Matt nodded. “Fine, let’s do this and see what we have to play with.”
“Charging,” the lead tech said.
“How many shots can we get from this thing once it’s charged and ready?” Matt asked.
The lead tech shook his head. “It depends on the strength and duration of each shot, sir. If we shoot at maximum strength and maximum duration, then it could take as long as three minutes to recharge the array.”
“Jesus, Colonel,” Spalding interjected, “three minutes is a long damned time when you’re nose-to-nose with a vamp army.”
“I know.” Matt turned to him. “That’s why we’re testing this thing to see how strong the effect is at night. A daylight test might show us something, but it wouldn’t be the same as a true night time test.”
Spalding shook his head. “Let’s pray to God that a thunderstorm doesn’t roll in on the night they decide to attack.”
Matt shot him a go-to-hell look and ground his teeth. “Don’t even think it, Spanky.”
Spalding shot his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Sorry, sir.”
“Ready to fire, Colonel,” the lead tech said.
“Sensors online?” Matt asked again.
“Online and ready.”
“Array ready?”
“Charged and standing by.”
“Everybody has eyes and ears?” He donned his UV goggles as a flurry of activity in the center indicated the test was about to proceed. Spalding got on the radio and ordered everyone to make ready with the UV goggles. When all units reported ready he nodded to the colonel.
“The sun will come out…tomorrow…” Matt sang softly to himself. “Okay, do it!”
“Firing at sixty-five percent for forty-five seconds.” The lead tech pressed the enter key.
The night sky turned lighter outside, and even through the tinted goggles, Matt could tell that it was lighter than twilight through the blast windows. It was almost like a cloudy day. He smiled as he walked to the front of the bunker’s blast doors and stepped out into the artificial sunlight. He looked up and saw three miniature suns in the sky, like spotlights, their beams cutting through the night to cast a beam onto the area. He turned back to the lead technician. “Broadcast area?”
“Fifteen square miles, Colonel.”
Matt did some quick calculations in his head. “How high would you have to go to double that area?”
“Full power, sir,” came the shouted reply over the hum of the equipment. “And it would shorten our shot duration to about thirty-five seconds.”
Matt grimaced as he knew that wouldn’t be long enough to fry a vampire. They would be wounded, their flesh smoking and crisping, but not dead. It would take at least a full minute to kill a normal vampire and probably much longer for the Sicarii himself. “And how long to recharge afterward?”
The tech looked up from his consol. “Three minutes, sir.”
“Three…I thought it only took three minutes if we completely discharged the array?”
The tech removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “It will, Colonel,” he said. “As it stands, we can either focus the beam tighter and have a longer duration, or we widen it and have to increase the strength to get the same degree of damage.”
Spalding stepped in and asked, “So if we went to say, eighty percent and tightened the beam really tight, like say a couple hundred yards, it would be like a laser strike to the vamps? We could vaporize whatever we hit with it?”
The tech behind the keyboard scratched at his chin and nodded. “Oh yeah. With precision accuracy. It would pretty much instantly vaporize whatever it hit.”
Matt held up his hand. “Hold up a minute.” His mind raced. “You’re saying use it like a rifle? Focus this thing at high power and cut a swath through them?”
“Or like a sniper rifle, Colonel,” Spalding suggested. “Cut the head off the snake. Take out the leader and let the body wiggle around while the rest of us clean house.”
Matt nodded as he considered the possibility. “Possibly.” His mind was still thinking. “But I’d still rather use this as a WMD against the main body of the army. Max still wants to try to take this bastard alive, and I’m with him on that. If it means focusing the beam and cutting through them like a knife through butter, then so be it.” He turned to Spalding before stepping out of the operations center. “But I’ll certainly keep the sniper scenario in mind.”
9
Viktor and Rufus watched Max’s reaction as he looked over the drawings and examined the prototype of Dr. Peters’ weapon. Max became more animated the longer he examined the weapon prototype and finally turned with excitement to the trio who waited patiently for him to finish. “What is the effective range?”
