Chris scratched his chin. Larry glanced at this friend.
"What is bothering you?" he asked.
"Could be nothing," Chris admitted. "This happens all the time."
David kept reading. "Apparently, they were surprised how forthcoming they were with this information. They believe that the queen could even be there."
Chris paused and he looked at his friend. "Where are they planning to strike?" he demanded.
"Um," David said as he continued to search the chat, "Outside of Canterbury, I believe."
Chris glared at David. "I need to know for certain."
"What is it Chris?" Larry asked.
Chris ignored Larry as he waited for David to reply.
"Yes, I am confident that it is Canterbury."
"When?" Chris pressed.
David was becoming irritated. "Take it easy."
Chris placed his hand on the back of David's chair and spun him around. He stared directly into his eyes. "I need to know," he said icily.
Nervously, David swallowed. "I…I…I think that they are planning to attack at midnight local time."
Chris snapped his head to look at Larry. "What time is it there now?"
Larry glanced at his watch. "About three in the afternoon. Chris what is going…"
Chris ignored Larry again and turned his attention back to David. "Use those magical computer skills to get us a flight out of here within the hour," Chris said before stomping his way towards the door.
"I…I…I don't think…"
"Make it happen," he said as he picked up his coat. "I don't care how or how much it costs. Get us to England."
"Where are you going?" Larry demanded.
"Where I need to," Chris said as he opened the door. "I will meet you at the airport."
The door closed and Larry glared at the door. He turned back to David who seethed with anger.
"How the fuck does he expect us to trust him when he acts just like them?" David asked.
"I don't understand it myself but he must know something. Get us those tickets," Larry said as he stood."
"Now where are you going?" David demanded.
Larry placed his hand on David's shoulder. "Unlike our moody friend, I am not going to vanish without an explanation. I am going to step into the bathroom to make some calls so I can hear them clearly and so also I don't distract you."
"About what?" David pressed.
"I expect that we aren't going to go see soccer matches so I am going to arrange for supplies to be brought to us," Larry said.
David nodded. "Sorry, I should have known," he said honestly.
"Don't mention it. Just get us that plane," Larry said as he removed his cell phone from his pocket.
"Understood," David said as he turned back to face his computer.
Larry dialed a number and placed the phone to his right ear. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. David could hear his muffled voice through the door. He began contacting their allies in the council. He specifically searched out those council members who worked for the various international airlines. However, his computer dinged again and another alert grabbed his attention.
He opened the alert and a chat opened. As he read, it immediately had his complete attention. It was a vampire code imbedded within their chat.
"Well what do we have here?" he asked.
Within minutes, he had joined their conversation.
CHAPTER 25
LONDON, ENGLAND
The next day…
Nestled in the southeast region of England, the City of Canterbury was affected by the recent stormy weather that had been hampering travel in the region. The city was converted to Christianity in the sixth century. St. Augustine was established as the first bishop in the city and thusly he became the first Archbishop of Canterbury. When the Church of England, under the direction of King Henry VIII during the English Reformation in the sixteenth century, broke away from the Catholic Church and the authority of the Pope, the Archbishop of Canterbury became its leader.
Since the mid-eighteenth century, Canterbury had been the official, but undocumented, world headquarters of the Council of the Light. Not only did religious leaders from virtually every known religious sect report to Canterbury for guidance regarding their actions against the undead, but military, government, and corporate leaders also reported to Canterbury. While everyday council affairs were held in the backrooms of small businesses or in family kitchens, the heart of the council had remained unchanged for centuries. On rare occasions, religious leaders were brought together to discuss major offensives against the vampires.
Unknown to the general populace or even the majority of the council, the Council of the Light headquarters was located in a bunker beneath the ancient structure known as Canterbury Cathedral. At over five hundred feet in length, the English Gothic building had stood for nearly a thousand years. When the Council of the Light took a growing interest in the American Revolutionary War, more and more meetings were held secretly in the underground offices of the ancient structure. As time passed, the council leaders voted that it become their official headquarters, but it would never be recorded in the council archives. The council, under the guise of major renovations to preserve of the building for future generations, had its headquarters built beneath the structure in 1834. Since that time, their main base of operations was secretly modernized and its level of sophistication rivaled that of the Vatican.
With intercepted vampire communications available for discussion, General Donald Scott had set up a video conference with his fellow members of the council. From the far reaches of the globe, the faces of Christians, Muslims, Hindus, filled a wall that was covered with various computer screens. The faces were youthful and elderly. They were male and female of various skin tones and races. However, they all had one thing in common: They were all stressed.
