by S. L. Eaves
“What do you want?”
“Right to the point. I like it. It’s Lori, right? May I call you Lori?”
“How do you know who I am?”
“And what you are, don’t forget that. We know your kind exists, Lori. We’ve been trying to track you down. You or one of your…associates. You’ve proven to be an easier mark though, since you like to hunt alone these days.”
“That man I was hunting—he is one of yours, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He was a plant. He was using a shielding device that seems to be all the rage these days.”
“Bait.”
Damn it. I’ve been trying to track down whoever is selling these devices. I did not expect to find humans at the end of the trail. It never once occurred to me it could be government.
“Yes. We figured you’d ID him as an easy mark; we were counting on it.”
“Then you also know I’m trying to track down the creatures procuring those devices; I am not hunting humans…at least not intentionally.”
“We know.”
“And yet you still felt the need to capture me.”
“We brought you in, yes, but you’re not our capture; you are our guest. I just want a chance to explain my proposition. And I couldn’t see a way to do so that did not involve a great deal of risk. This seemed like an appropriate course of action.”
“Well, if I’m really a guest, perhaps you can unchain me?”
“What guarantee do I have that you will stay and hear me out about our little black box friends? And not kill me?”
“I’d consider it a gesture of good faith. One which I’ll be happy to return.”
His lips curl slightly when he forces an amused smile. Below the smile I catch a hint of fear. But to his credit, whether it’s his familiarity with the paranormal or the team of agents outside the door, he seems remarkably calm.
“All right, I’ll remove your restraints. If you do not like what I have to offer no one will use force to keep you here; you can leave of your own free will. Though I should warn you dawn is nearing.”
“Fair enough.”
The man calling himself Abrams had been leaning on the desk behind him, but at this he straightens and takes a key from his pocket. He kneels down cautiously and unlocks the padlocks around the shackles one by one until the tangle of chains falls to the ground. I stand slowly as not to raise alarm, kick them away, stretch, then return to my seat.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink? I’m afraid I don’t have your usual, but I do have a very good scotch.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
I watch as he pours one for himself, deliberately turning his back on me as if to test me or to show me he isn’t afraid. I’m not stupid, I know who has home field advantage here, and I’m not looking for more trouble. I have nothing to lose by hearing him out.
“So where were we? Oh yes, why you’re here.”
“How about we start with who you are, as it seems you already know quite a bit about me.”
He turns to me, sniffs his glass, and takes a swig.
“I’m with the DIA.”
“DIA?”
“Defense Intelligence Agency. Operating under the DoD. The Department—”
“—of Defense. Yeah, that one I’ve heard of. The government thing I put together. This room is exactly what I’d expect an FBI director or someone equally unimaginative to call their office.”
If he’s offended he doesn’t show it. He is not a man whose buttons are easily pushed. Instead he smiles, a disarmingly genuine smile.
“A vampire with a sense of humor; I like that.”
“You talk like someone who knows a lot of vampires.”
He shakes his head.
“Not personally, no, but I’m no stranger to your kind. I know about the wolves, too. You’re sitting in the room with one of maybe eight humans who know about Striden.”
“Knew.”
“Huh?”
“You knew Striden? As in past tense, or did that slip out?”
“Right, I knew of him rather. I assumed—we all assumed—he was in hiding. Can you confirm he’s dead?”
Last I saw of him he was hovering a few feet from a bomb. When it exploded the helicopter he was suspended from went down. We assumed he was dead. He was werewolf and had all the physical benefits of the species, but that doesn’t include immortality. And he was in human form when the explosion occurred, which didn’t work to his benefit either.
But we were too busy fleeing from the cops to hang around to sift through the rubble. I couldn’t imagine how anything mortal would have survived that blast. We barely did.
“…I never saw a body, but I believe it’s cats that have nine lives, not wolves… Wait, so when he developed the serum, you what—just sat back and accepted your fate? Did you have a plan for that?”
“Serum? I was referring to the arms dealings from overseas.”
“Oh. Well then, disregard that last comment. You know a handful of packs are still active, right? Perhaps your resources would be better served in the field hunting them.”
“What serum?”
“It’s since been destroyed. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“No doubt in matters concerning werewolves, we have a lot to thank you and your kind for. Dubious motives aside.”
I shrug.
“So, this black box—the invisible force field device—that’s your creation?”
He shakes his head.
“I wish. No, we are after the people behind the technology, same as you. But I can confirm, at least for the most part, they are people. Humans. Vampires or demons, what have you, they are not responsible for developing these devices.”
“Good to know. But then who is?”
“Ever hear of the Trion Group?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“They’re a private military company. One we’ve linked to terrorist organizations, both domestically and overseas. But I’m getting ahead of myself. What I want to point out is that we’re aware that your kind—or let’s just say beings we don’t classify as human—are getting their hands on these devices. Finding them useful for hunting. And it’s posing a great threat. Especially if more of these boxes get out there. Which brings me to why you’re here.”
