"If the Hunter Beta didn't quite meet your expectations, may I suggest the Hunter Rogue, or 'R' for short?" I proposed, drawing attention to a new set of bio-organic weapons. The Hunter Rogue pack, smaller yet more fearsome-looking than the Hunter Alpha, emerged, ready to showcase their unique attributes.

"The Hunter Rogues operate mainly in a pack-like manner, each one strong enough to tear through infected and humans alike. However, they are much more susceptible to gunfire, making them a trade-off between quantity and quality. Despite being more vulnerable to small arms fire, they are cost-effective and deadly in numbers," I explained.

To further emphasize their capabilities, three convicts were presented with a multitude of firearms—a pistol, an SMG, and a rifle. They were promised freedom if they could successfully kill all twelve Hunter Rogues. The Alpha Hunter Rogue snarled, and the pack dispersed, each identifying its target. The convicts opened fire, attempting to eliminate the approaching threat.

The Hunter Rogues moved strategically, circling the convicts and disrupting their attempts to aim. However, the convicts failed to consider the ceiling, and one of the Hunter Rogues pounced on the convict with the rifle. What followed was a gruesome scene as the convicts were torn apart, leaving only chunks of bone and flesh. While some scientists excused themselves due to the brutality of the display, the military officers, veterans from World War 3, were slightly disturbed but not entirely sympathetic toward the fate of the convicts on death row.

"Now, there are quite a few variations of B.O.Ws beyond what I've shown you. Here's a catalog for the rest," I announced, gesturing to my Umbrella Guard, who began distributing tablets with the iconic Umbrella logo. "Everyone should know how to operate a tablet by now, it's 2055 already. If you swipe to the right, it will direct you to the catalog, and if you swipe to the left, you will find the cart where you can place your purchases. Before I forget, let me demonstrate the effects of the Inhibitor Vaccine."

A recently infected person, chosen within a two-week timeframe, was brought forward in a wheelchair by an Umbrella soldier accompanied by a scientist. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is a person infected by the Hydraxen Virus two weeks ago. I specifically selected this individual within this timeframe to showcase the maximum duration in which the Inhibitor Vaccine can save a person. Anything beyond the two-week timeframe is unfortunately lost," I explained.

I gestured to the scientist, who nodded and administered the inhibitor vaccine via syringe to the person's neck. "The Inhibitor Vaccine works instantly. The infected will slowly fall asleep and lay dormant. The next time the infected person wakes up, he or she will have a severe headache—a side effect from being turned and the Inhibitor Vaccine deactivating the Hydraxen Virus. Yes, you heard me right. The Inhibitor Vaccine deactivates the Hydraxen for a duration of two weeks as well. But don't worry; once administered by the Inhibitor Vaccine, if you aren't able to take the vaccine, you will experience a symptom I like to call 'The Harbinger's Gaze'—a telltale sign of metamorphosis. The person's vision will begin seeing a yellowish tint and occasionally convulse. It will continue for three days before turning," I explained, observing the CDC scientists taking notes, knowing they would test the Inhibitor Vaccine later on.

After making the demonstration and explaining the functionalities of the various B.O.Ws, discussions erupted among the military personnel, generals, and officers. They were engaged in animated conversations about how they could employ these bio-organic weapons in conjunction with their soldiers. The decision to purchase B.O.Ws ultimately rested with the President, but the prospect of acquiring such advanced weaponry for personal use certainly added more financial incentive.

As the deliberations unfolded, Leon approached me discreetly. "Sir, the President will see you now," he whispered. I acknowledged with a subtle nod, realizing that the President had vanished shortly after the exhibition of the Hunter R. I made my way through a heavily guarded corridor, flanked by military personnel and Secret Service agents. As we reached a specific point, the guards halted Leon and my Umbrella Guards.

"I'm sorry, sir, but from this point on, only you can go forward," one of the guards informed me. I gestured for Leon and his entourage to wait, and they assumed their positions with military precision. I continued walking toward a sizable door, which swung open under the watchful eyes of two Secret Service agents, granting me entry.

Inside the room, the air shifted from the dynamic energy of the exhibition to a space filled with authority and power. President Jasper occupied a large desk, surrounded by symbols of American authority, creating an atmosphere that resonated with control.

