by Sean Hayden
"Why don't you hire actual vampires?” I had a feeling I already knew the answer.
"Because Ash, whenever a vampire is created, he is bound to the will of his maker. You can't have someone at your back with double loyalties. We found that out the hard way. Back in the early fifties, we wanted a vampire on the payroll. We forced a common vampire in custody to turn a volunteer agent. He did it, and then had the agent release him from our custody. Agents caught both of them trying to escape. The master ended up dead and when he died, we lost our agent. He just died for no apparent reason. With you, we won't have that problem. You have no master but yourself. Frankly, we need you. Vampires don't trust human authorities, and we don't trust them. We know for a fact, every vampire you have met thinks you are a vampire. Help us please."
I thought about all he said, and I wanted to say yes. I would finally have a purpose in my unusual life. I had some nagging doubts I just couldn't shake though. What if they expected me to do things I thought wrong? Being forced to do something I didn't want to truly bothered me. What if I ended up working for someone who would just use me? The list kept getting bigger the more I thought about it. Then I thought of the good I could do. I saw myself saving innocent people and rescuing people from certain death and the wave of doubts ebbed.
"Agent Reese, what guarantee would I have, if things don't work out, that I wouldn't be stuck working for the FBI for the rest of my life?"
"Agents are allowed to quit at any time, Ashlyn. We are an employer, not slave owners. You do understand there is a lot of training involved as well. I don't want you to think I am going to hand you a badge and magically make you a field agent. We're talking school and combat training, and weapons training, and I could go on and on about all the things you would have to learn before you became an agent. I couldn't even tell you what office you would be working out of. I would love to have you here, but most likely you're going to end up in DC. I want you to understand what coming to work for us would mean, and pardon the expression, I don't want to blow smoke up your ass. It will be a lot of hard work."
"I understand. If I say yes, what would happen next?"
"You would head to Virginia, Quantico to be exact. The FBI Academy is there. Is this a yes, Ashlyn?"
"I think so Agent Reese, just some nagging doubts. Does the Academy have night courses?" I meant it as a joke, but I really had concerns.
"Yes, some of our supes prefer to train at night."
"What's a supe?"
"Supe is slang for supernatural entities, our classification of agents with extraordinary physical manifestations. They include, but are not limited to, wereanimals, any of the classifications of the fey, mages, etc, etc. You yourself are a supe. You'll probably meet some people at Quantico who'll make you feel a little more ordinary. Twenty-five years ago, when I trained there, I had instructors you wouldn't believe. I think you'll enjoy your training immensely. So Miss Ashlyn Nolastname, Do we have a deal?" He rose and extended his hand, and I timidly took it and shook on it. I had sealed the deal. I just hope I hadn't sealed my fate.
* * *
Reese shut off the music and made his way to the door. He motioned me to remain seated and left the room. I slunk down in my chair and kept muttering to myself about what I had just done. I found myself in midbabble when Reese came in with one of my guards. At least he brought Mr. Senseofhumor.
"Ashlyn this is Agent Michaels. Normally we would just put you on a plane to Virginia, but we're going to arrange special transport for you. He will make sure you get there okay. Just to be clear, I'm not doing this because I don't trust you. I'm doing this because I know how new you are to the real world. So far your education has been from computers and television, and I'm sure they left out how a few things really work, especially airports."
"Agent Michaels, pleasure to meet you." I shook his hand and got another one of his smiles.
"Ashlyn is going to be joining the Bureau. I want you to escort her back to her hotel where she can collect her things and then double time it back here to catch a flight to Quantico. I'll have your itinerary and everything else ready for the two of you when you return." Reese spoke with the calm collectiveness I had grown accustomed to.
"Come on kid; let's go get your things," Michaels said to me. I didn't care for the "kid", but at least he didn't ruffle my hair. I would have had to hurt him.
We left Reese's office and made our way down to the parking garage. As we exited the elevator Michaels pulled a key ring from his jacket pocket and pushed a button on a key fob. I heard a telltale "honk" from my right and I looked up to see the yellow running lights blink merrily announcing our transportation, a big black Suburban complete with tinted windows.
