“I didn’t come here to upset you,” Christopher said, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her.
“Shhh . . . quiet . . . don’t talk, just hold me.” Calida reached out and made contact with the figure behind the glass for a second time. She quickly read what was wanted from her and she shook her head. The vivid cruelty of what was being demanded made her eyes flash a deep angry pink. And the vibration again jolted her skull and an intense pain blurred her vision. It suddenly stopped, but her whole body trembled.
“I’m sorry, Honey,” Christopher whispered. “I didn’t come here to make you cry.”
Calida knew they had been trapped. She had taken many lives through the countless years, but she didn’t want to take this one, at this moment. She focused on the Director who was smiling at her and she strained to gain a purchase within his mind, but the implant inside her head screamed its high pitched warning. Calida hesitated, trying to face what she must now do. And in a final act of futility she fully extended her fangs as a warning, but the Director ignored the display and gave her a final nod.
Calida held no illusions that she was anything but a killer who fed upon the weak. But the decision to kill had always been her choice, and done only out of necessity, to survive. And here, at this moment, she had become an instrument of death controlled by the will of another. Another who in the darkest ways was far more evil then even the worst of her kind. Unlike a vampire, this man didn’t kill for food.
Calida stroked Christopher’s hair for a tender moment and listened to the loud rush of blood through his exposed neck. She touched the soft warmth of his skin with her lips and gently whispered into his ear, “Don’t worry, Sweetheart, it will be over soon.”
And she plunged her fangs deep into the large blood vessels coursing through his neck and bit down hard, severing everything in a deadly instant as she excised a mouthful of flesh, which she quickly swallowed. The young man struggled for a few desperate seconds, but there was no hope of escaping her embrace. As Calida helplessly drained Christopher of his life the Director silently watched her feed.
Ryan looked at the computer screen and frowned. This wasn’t the result he wanted, or even expected. He turned away, surveyed his laboratory, and listened for a moment to the electrical background chatter of his equipment performing their tireless routines. He concluded that he couldn’t do anything about the situation so he got up and walked over to where Professor Balken was mumbling about his own equipment not being carefully packed. The Professor ignored Ryan who patiently waited for his attention.
“I’m sorry about this,” Ryan finally offered.
“Well don’t be,” Professor Balken said. “I may be past my physical prime but I am still quite capable of sound research.” He turned away from Ryan and looked over his packing list.
“You’ve misunderstood me,” Ryan said. “I’m sorry that you won’t be able to publish. I’ve just received a message from the Director that the agency can’t have any such information made public. It would interfere with the central doctrine that controls this agency’s—”
“I don’t care about that,” Professor Balken said. “Long ago I exorcised my desire for the big prize. And even though I am sure ye are a capable . . . molecular biologist, there are other areas of study here that require my assistance.”
“As I was saying,” Ryan said. “The message from the Director stated that your contract with the agency for secrecy will remain in force. Now, how would you like to proceed with the elemental analysis?”
“Of course I will honor my agreement with—” Professor Balken raised an eyebrow and clasped his hands together. “Are you telling me that I am—I am to remain, and assist with the research?”
“I’ve been instructed you’ve been granted appropriate clearance. I remain lead researcher, you understand.”
“Well, certainly my young Doctor, I wouldn’t have it any other way. The administrative aspects of research only serve to slow down progress.”
Ryan walked up to the Professor and offered his hand. “Welcome to the team,” he said, and the two men shook hands. “Now what would you like to know first?”
“The answer to the same question I asked last night. What is she?”
Ryan looked past Professor Balken and nodded.
“She’s a vampire,” Siri replied, standing by the entrance to the laboratory.”
Professor Balken turned around. “Such a thing—a terrible thing—really exists?”
“Remember her eyes?” Ryan replied. “And her teeth? Fangs really. She’s got six of them I’ve been told.”
“And she seemed to be such a sweet girl up until the last few minutes,” Professor Balken said. “The poor young lass.”
“Before you waste any more pity on her,” Siri said, “Don’t ever forget that she is a killer, and never to be trusted.”
Ryan locked eyes with Siri and realized that something had changed with her. She had always been carefully measured in the words she chose. This was out of character for her.
“Professor,” Ryan began, “why don’t you get yourself situated with one of the workstations so you can review the data we’ve so far obtained on this rare trace element?”
“Ah, yes! The one-thirty-six! Where is that young assistant of yours?” Professor Balken asked. “Henry? Henry, please assist me,” he directed. “I do hope the young man has had a proper science education.” And he walked toward Henry who had just looked up from a delicate analysis he was performing.
“So talk,” Ryan said, now that he was alone with Siri.
“At 5:00 AM, I received a call from the clinic’s chief medical officer, Doctor Peterson,” Siri said. “He asked me to assist in an autopsy. He told me there had been an accident with one of the recruits and I was the only other medical doctor onsite.”
“I already don’t like where this is headed,” Ryan said.
