"You don't look right,” one of them said. “We don't know you and you've been walking around all week with this high and mighty attitude. We think it's time you got your welcoming so you know who is in charge around here."
"No, wait ... please,” Mark begged.
But they refused to listen to his pleas and beat him ferociously. After a while, when he could no longer stand, one of them took out a knife and cut him along the side of his face.
"There, you're labeled now,” one of them said and they all laughed. With a final kick, they left him lying in the blood-soaked dirt.
His father refused to listen to his “petty” problems. Mark withdrew from all school activities. When not in school, he lifted weights in his basement and went out to places that he knew the other school kids didn't hang out at. He studied martial arts at the local YMCA.
By his senior year, Mark was in terrific physical shape. Not only had his muscles hardened, so had his personality. He had no friends and associated with other students only for school projects and class work. After graduation, unsure of what to do with his life, he saw a recruitment ad on the television for the Special Forces of the United States Navy. They were called SEALs, which stood for by the Sea, Air and Land; the manner by which they were introduced into hostile environments. He was fascinated by the organization of men that were the pride of the Special Forces for their discipline and perseverance.
The next day, he was at the recruiting office and the following week he was off to boot camp. Physically unchallenged by the basic training, he applied and passed the entry test for Navy SEAL training. Once in the environment that challenged both the mind and body, he excelled and received accolades from the instructors and classmates. He even surprised himself by making friends with men who were just like him.
But he still had the dreams sometimes. He felt the knife cutting through the flesh on his face. He would awake in the middle of the night breathing hard, bathed in sweat, his hand and fingers tracing the scar. He learned to deal with this emotional hitchhiker from his past and forced himself to banish the thoughts from his mind and leave those specters behind; it worked most of the time.
His first assignment was to SEAL Team Two in Virginia. After a year and a half and having done extremely well on the assigned missions, he was selected to attend a special program whereby he could attend college and apply for a commission to become an officer. Again, he excelled and attained excellent grades, graduating at the top of the class. One day in casual conversation with a fellow classmate, he was asked about his family back home.
"Family? The Navy is my family,” he said. “They are the only ones that have ever cared for me and given me what I have needed. That is the family that I will die for."
* * * *
"Excuse me, Lieutenant?” Commander Reese said, interrupting Johnson's thoughts.
"Oh ... sorry, sir,” Johnson said as he stood. Unlike some of his SEAL brethren, Johnson responded with the utmost courtesy to all senior officers, regardless if they were Special Forces or not.
"Must have been a good thought you were having,” Reese said.
"Can I help you, sir?” Johnson asked, not willing to discuss what his thoughts had been about.
"I need your expertise,” Reese began. “I'm a planner, not an operator. You're the expert in conducting covert operations, so if I should suggest something that you do not feel is correct, I want you to tell me okay?"
"Yes, sir,” Johnson said. “What did you have in mind?"
"For starters, I want satellite reconnaissance of the area where the captain was killed ASAP. Any chance of rigging that for tonight?"
"Shouldn't be any problem as long as the satellite is within range. I'll have to check that out.” He checked the time on his watch; there was approximately eight hours until darkness. “We have unlimited use during the Kosovo ops. It can be viewed in the command center here in the camp."
"Good. Now can you augment it to pick out signatures that would not be as warm as the human body? Make its reception more sensitive?"
"I should be able to get something done along those lines,” Johnson answered as he looked at Reese. “But why ... wait, you think there is something there, don't you? That there is some truth to all these stories."
"The facts dictate that something is there. The question is what?"
"And if there is something there that is not ... normal? Then what?"
"One step at a time, Lieutenant,” Reese said. “You arrange for the satellite observation. I'll meet you in the command center at dusk. I have one other thing to look into. We have engineers here that can manufacture things?"
"Sure. Great bunch, tell them what you want and they make it."
"Thanks, I'll see you later."
* * * *
Reese found Major Barkley watching Idriz in one of the operating rooms. Idriz was mixing the elixir.
"Major.” Reese said to get his attention.
"Commander,” Barkley began, his eyes never leaving the man he watched. “Do you know what he is using to make whatever it is he is making? He's using blood and..."
"We can discuss the ingredients later,” Reese interjected. “I need you to create something for me and I need it by first light tomorrow."
Major Barkley seemed perturbed that he was being pulled away from watching Idriz.
"Don't worry,” Reese said. “The corporal is keeping track of everything he uses in the preparation."
"I think the civilian knows it, too. He's been misleading the corporal. He picks up something and acts like he's putting it in and he isn't. I can't even tell you at this point what is or isn't in it. He's a sneaky guy. What bothers me is why?"
"They are a unique people, yet very suspicious and not trustful with outsiders.” Reese let the issue drop for now; he had other things to attend to. He imagined that if they had to, they could analyze the solution to figure out its content.
"What is it that you need?” Barkley asked.
Reese tried to figure out how to describe the device he envisioned. “I don't know how exactly to explain what I want, so bear with me."
