Renegade (Ministry of Paranormal Research & Defence)

by Chapman, Andrew

  “No, doesn't work like that,” said Anna. “It would take a vast amount of skill and effort to plant a delayed instruction in people's heads. It's far easier to plant a good impression, so people think you're great and your ideas are all great and your arguments are persuasive. Less likely to go wrong, too. People might notice a politician who can only say “I'm going to veto this law.” if the conditioning takes over. Far better for him to be convinced that it's good and right to vote against the law even if he can't quite remember all the excellent reasons why.”

  “Well, however he's doing it,” said Aiden, “he's certainly been spreading his influence.”

  “We've 'ad an eye on 'im for a while,” said Loki. “And unlike the sheriff's department we don't have a problem with racial profilin'.”

  “And who do you work for?” said Aiden.

  I remembered that Loki's status had been glossed over when he was introduced. I still wasn't sure what he was doing or how he knew Jack.

  “Let's jus' say I have a certain amount of immunity, shall we?” he said evasively.

  “Uh-huh,” said Aiden. “And you don't think you're being watched?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Loki. “I know it. I'm bettin' that, right now, agents from the state department, in violation of Vienna Convention, are watching a devilishly 'andsome brother have dinner with 'is latest date. My mug is not well known.”

  “Okay, how does this help us locate Jack?” I asked.

  “Well, Stubbs' boy, who goes by the name Michael Tunbridge—not the name he was born with, I assure you—has property not too far from the DeClerc estate,” said Aiden.

  “Tunbridge?” said Cam. “That's the guy that greaseball DeClerc said could be behind Marie's kidnapping.”

  “Well, it might be worth checking out this property of his,” said John, a hard look in his eyes.

  “A house?” I asked.

  “Not really. You ever hear of SeeTekUSA?” said Aiden.

  “The mercenary outfit?” said Loki.

  “They prefer private military company, but essentially, yes. Tunbridge runs SeeTek. They do security and strong arming for various companies worldwide. Violent, nasty bastards with lots of resources and lots of money. Rumor has it that they can put more boots on the ground anywhere in the world than the Marines.”

  “Yeah, we've been keepin' tabs on them too,” Loki said with a somber nod.

  “Well, they have a training facility here,” said Aiden. “Some sort of special resources instruction. Big area with lots of buildings. 'Bout four square miles in all.”

  “Fuck!” spat Loki. “How come we never 'eard of this?”

  “Because it's registered to a company that's supposed to provide rehab for vampires who are having trouble with the whole civilization thing.”

  “The Fairborn Estate?” asked Loki, incredulous.

  “Oh yeah,” said Aiden. “And I'd bet dollars to donuts that's where Jack is.”

  “So why are we still here?” I said testily.

  “Because it's protected by an army.” said Aiden. “An army toting some of the most sophisticated anti-werewolf weaponry in the world. Not that I think this information is going to stop you, I just wanted you to know what you're up against.”

  I stopped and let out my breath. He was right. How could we possibly get in there and get Jack out?

  “We could get some of the pack down here.” said Natasha.

  “And how many of them would you be willing to see die to get Jack back?” asked Anna, staring at me.

  “I can't ask anyone to come with me.” I said.

  “You're not asking,” said Aiden, “and if you think you're leaving me behind you've got another think coming.”

  “That goes double for me,” said John. Anna nodding firmly behind him.

  “Me too.” said Bolt

  “Pack protection, Ma'am,” said Natasha. “Do I have to remind you what that means?”

  I couldn't believe it. I wasn't going to be able to leave them behind for anything. “Okay,” I said. “Then we need to come up with a strategy. Maybe we can use the pack. Think we could scare up a large anti-vampire demonstration outside? Pull as many people off of their duty assignments as possible. Make it big, make it loud, make it as peaceful as possible so they don't have an excuse to cause problems?”

  “I don't think that would work,” said Bolt. “How many people would they need to cover a political protest that isn't violent?”

  “Not enough,” said Aiden.

  “How many people are in there?” I asked. “And do we have a map?”

  “I can get one,” said John, pulling his computer out of his bag. “As to how many, give me a second to figure that out.”

  “How are you gonna do that, brave husband of mine?”

  “You'll see.”

  John had the map of the area up on the screen. It really was a lot of wide open areas with scattered buildings.

  “This,” he said, pointing to a jumble of structures that looked like a small section of city, “is a FISH & CHIPS training facility.”

  “FISH & CHIPS?” said Kyle.

  “FIBUA?” John asked.

  Kyle gave him a blank look.

  “Fighting in Built-Up Areas.” said John. “That's the official term.”

  “And FISH & CHIPS?”

  “Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets.” John quipped. “That's the unofficial term. Urban combat.”

  “Right,” said Kyle, “so it's not like there will be people there unless they're practicing night maneuvers.”

  “Right,” said John, then pointed to another bigger building. “This is a CQB building. Like the Killing House. Again, Jack's not going to be there.”

  He pointed to a section of buildings.

  “Gun ranges,” he said. “Over here is an assault course and these over here are bunkers. All training grounds. See anything?”

