Chapter 86: Does Umbrella Corporation Have Your Last Name on It?!
In a dim conference room, Spencer sat at the center like something preserved rather than alive, his eyes sharp and fixed on the large screens in front of him.
One of them flared to life without warning, flooding the room with light.
On the screen, Vane Carter stared through the camera at Spencer with a dark expression. His chest rose and fell with the weight of his breathing. He looked like a man containing a great deal of rage by a narrow margin.
"Oswell Edward Spencer." Carter forced the words out through his teeth. "Well done."
Spencer had no idea yet what had happened. Confusion moved across his aged face.
"Mr. Carter. I'm not sure I follow."
"You don't follow." Carter gave a cold laugh. He picked up a report from the table in front of him and opened it.
"According to our investigation: the research base we established in Spain was destroyed several months ago. All experimental data and results were taken. Every person inside died. Not one survivor."
He looked up from the report.
"Would you care to guess who was responsible?"
He didn't wait for Spencer to answer. He threw the report down on the table.
"The director your company recently brought on board. The man you put in charge of your security division. Matthew Lawrence."
"You have to hand it to yourselves. Quite a talent you've found there."
"If a satellite hadn't happened to pass over that area at the right moment, we might never have traced it back."
He swiped a finger and Matthew's photograph appeared on screen alongside the logos of Stark Industries and Oscorp.
"And that's not all."
Carter continued: "My people have also established that Matthew Lawrence isn't simply working at your company. He has become a director at Stark Industries. And some months after that, he quietly moved on Oscorp, taking fifty-two percent of their shares without anyone noticing."
"Remarkable reach for a man you hired to run building security."
Spencer's expression changed.
Stark Industries. Oscorp. There were few people anywhere in the world who didn't know those names. One had been the world's largest arms exporter. The other had followed close behind, a defense contractor with ties to militaries across multiple continents. Either one, standing alone, was the equal of Umbrella Corporation.
And this young man had made himself a director at one and a controlling shareholder at the other, without drawing attention to either fact.
Spencer found himself genuinely uncertain how Matthew Lawrence had managed it.
Carter was not finished.
"I told you years ago. When Theodore Lawrence died, you should have seized his shares by force and cleaned out every person who knew anything about the arrangement." Carter's eyes narrowed. There was something in his voice that went beyond frustration.
Spencer raised a hand. "Vane. You didn't understand what that would have set in motion."
"When Theodore died, he left considerable safeguards behind. Eleanor Ross, the assistant he kept at his side for years, had been built into a loyal hound long before the end. Bred specifically to guard his assets and his only heir."
"If we had moved directly against his son and absorbed the shares, she would have burned everything available to her to come at us. Theodore's information would have gone to the Alliance. To the government. Every contact he had would have been put to use."
"Was a percentage of shares worth that risk?"
"And who knows how many loyal hounds Theodore left behind that we never identified."
"So you're saying he's easier to deal with now?" Carter's response came cold and immediate. He pressed forward without pause. "Based on what my people have found, his activities are anything but minor."
"After taking his post, he made himself popular. Ran charity work. Built up a public image on every surface you could see."
"Behind that, two thirds of his budget went into security personnel. The cleaning staff at his division earn thirty percent more than their counterparts at headquarters."
"His standing inside the security division has surpassed Theodore's at his peak. He says something and everyone moves."
"When you sent him to retrieve the G-Virus sample from Raccoon City, he came back and handed you incomplete, fragmentary research data."
"The personal bodyguard teams assigned to your other senior executives have been quietly cycled out under his management and replaced with his own people. If I hadn't caught it early and reversed it..."
Carter let the pause do the work.
"It wouldn't be long before he could say a single word and have both our heads displayed at the company entrance."
"Tell me something, Spencer." He put both hands flat on the table. "Does Umbrella Corporation have your last name on it?"
"We have been suppressing your rivals. Providing you cover and resources. All of it was so you could maintain full control of this company and give us the super-soldiers we came here for."
"Not so we could watch the organization we've invested in pass to someone else's hands."
He leaned back in his chair. His gaze moved over Spencer at length.
After roughly half a minute, he spoke again.
"Spencer. I'm genuinely beginning to wonder if you've simply gotten old."
"Too soft. No longer able to see the larger picture."
"If that's where things stand, I'd suggest stepping down soon and finding someone with a sharper mind to replace you."
He let a brief silence sit between them.
"In short. Remove him. Get full decision-making authority back in your hands."
"If you find you can't make that call, we will find someone who can. We are not letting our investment go to waste."
Carter ended the call.
The conference room went dark again.
Spencer let out a slow breath and pressed two fingers against his temples.
"Red Queen. Schedule a video conference with my teacher."
The Red Queen was Umbrella's internal AI.
Worth noting: it bore no resemblance to the version from the films, the small girl with the projected face and the cutting remarks. What Spencer had was the version from the game, Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles. A system built from data rather than personality. No emotions. No distinct appearance to speak of. Its primary function was protecting company secrets and assets. Its conversational capability was, by any honest measure, only marginally above a basic chatbot.
[Understood.]
Ten seconds passed.
[You have a new message.]
"Read it."
[Understood.]
[Miranda says: What is it? I have time right now.]
Spencer straightened slowly in his chair. "Connect me to my teacher. Video."
[Understood.]
The Red Queen's responses were crisp and mechanical, with nothing behind them suggesting a living mind. Spencer didn't need it to seem alive. It was a tool for protecting company property. Nothing more was required of it.
When the last response faded, the screen that had gone dark lit up again.
Miranda's face appeared. The face that had not changed in a hundred years.
***
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