the night."

Chris grunted under his breath. Withholding the true nature of the facility for another day was a power play, plain and simple.

Sanaa headed for one of the corridors that led out of the atrium. Kenway briskly acknowledged Adam as she went. Zetterberg saluted him with another wink, "Later, lillebror."

Chris hung back until everyone else was out of earshot. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Adam nodded to the leaving team. "I wouldn't wanna be alone in a room with her."

Chris chuckled. "I might actually be safer staying here with you."

"I wouldn't mind that," Adam said, a little too quickly. He turned an impressive shade of red. "I mean, I-"

"Redfield," Kenway's voice called across the huge room. "Get your flirt on some other time, buddy."

Chris felt his face grow as hot as Adam's surely was. "Talk to you later."

"Right. Sure. If you don't know where to find me I'll be the one with his head buried in the sand."

Chris left with a curt nod - and the start of a smile. He jogged to catch up with the departing group.

Sanaa's office was much like her: pristine and ordered, cleanly to the point of being antiseptic. Nothing was out of place, not even a stray pen or paperclip. Chris and his teammates took their seats across her polished oak desk.

"I wanted to address a few housekeeping items before your investigation," she put air quotes around the word, as if it were dirty, "officially begins. We are happy to cooperate with Blue Umbrella or the BSAA or any watchdog group curious about what we're doing. Avalon's true purpose has been kept from the public only out of safety and security concerns. We don't have to tell you that corporate espionage and intellectual piracy are unfortunate realities we must deal with in today's hyper-connected world."

"We understand," Chris said.

"Good. What I'm trying to say is that while you have permission to observe what we've found and to audit our records, what you witness here will not go beyond the walls of this facility."

"With all due respect, Miss Wilke, we have an obligation to be transparent with Blue Umbrella."

Chris felt a certain unease in saying that - and hoped that Sanaa couldn't tell. Blue Umbrella was a recent entity, a supposed agent of good forged in the ashes of the former company's malfeasance. They seemed to trust Chris, but he was still figuring out how to trust them.

"And I respect that obligation, Agent Redfield. Your superiors and I have already come to an agreement. The only thing you will reveal to the outside world is whether or not Avalon is violating the Raccoon City Accords. That is your only purpose."

The events behind Raccoon City's destruction in 1998 were leaked not long after President Benson's death. The coverup was decried. The world had been wracked with bioterrorism attacks and the public was fed up. As a result, the United States government collaborated with the United Nations to create the Raccoon City Accords. It was a landmark piece of legislation that severely regulated genetic and biomedical experimentation. All 120 countries who ratified the Accords must approve of any research that falls into those categories, and even then, said research must explicitly benefit humanity or the environment and pass stringently set standards. In other words, no weapons and no viruses. Ever.

There were people who said the Accords were restrictive and detrimental to the scientific community. These unforgiving regulations, they said, obstructed humanity's ability to grow and evolve. Considering everything that Chris had seen in his career, he held a much different opinion.

The room had fallen silent. Sanaa eyed each operative carefully. "Am I to take these lack of responses as acceptance? May we move on?"

Both Zetterberg and Kenway looked to Chris. As much as he wanted to point out how obtuse and indirect this whole excursion had been, he still had to lead by example. As difficult as that often was.

"We can move on, ma'am," Chris said.

"Then enlighten me as to what role each of you will serve in this investigation." The air quotes again.

Kenway exhaled impatiently. She was as tired of this as Chris was, but didn't have his restraint. "I do the computer stuff."

"The... computer stuff, Agent Kenway?"

"I'll be the one looking over databases, records, and shared network drives. If you guys have a Microsoft Word document called Our Evil Plan somewhere, it would make my job a lot easier."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Something tells me you're used to saying that."

Sanaa glared. "Pardon?"

Zetterberg abruptly cut in, more eager to deflect the tension than to actually speak. "Erm, so, my role is protection officer. I accompany Mr. Redfield and assess physical threats."

"The muscle," Sanaa noted. "Seems fitting."

"Thank you?"

Kenway, quietly: "I don't think that was a compliment, Paul Bunyan."

"That leaves us with you." Sanaa settled on Chris. "Am I right in assuming you're the alpha of the pack?"

"Not how I'd phrase it, but yes, I'm taking point on this mission. Personal interviews with your science staff will be conducted by me. I'll also be requesting to witness your research methods. My teammates will be reporting their own observations directly to me."

Sanaa played with her ring as she listened. A wedding ring, Chris noticed.