  I looked close, then it hit me.

  “No barracks.” I said. “What's this over here?” I pointed to a large building at the front of the complex.

  “The main house.” said John

  “I don't get it.” said Jason

  “There's no long term facilities for trainees. No barracks. Here's the deal. When they train people here it's roughing it. They get tents. They may get trailers or they may just have to sleep under the stars. That means there's no permanent army there.”

  “How do you know there's not a field full of tents?” Terry asked.

  “I made a phone call,” John replied. “I spoke to a very helpful and underpaid person, asking about the use of the facilities for my mistress' army and costs and such. That person, sniffing for a commission, assured me that the facility was available immediately.”

  “No shit,” said Aiden, studying the screen. “So when do we leave?”

  “We do, you don't.” said John flatly.

  “Hey, pack protection.” said Aiden. “We don't walk away.”

  “And how much use do you think you'll be?” said John. “How much military experience do you have?”

  The deputy sneered and pulled up his shirt sleeve, revealing a tattoo.

  “Semper Fi, bitch,” he snapped. “Ten years in the Corps.”

  There was silence in the room for a strained moment, then John grinned.

  “I like him,” he said. “He can come with us. Someone get this fine Marine a gun.”

  “Speaking as someone who has neither a tattoo nor ten years, I think we'd be of little help.” said Kyle. Terry nodded.

  “No,” said Natasha. “You go back and let Tyler know what's happening. That'll help us out.”

  “And you, Ma'am?” said Cam.

  “Air Force,” she said. “We don't go in for tattoos like the Jarheads. Tyler likes helping Veterans out, especially when they're werewolves. I was a chopper pilot before I was bitten. Pensioned off. I figure you'll need someone to drive the getaway vehicles.”

  “Great, now we've got to plan and hope they're
not doing anything nasty to Jack.”

  CHAPTER

  46

  I hit the floor like I had a grudge against it and lay there for a bit, bleeding. Actually the floor was pretty comfortable. I felt like lying here and sleeping for a while. My broken arm throbbed like someone was dragging a rusty file over the bones. My head hurt and was leaking blood everywhere. I was now sure that I had at least two broken ribs. My kidneys hurt after the pummeling I was currently taking a break from and, if, I was lucky enough to survive this, I was pretty sure I'd be pissing blood tomorrow. Strangely, they'd stayed away from my legs. But I was getting the kind of all-over beating that makes you wish you were somewhere—anywhere—else. The vamp had been seriously upset even after he'd dunked his head in some water to clean my blood off him.

  He was standing in the corner of the little conservatory and watching, his smug grin somewhat let down by the pink skin on his face and inflamed red eyes. Even so, he was doing his best to look like a winner.

  I was really getting comfortable on the floor when one of the vampire goons pulled back his boot and gave me a good, solid kick in the hip. That fucking hurt. Apparently, I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

  A vampire grabbed me and flung me across the room, where I landed in a heap. These four thugs had been kicking the crap out of me for the last twenty minutes and I knew they were holding back. A vampire isn't that much stronger than the average human but even four humans would have been able to put some serious hurt on me in that time. Four vampires should have killed me by now. They were drawing this out and it was getting me angry.

  My broken left arm was hanging useless and it felt like somebody had packed it with red-hot ice. The way I'd fallen brought my right hand in close proximity to my right boot. I was wearing my KnightStar combat trousers with the cuffs tucked into the top of my boots, American-style. It only took me half a second to jam my thumb inside my boot. In there, in a specially made sheath, was one of my few remaining backup weapons. A tiny silver alloy blade, like a snapped penknife, razor sharp on one edge.

  I pulled it out, gripping it between my thumb and middle finger, bracing the blunt side against the side of my first finger.

  I wasn't just angry. I was livid. Rage dumped into my bloodstream like an adrenaline rush from hell. I sprang to my feet, swinging the tiny, glittery blade in my hand, catching one of the vampires across the throat. The blade dragged a thin line of blood across his skin, followed by a deeper gush that soaked the front of his shirt. He went down, his hands clapped to his neck and a puzzled look on his face. One of the other bully boys rushed from my side. I lashed out and kicked him solidly on the knee, then took a step back to balance my leg before sending one half of a pair of the British Army's combat boots into his testicles. For good measure I slammed my knee upward, connecting with this nose as he doubled over from the kick in the nuts. Something broke and I wouldn't have given you better than fifty-fifty that it wasn't my knee. I limped backwards, turning to face the last vamp. The blade now gripped between the knuckles of my first and middle fingers like a punch dagger.

  “Stop!”

  Standing in the doorway was a distinguished looking vampire. Physically he didn't look much older than any of the other vamps in the room. He looked like a well-to-do young businessman, but something about his manner and posture said loudly and clearly that he had been a young man for a very long time.

  I panted hard, trying to control my heart rate and stop my head from spinning. My entire body hurt and I was grateful that the vamp bully boys were backing off a little.

  “There is no need for this violence.” he said smoothly.

  Great. Bad guy break in the action. It's always the same. Just as you get worked up enough to deliver a world-class shoeing some twat steps out and wants to talk over his evil plan. The coming conversation will probably include the phrase 'We're not so different, you and I.'