"Maxwell Sterling," President Jasper acknowledged with a nod as I entered. "Impressive showcase out there. I've seen the reports, but witnessing it in person is a different experience."

"Thank you, Mr. President. I believe in the potential of our B.O.Ws to bolster America's strength in these challenging times," I responded, maintaining a tone that balanced respect and confidence.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Let's cut to the chase, Sterling. What exactly are you aiming for with these B.O.Ws? How do you see them fitting into the future of our nation?"

I took a moment, carefully choosing my words. "Mr. President, my vision is to offer America a powerful defensive and offensive tool. The Hydraxen Virus poses a significant threat, and our B.O.Ws, along with the Inhibitor Vaccine, can be the key to securing our nation's safety. Beyond that, I see economic opportunities. Selling our advanced technology to friendly nations can solidify America's position as a global leader."

President Jasper studied me for a moment before responding. "You know, Maxwell, power can be a double-edged sword. How do I know your ambitions won't turn against us? What guarantees can you offer?"

"Mr. President, my allegiance is to the success and prosperity of America. The success of Umbrella is intertwined with the success of this nation. I have no interest in undermining the very foundation upon which my success is built. I am here to offer strength and stability, not chaos," I assured him, my words firm and convincing.

President Jasper leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Your proposal is bold, Sterling. But rest assured, decisions of this magnitude require careful consideration. We will be in touch."

Before leaving, I added a cryptic note, "Mr. President, it seems like not everyone in America is united," and slid a flash drive across the desk. "You can choose to burn it and destroy it, or you can choose to trust me. Either way, it's your choice. One thing's for sure the information in this flash drive will make or break the nation. Happy Holidays, Mr. President."

This remark raised President Jasper's eyebrow, leaving him with a sense of intrigue as I exited the room.

As the convoy made its way to the Umbrella Factory, a pristine blanket of snow covered the rooftops, and the festive glow of Christmas decorations adorned buildings. Despite the global pandemic, the resilient spirit of humanity found a way to celebrate Christmas.

"It's Christmas," Sophia exclaimed, prompting Louis to add, "Now that the little girl said it, it is indeed the 25th. We were too busy with survival and work to actually think of this. We should have the Corporation celebrate as well." Alisa chimed in, suggesting, "Presents? We should buy them once we finish with the inspections." Joe nodded in agreement.

The convoy came to a halt in the heart of Ivy City. The massive facility designed for mass production loomed ahead, heavily guarded by Umbrella Security personnel. Armed and vigilant, they were supplemented by sweepers strategically placed throughout the facility. Sweeper Hunters and USS forces, including the imposing Tyrants, were ready to confront any intruders.

Outside the gate, a man in a business suit adorned with the Umbrella badge, denoting the Plant Manager, awaited the arrival of the executives. The convoy stopped, and Alisa, Louis, Joe, and Sophia were greeted by Anthony and his entourage of security forces.

Stepping forward, the factory manager introduced himself, "My name is Anthony, the Plant Manager." Louis, now dressed in a colorful business attire, shook hands with Anthony and responded with a stern and professional demeanor, "Hello, Anthony. Good to meet you. I am Louis Anderson, Chief Human Resources Officer."

"Yes, sir. Right this way, please," Anthony gestured toward the entrance, leading the executives into the massive Umbrella facility for inspection.

Nikolai listened attentively as the USS captain relayed information about his daughter's location. Moscow's USS units were assisting in tracking Major Ekaterina Ivanova. As the information unfolded, Nikolai turned to the White Queen, "Pull up the files on Major Ekaterina. I need to know more about her, her assignments, and her connection to President Aleksei Volkov."

The White Queen responded by displaying a classified file on Major Ekaterina Ivanova:

Classified File: Major Ekaterina Ivanova

Background: Major Ekaterina Ivanova is a highly skilled and dedicated officer serving in the Russian military under the administration of the 5th Russian President, Aleksei Volkov. With a distinguished career in special operations and intelligence, Major Ivanova has earned a reputation for her strategic acumen, unwavering loyalty, and proficiency in covert operations.