"How tidy, for everyone to be so clearly defined. I gather you're all tired. Outside my office, my secretary will distribute your passcards and assigned room numbers. If you're hungry, I'm afraid our chefs have clocked out for the evening, but the kitchen area is free to use. You'll be summoned tomorrow morning at 0800 hours to receive clearance for Sub Level 5."

Kenway couldn't wait to leave. She threw out a peace sign before she disappeared out the office door. "Later."

"Hej då," Zetterberg called as he followed.

When Chris rose next, Sanaa held out her palm. "Agent Redfield, a word?"

"Just one? Seems like we've exchanged a lot of them tonight."

"Do you have a family?"

The question caught him off guard. She didn't seem the type to care. "I have people in my life that I care about, if that's what you're asking."

Sanaa traced a finger around her ring again. Her voice was quieter now, softer. "I understand you have your suspicions. But endangering the planet is not something that interests me. I have no delusions of grandeur, no God complex, no thirst for blood. I want my children to grow up in a world without warfare, biological or otherwise. The last thing I'd ever want is another Raccoon City."

Chris shifted in his seat. He saw a semblance of something more than a calculating executive, if only for a moment. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Wilke. Considering that's the cause I've dedicated my life to."

"Oh, I've read all about your exploits. You've quite the heroic reputation. I can assure you that nothing quite as... dramatic... as your previous missions will occur here."

"You know what speaks louder than words." A wry smile. Chris couldn't help himself.

Sanaa didn't even blink. "Clever."

Adam looked up from his novel at the sound of someone approaching him.

"Dr. Mifune," a towering man in black fatigues said. "Derek Wheeler, Head of Security. Miss Wilke requested I escort you to your quarters."

Adam shook his hand and stared at him - all six-foot-plus of him, with broad shoulders and a torso that went on forever. Much like Chris Redfield, Derek looked more like a well-built actor or fitness model than anything else. But Derek's vibe was clean cut, with wavy blond hair kept short, no facial hair, and dark green eyes that were direct and present. Late 20s, maybe, younger than Chris and closer to Adam's age.

"Right this way, sir."

Derek took him to a bank of elevators within the atrium. Stepping inside, the security officer hit the button for Sub Level 2 and handed Adam an object. It was a plastic wafer - like a credit card but thicker. One side was clear while the other was embedded with microchips.

"Your personalized Avalon passcard," Derek explained. "That'll allow you access to your room. It'll be enabled for Sub Level 5 access tomorrow morning. Keep it safe and on your person at all times."

A metal clip was fastened to one end. Adam hooked it to a belt loop on his jeans. "Can I ask if you know what Avalon's hiding down there?"

Derek considered his words carefully. "I know what's appropriate for me to know."

There was a quiet chime and the elevator doors whispered open. Sub Level 2.

Adam stepped out and looked around with great interest. It reminded him of his university residence building, except bigger and considerably more lavish: a communal lounge with beautiful furniture, a fire place, a floor-to-ceiling 4K TV, and an impressive kitchen with serving stations and cafeteria-style seating.

He followed Derek through the common areas into a winding set of corridors.

"These are the staff dormitories. Your assigned room is 22A."

"Cool. How long have you been working here, Mr. Wheeler?"

"Only a few weeks."

"Ah. Good to know I'm not the only newbie."

They reached room 22A. Adam swiped his passcard over the reader and was rewarded with the welcoming click of the disengaged lock.

"May I help you with your bags, sir?"

"Please, call me Adam. Sir makes me sound like I should be wearing a monocle."

"Very well. If that makes you feel more comfortable."

"Appreciated." It almost made him laugh that Derek was completely unfazed by his - admittedly terrible - humor. "And thanks, I could use a hand."

Derek took the heaviest piece of luggage and gallantly stepped aside, allowing Adam to be the first to enter his new living space.

Adam was only two steps into the dark, unlit room when he sensed a figure already in there with him. A black shape in the shadows, turning around, becoming aware of his presence.

"Stand back!" Derek shouted as he rushed in with the momentum of a freight train and reached for something at his hip. It was all happening so fast - Adam thought he'd taken out a gun - but the object extended out with a fantastic locking noise. A retractable police baton. The figure advanced and Derek swung, hard and precise through the air like a knife. The figure ducked, expertly weaving around the attack, and then trapped Derek in an armlock.

"Wait, stop!" Adam cried. His hands blindly groped a nearby wall until he found a light switch. The ceiling light and a couple of lamps blinked on, illuminating a scene right out of some ridiculous action movie: Derek in a tense armlock with a perpetrator who wasn't some sinister monster, but a confused man wearing only boxer shorts.

Chris Redfield.

"Chris?!"

Derek shot Adam a confused look. "You know this guy?"