Michaels made for the driver's side and climbed on in, so I did the same on the passenger's side. My vehicle experience so far had consisted of the back of a cargo van, so I found this to be much nicer. I couldn't believe the size of it. I could easily have curled up into a ball on the floorboards and still have room.
"You like music?" Michaels broke the silence first.
"Some," I replied and watched him punch a few buttons on the stereo. Led Zeppelin wasn't too bad. I could live with Robert Plant.
"So, I hope you know what you're getting into. You always wanted to be an FBI agent when you grew up?"
"I'll let you know if I ever grow up," I replied jokingly. I assumed he knew I wasn't a normal human, but his quizzical look made me think twice. If I had to spend time with Agent Michaels, I might as well fill him in. "You do know I'm not normal right?"
"You look normal to me."
I held out my hand and showed him my talons. I usually spend my entire day with my fists clenched, so they aren't noticeable. I have never been around people, so it had to be a self conscious way of hiding what I considered a deformity. "Not normal," I told him.
He looked at my hands and then at my face. He had shaken my hand earlier in Reese's office and not noticed them. I didn't want to scare him, but I didn't want secrets from anyone anymore, so I showed him my teeth. To his credit, he didn't drive off the road and crash.
"You're a supe? Cool," he said and made an appraising gesture with his mouth and nodded his head up and down. "You spend too much time in your wereform? I had heard some parts can get stuck."
"No Michaels. I'm not a wereanimal. I'm kind of like a vampire, but a little different. I have no idea exactly what I am," I answered honestly.
"Are you strong like a vampire? You don't look dead to me."
"Yes I am strong, very strong and very fast. Vampires aren't dead you know. They don't have a heart beat per se, but it still pumps the blood throughout their system in a fluid motion rather than a spasm. Mine's the same way. See, I have no pulse," I said and held out my wrist to him.
He took one hand off the steering wheel and placed his index and middle fingers on my wrist. "Creepy," he said, but with a smile. "So you have fangs and super strength and super speed and no pulse, so why don't you think you're a vamp?"
"I have never been human."
"Oh, this I got to hear. Do tell lady friend," he said with a smile. I figured we had about forty-five minutes till we got to the motel, so for the second time in one day I told my story from start to finish. I figured I might as well get used to telling, because I had a feeling once I reached the training facility in Virginia, I would be telling it quite often.
By the time we had reached the motel I finished my tale. He didn't stop me to ask questions, and I paused only to give him directions. He said nothing until we pulled into the parking lot. Finally he placed his hand on my arm and gave me a warm smile.
"I'm glad we found you. Welcome to the FBI. Now all you have to do is make it through the academy. Come on, let's go get your stuff, and since you're so strong you can carry the heavy stuff. You might be vampiric, but you're still a girl, so I'm expecting at least twelve suitcases."
I laughed and led the way to my room. I saw the shock on his face when I packed all my clothes into
one backpack and then I saw his shock go to disbelief when I emptied the room safe of all my cash. I placed my small fortune into the backpack, and in minutes I was ready to go.
I palmed my fake identification card and stuffed it into my front jeans pocket when he wasn't looking. I gave up my old life and I had to destroy the last link. I would have to burn it later when I could do it with a modicum of privacy. Maybe I should have a little ceremony. I walked with Michaels to the front desk and checked out. The clerk deftly brought up my room charges and I paid them in cash. Michaels spun and led the way to the automatic door. I gave a resigned smile and followed him towards my new life.
We made our way back to the SUV and drove back to the Chicago office. The dashboard clock of the SUV read nine o'clock and the parking garage seemed deserted except for Reese standing there waiting for us to park. He walked up to my window, so I rolled it down.