"Okay, shoot,” Barkley said, looking perplexed.
"Imagine a device that can be controlled remotely, like from a hand-held device. Perhaps like a television remote or something. Its function would be to inject a quantity of liquid into a body quickly."
"We have automatically controlled injectors here that dispense painkillers. They're sensitive devices and extremely precise. It would just be a matter of reconfiguring the controls to work from a hand-controlled remote. What about distance?"
"As much as I can get."
"That might be a problem. I can probably get you fifty feet or so."
"That will have to do for now anyway,” Reese said. “Now here is the rest of what I'm thinking about. What I want you to do is imagine the injector and its contents attached to a ... collar-like device."
"What? A collar? You mean like the size of a dog collar?"
"Not a dog collar. Bigger. I want it to be the size to go around a human neck."
Barkley didn't say anything. He just stared at Reese with a bewildered look, as if afraid to ask for more information.
"And make it of the hardest metal we can get our hands on here. It needs a locking device, too."
"I don't know...” Barkley said. “I'll see what I can whip up."
"Take what you need and go see Captain Souer in the machine shop. I've already talked to him and he knows you're coming. I have instructed him that he is to do exactly what you ask and to complete it by first light. Do not tell him anything beyond what is absolutely necessary to manufacture the collars. Make at least four of them and remember—these things must be tamper-proof. If the wearer tries to remove the collar, or if it's activated by the remote, the injector must immediately inject the substance."
"And the substance?” Barkley asked.
Reese glanced at Idriz, who was still mixing and stirring the elixir.
; Chapter Nineteen
Reese entered the operations center about an hour after the sun had gone down. Computer monitors lined the tables, their screens casting different shades of colored light, giving the room a surreal feel to it. Most of the computers were not is use during the later hours.
Reese scanned the room until he found Lieutenant Johnson. He spotted him off in a corner working alone. For some reason, Reese felt that was the way Johnson liked it, working alone. He felt he was a very inward person unless you were a member of the SEALs or associated with special operations. One of the things Reese had learned during his time with the SEALs in his regular job in acquisition was that you may be part of the team, but unless you're an operator, you're on the outside of the unique club that they belonged to. In a way Reese could understand that, there were cliques in everything, whether school, the workforce or the military; however, when you were associated with a group of people that did things like the SEALs did, the divide between them and others just seemed to be greater.
Reese walked to where Johnson sat, but did not say anything. Johnson intently stared into a computer monitor as he typed on the keyboard. Reese stood behind him watching and waiting, but not wanting to interrupt him for the moment.
Finally, when Johnson had completed what he had been working on, he looked up and saw Reese watching his actions.
"Commander,” Johnson began. “We're just about ready. I have been honing the system to the requirements you asked for. There will be approximately a minute delay in between setting adjustments. It shouldn't be much longer."
"Good,” Reese said. “I don't think we will have to wait long."
"Wait for what?"
Reese didn't answer. Johnson returned his attention to the display and continued to adjust the display requirements as he had requested.
After a few moments of silence, Reese spoke. “Have you ever searched for something your entire life, then when you think you have found it, you have ... second thoughts?"
"I think so,” Johnson answered. “In my career I have been trained to do some unique missions. It's one thing to train for an operation, but quite another to do it. They're a world apart."
"You may be in for new surprises that I am sure you have never trained for,” Reese said, as he rubbed his eyes. He had not slept yet and the change in time had totally thrown his body off. “Is there any coffee?"
"There's always coffee in the military,” Johnson said and smiled. “But you look like some sleep will do you better."
"Later,” Reese said as he went to get some coffee. “You want any?"
"Sure."
Reese returned with two cups of coffee, handed one to Johnson, then drew up a chair and rolled it alongside where Johnson sat. Reese looked at the display on the large monitor. He could see the structural outlay of the ruins which glowed a low luminous green color. Other nearby areas reflected different shades and hues of the color green depending upon their degree of warmth.
"You should see some additional heat sources in the area,” Reese said. “I had some cattle driven in that direction."
"Cattle?"
"Food source, Lieutenant,” Reese said. “Try and keep them in the field of the display, especially the ones closest to the ruins. If there is any truth to our tale, the cattle will appear as if dinner just arrived."
"Got them,” Johnson said. He showed the outline of the animals to Reese, using his finger to trace the images on the computer screen. Reese was amazed how the cattle were easily visible—all due to a satellite that circled the Earth miles above. It was an interesting clash of time and history ... the new being used to track down the old.
"We'll have the images for about two hours. Everyone wants to use the satellite,” Johnson said. “I had to pull some strings to get it for this long."
"If anything is going to happen, it will be soon. If the creatures do exist, they will rise and feed shortly after sunset."
"Feed?” Johnson asked, as he looked at Reese with skepticism. Reese returned his gaze but didn't say anything as he sipped his coffee and watched the images on the monitor. Johnson was about to ask him again as he saw a very faint heat source register next to the cow, in the lower right corner of the display.
