by David Lee
“Where might that be?”
Without another word, she handed him a diagram of the city with red x’s marking a trail from the Underground controlled by Oliver out into the suburbs. He studied it and after a moment said, “He is correct; we really must do something about him.”
“They will concentrate their forces in this area, to ambush you.”
“So we will go elsewhere.
“No, you will go to here,” Prunella tapped her fingernail on the map, “and forewarned, you can kill Arabella.”
Jason studied the map and, almost as an afterthought, said, “Yes, with Petru gone and Arabella eliminated, only the Captain of the Guard would remain to protect the Queen. What about her?”
“Her, you don’t have to worry about, so long as you do your part.”
“My part seems always to be the dangerous part,” said Jason, adjusting the rear view mirror to a different angle.
“What’s the matter,” Prunella asked, looking about.
“I keep seeing things.” Jason unlocked the doors and they simultaneously popped out of the car and flashed to the sides. Nothing moved and there was no one lurking about. A rustling came from the dense stand of prickly canes. “There’s something in there,” she laughed, “go ahead.”
Jason grimly poked about for a moment. There was no possibility that a Human or a Vampire could penetrate the thick thorny stand. “Something is eating the berries,” was all he said, as they returned to the warmth of the car.
“When this is over there is no telling who will be in charge and what they will be in charge of,” said Prunella, staring out the windshield at the light mist drizzling down.
Jason said nothing, suddenly absorbed in the drops accumulating on his windshield like it was a new phenomenon.
“There should be enough room for two I’d think.”
“Two, you say,” was his response.
“That’s right,” she replied, turning to look into his eyes, “just two.”
“Right now I count at least five,” he replied watching the stand of wild blackberries. Holding his hand between them he listed them, “me, you, Arabella, Oliver and her Highness your Queen.”
“We need to start whittling the list down.”
“Agreed,” said Jason, “we start with Arabella. You get her there, we’ll take her out.
“While you’re at it, be sure and get her Humans.”
Jason laughed and unlocked the doors, “Off you go, I’ve a trap to plan.”
CHAPTER 32
Again in the tunnel she crouched, trying to keep the muck from ruining her boots. She was growing sick of the cramped spaces, the musty dirty smells, the incessant dripping. Long hours and days of trench warfare, the constant bickering with Prunella over tactics had worn her down. Not since she was a girl in France had she lived such a complicated, dirty existence. She found herself secretly longing for a return to her life as a freelance assassin, free to live where she chose, no more meetings, no complaining Vampires.
Watching the tunnel, she wondered if she could extract Jesse from his life and reinvent herself somewhere to be a housewife as he grew old. Of course, the places she could land were limited, no major cities, hell not even minor cities, and no foreign countries except the crazy places where no one wanted to live. It would have to be somewhere Jesse could be happy; he would live for another forty or fifty years and she couldn’t see him sitting in the mountains of Idaho for that long. It wouldn’t affect her; she’d just put the rest of her life on hold, pay the bills through her surrogates, then pick up her life after he was gone.
Thinking it through was depressing. She didn’t know if it was because of the sewage she was standing in or the thought of hiding for decades, but she was not happy. Somehow, she had to end this dispute in a way that left her a way out, and the only ending she could see was ending Oliver and perhaps, if Malloy was right, Prunella. No matter how she turned it sitting in the dark, dank tunnels with nowhere to go, she was here to the end. If the end went against the Queen, she’d be lucky to get out with Jesse.
She’d taken to dressing even more extravagantly than normal, perhaps a reaction to her fading life. She was the only Vampire she knew who missed the day, missed the light and craved the sun. Always in her travels and in her life she’d forced herself to experience the light every day. Even in the times when she’d been injured and forced to sleep in the dirt to aid recovery, she’d returned as soon as possible to the sun, experiencing the pain as skin burned and eyes felt filled with sand until her continued efforts forced adaptation and remnants of her Human self emerged.
Today she, like all the forces, wore all black, the better to sink into the background. Her only concession to fashion was the Chanel boots with the perfectly tapered 5 inch heel she’d tucked her leggings into.
Checking quickly, she saw Jesse in his accustomed place guarding her behind. Laughing to herself, she drew the ire of Prunella and her guards all poised to strike the decisive blow if the damn rebels would just show up, as Malloy predicted.
She’d set up her group in a classic ambush, choosing the kill zone with care. Arranging the team in the L ambush fitted perfectly with the terrain. The wall to one side of the tunnel was eroded, creating an unseen swale where the attack team could conceal itself. The passageway bent ninety degrees around an old drainage culvert, providing a natural stop and spot where the base of the L, equipped with heavy weapons, could conceal and enfilade the enemy. A squad of fighters hidden farther down the tunnel would prevent retreat and escape. First the base would open fire, all thoughts of proper Vampire battle long gone, stunning as many as possible, then the long side would drop down, administering the coup de grace and dispatching any not injured in the initial volley.
Prunella was at the base, as far away as she could put her and still keep her at the ambush. After nominating Arabella to lead the force, Prunella had then lobbied to be included on the team. Finally, the Queen suggested that she be included, so there she was. Arabella wondered at her game and placed her in a spot of least exposure discreetly watched by trusted Vampires. Still, she was disturbed about the politics and couldn’t reconcile why, with Prunella’s ambitions, she had nominated her to lead the company.