"Open all channels," General Scott ordered.
"At once, sir," Bishop Jordan Wallace stated.
Immediately, the room filled with chatter. The faces on all the screens began speaking. The din was inaudible except for the sparse word. Arguments broke out quickly. General Scott shook his head. His assistant turned to him. He gave a throat slashing signal. Bishop Wallace cut off all audio transmissions. The room became quiet, but the faces could still be seen frantically trying to state their point.
General Scott sighed. "Do I have to turn them back on?" he asked sarcastically.
Jordan Wallace chuckled. "Yes, you do." He chuckled again. "But I can send them a chat message which will tell them that they must wait their turn."
It was General Scott's turn to chuckle. "Will it do us any good?"
Jordan Wallace shrugged. "Probably not but it will make me feel better."
General Scott smiled. "Do it."
The middle-aged man, who had been trained by various council members in the workings of their computer systems, typed a command string into his keyboard. All eyes turned to the note that suddenly appeared on their screen. Several fists were raised and then they were shook at the screen. Several others rolled their eyes and folded their arms defiantly across their chests. Some, who decided that patience, was more appropriate than anger, waited calmly. Jordan typed another chat message and more members of the council leadership calmed. A final chat message calmed the nerves of the remainder of the group.
"What did you type that time?" General Scott asked.
Jordan smiled as he continued to type. "I assured them that their concerns would be addressed, but if they didn't calm down soon that I would create a priority list. If they continued to complain then they would placed at the bottom of the list and given our time constraints, their concerns might not be heard at all. After you give them your report, then I will turn on their ability to communicate in order based on their composure."
"Very well," General Scott said, "Open their channels to receive and I will address them all."
"Ready when you are, sir."
"Open."
Jordan entered a set of commands into his keyboard. The faces changed as they heard noise from the command center. Some shifted to hear their computers while others loaded translating programs. General Scott cleared his throat and all eyes stared at him except those few who were reading the subtitles at the bottom of their screen.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Council of the Light, our moment is at hand. Our electronic intelligence technicians have been monitoring vampire communications for months. Our techs have intercepted vital conversations between the vampire queen and a long suspected vampire nest in the area. I believe it is time to strike."
General Scott nodded and Jordan entered a command into his computer. Several screens which read had 'MUTE' were opened to all communications.
"The council recognizes our Islamic representative," General Scott said.
"Thank you, General," the man of Middle-Eastern decent stated.
"You have concerns, Mohammed?" General Scott asked.
"Yes, where is our vampire hunter? Our ranks need to be led by our best warriors. The queen is a formidable opponent who has foiled our plans for years."
"Centuries," General Scott corrected.
"Does it matter?" another representative with a French accent asked.
"No, of course, not," General Scott said. "Forgive me, my friend, please continue Mohammad."
"Thank you," he said. "I have read your briefing and the lack of leadership from Bloodheart worries me. Care to explain why you, and not Bloodheart, are leading this mission?"
General Scott cleared his throat. "I am of the opinion that Bloodheart has had his chance to stop the vampire queen and he has failed on several occasions."
"She is formidable," a Celtic woman said.
"I understand that but we cannot afford any more mistakes. She is becoming more and more powerful. Our chance is now and Bloodheart is not on the continent. We might not get a better chance," General Scott replied.
"In your report," Mohammad continued, "You said that you would detail your plan. Please do so to maybe put our minds at ease."
Virtually every head nodded. General Scott looked at each face before he spoke.
"I have personally read every transcript. The vampire nest is virtually defenseless. Reportedly, less than one hundred vampires are present and the queen will be visiting this evening," he said.
"A night attack when they are the most powerful?" the French Catholic leader asked.
"Unfortunately, a day attack where over fifteen hundred men and women are seen invading a homestead in the hills is going to draw unwanted attention from the various media outlets. A night attack, although it runs a much greater risk, will serve us better in the long run," General Scott said.
"What about our council members who control the media outlets?" the Celtic woman asked.
"We cannot control everyone in this age of digital communications," the French Catholic leader said.
General Scott nodded. "With a night attack, we can move under the cover of darkness and we can target specific media outlets to steer them away from the attack. Also, our technicians will be able to monitor internet traffic during the evening and plant several stories through our contacts to draw media attention away from that area."