"Here's everything you need. Transport has been arranged. You leave from O'Hare in a little more than an hour. I wanted to make sure you got to Virginia well before sunrise. They are expecting you there. Good luck, Miss Ashlyn. I have included all my contact information in the packet, so if you ever need to contact me you can." He shook my hand and stepped away from the vehicle.
"Thank you, Agent Reese, for everything. I'll call when I can."
Michaels backed out of the spot and headed for the airport. I pulled the travel itinerary from the packet and handed it to Michaels. I glanced through the rest of it and found a temporary letter of appointment, copies of my statements about the incidents in the city, a hard copy of the verbal statement of my life, a business card bearing the name Clifford Reese, and a sealed envelope with Special Agent in Charge Vincent Morello written in blue ink across it. It piqued my curiosity, but I didn't open it.
Michaels glanced at the itinerary. The traffic thickened the closer we got to the airport, but kept moving at a good pace so we didn't have any trouble getting to the airport on time. When we pulled onto the off ramp, and didn't follow the directions to the terminal like I expected, but followed the signs to the private hangar areas. I guess I wasn't flying commercial.
We wound our way along the frontage road and pulled up to a nondescript hangar. Its white corrugated metal walls supported a standard rounded roof just like every hangar I had ever seen on TV. The front doors lay open and I saw a small jet parked inside. I thought we would park somewhere outside, but apparently Michaels had been here before, because he pulled right inside and parked the Suburban off to the side.
He hit the button for the automatic door locks and pulled his handle. I did the same and stepped out onto the hanger floor. The smell of jet fuel permeated the hangar, so I assumed they had just filled the plane for our departure. I found it very nauseating. Michaels started walking toward a man in blue slacks and a white shirt with blue and yellow stripes on the shoulders. I would have bet money on the fact I stood before the captain of the aircraft.
"Agent Michaels?" Michaels nodded. "Climb aboard and we'll prepare for takeoff. Miss, welcome aboard," he said to me.
I followed Michaels up the stairs built into the door of the plane itself and gave a little gasp. Commercial airliners had always looked so cramped and uncomfortable whenever I had seen them in the movies. This looked like an RV with wings. Comfortable looking leather swivel chairs dotted the aircraft as well as a table and booth setup. Waiting inside stood a looking woman in a blouse and skirt combination matching the captains. She looked busy stowing some gear in the overhead bins and making last minute preparations for takeoff.
When she saw we had entered the plane she walked over and introduced herself as Tiffany, and to let her know if there might be anything we needed. Yuck. I didn't care for Tiffany right away. I heard Michaels mumble a thank you and he sat down in one of the swivel chairs. I noticed him fasten his seatbelt right away and grip the armrests like he wanted to bend them around his waist for added restraint. He must not like to fly. I didn't know what to expect since I had never been in an airplane, but I wasn't going let his skittishness rub off on me.
I stuffed my backpack in the overhead above us and took the chair next to him. I fumbled with the seatbelts for a few moments and then finally heard the satisfying little click which told me I had succeeded in mastering the art of airplane safety. We sat in silence for a few, and I heard the whine of the engines as they fired up. Without warning we lurched forward out of the hangar bay and as we turned I glimpsed a small yellow vehicle towing the front of the plane. After a few minutes of being towed by the curious little tow truck I felt the plane stop and then I heard the engines increase.
We taxied for several minutes and the captain came over the loudspeaker announcing our takeoff. I felt a thrill as I heard the engines whine out to maximum power and felt the jet shudder as it picked up speed. I looked out the window as the front of the plane lifted into the air and I watched the ground as it pulled away. I found it exciting, exhilarating, scary, and a thousand other emotions all rolled into one, and I loved it. We leveled out and the features of the ground became almost even too small for my eyes to make out. I could barely see the cars on the miniature roads and the trees planted in the yards of the miniature houses. I bounced in my seat like a little girl from the excitement.
I looked over at my travel partner and his eyes closed. He might have been nervous about flying, but not enough to keep him from dozing off. Tiffany came by and asked if I needed anything to drink. I thought about asking for blood and flashing fangs, but I probably couldn't drink the blood anyway and I didn't want to spend the next hour with a hysterical flight attendant. I just shook my head "no" and laid my head back in my best impersonation of Michaels.