Settling down to wait, Arabella leaned against the rough dirt wall. Suddenly, without warning, the forward elements of the rebel force appeared in the kill box. She wondered where the forward scouts were and why they hadn’t signaled the approach. The rebels came on and it was apparent that Malloy was right, they were out in force. The only thing that could go wrong was if one of her people jumped the gun before the entire rebel group was in the box. Checking again on Jesse, she saw that he was focused on the intruders and awaiting the attack signal. She would keep him behind her, safe while she dispatched the enemy. At any moment, Prunella’s team would open fire and the battle would begin.
A loud clamor came from behind Prunella’s group and in that instant Arabella knew something was drastically wrong. The rebels turned and stormed toward Arabella’s position, obviously aware of their presence. A rebel group engulfed the base of the L, destroying her Vampires, continuing to attack up the corridor. Directing those to her left to stop their advance, she saw Prunella at the rebels’ head decapitating one of her Vampires. She realized too late that the rebels had flipped the ambush and she and her Vampires were the ones in the box.
The only way forward was to preserve cohesion and fight their way out. It appeared that all the rebels were in the tunnel now and, if she pushed, perhaps they could flank them on the other end and escape up the tunnel. Turning to sound retreat, she saw Jesse join the group fighting Prunella’s advance. The group would provide the cover necessary for her to escape, but she couldn’t abandon Jesse so, dropping to the floor of the tunnel, she went toward Jesse just as Prunella, flashing forward, grabbed him around his neck and hoisted him over her head above the battle swirling around her.
“Arabella,” screamed Prunella, “I have your Human.”
Arabella stopped and placed her favorite sword carefully on the ground then, standing, held her hands palm up. Behind her, the battle continued unaware. Prunella barked to her followers to seize Arabella, all the while shaking Jesse like a doll so that Arabella thought his neck might snap. As a rebel moved forward, Arabella took one quick step and launched a front kick. Her hop step raised her high enough that she could drive the pointed heel of her boot into the center of Prunella’s forehead. Her boot maker had inlaid a bit of silver into the heel taps so that the spike ignited Prunella’s brain like a Roman candle, shooting balls of flaming brain jelly down the corridor.
Both sides temporarily suspended combat while they dodged the napalm-like projectiles bouncing from the walls and ceilings. One rebel, caught unawares, turned into a careening fiery blob, instantly igniting. He ran down the tunnel like a Vampire torch, setting fire to friend and foe alike till the tunnel was filled with flame and smoke and burning Vampires, making navigation impossible. Driven back with the others to escape the confusion and flames, Arabella rallied the remaining members of her company, pointing them toward the other end where they could escape.
Arabella had one thought: to save Jesse from the chaotic conditions of the tunnel. Scooping her katana from the ground she hacked at the Vampires blocking her way, fighting to where he lay crumpled on the ground. Pushing her way forward when she could, hacking a passage when she must, she closed on the end where the rebels had appeared, surprising the ambush. Jesse was no longer on the floor and she hoped he’d managed to crawl off in the pandemonium.
Reaching the end of the corridor at the drainage culvert, a team of rebels confronted her, barring her passage. These seemed fresh, not involved in the main fighting. Raising her katana she advanced, slashing quickly to push them back. Their numbers hindered them in the close passage as they clumped together, unable to avoid her. Coming around the culvert, she recognized Jason’s blond hair fleeing down the tunnel with Jesse slung over his shoulder.
CHAPTER 33
There was nothing to it but the wait. After the debacle in the tunnel, the Queen invited her to attend a formal reception congratulating her on exposing the traitorous Prunella. Malloy was there wearing a tuxedo, waiting in attendance like a member of the Court or, more accurately, she was beginning to see, the head of Intelligence. Seeing him, the pieces fell into place and she knew she’d been a player on the board, manipulated and used in their scheme that was as much about cleaning out the traitors inside as Oliver outside.
Standing on the rug listening to the Queen prattle on, she wondered if Oliver’s escape was a cog in the wheel of a bigger plan, a scheme she could barely glimpse. She didn’t really care, the only thing she wanted was to go after Oliver and find Jesse, either find him or settle the score. The Queen concluded her remarks with a suggestion that Arabella take a well-earned vacation, perhaps travel, maybe a visit to the other Clans in these troubled times to demonstrate that all was well in the Northwest.
All the Vampires in attendance politely clapped their hands, no doubt relieved at the news she would be leaving the City for a while. Arabella opened her mouth to ask about Oliver and the remnants of the rebellion and, most important to her at least, about Jesse. Malloy, astute as ever, rose to his feet and escorted her from the room and down the stairs before she could voice her concerns.
“Not now,” was all he said when she demanded an explanation.
