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Rather than endure a commercial, Isaacs muted the television. He wondered if the grounding of airplanes would succeed and if it would make any difference.

His intercom buzzed, and his assistant Alissa’s voice came on. “Dr. Isaacs, Chairman Wesker on line two for you.”

That surprised Isaacs. Wesker rarely made person-to-person calls. His stock in trade had always been the terse memo, the scathing e-mail. His verbal interactions were usually only in large meetings.

He picked up the phone on his desk and touched the pad marked 2. “Mr. Chairman.”

“Dr. Isaacs, I assume you’ve heard the latest news.”

“Yes, sir, and I already have a recommendation. I believe that we should prepare for the worst.”

“Explain.”

Isaacs took a breath. “The T-virus is spreading at an appalling rate. We have only a limited supply of the anti-virus, and at the rate the T-virus is propagating and mutating, I can’t guarantee that the anti-virus would even be one-hundred-percent effective. We have several underground bases around the globe, and I believe all of Umbrella’s resources should be pressed toward turning them into bunkers where our employees can survive.”

“Should our resources not be turned toward stopping the spread?”

“It would be a waste of time, Mr. Chairman. The virus will spread, and our efforts will serve only to cause us to lose more people like Doctors Cerota and Love.” For a moment, Isaacs almost shuddered. He’d seen plenty of death in his time, and it had never fazed him, but for some reason, the sight of Jaime Cerota putting the gun to her neck and shooting her own brains out rather than be infected by the T-virus had continued to haunt him.

He went on: “Instead, we should dedicate ourselves to survival. We have the finest minds and the deepest resources. We need to make use of those resources while they still have value and convert them to stockpiling food, medical supplies, and other equipment that will enable Umbrella to survive the coming apocalypse.”

There was a distressingly long pause on the other side of the line before Wesker finally spoke. “I agree. Several Committee members have expressed their displeasure with the notion of giving in to the worst-case scenario, but we are facing a crisis of biblical proportions. If the Four Horsemen are riding down on us, Dr. Isaacs, I prefer to stay out of their way.”

“Thank you, sir.” Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he put the finishing touches on his memo, then used the track ball to move the mouse to the SEND tab. “I’m e-mailing you a memo that details the very plan I just described to you.”

“Good. One other thing, Doctor.”

Isaacs didn’t like the tone in Wesker’s voice when he said that.

“Project Alice.”

Ah, yes. “What of it?”

“It seems to me that someone who has the T-virus and has, to use the current vernacular, made it her bitch is someone we should have under observation, yes?”

“I don’t disagree,” Isaacs said. “However, she is a difficult specimen to contain.”

“Perhaps, but she’s a difficult one to let loose. Ms. Abernathy has contacts in the U.S. Treasury Department from her time there, and Umbrella is coming under thescrutiny of the Secret Service. The White House being infected has mitigated the problem somewhat, but we cannot risk an investigation right now.”

“I consider it highly unlikely that such an investigation will be at the top of anyone’s list of priorities, Mr. Chairman.”

“Regardless, Dr. Isaacs, I would prefer that Ms. Abernathy be under Umbrella’s control. Bring her in. And if you can bring Dr. Ashford’s daughter as well, that would be a kindness. Feel free to dispose of their friends.”

“Of course, Mr. Chairman,” Isaacs said. “If there’s nothing else?”

“No. The end of days is come, Dr. Isaacs—let us prepare for it.”

With that, the chairman hung up.

Isaacs dialed Kayanan’s number. She’d been monitoring Alice whenever they’d been able to track her down. He said only three words:

“Bring her in.”

FOURTEEN

AFTER

As Isaacs prepared