Chapter 6
I must have done a better job impersonating Michaels than I imagined. When I woke up the tires had literally hit the tarmac. My first airplane ride and I slept through it. Missing most of the flight frustrated me a little. Michaels had already awoken and gingerly sipped on a Coke. It looked really good, and I found myself wishing I could have one, but alas the whole "I need magic blood thing" put another damper on my lifestyle.
The airplane taxied over to the area by the terminal. I hadn't even glanced at the itinerary so I had no idea which airport we had landed at. It didn't pull directly to the terminal either, just off to the side and stopped. The engines wound down and I heard them shut off, so I had a feeling the captain had been instructed to wait for Michaels while he delivered me to my destination.
The Captain came back to the passenger area and opened the door at the forward area of the compartment. It swung down on hinges and the stairs opened down to the tarmac. Michaels unfastened his seatbelt and stood. I let him move out of the way and I did the same, retrieving my bag from the overhead, and followed him out the door.
Chicago's weather had been a little cool, but Virginia's dipped into the realm of chilly. A brisk autumn breeze swirled around the plane and over my arms. I found it refreshing after the pumped in oxygen of the hour long flight. I followed my companion down the stars where two new agents standing in front of an identical black Suburban to the one Michaels and I had ridden in hours ago, stood waiting for us. I watched warily as the two agents greeted Michaels with handshakes and one of them opened the rear door for us.
I climbed in and slid across the back seat to the other side so Michaels wouldn't have to walk around. I felt the seat shift as he slid in next to me and did his seatbelt. I didn't bother with mine. When you can snap handcuffs like peanut brittle putting on a seatbelt is about as reassuring as tying yarn around your waist before climbing on a roller coaster.
The two agents climbed in up front and the driver started the car. They strapped themselves in just like Michaels had, so I assumed the FBI had made it mandatory for their agents to wear them. I still didn't fasten mine. I'm such a rebel. The agent behind the wheel put the car into drive and we sped away out into the cold Virginia night.
* * *
Thanks to the handy signage posted throug
hout the roads surrounding the airport, I learned we had landed at Dulles International Airport. I found myself enjoying the nighttime scenery and the silence of the ride. I had reached the second chapter of my life and I wanted to enjoy the final paragraphs of my first. I wistfully thought about how nice it would have been if we had driven from Chicago instead of flying. Too soon I found our SUV pulling up to the Quantico Marine Base. I wondered how long it would be before I could leave again.
We drove through wooded areas until we reached the academy. Another checkpoint and we had entered the belly of the beast, so to speak. Once the car had rolled to a stop and the agent driving put it in park, I grabbed my bag and followed all three agents into the main facility. We passed through the reception area and into the bowels of what had to be offices set aside for administration purposes. We wound our way around the halls of education at its finest and stopped in front of a door with a placard engraved with the name Vincent Morello. I recognized the name from the envelope given to me by Agent Reese.
One of the new agents knocked on the door and entered. I followed behind everyone and found a large man with graying spiked hair sitting behind a desk very similar to Reese's. He looked up and nodded to the two agents who delivered Michaels and me from the airport. They turned and departed, leaving us alone with Morello.
"Agent Michaels I assume?" He rose and offered his hand to my friend, who accepted heartily.
"Here she is, sir, as promised."
"Thank you, Michaels. Tell Reese he owes me lunch next time I see him," he said jovially.
"I will, sir, and take care of her. She's a little "special" if you know what I mean." Michaels turned to me and smiled. I knew what he meant. He even did the stupid little quotation marks with his fingers when he said the word special. I expected a firm handshake before he left, but he surprised me with a hug. The whole experience surprised me, but I found myself liking it. Compared to mine, his body burned like a furnace and I felt myself enjoying the warmth. "Take care of yourself little girl. I expect to see you again soon, and listen to Morello. He's good people."