As terrible and disheartening as the destruction to Rockfort, Alfred couldn't deny that he enjoyed putting down a few of his subordinates on the way to the training facility's main control room. He'd had no idea how gratifying it could be to see them sick and dying, reaching for him in hunger -- the same men who'd sneered at him behind his back, who'd called him abnor-mal, who had pretended allegiance with their fingers crossed -- and then expiring by his hand. There were listening devices and hidden cameras throughout the compound, installed by his own paranoid father, a hidden monitor room in the private residence; Alfred had known all along that he wasn't liked, that the Umbrella employees feared but didn't respect him as he deserved.

And now…

…

…

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