Personal Details:

• Full Name: Major Ekaterina Ivanova
• Service Number: RUS-84723-MAJ
• Date of Birth: 15th March 1982
• Birthplace: Moscow, Russia
• Rank: Major
• Assignments: Special Operations Division, Russian Military Intelligence

Key Assignments:

• Operation Silent Shadow: Led a successful counter-terrorism operation to neutralize a high-profile extremist group operating in the Caucasus region.

• Project Aurora: Served as a key operative in a classified project focused on enhancing cyber warfare capabilities against foreign adversaries.

• Operation Phoenix Star: Coordinated intelligence efforts to expose and eliminate a network of foreign spies embedded within Russian government agencies.

Personal Life: Major Ivanova is known for her strict adherence to secrecy, but it has been discovered that she adopted a child named Yelena Sokolov. Yelena, unbeknownst to both Ekaterina and Yelena's biological father, Nikolai Sokolov, survived a classified nuclear incident in St. Petersburg and was raised in a secure fallout shelter.

Residence: Major Ivanova resides in a secure Mansion/Military Base hybrid located in the exclusive Serebryany Bor district in Moscow.

• Residence Address: 12 Silver Birch Lane, Serebryany Bor, Moscow, Russia

Security Measures:

• Perimeter Security: The mansion is surrounded by high walls, equipped with advanced surveillance systems, and patrolled by elite military personnel.

• Biometric Access: Access to critical areas is restricted through biometric verification, ensuring only authorized individuals can enter secure zones.

• Command Center: A state-of-the-art command center within the mansion allows Major Ivanova to coordinate military and intelligence operations seamlessly.

• Safe Room: In case of emergencies, a secure safe room equipped with communication devices and emergency supplies is readily accessible.

Connections to President Aleksei Volkov: Major Ivanova maintains a close professional relationship with President Aleksei Volkov, serving as a trusted advisor on matters of national security and military strategy.

The revelation hung in the air, a whispered secret echoing through the darkened corridors of Nikolai's mind. "Serebyany Bor," he muttered to himself, the weight of the words settling on his shoulders like an invisible burden. In the shadowy confines of the Military Base, he issued a decisive command to his units, the urgency cutting through the silent anticipation.

"All units, the target's mansion is in Serebyany Bor, 12 Silver Birch Lane," his voice resonated through the airwaves, each word laden with purpose.

Meanwhile, in a room bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, Yelena Sokolov sat doing her homework. The clock on the wall ticked away, the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. Unexpectedly, her phone rang, and she answered, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Hello." She answered.

The voice on the other end, a familiar yet distant echo from her past, whispered a term of endearment in Russian, "Зайка." It took a moment for the word to register, and when it did, Yelena's heart skipped a beat. "Papa? Is this you? Where are you?" A cascade of questions poured forth, a torrent of emotions she had long suppressed.

Nikolai's voice, a soothing balm to her longing, chuckled with a warmth she hadn't known for years. "Zayka, Papa is coming to get you, ok? I will answer your questions one by one later on, but for now, you must pack your things and move fast. You cannot trust Major Ekaterina anymore, nor her soldiers. She is keeping you hostage from me."

Yelena, standing now despite her questions, made a request that revealed the depth of her need. "Papa, can you open your camera? I want to see your face." A moment later, the screen illuminated with the image of a man in his fifties, a short boxed beard framing a face weathered by time but radiating an unmistakable paternal love. "Papa, I missed you," Yelena whispered, a tear of joy tracing its way down her cheek.

"Zayka, you need to move fast. Meet me by the Eastern Gate. A blackout will happen soon. I promise Papa will explain everything to you after we are safe, ok?" Nikolai's voice, a lifeline in the tumult of emotions, reassured her. Yelena nodded, her heart brimming with anticipation. "I'm going to cut off the call now. Ok? See you in a bit. Я тебя люблю." The connection severed, leaving Yelena's room charged with the weight of revelation and the promise of a reunion.

With a determined resolve, she began packing essentials into a backpack, her movements purposeful and swift. Every second counted, and Yelena felt the urgency to follow her father's instructions. The world outside her window seemed to hold its breath as she prepared to step into the unknown.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Serebryany Bor, Nikolai led the USS units with a silent determination. The cover of darkness became their ally as they approached the mansion on Silver Birch Lane. The urgency in Nikolai's voice reverberated through the radio waves as he directed his team, "All units, maintain radio silence. We need to move swiftly and quietly. Our target is the mansion on Silver Birch Lane in Serebryany Bor. Be prepared for potential hostiles, and remember, the safety of Yelena is our top priority."

