Forest wasn’t born into a military family; he was born into a family of grease monkeys and speed freaks. Growing up in the Midwest, Forest and his younger sister, Elza, spent their childhoods in their father’s garage.

The Protector Role: Being nine years older, Forest was fiercely protective of Elza. While she inherited the family’s love for high-speed engines and motorcycles, Forest found his "speed" in the precision of mechanics and the steady pull of a trigger.

The Bond: They were each other’s anchors. When Elza started racing bikes, Forest was her primary mechanic. He taught her how to maintain her focus under pressure—a skill that would later save her life in the R.P.D. lobby.

Forest joined the United States Army shortly after high school. His motivation was two-fold:

1. Providing for Elza: With their parents struggling, the military offered a steady paycheck and a path to higher education for his sister.
2. Perfectionism: Forest had a "mechanical" brain. He was obsessed with how things worked—from computer code to the trajectory of a .308 round. The Army offered the ultimate test of that discipline.

He excelled as a Combat Engineer and Marksman. During his tours, he earned a reputation for being "full of life" even in the worst conditions. It was during joint training exercises that he first met a cocky Air Force pilot named Chris Redfield. The two bonded over their shared love of adrenaline and their mutual status as "the best shots in the room."

When the R.P.D. began recruiting for its elite Special Tactics and Rescue Service, Forest was at the top of the list.

• The Role: He was assigned to Bravo Team as the Cyber Security Supervisor and lead Marksman. He was the man who kept the team's data encrypted and their perimeters clear.
• The Rivalry: His friendly rivalry with Chris Redfield became legendary in the precinct. They turned every target practice into a high-stakes competition. Chris usually won by a hair, but Forest always claimed it was because he spent too much time fixing the team’s computers.
• The Tattoo: To celebrate their brotherhood, Forest got a golden sword with crimson wings tattooed on his left bicep—a symbol of the "winged" speed of the Speyers and the "sharp" edge of the Army.

The Quartet: Along with Joseph Frost, Forest, Chris and Roy were the "Terrors of Raccoon City" on Friday nights, their laughter echoing through the suburbs as they tore around on motorcycles, a trio of brothers who felt invincible.

Now in the quiet station in the R.P.D. Target Range June 1996.

The air in the basement of the R.P.D. was cool and smelled of cordite and burnt paper. This was Forest's sanctuary. While the rest of the precinct was buzzing with bureaucratic nonsense and Chief Irons' shifting moods, Forest was in his own world of math and steel. He stood in the fourth lane, his customized M1911 held in a rock-steady grip. His focus was absolute. On the lane next to him, a series of tight groupings from Chris Redfield’s morning session still hung on the wire—a silent challenge.

Forest took a breath, holding it at the bottom of the exhale. He squeezed.

Crack. The slide cycled with a mechanical snap. The red dot on the target ahead vanished, replaced by a perfectly centered hole. He didn't wait.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Four more rounds followed, all passing through the same jagged circle of shredded paper. A smirk crossed his face—the confident, "full of life" grin that Elza used to mimic. He lowered the weapon, the barrel smoking slightly in the dim light. He thought of Chris’s boastful laugh at the bar the night before about his superior "Alpha Team training."

Forest muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the ventilation system.

"Take that, Chris! Let's see you do that while debugging a firewall."