“So I hurried over to the clinic and was met by Peterson. He told me he had been ordered to perform an immediate autopsy and led me to one of the examining rooms.” Siri rubbed her neck for a second. “Outside of the room was the Director who informed me that my help was greatly appreciated.”
“Yeah? I bet . . . so what happened?”
“It was Christopher, Ryan,” Siri answered. Her large brown eyes expressed her sorrow. “The young man who donated right after you. Remember?”
“I remember him,” Ryan said. “Seemed like a nice kid from the south.”
“He was just a sweet kid, really,” Siri said. “He wasn’t ever going to be a field agent. He was good with equipment, that was all.”
“What happened to him?” Ryan felt a hollow pit form inside him.
“When I walked into the exam room he was lying on a metal drain table with his face turned toward the door. At first glance I didn’t see anything impressive that would indicate a severe trauma from an accident. But when I got closer, Doctor Peterson nonchalantly turned Christopher’s head and that’s when I saw the injury to his neck.”
Ryan leaned back against the laboratory bench. “We don’t need this, not now.”
Siri nodded. “I asked Peterson what happened and he told me a weapon misfired at the range. I gave him my opinion that it didn’t look like an entry wound from a projectile.”
“He just shrugged and continued with the autopsy. When we were done he entered the cause of death and signed the report.”
“You’re positive that it wasn’t caused by a weapon?”
“There’s only one way that kind of a wound could be made.”
A quick chill reached inside Ryan. “Why did he go see her?” He asked. “Why was he even allowed alone with her? Where were the guards?”
“I refused to sign the report and the Director immediately confronted me. He told me that Christopher had arranged with the duty officer some alone time with Calida. I was told the duty officer has already admitted his role. He also informed me that if the true cause got out he would have no choice but to terminate this project.�
�� Siri stepped over to a chair and wearily sat down. “Ryan, what she did to him; how he died . . . it’s cruel.”
“I don’t understand how the agency could get caught like this,” Ryan said. “She was so easily able to out maneuver everybody—that God damn plexiglas should never have been removed.”
“But why would she do it?” Siri asked. “She was being fed, and being treated so well by all of us. There was no reason for her to do this.”
Ryan reached out and gently placed his hand on Siri’s shoulder. “But she did. How bad was it?”
“There was a large tissue defect on the right side of Christopher’s neck. I estimated that it was about the size of a small fist. The skin and muscle had been cleanly removed by something impressively sharp. The right jugular was missing a couple inches of length. I asked to see the removed piece but Peterson told me that it . . . that it was missing.”
Ryan considered this for a moment. “She told me she could control herself . . . that only when she was extremely hungry she might lose control. This doesn’t make any sense to me. I mean she fed last night before this happened, didn’t she? I just missed you when I went to ask her some questions . . . yet she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk.”
“Um, well she kind of fed,” Siri said. “There was something wrong with the donor, something didn’t agree with her I think. It was something about his blood, it didn’t taste right. She barely took any now that I think about it.”
“Oh Christ,” Ryan said. “Was there anything unusual on the donor’s blood workup?”
“No, everything was right smack in the middle of her preferences, but I did notice it wasn’t the original print out.”
“Why would you be given a copy?”
“Probably just a mix up by the internal filing office.”
“Do you think that maybe we are jumping to the wrong conclusion here?” Ryan asked. “I mean isn’t it possible that a terrible accident really did happen to Christopher and Calida had nothing to do with it.” Ryan shrugged. “Sorry, but I don’t trust the Director. There’s something about him that doesn’t seem right to me.”
Siri shook her head. “I asked the Director the same thing and he told me that a video file would be available for review as soon as I was finished assisting.”
“From the surveillance cameras?”
“Yes, I watched it before I came here. It was her. She killed Christopher.”
“What else did the Director tell you?”
“He informed me that the agency wouldn’t hold us to blame for what happened. She is after all, what she is.”
Ryan turned away from Siri for a moment as a deep anger welled up from inside. “How considerate of the agency,” he said, finally.
“But it’s not our fault!”
Ryan thought for a moment and in a calm voice said, “Maybe it is.”
“I . . . I’m not following you.”
“Where is this video file?” Ryan asked.
“It’s in a locked folder on the level three security network. I can access it from any of your workstations as long as it’s a member of the parent domain.”
“I want to see it,” Ryan said. “I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Calida came awake on the cool concrete floor. The odor of death lingered in the air. Usually after such a rich blood meal she would stay asleep for several days, but not this time. The blood she had taken last night possessed a grave innocence that deeply troubled her. She could feel that the sun was still twenty minutes from setting, but something told her that she had slept enough.
She slowly stood up and looked around at her confines. The blood that had been spilled during her feeding had been cleaned away. She glanced down at her jeans and blouse. They were damp with Christopher’s blood which had begun to dry. Calida felt an immediate urge to get her clothes off. She tore the blouse and jeans from her body and threw them into a corner. She walked over to the shower head and let it run until a thick steam began to build. She leaned against the stainless steel wall and started to wash the memory of the night from her skin.