  Sometimes I wonder why I bother. The adrenaline was starting to ebb, leaving nothing but pain and stiffness in its wake.

  “Is this the huntsman?” said the newcomer.

  “If you can call him that, Mr. Stubbs.” spat Tunbridge.

  “Show some respect, Michael. He has a broken arm and at least one broken rib, yet he has scarred your face and managed to incapacitate two of your three bodyguards whilst they were in the process of attempting to subdue him. Clearly, he is more than a match for you.”

  I wiped the blood off of my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “The blood of a Huntsman,” said the newcomer with hunger in his eyes. “A delicacy so long denied us.”

  “Take all you want,” I muttered. “Drink your fill.”

  “Alas, no,” he replied. “However, I will make a deal with you.”

  “Not interested,” I said.

  “You have not heard my terms, Huntsman.”

  “Doesn't matter. Don't care. Not interested.”

  “A pity. Not entirely unexpected however. Your kind always did have a streak of stubborn pride in you. No matter. Your death will serve a purpose, as has your life. Take some small comfort from that. Your life has terrified more vampires than could otherwise be. Your death will galvanize a war which will leave my kind stronger and more powerful than ever.”

  “I ain't dead yet,” I snarled.

  “Splendid!” he said and clapped his hands together. “So single-minded. So dedicated. You know, we're not so different, you and I.”

  Told you so.

  CHAPTER

  47

  As it turned out, getting into the training ground had been ridiculously easy. Part of the surrounding fence and some of the outlying buildings had been flattened by a recent storm. Various pieces of construction equipment were around the place but the only thing blocking access was the fallen chain-link fence.

  As soon as it was dark, we hopped over the debris and faded into the night. We headed for the main house as the most likely target. The buildings in the FIBUA town were mostly open to the sky and the CQB building was deserted. From what we could see the only place with any activity was the house.

  It was huge and mostly dark. A few lights were on in the bottom windows. We were approaching from the rear of the house. I dread to think what would have happened if we had come from the front. On the back of the house was a little room with glass walls. There was Jack. He looked beaten and bruised. I vaulted a stone wall, my heart thumping in my chest. Standing opposite Jack was a vampire with an odd pink splotch across his face. He was holding Jack's gun. Raising it. Finger on the trigger.

  CHAPTER

  48

  “Kill him,” said the older vampire

  Tunbridge pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket. It was, I was vaguely interested to see, a SIG. My SIG. He pulled the slide back, loading a round and incidentally ejecting the round that was already in the chamber. Then he raised the weapon. The bore looked ridiculously tiny. Any second a lump of lead, coated with copper and tipped with silver, would come out of that tiny hole at better than a thousand feet per second. Then it would make the journey from gun to my head in a fraction of a second, where it would end my life. I saw the vamp's finger begin to tighten on the trigger. I stared down the vamp via the gun's sights and a smile bloomed on my lips. Now, with nothing to lose, I was able to give vent to my emotions. I had kept them in check since the conversation in DeClerc's office. My smile got wider, turning into a triumphant grin.

  “Something funny, huntsman?” he said with a sneer.

  “She got away from you,” I said, feeling calm and detached. “She got away from you and she's safe.”

  Of course, safe or not, I wasn't about to just stand there and be shot. I waited, muscles tensed, watching the vamp's eyes, then threw the little blade as hard as I could and dove to the side. The pistol went off, horrendously loud in the enclosed space, and the shot crazed the glass where I had been standing a second before. The vamp tracked the gun down to where I was. I had no more options, no more energy. I was out of time and
out of luck.

  And then the window to the side exploded. A figure, a whirlwind of teeth and claws and fur came bursting through, landing in front of me and spinning to face the vamps.

  Marie drew in a double lungful of air and roared loud enough to shake the room. One word, full of rage.

  “Mine!”

  She lashed out, her claws raking Tunbridge's face to the bone. The gun dropped, clattering to the floor. Marie turned to the other bully boy vamp and flattened his nose with a powerful blow that sent him flying. Again she roared.

  “Mine!”

  I scrabbled forward and snatched up the SIG, pointing it and blowing a hole in the older vamp's thigh. Another werewolf leaped through the broken window—Cam—followed by a third I didn't recognize. This one had rich, brown fur and was big enough to give Cam a run for his money. The older vamp died quickly as the pair converged on him.

  Marie skidded across the floor and pulled me into her arms, making desperate whining noises. She bent and licked my face as I smiled up at her.

  “Mine,” she said softly.

  I pulled her close and buried my face in her fur. The adrenaline was gone in the rush of relief and had left me weak and shaking.

  “Yours,” I agreed, hugging her with one arm.

  “Hey,” said another voice. Anna. “You want to back off a little so I can give him the once over?”

  Marie loosened her grip and moved around so I could see Anna and John. Bolt was there too, covering everyone with his SMG. Cam and the other werewolf were gone, through the door and into the house proper. A brief scream and a vampire flying past the door on a trajectory which was almost flat suggested the two of them weren't wasting their time.