He and I share the same concern. The problem he’s describing, it’s the reason I’m in the States. It’s why I’ve spent the past few months chasing down leads, following news stories, and intercepting police scanners looking for suspicious activity that fits the profile of these illusive killers.
Mind you, there has not been an influx of vampires running around at night with invisible shields, terrorizing humans and leaving a trail of bodies, but even one is too many. Our kind cannot be in the spotlight. It’s imperative to our survival that we stay off everyone’s respective radars.
I lean back in my seat, which proves to be fairly comfy once you remove the shackles.
“I’m listening.”
“We have a mutual enemy and while our resources are vast, yours are vaster.”
“Are you offering me a job, agent—what was it? Abrams?”
“I’m offering you an opportunity to serve both our best interests. I’m offering you support in the form of manpower and resources.”
I am trying to read Abrams, see past the suit and the bullshit that comes with it, maybe even pick up a vision. The control still isn’t there, but I have become pretty adept at picking up energies and this man is giving off some serious vibes. He is terrified of something, and it’s not me. He knows who’s behind the black boxes and he senses a real, certifiable threat against his kind. To look at him you would not think him easily rattled, but beneath the cool exterior is a shaking shadow of a man, an inner child pissing in his pants.
He took a big risk in bringing me in, exposing his organization. The protocols he must be breaking just to walk me through the door…there is something bigger at work here. And he is desperate.
>
“So this isn’t a paying gig then.”
Chapter 3
One Month Later
Tyler’s skin is hot to the touch; his heart beats strong and steady, his lips tastes sweet, his eyes full of life. He represents everything I crave from my old life. I can’t get enough, but it will have to be. There is too much work to be done. He holds me tight, kissing my ears and neck, then rolls onto his back. I sit up on the squeaky cot and pull one of his shirts over my head.
“Where will you go after this?”
“I don’t know. Home, maybe.”
“You got a crypt somewhere with your name on it?”
He laughs as he sits up and rubs my neck.
“I will miss your sense of humor.”
“Oh, I have a feeling you’ll miss more than that.” He blows on my neck.
I smile and turn for one more glimpse into his bright green eyes. I will miss them. I will miss everything about him. But we are just players in a much bigger game and what we are doing isn’t about us and it never will be.
“I think that’s cabin fever talking. When we leave here, you’ll be glad to have me in your rearview.”
“Nonsense; my life will be so boring without you to entertain me.”
“Now I know you’re lying. This has to be one of the most boring assignments you’ve worked.”
Tyler laughs, “True, it’s not been the most exhilarating. But every assignment of this nature requires a great deal of preparation. Are you saying this has just been to pass the time?”
“Hasn’t it?” I shrug and he gives a consenting nod. We both know all we are is the result of a being cooped up in a bunker in Alaska for a little over a week. Sure, the past nine days has felt more like a month, but still… One thing I have learned from our brief time as allies is that we work well together. And I would not object to working with him again should an opportunity present itself, but I doubt it will.
After I botched the drill in Atlanta a couple weeks ago, I’m surprised the DIA didn’t cut ties and call the whole thing off. I mean the mission wasn’t a complete loss, but it hadn’t gone nearly as smoothly as they’d hoped. I’m not good at following orders and I’m not used to having mortal lives in my hands, so combining the two and expecting a positive outcome is asking a lot.
Abrams made it pretty clear: my main objective is to keep them alive. They know the mission; they have years of experience running these operations. I just have to use my unique skill set to keep them free of bullets and stay out of their way while doing it.
“Well I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss you,” I offer, “but someone like me—well, we can’t exactly plan our future. It’s impossible. Today is all I ever see.”
“Is the ‘we’ you’re referring to back home?”
“Yeah, I guess. But it’s not a crypt.” I give him a playful shove.
“Where’s home?”
I pause at that. Not because I’d spent the first twenty-two years calling New York City home, but because the first place that comes to mind is the mansion in England. I wonder when I began accepting that as home.
He watches my hesitation with captive eyes.
“England.” I refrain from being more specific and he doesn’t pry further.
“Will you take me there?”
I start to gather up my clothes.
“You know I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t? Is it ‘cause the others will kill me?”
“No, it’s not that…well, let’s just say they are not as keen to associate with humans.”
“They approve of what you’re doing? You being here amongst us? Helping us?”
I smile. “Truth is, I don’t really care one way or the other. But what this is, why we’re here, is to benefit both our species. Way I see it, I don’t like to sit on the sidelines and let humans have all the fun.”
I lean over and kiss him, knowing it could be for the last time.
“I’m going to grab a shower.”
I am already down the hall when he calls after asking if I want company. I do, but I’ve already gotten too close and I need to clear my head.
