Wesker knew how to be patient, despite the delay in response to his query. Whoever it was on the other end was seeking him out, and so he could wait a few moments for whoever it was to work up the courage to speak. When the familiar voice broke the silence, it wasn't at all what he expected.
"HUNK," he replied simply, acknowledging that he recognized the man's voice within only those few words. It had been some time since he'd heard it, but it wasn't a voice one readily forgot.
"Still working as Spencer's personal lapdog, I see." The comment was a bit crude and intended to rile, though Wesker was quite certain his desired effect would fall short.
Thinking back, he was quite certain that he'd never seen HUNK rile, not even when provoked. The man was more reserved than even Wesker himself, and if there were emotions somewhere beneath that façade of stone, Wesker had yet to see them truly piqued. Certainly he'd seen shadows of reaction, but nothing concrete - only mechanical efficiency and the here-and-there of surprise, but even that had always been muted.