Dewey Sanders didn't come from a military academy or a high-end security firm. He was a product of Raccoon City’s South Precinct, a rough district where de-escalation was a survival skill. Growing up in a neighborhood where tension was the default state, Dewey learned that a well-timed joke could disarm a suspect faster than a service weapon. Before the badge, Dewey served as a military radio operator. He had an innate gift for electronics—he could strip and reassemble a long-range comms array in total darkness.

• The Recruitment: Captain Enrico Marini personally scouted Dewey. Enrico didn't just want a technician; he wanted someone with "street-level charisma" who could act as the glue for the diverse personalities of Bravo Team.
• The Professionalism: Though his jokes often grated on the more rigid members like Albert Wesker, Dewey’s proficiency was undeniable. He managed the complex encryption for the team's tactical networks, ensuring their signals remained secure from Umbrella’s prying eyes.

While they belonged to different teams (Bravo and Alpha), Dewey and Gelzer were inseparable. Their friendship was forged in the "peripheral" spaces of the R.P.D.—the garages and the tech labs.k

• The Realist and the Idealist: Gelzer (the one-eyed combat veteran) provided the shielding, while Dewey (the fast-talking optimist) provided the light. They had a long-standing tradition of betting on mission outcomes—usually for a six-pack of beer or a week of cleaning the transport vehicles.
• Shared Interests: Gelzer handled the heavy vehicles; Dewey handled the electronics inside them. Together, they were the "Mobile Support" of S.T.A.R.S., keeping the unit operational when they were miles away from the precinct.

| Time | Event | Dewey's Action | | --- | --- | --- | | July 23, 18:00 | The Final Smoke | Dewey and Gelzer share a cigarette outside the R.P.D. back entrance. Dewey hides his fear with humor. |

The sun was a dying ember over the R.P.D. garage. Dewey leaned against the transport truck, adjusting the heavy straps of his radio backpack. He looked at Gelzer, who was standing there like a statue of granite, his one good eye scanning the horizon and Taking a long drag of his cigarette.

"You think the brass is telling us everything, Gel? Those reports about the 'cannibal' hikers... the local kids are calling them 'The Forest People.' Sounds like something out of a bad horror flick."