September 22, 1998 – 8:20 PM, Eddie's Private Laboratory
"Yes," Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I've mapped the problem. I used some of Spencer's old research as a base. That old bastard is a ghost in every machine in this place." He turned toward her, dark eyes solemn. "And that's why we have to be careful. Not just of him."
He paused, letting the words linger in the sterile air.
"Annette, your husband is playing a game he can't win. He's dealing with the U.S. military behind Umbrella's back. You think Spencer doesn't know? You think he hasn't already prepared a countermove?"
Annette paled, though her face remained a mask of cold denial. "William knows what he's doing."
"Does he?" Eddie stepped closer, his voice lowering to a persuasive hiss. "Or is he so blinded by his G-Virus obsession that he doesn't see he's painting a target on his daughter's back? Sherry. That's her name, isn't it?"
The word hit like a slap. Annette recoiled a step, her composure cracking. She could see sincerity in Eddie's eyes—or at least a performance so flawless it was indistinguishable from truth. And that truth was a venom threading into her heart.
"Your genius surprises me, Eddie," she murmured, grasping at another subject, unable to hold his gaze. "At first… I doubted you." I wanted to kill you, she thought, shame flashing hot in her cheeks. She felt a traitor. Not to her husband. To her own logic.
"It doesn't matter," Eddie shrugged. "We're on the same side now."
Ding.
The sharp chime came from the synthesis unit. On the display, the word COMPLETED glowed green. Alex's serum was ready. A small vial, filled with luminous bluish liquid, slid into the collection tray.
Eddie's pulse quickened. It was done. But his gaze shifted—to another vial on a separate tray. A prototype. Amber, less refined. His serum.
He picked up Alex's vial, twirling it between his fingers. "No sense saving the queen," he muttered, "if the knight can't even stay on the board."
Annette understood instantly. "Eddie, no. That's madness. It's a gamble."
"Everything is a gamble," he replied, setting down Alex's vial and lifting his own. "The alternative is staying a pawn in Spencer's game. And I stopped being a pawn a long time ago."
"The consequences…" she began.
"I know them," he cut in, his voice hard as steel. "Uncontrolled mutation. Death. Or worse. But I believe in my research." He turned toward her, his face solemn with resolve. "I need your help. There's a containment chamber here with temperature control. I'll step inside. You monitor from outside. If something goes wrong—if I lose control—drop the temperature below zero. And trigger the knockout gas. Understood?"
Annette's eyes narrowed. "Why should I trust you? I could just let you mutate. Or put you down while you're vulnerable."
Eddie laughed, short and humorless. "Of course you could. But you won't." He stepped closer, gaze pinning her. "Because you and I are the same, Annette. We see the flaws in their designs. We want to build something better. I don't trust William Birkin's wife. I trust the scientist who knows my work is the next evolution."
It was a masterstroke of manipulation—an appeal to ego, intellect, frustration.
Annette pressed her lips into a thin line. "Fine," she said, her tone cold, professional. "I'll prep the protocol. Don't waste my faith in your science."
Minutes later, Eddie stood at the center of the glass containment chamber, bare to the waist, chest rising and falling in controlled rhythm. Beyond the glass, Annette sat at the console, her face lit by the monitors' glow.
Their eyes met. Eddie nodded once.
Without hesitation, he plunged the needle into his vein.
The amber serum coursed into his blood. At first, nothing. Then a heat spread from the injection site, a tingling that became an inferno. Pain ripped through him, cellular torture beyond imagination. Every fiber of his being torn apart and rebuilt the wrong way.
A strangled scream tore from his lips. His legs buckled. He collapsed to his knees, convulsions wracking his body.
Beyond the glass, Annette watched, impassive. Her fingers danced across the console.
Ssshhhhhh.
Dense white gas flooded the chamber. Eddie's eyes widened with agony one last time before darkness claimed him.
Annette leaned back in her chair, breath hissing through her teeth. On the monitor, Eddie's vitals spiked and plummeted in chaotic rhythm.
"Eddie, I hope you're not lying," she whispered into the silence. "If what you say is true, I'll stand by you. If not…"
Her hand slid open a drawer. She drew out a heavy Browning HP, laying it methodically beside her hand on the panel.
"Forgive me. I'm a selfish woman. I only care about my family."