Evan stepped forward and explained, “Preliminary tests have indicated that we can expect excellent results within fifty yards.” He picked up the prototype and pointed to the gas exchange valve. “The problem lies here. If we try to increase the range, the reducing valve tends to freeze up and the range is actually reduced to about thirty-five yards.”
Max nodded. “That’s pretty close in for a shooting weapon, but…I think we can make it work.” He scratched at his beard in thought. “He’s fast as hell, but if we reduce his fighting force enough and weaken him, someone with equally quick reflexes could stand a chance at hitting him with this.” He shot a quick glance to Thorn. “Are you feeling up to the task, sir?”
Thorn suddenly stood taller and bowed slightly at the ex-Captain of the Guard. “Oui, Monsieur, I believe I am.”
Max smiled knowingly at him. “Excellent.” He took the weapon from Dr. Peters and sighted down the barrel of it. “And we have enough silver for it?” He turned to Evan for confirmation, then corrected himself, “For the final version, I mean.”
“Yes, sir, we do. And I have the machine shop working on a rifled barrel for it to increase the accuracy as well. We should be able to test the final version day after tomorrow.”
Max shook his head at the sheer ingenuity of the design. “I love the design, Doctor.” He set the weapon on the bench gently. “Especially how the weighted balls eject these barbed spears to anchor into the subject.” He hefted one of the weighted balls and slammed it into the table and almost laughed as the perfectly smooth sphere shot out eight inch barbed spears in all directions, adhering it to the workbench. “A work of genius.”
Evan became flustered somewhat from the compliment, “Thank you sir, but it was a team effort, I assure you.”
Max turned to both vampires and all but yelled, “Excellent work, gentlemen! Excellent work!” He grabbed Viktor by the shoulder, “Come, Viktor, it is late and we have more work to do.”
Thorn and Dr. Peters watched as Max left with Viktor in tow. Rufus felt a pang that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He watched as Max and Viktor slowly closed the gap that had grown between the two over the years and allowed their relationship to heal. He wasn’t sure, but he felt a pain something akin to losing a son. “I’m not sure,” Evan quipped sarcastically, “but I think he likes it.”
Rufus turned and saw the much younger vampire smiling as he disassembled the prototype to prepare it for milling. He stared again at the door where the two wolves had departed and nodded. “I believe you are correct, Doctor,” he replied softly, his mind elsewhere. “Once again, your true genius has shown through.”
Evan paused from his work and studied Rufus a moment. “Is something wrong, Monsieur?”
Rufus was staring off into space, his mind busy with other thoughts and he allowed himself to be brought back to the here and now. “What? Oh, no. Of course not, nothing is wrong, Doctor,” Rufus lied. “I was just thinking.”
“Of?”
“Well, I suppose I’m just grateful that I let you deter me from convincing you to use the other weapon we discussed.” Rufus thought quickly.
“Ah. Well, this is a far less lethal option, and…” Evan was interrupted by Jack entering the lab with another operator in tow th
at Dr. Peters did not recognize.
“This is the new laboratory and our resident techno-genius, Dr. Peters,” Jack said as he walked in. “Doc, this is Major Sheridan from Team 1.”
The Major extended his hand and Evan set down his tools. “Nice to meet you, Major. May I also introduce Monsieur Thorn?” Evan indicated Rufus.
“Ah, you’re the vampire that gave us all the heads up about the attack, yes?” Sheridan shook his hand.
Rufus gave him a sideways look. “Actually, we prefer to be called ‘hemavores’, Major. Just as you humans are omnivores, we vampires are hemavores.” Rufus added a touch of hurt to his voice.
Sheridan bowed slightly to Rufus, “Please forgive me, sir. I meant no disrespect…”
Rufus chuckled, “No, please, Major, forgive me. It was simply a little joke. To…break the ice, if you will.”