"Where did that come from?” Johnson asked. “It wasn't there a couple of seconds ago.” He pointed to the screen. “Maybe there's a problem with the sensitivity?"
"It's no problem,” Reese said. “I think we have company."
Just as Reese finished his statement, another faint spot emerged followed by two more, all of them appearing next to the cow.
"If we were not tuned to the extra sensitivity that you wanted, you wouldn't see these. Whatever they are, they're not giving off much heat."
"Not yet,” Reese said.
"Commander?"
"I'll explain later."
As seconds passed, the four spots grew and began to take shape. The cow seemed to disappear from the screen as its warmth dissipated.
"What the hell is it?” Johnson asked, as he turned toward Reese. “How can they just appear and grow warmer?"
Reese did not say anything; his gaze remained transfixed on the screen and the intensifying green images.
"Commander?” Johnson said. “What is it?"
But as Johnson returned his gaze to the display, he clearly saw the outlines of four shapes that were distinctly human in form. “That's impossible. They were not there before."
"But they were,” Reese said calmly. “You see, they did not appear on the screen in the human shape at first because there was very little heat from their bodies as they emerged from their hidden crypt. Their blood is cold and void of life. As they drank the blood from the animal, their bodies became warm and they could be detected. As time goes by, their heat will fade away as the coldness of their bodies overcomes the warmth of the newly acquired blood."
* * * *
Johnson did not say anything, but his thoughts resurrected images of Lestat and Louis from Interview with a Vampire. But he had never believed such creatures could ever exist. And now, here they were, as he watched the images move off and their green heat signatures fade away.
"Lieutenant Johnson?"
Johnson left his thoughts of vampires and returned to the present.
"Yes, sir ... I'm okay,” he said. “It just caught me off guard.” He returned his gaze to the screen. The satellite had moved beyond range, and the screen blanked. “There has to be another explanation."
"Do you have any ideas?” Reese asked. “Is there anyway that what you have just seen could have been faked?"
"They could have...” Johnson searched for an explanation. “Maybe they were wearing heat blockers when they emerged, then removed them later."
"And the cow, did it suddenly put one of these blockers on?” Reese asked. “And for what purpose?"
Johnson looked at Reese, but did not say anything.
"We're done here,” Reese said. “I think we've seen all we need to, right?"
"Yes, sir ... I think so."
"We need to discuss some tactics on how to proceed. You're the operator, but I can share what I know about the creatures’ dwelling, their habits and weaknesses. I want to be ready by 0600 for a mission briefing with the staff."
"Then what?” Johnson asked.
"We go below the ruins to where they live and find out what we are dealing with. Most importantly, we must ensure we have enough hours of daylight left, otherwise we may become the hunted."
Chapter Twenty
At 0550 local time, Commander Reese entered the conference room at the task force main headquarters building. Major Barkley and Lieutenant Johnson were there as he requested to confirm that they were ready for the operation; Colonel Antol would arrive in a few minutes.
Although it was difficult to actually believe what he had seen last night, Reese felt it was confirmation that something lived below the ruins. In accordance with his orders, it was time to move to the next phase. Johnson and he had discussed t
actics in a general sort of way, but Reese did not want to let him know the full extent of what he had planned, even though he suspected that Johnson had his own ideas for a search-and-destroy mission.
Reese had received confirmation from Commander Scott at SOCOM that General Stone concurred with his analysis and his recommended course of action. The course of action would be dangerous, yet he felt exhilarated at the possible wealth of information he would learn. Between considering military maneuvers and his own personal desires, his thoughts thwarted any chance he'd had for sleep.
"Okay, before the colonel gets here,” Reese started. “I want to make sure we are ready to...” He paused as he looked at the faces of the two men. He could see they were still bewildered by this whole concept of what they were undertaking, and decided to change his direction for the moment. “I know this all sounds weird as hell and something straight out of some nightmare from your childhood. But believe me, all indications are that we are dealing with an unknown species—some would call them vampires. I'm not sure what they are—but I want to find out. What we are about to do has never been attempted."
"And what exactly are we attempting to do?” Barkley asked. Reese prepared to answer but stopped as Colonel Antol entered the room.
"Good morning, gentlemen,” he said in a rather gruff manner. He looked toward Reese. “Commander, I received a call from General Stone telling me that you have a plan you wish to implement."
"Yes, sir,” he said sensing the irritation from the colonel. Reese felt pretty confident that General Stone didn't ask Colonel Antol anything, but rather told him what he was going to do. Further, knowing Stone and how strongly he felt about this mission, he probably told Antol that Reese would be in charge of the operation, even though Reese had asked that it be couched in a way to help maintain an air of cooperation with the colonel. Either way, the damage was done. Reese took a deep breath and spoke.
Operation: Immortal Servitude From Declassified Files of Team of Darkness Page 10