“Alright, when,” she’d replied, as he guided her out the front door and into his car parked, she noticed, so that he could exit the grounds without delay. For a brief moment, she thought this might be her last ride, that Malloy might be delivering her to her death. Noticing her distress, Malloy calmly said, “Relax, I wanted to get you out of there before you did something rash.” He said nothing on the drive down Queen Anne and across Western. Ignoring the No Parking signs, he put the Crown Vic in front of her building and hopped out, suggesting, “Let’s talk.”
It wasn’t much of a conversation; Malloy talked, she listened. When it was over she was on the sidewalk watching the Crown Vic roll off. She understood that she wasn’t needed any longer, that she wasn’t being banished but that her services weren’t required at the moment. Handing her a one way ticket, Malloy recommended a suite at the Grosvenor London hotel, telling her that it was all taken care of and mentioning that an envelope would be at the desk to cover miscellaneous expenses.
She went up to her apartment to wait. It was a familiar wait, some would call it hiding and it was. She didn’t need the Queen messing about in her plans, interfering in furtherance of her and Malloy’s schemes. Their plans meant nothing to her except how they would affect her. Twice someone, Vampires both times, knocked at her door and she ignored it both times. Checking on her they were.
The Big Indian had supplied her a double, a beauty with long black hair from his home. Dressed from her closet, she looked enough like her to travel on her passport. The only good thing about airport security is that it prevented watchers from entering the terminal and following the double to the gate. Arabella spotted the watchers at the curb as the car dropped her at Tom Bradley. She admired her outfit and thought for a moment it might look better on her, and decided to gift her with a wardrobe when this was over. In London, she checked into the hotel, buried herself in the suite ordering room service, venturing out at night for solitary walks through London fog and drizzle. Arabella settled in, confident that no one with the Queen knew she was in Seattle.
Through it all she waited, watching the ebb and flow of light and darkness across the downtown towers until her cell phone rang with Jesse’s number and she knew that she’d waited them out.
Stepping from her apartment door she rode down her private elevator and, veering through the Chinese room, once more admired the Indian heads overlooking the lobby. Henry, the ancient elevator operator, reached out and, for the first time in their long anonymous relationship, touched her as she passed by. “Have a pleasant evening,” he said in his professional voice.
He had chosen well, had Oliver. Always the clever tactician, the invitation directed her to an abandoned section of the Underground untraveled by the People of the Night. Score one for Oliver, she thought; familiarity with the terrain would be his. So long as there was room to freely swing her sword, she was content to allow him, even encourage him, to be comfortable in his choices. No doubt he was even now memorizing the land, plotting the distance between obstacles, preparing those silly traps he so adored so that, when she waltzed into his labyrinth, hidden accomplices would spring out, trapping her as prelude to another of his melodramatic, boring monologues.
As she stepped onto 2nd Avenue a bored Vampire loitering across the street jerked to attention and stared, his mouth open at her. Crossing the street she marveled at his frenzied attempt to pull a cellphone from the front pocket of his stylish jeans. Walking up to him she seized his phone saying, “Go home.” She broke the phone in her hands, handing him the parts. He gaped at her, unsure of what to do. “I don’t want to hurt you so leave.” After a moment he did and she continued up the street to the address she’d been given.
Under ordinary circumstances, if this were her normal assassination, she would, of course, pay more attention to the details and dance with dear Oliver in the intricate maneuvers of death. But Oliver had changed the game when Jason grabbed Jesse. On the phone, he’d let slip that he couldn’t abide Jesse alive.
Whatever else, if you listened long enough, Oliver could be counted on to fire every synapse in his brain and, if you could withstand the mind numbing boredom of him, eventually he would let slip what he really wanted even, and especially, if he did not yet know it himself. And, what he really wanted was to hurt her as de
eply as possible, to make her suffer for his suffering, to prove he was superior, to show her that rejecting him all those years ago was a mistake.
To do that he needed her alive, a spectator to his perverse production while he killed anyone and everyone she cared about. He had it all planned out, probably public, symbolic, freighted with ritual so the execution would have some secret meaning known only to him. Except the execution would not be hers, it would be Jesse’s, and that she would not allow. The good news was that he’d kept Jesse alive; all the rest of it was bad news.
The message provided directions to an unfamiliar building’s basement that accessed a forgotten utility vault connected to forgotten tunnels. Of course, she had registered a pro forma objection to his choice of site, not to have done so would have been suspicious, then acquiesced after some minor argument, accepting his need for privacy and fear of the Queen’s forces rationale.
Both were to come alone and unarmed; she’d agreed to his stipulation. The .45 was held tight against her waist by the leather pants, a bit of tape holding it snug. The swords were another problem; the short sword she could hide inside her jacket, handy when needed, but the long sword at forty inches could not be hidden.
She felt them flitting along behind her, the huge tattooed Vampire and the ponytailed Indian. Both so striking that when they wanted to be seen you’d think a parade was passing, the way people lined up to gawk.
They’d been difficult to control during waiting time. Their solution, simple and attractive, involved violence, lots of it, applied directly. She liked it and in different circumstances would have happily led them to the source of the problem. But, kicking down the front door and killing everyone behind it would result in Jesse’s death. So Ismaeli and the Indian waited and watched, watched the Queen’s Vampires watch her building, watched as Oliver’s boys watched the exits, creeping by at night up from the sewers.