"He's one of the Blue Umbrella agents!"

"He's in his underwear," Derek said.

Chris, voice strained with effort: "Didn't realize getting ready for bed was a security violation."

Both men finally released each other but neither looked happy about it. The air was thick with adrenaline. It was like two mythical gods had just clashed.

"Chris," Adam's heart pounded in his chest, "What are you doing here?"

"Sanaa said that space was at a premium and that she had to double up some of the rooms. You're 22A, too?" Adam nodded. "Guess that makes you my roommate."

Derek glared at him. "You couldn't have announced yourself first?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you were the one who charged in and attacked me."

"I identified a threat to Doct- to Adam and acted accordingly."

"And who the hell are you to make that call?"

"Derek Wheeler. Head of Security. That's who I am."

"Is that Avalon Security's motto? Bludgeon first, ask questions later?"

Derek scanned the man in front of him. Even without his bulky uniform, Chris was physically intimidating, with strong legs and arms thick with muscles. His brawny chest, honed to perfection from what had to be countless hours at the gym, heaved in the ray of the ceiling light.

"Adam is considered a top-priority employee. I was being careful."

"Careful," Chris echoed, punching the word back at him. "I think you were just looking for a fight."

Jeez, Adam thought as he watched the tense exchange. Battle of the alpha males.

"Mr. Wheeler," he cut in nervously, "Thank you for helping me with my bags. I, uh, I can take it from here."

Derek retracted the baton and returned it to his hip. He pinned Chris with a fierce stare before returning to Adam. "You let me know if you need anything. Just hit the Security preset on your room's comms panel."

"Aye, aye," Adam said. Lamely.

As the door closed, Chris shook his head in disbelief. "One second I was getting a drink of water, next thing I know someone's trying to club me unconscious."

Adam sat on the nearest chair and massaged a burgeoning headache. He suddenly felt very tired. "Not the greatest first impression he could've made, I'll admit. I'm sorry about that. He was wrong."

"No apology necessary. Captain America was lucky it was me and not someone who didn't have the training to deflect his attack."

In the kitchenette, Chris poured himself a glass of water. Adam's eyes roamed over their shared space. There weren't separate bedrooms, only two cots and a television, and another door that opened into a bathroom. Cozy for one person, but for two people, it would definitely be... intimate.

Adam placed his bags on the unoccupied cot. "Hope you don't mind having a bunkmate."

Chris polished off his glass of water, shook his head. "When I was doing basic training I slept in a room barely bigger than this with eight men. I was the only man in the Air Force who didn't snore."

"You're a pilot?" Adam removed his sweater and started to undo his jeans. He figured it was useless to be modest around another man already in his underwear.

"I was. Didn't get along with my superiors, sorry to say. I quit the first chance I got."

Adam slipped on a pair of pajama pants over his briefs. His usual night attire. Chris sat on the cot across from him and stretched out his long legs. They were defined and lightly hairy, just like his chest. Adam tried not to stare.

"By the way," Chris said, "If Zetterberg calling you lillebror bothers you, I can tell him to stop."

"Oh, no, it's okay. He's just fooling around. And I've always wanted a big brother, to tell you the truth."

"They don't get bigger than Zetterberg. Only child, I take it?"

"Yeah. After my mom had me she was pretty much done. How about you?"

"Younger sister. Claire."

"What does she do?"

"Activism, mainly. She's an aid worker for TerraSave." Chris' expression warmed at the mention of her. "Feels weird, her having an actual career. She's still an annoying little brat in my eyes."

"She probably thinks the same about you."

Humor crinkled the corner of Chris' eyes. He had nice eyes, blue and bright in the soft glow of the room, warm when he wasn't in serious operative mode.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Chris asked.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep if I tell you how nervous I am. If what Sanaa and Avalon found is as incredible as they keep saying it is-"

"-then you'll be the one put in all the history books."

"Oh, great! That doesn't help with my potential insomnia."

"Give yourself some credit. Of all the archeologists in the world, Sanaa chose you to lead this expedition site."

Adam groaned, albeit playfully. "Now you're really not helping." He collapsed backward onto his cot. "You ever feel like you're in way over your head, even after you've agreed to do something?"

"More often than you'd think, man."

Adam and Chris stayed up a little while longer, discussing the day ahead of them, trading theories about what they would see on Sub Level 5. Their conversation eventually ebbed as they both grew sleepy, and then they wished each other goodnight.

Shortly after turning off their dorm's lights and slipping into their cots, Chris cleared his throat.

"Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens tomorrow, you don't need to be worried."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'll be there."

The words warmed Adam in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He held onto that feeling until sleep claimed him.