Freshly showered and dressed to kill, literally, I proceed to our little makeshift conference room. The team, made up of five handpicked agents from—what I’m told—the most elite forces the nation has to offer, is gathered around blueprints and debating strategy. These men have ten or more years of intensive training and field experience. They’ve brought terrorists from around the globe to their knees. They have more blood on their hands than I do. And I, with my six years as a vampire being the sole asset I bring to this highly skilled collective, can’t help but feel inadequate. Granted, I had spent the majority of those years in the field getting what one might call lots of hands-on experience, but I still lack confidence in my ability to pull this mission off successfully.
To make matters worse, these men have thus far followed Abrams’s orders to the letter. In the time we’ve spent together inside this bunker in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness they have shown me nothing but respect. In circumstances when it would be easier to question my involvement, to distrust me for what I am, or even fear me—not that this group would be inclined to do so—they have treated me as an equal. I cannot even hold that much against them. Lethal gentlemen, the whole lot of them. Now I even find myself caring what happens to them.
Tyler pauses when I enter and gestures to the grid. The interactive map reacts as he slides his hand to the right and opens his fingers to zoom into one possible point of entry.
“This entrance seems like our best bet. Our surveillance shows only two guards patrol this side. We have not been able to identify a pattern in their patrol, but we expect this to be the weakest point on the exterior.”
“Is the plan to still go in through the air ducts?”
“Yes. There is one in the northeastern corner of the building we can enter.”
I sigh and study the map.
“It just seems off. I mean, climbing through air ducts…they catch us and it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Owen eyes me and then exchanges glances with Tyler.
“It’s out best option from this side,” he states after a moment of awkward silence. “May I?”
Owen gestures at the screen.
“By all means.”
He pulls up a map of the grounds and starts with the perimeter.
“As you know, they’ve got motion detectors, at least two layers that we’ve identified, a half a mile and quarter mile out. Our scanners also detected devices planted under the snow around the perimeter. Size and placement indicates landmines. While it’s highly unlikely in this snow, the option is some sort of snare or bear trap. Best we can figure is if they went to the trouble to plant them, we aren’t going to like what happens if we set them off.
“Cameras are everywhere around the perimeter. Cameras we can hack into, but it won’t buy us much time before they will realize that someone is in their system. Roof is covered with wires and heat sensors; it’s a goddamn electric grid. Doors, garage, windows…everything has guards, cameras, and alarms.
“Now if you prefer, we could come in guns blazing through the front door. The only reason that is not as ludicrous as it sounds is we don’t think they have more than fifteen to twenty guards. Our recon has not supplied us with sufficient evidence to believe they are heavily manned. Trucks are constantly coming and going. We believe most are shipping weapons, but some of the delivery trucks are carrying food and supplies. Given the volume we suspect it may be more than a handful of scientists and guards. It’s very likely there are more people in there than we have accounted for.”
“So we should be prepared in case those additional bodies are soldiers instead of scientists or doctors.” Tyler paces the room in frustration. “Since this is supposed to be a stealth mission we need to identify the optimal point of entry for sneaking in and out undetected. The guns blazing approach is too risky without knowing what we are up ag
ainst.”
Owen continues, “The compound is three stories, one above ground, two below. Roughly, about one hundred thousand square feet in all; three entrances and one cargo garage. Garage sees the most traffic, wheels and feet. And we do not have good intel on what’s inside. Infrared scans come back blurry thanks to electronic interference. Whoever is in there does not want anyone to discover what they are up to.”
Hearing the results of our collective surveillance does not help me as much as I’d hoped it would.
“Thank you for the perspective,” I say to Owen. “You’ve done more research than anyone here, so based on these findings your recommendation is the air duct on the northeast corner?”
“Yes. It seems the most logical. We can slip in, crawl through, and drop down the first opening, which we believe, based on the electric grid, will put us in a small room being used to store lab equipment or computers. It doesn’t seem to be a very active or highly patrolled part of the compound. I don’t expect we will encounter many men there.”
He taps the screen to indicate the room.
The men huddle around him and talk strategy once we’re inside. I can’t take my eyes off the blueprint. One door to the room. I do not like the looks of it. There’s something claustrophobic and condemning about the whole approach. I run my fingers across the screen, close my eyes, and try to force a vision. Nothing. Just foreboding darkness.
“It may well be the best way we can complete our objectives undetected,” Tyler adds.
“Yes.” I reluctantly acknowledge Owen’s plan as the best option. “Goal is to retrieve operational intel. We don’t just copy data, we get pictures and recordings if possible. DIA wants eyes inside reporting on what they are doing and how they’re doing it. That’s the extent of what our team has been tasked with, so I agree this seems like a weak point in their facility. Still, bringing six people in through an air duct inconspicuously? Into a facility this secure?”
“We’ve pulled off a lot trickier,” Evan states, stepping forward. “I think this is a smart move; we’ll get inside, gather intel, maybe even retrieve some samples of what they’ve been brewing in their labs, then leave without anyone ever firing a weapon. They’ll be none the wiser.”