And her demon returned.
“You were magnificent last night,” the Director said as he walked into the cell and sat down on a chair.
Calida ignored him and began to wash the dried blood from her hair using a shampoo that smelled of strawberries and cream.
“Ooh yes, your silence is fine. Do not be troubled. I have no need to administer any punishment—in fact, I prefer that you listen.”
“What could a twisted bastard like you say that I’d want to hear?” Calida asked. And she turned toward him and began to work up a thick lather that she used to wash her face and neck.
“Last night was a test, my dear. Nothing more. Yes, yes, it’s unfortunate that one so innocent had to be served up to you, but I had to know if you possess any troubling delusions of morality that might interfere with your responsibilities.”
“And what have you decided?”
“That you are nearly pure of purpose.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, come now, what you did was quick, but also compassionate. I only hope this sense of compassion will not prove to be a weakness.”
“I did exactly what you wanted,” Calida said. “But I’m not the real killer, not this time you sick old man.”
“We are both killers, to be sure,” the Director said. “There will always be a place, I dare say, a need, for killers such as us.”
“It wasn’t necessary. I would have gone out and been your good little assassin. You made me take him because it pleased you to do so.”
“Yes it pleases me,” the Director said, placing his pipe between his lips. “It pleases me to always maintain certain advantages since, after all, as you have said: I’m merely a sick old man.”
“What more advantage do you need?”
“It is because of my admiration for you, for your abilities, that I require even greater advantage. You are, after all, very resourceful. How else could you have survived so long in such a hostile world?”
“So what advantage did you gain last night?” Calida asked. “It was a pointless death.”
“But just look at the fullness of your lovely tummy,” the Director replied. “The meal certainly hasn’t harmed you.”
“No.”
“It didn’t have to be that young man last night,” the Director said. “Is that clear enough for you to understand?”
Calida stepped closer to the Director—her nakedness only heightened her stunning beauty. She gave serious thought to making a full speed try at the man, but it was still day and her full strength had not yet returned.
“What is it that you want from me?” she asked, ignoring his question. “I’m done performing tricks for you.”
“Well, well, you asked the right question at last,” he replied. “That is why I am here . . . to discuss your first official duty as a member of this agency.”
Calida considered making a try for him for another moment, but her instincts prevailed and she decided to be patient. “And I thought you were here to look at what you can never have.”
“Ah, but I do have you. I have you precisely as I need you. Are you ready to listen? There is considerable ground to cover.”
“What do you want?”
“Thank you,” the Director replied, and he placed his unlit pipe back into his suit jacket. “Your first task is to remove a loathsome individual named, Manic Dee, from our society. He is causing great harm to our country’s youth while also providing assistance to our enemies abroad.”
“Where is this Manic person?”
“At present he is on the west coast, Los Angeles, to be exact. He owns a music club that caters to fellow drug dealers, gang members, prostitutes, etc. Your first assignment is to eliminate him.”
“Why do you need me to do it?” Calida asked. “This would be a simple kill, even for you.”
“Yes, yes, the agency could solve this problem rather quickly. But what I
must know is can you?”
“So this is just another one of your tests?” Calida turned off the showerhead, walked over to her small dresser, and picked up a folded towel. “Do your tests always involve killing someone?”
“Only when it is required,” the Director said. “Think of this as a field exercise, nothing more. Now you must infiltrate this club and place yourself in a position to perform the elimination without drawing any attention to what you are. Do you understand?”
Calida started working on her hair with the towel. “So how am I supposed to kill him? With a gun?”
“No, no, I don’t want there to be any witnesses or evidence that you exist. You must disguise yourself, of course. How you perform the elimination is at your discretion. But you mustn’t be caught in the act, you see. And you must not leave any physical evidence on the body that would be suspicious.”
“I’m a vampire you fool.”
“You must hide any feeding marks.”
“And how am I to get to Los Angeles? Walk?”
“The last thing this agency needs is a trail of your dead meals lined up across the country. No, you shall be flown on an agency jet to a secure location. You will be given whatever you need as far as clothes, money, or any other necessity that you desire.”
“What about the necessity of blood?” she asked, and wrapped the towel around her head. “What if I need time to get close to this man?”
“There are many homeless in Los Angeles. Just show the proper discretion with your meals. If you make a mistake, if you draw unwanted attention to yourself, the exercise will come to an immediate end. Now are we clear on everything?”
“Well, when do I leave this cage?”
“Tonight, my dear. Oh, one final point . . . you will also be required to gather some information from the mind of a Pashtun opium dealer who will be meeting with the target at his yacht. You shall be thoroughly briefed on this matter during the plane ride to Los Angeles.”
Calida retrieved a second towel and began to dry her feet and legs. “Anything else?”
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