"What do you mean?" Mohammed asked.
"He means," Jordan said, "That they will create stories to cover up anything that we can't control. If there are leaks, proper cover stories will be run in their place. It won't be the first time that we have helped them create the news."
Heads nodded again. Some faces were grim with concern. Before more questions were raised, General Scott began to speak.
"Due to time constraints, I have been only able to obtain fifteen hundred warriors. Amongst those warriors, I have recruited the ancient group that was originally assigned to serve with Bloodheart during the American Revolutionary War. His training techniques and battle tactics have been passed down through generations. I am more than confident that they will be able to handle this mission."
"Will fifteen hundred warriors be enough?" a Buddhist member asked.
"I am confident that fifteen hundred of our warriors can defeat a hundred or less vampires," General Scott answered. "With the vast number of our warriors traveling across Europe to stop the growing number of vampire nests, there is not enough time to obtain more."
"But if we contact Bloodheart, he could be there in less than a day," the Buddhist member added.
"And they will have time to fortify," General Scott retorted, "And more importantly, the location of the queen could once again become a mystery."
An African man raised his hand. General Scott acknowledged him.
"The council recognizes the representative from Africa…"
"You have not addressed the question of why you are leading the mission," the man stated before General Scott could properly introduce him.
General Scott stood tall. "This mission needs a leader and I am the highest ranking and best trained warrior available."
"Or is it that you want the glory of destroying the queen for yourself to cement your place in council history?" the Celtic woman asked.
General Scott looked directly at her. "Ella, personal vendettas have no place in this forum. I have stated our reasoning. The time is now."
"But Bloodheart…" an unspecified voice asked.
"The vampire has failed before against this foe," General Scott said.
"He is one of us!" another unspecified voice protested.
"General," the French council member said, "He has fought valiantly for the council for centuries. While he is talented, he is not perfect."
"We cannot afford another failure especially tonight," General Scott said before any further protests could be raised. "Yes, he is not my favorite person but his loyalty has never been questioned. In this case, we must strike now. I have already ordered the mission and our warriors are gathering. Please put me in your prayers and ask for guidance. You will have my report tomorrow after the mission. Good day or night and may his light guide us," General Scott said before he placed his right hand inside his robe.
All the screens darkened. General Scott sighed. He knew that the meeting with the council leaders would be stressful. He had instructed Jordan to limit their communications. They had worked out a signal that he would place his right hand inside his robe. When he did, Jordan immediately would terminate their meeting. Jordan looked at his leader and his face was grim. His concerned expression was not lost on the council elder.
"Do you have something to add, Jordan?" he asked
"They do have a valid point. The vampire hunter is a powerful warrior who has…"
"Failed us repeatedly," General Scott snapped.
"Over five centuries, you expected him to be flawless?" Jordan asked firmly as he stood and stared directly into General Scott's eyes.
"Know your place, Bishop," he warned.
"I know my place," he replied. "Do you still know yours?"
General Scott's eyes widened and his nostrils flared. "How dare you?"
"How dare you? You know well and good that you want this mission for yourself."
"Not true," General Scott replied as he looked away. "It's just that…"
"It's just what?"
"He's not one of us!" General Scott said as he snapped his head back to face his ally.
"He's been one of us since…"
"HE IS NOT ONE OF US! HE'S ONE OF THEM!"
"And he kills his own kind," Jordan said calmly.
"Except for their leader," General Scott said.
Jordan nodded. "I cannot argue with you on that point. Since the queen has made herself more visible, he has had chances and he's failed."
"Or he didn't try to succeed."
Jordan rubbed his chin. "What do you suggest that we do?"
"We must follow the mandate of this council. You are familiar with the mandate, are you not?" General Scott pressed.
"Yes, the Council of the Light will battle the force
s of darkness until the undead minions no longer walk amongst us."
"And that is what we will do."
Both men nodded.
* * *
Six hours ago, David had worked his magic. He had tapped into several council databases. Using specific search criteria, he found a list of several of church sponsors. Those same sponsors were actually major corporations who were the monetary foundation of the council. With another search criterion, he found a very limited list of sponsors based in and around Atlantic Canada. After several chat sessions and a couple phone calls, he was speaking to the president of a large, Atlantic Canadian brewery. The president owned and operated his own fleet of private jets. Forty minutes after their conversation had ended; the president had arranged to meet them at his private airport. Moments later, they were airborne and headed to the United Kingdom.
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