Sheridan’s eyes widened as he realized he had been had. “Ah! A sense of humor, I have you now.” He pointed a finger at Rufus. “Well, since you are the first…hemavore that I’ve met, I’ll give you that one.” He shot him a wink.
Jack smirked at Rufus as he patted Sheridan on the back. “You’ll get used to them, buddy,” he teased. “The humor is a little dry, but their heart is in the right place.”
“Was there something in particular you were hoping to see, Chief?” Evan turned back to disassembling the prototype.
“I was really just showing Sherry around the joint, Doc,” he replied. “We just got through testing the birds and from what I’m hearing, it went pretty well.”
“Certainly could have lit things up a bit brighter, I do believe,” the major added.
“You do understand that it was only projecting ultraviolet light, right Major?” Rufus asked. “I’m sure that through your protective eyewear, it might have appeared a little brighter outside, but in reality, it wouldn’t have lit the darkness much at all.”
“Do tell?” Sheridan raised a brow. “I will admit, I didn’t attempt to take off my goggles while we were out there, but it did appear much brighter, just not daylight bright.”
“That is because daylight has all of the visible spectrums of light,” Evan explained. “Whereas ultraviolet is only one aspect of it. It also happens to be the aspect that vampires…er, hemavores are allergic to. Most nasty reaction, if I do say so.”
“That makes sense once you explain it.” Sheridan scratched at his chin.
“I detect a British accent, Major,” Thorn queried. “Are you from the Queen’s land?”
Sheridan snapped to attention. “Most certainly, sir. We are centered in Newcastle.”
Thorn nodded. “Beautiful country. Or, it was a few hundred years ago. I was born in Britannia, but was raised mostly in France.”
“Truly? From where did your family come?”
“Canterbury. It’s in the Southeast Region of—”
“I’m quite familiar with Canterbury!” Sheridan exclaimed, cutting him off. “I have a cousin who holidays there regularly.”
“The architecture is quite beautiful,” Thorn stated forlornly.
“I take it you haven’t returned in a while.”
“Non.” He shook his head. “I have not. It is too painful for me to return there.”
“I’m sorry.” Sheridan’s eyes met Thorns. “Should you ever decide to return, let me know. I’d be happy to act as an escort.”
Thorn simply nodded. Suddenly Sheridan’s eyes widened and he asked, “Are you to say you are of the Canterbury Thorns? The Baron’s bloodline?”
Thorn sighed as he smiled. “Oui, that would be my family.”
“Aha, and do they know of your…condition?”
“Non, they do not know I am even alive. Well, so to speak.” Thorn chuckled. “I removed myself to the south of France many centuries ago where I built my holdings before moving here to the New World.”
“And how are you liking it here in the colonies amongst the yanks?” Sheridan teased good naturedly.
“Quite well, actually. As you can see, I have had the good fortune to make some very valued friends.” He motioned to Jack.
“You need to watch that one,” Sheridan ribbed Rufus, “he cheats at poker.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
“Don’t believe a word he says, Rufus,” Jack interjected. “The only thing worse than a Brit soldier is a Brit officer!”
“Low blow, old boy,” Sheridan chided as they turned to leave. “It was very nice meeting you, Mister Thorn.”
“And you as well, Major.” Jack and Sherry departed the lab and left Rufus and Evan to their projects.
In the silence that followed afterward Evan spoke without looking up, “He seemed like a nice enough fellow.”
Rufus seemed deep in thought. “Perhaps,” he reflected softly. “but I think there may be more to Major Sheridan than meets the eye.”
*****
“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” McDonald yelled as he jumped to his feet. “I can’t believe this crap.” He swatted a pile of magazines off the table beside him.
“Settle down, James,” Roberts ordered. “This isn’t a debate.”
“That fucking full-bird got to you!” He pointed his finger at his captain.
“He proved to me that the threat was real and heading this way. He’s going to need our support and I gave him my word that we’d provide it.” Roberts’ voice was stern.
