I'm walking to my desk when it happens.  The alarm goes off.  We all know what that means.  I go to my locker and don my tactical vest, hip holster, gas mask, and helmet over my dark grey jumpsuit.  I put an extra magazine for my G36C into each of the six large clip pouches around the stomach area of my vest over the kevlar.  I then put an extra Mk23 magazine into each of the six small magazine pouches.  Each G36C magazine holds 30 5.56 mm rounds, and each Mk23 magazine holds 15 .45 caliber rounds.  I push a magazine into my rifle, cock it, and sling it on my back.  I then load my pistol, and put it into my hip holster.  I pull down my gasmask, and head into the dispatch room.  When I arrive, I find that only two other people are in there.  My name is Eric Jacobs.  I am 33 years old, and I am an Umbrella mercenary.  I was trained by the Army Rangers, and was honorably discharged after accidentally killing a civilian in the first Gulf War who was running with an empty Iraqi rebel's  gun in his hand.  A trophy, I suppose.  That's when Umbrella picked me up.  I still can see him in my nightmares.  The other two in the room are team member Pat Richardson, and team leader Rick Sampson.  I sit down and wait for the others to arrive...