The mansion, a bastion of both residence and military operation, sprawled across a vast expanse of land, fortified by four imposing gates and state-of-the-art security systems. Major Ekaterina Ivanova, caught in the intersection of familial ties and national duty, found herself in a precarious situation. A call from President Aleksei, his voice echoing through the satellite phone, issued a directive that carried weight, "Ekaterina, secure the girl."

"The girl? Yelena?" Ekaterina sought clarification, the confusion evident in her tone. President Aleksei's response left no room for ambiguity, "Yes, Yelena. Nikolai is coming for her, and I doubt once his daughter is in his hands, we can have the same leverage as we have now." The gravity of the situation settled over Ekaterina like a heavy cloak.

In the midst of this conversation, a report interrupted, a voice relaying urgent information, "Major, your niece is at the Eastern Gate. She is picking flowers at this time of night." The words hung in the air, creating a tense pause. Ekaterina, her mind grappling with the unfolding events, issued a swift command, her authoritative tone cutting through the mounting tension, "Escort her back to her quarters."

However, as if the threads of fate were tightening, the mansion was plunged into darkness, a blackout shrouding the entire facility. The sudden loss of power set off alarms in Ekaterina's mind. Before she could fully process the situation, a report crackled through the communication channels, "All units, move to the Eastern Gate. Hostiles inbound!" The urgency in Ekaterina's voice mirrored the escalating threat.

Amid the chaos at the Eastern Gate, the thick gates were forcefully knocked down, and from the enveloping darkness emerged a lethal force. In a matter of seconds, the USS operatives, led by Nikolai Sokolov, eliminated 57 guards with ruthless efficiency. The night became a canvas of silent but swift violence as bursts of silenced gunshots echoed through the air.

Nikolai, however, was met with an unexpected sight. His daughter, Yelena, was not free and running into his arms. Instead, she was held at gunpoint by a soldier named Mikhail. The tension in the air thickened as the guard towers illuminated the scene, and the USS vanished from sight.

"Comrade Sokolov, well met," Mikhail greeted, his tone laced with a combination of familiarity and disdain.

"Mikhail," Nikolai responded, his voice tinged with anger. "You're still alive, coward."

"No, Comrade Sokolov, I'm a survivor. You, on the other hand, are a disgrace. At that time, you had the perfect shot to kill the American President Reynolds, but you did not take the shot!" Mikhail accused, revealing a shared history between the two.

"If I took the shot, his daughter would also be shot," Nikolai explained, a glimpse into the moral complexity of his past actions.

"And? The Motherland would've won!" Mikhail argued, his loyalty to the cause overshadowing any concern for collateral damage.

"Do not speak to me as if you did not abandon your unit. You left us all to die!" Nikolai retorted, the bitterness of betrayal evident in his words.

"You know what? You can die now," Nikolai declared, and in that moment, a Licker attacked Mikhail from behind, its deadly tongue piercing his chest. As Mikhail grappled with the monstrous creature, Yelena ran to her father's embrace, the reunion marred by the shadows of their shared history and the fresh turmoil that surrounded them.

Nikolai stood over Mikhail's lifeless body, a bitter taste of contempt lingering on his lips. With disdain, he spat on Mikhail's lifeless form, his words cutting through the air, "Fucking coward. You ain't a survivor. You're a corpse now."

Yelena, witnessing the harsh reality of her father's world, felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew there was a history between Nikolai and Mikhail, a chapter filled with betrayal and unresolved conflict. However, she wisely chose to withhold her questions for a more opportune moment.

As Nikolai issued the command, "All units, retreat full speed to the airport," he turned to his daughter, addressing her with a softened tone, "Let's go, Zayka." The word "Zayka," a term of endearment, carried a semblance of warmth that contrasted with the cold surroundings. Yelena nodded, following her father as they began their swift retreat through the shadows of the night, leaving behind the echoes of a violent encounter and the remnants of a betrayed allegiance.