“You pussied out is what you did.” James plopped back down in his chair. “This is complete bullshit.”
“Are we professionals or not?” Roberts addressed all of his men. Most sat up and squared their shoulders.
James slumped deeper in his chair and shook his head slowly. “We used to be,” he muttered under his breath. “Now we’re a bunch of fucking sell-outs.”
“That’s all I’m going to take from you,” Roberts said authoritatively. “Either you straighten up and act as a professional or I’ll ship your ass out of here so fast and so hard, you won’t be able to get a job as a mall cop.” He stared directly at James. “Do you read me?”
McDonald shot daggers back at his duty captain, but sat up straight in his chair. “Yes, sir,” he replied sarcastically.
Roberts glared at him a moment longer then lowered his voice back to normal. “Okay, back to the topic. Now I know this is going to be extremely hard for some of you to accept, and I understand that,” he began again. “I didn’t want to believe it either until Colonel Mitchell showed me proof. Once he did, I have to tell you, it’s a paradigm shift that you don’t easily recover from.
“Very soon this base will be under attack. The attackers are not human.” Roberts paused a moment to allow his statement to soak in. “You heard me right. The attackers are NOT human. They are vampires.”
He allowed the men a moment and there was a general murmur throughout the room as some questioned what he said, some gasped, others smirked or made rude comments. He gathered their attention again, “Settle down so I can finish. I know you either don’t want to believe or refuse to believe, but I promise you, it’s true.”
“What are we supposed to do, Cap? Throw holy water on them?” one officer laughed.
“Doesn’t work, Miller,” he replied stoically. “I already asked.”
“Do we stake ‘em in the heart then?” another asked.
“Guys, guys, settle down. I’d love to stand up here and answer the hundreds of questions that I’m sure you could dream up, but the truth is I don’t have all the answers. The colonel is going to have his men train us in how to deal with them. They’ve been dealing with these...monsters for years. And they’ve dealt with a whole lot of others too. It’s what they do.”
“Bullshit,” James popped off. “He sold you a bill of goods.”
“No, it isn’t bullshit, McDonald. He showed me enough proof to convince me that the threat is real. And soon enough, you’ll all see that the threat is real, too, because we’ll be in the trenches right along with the special op guys fighting them.”
/> “And when the joke is over and we’re left standing there with our dicks in our hand? And all those special op guys are laughing at us? Then what?” McDonald hooked a leg over the arm of his chair.
“They won’t be.” Roberts could tell that McDonald’s comment had all of the men second guessing him now. They didn’t want to believe that monsters were real, much less that they were about to attack. “You’ll be starting your training soon enough. These guys don’t play, and they don’t mess around. Just ask Moore.”
“Yeah, they took him a fucking fruit basket after they busted him up and broke his arm.” James laughed. Roberts glared at him again but James refused to look him in the eye.
“The threat is real. The monsters are real. The operators on this base are real and they know how to deal with them,” Roberts reiterated. “They are willing to teach you how to deal with them in order to keep your sorry asses alive when you have to face them.” His eyes never left McDonald as he continued. “Those of you who decide not to partake of their knowledge probably won’t last long once the shit hits the fan.” He paused to allow that point to hit home. “I strongly suggest you take their training suggestions to heart.”
He looked each man in the room square in the eyes. “That’s all I have. You’re dismissed.” He watched the men file out of the room and as James stood to leave, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You and I are going to have a talk.”
“What did I do?” James asked, trying to appear innocent.
“You know exactly what you’ve done,” Roberts seethed. “It’s bad enough you want to try to go Rambo on a bunch of people who could tear you up like shredded wheat, but now you want to push my buttons after you’ve been warned not to?” he warned through gritted teeth. “Do you want to be transferred out of here?”
“What? From this glorious tropical paradise?” James shot back sarcastically. “Please. You need me too much to get rid of me.”
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