The young commander of the ship, a naval lieutenant, approached Reese.
"Operation Red Blood accomplished, Commander?” he asked in a tone that reeked of superiority. Reese knew that the lieutenant had not been overjoyed with the assignment and the fact that Reese had been assigned operational control only made matters worse. He had an attitude that Reese was not in the mood for, especially at this moment.
Reese turned toward the lieutenant as he pulled the black mask off of his face.
"Never mind about my mission, Lieutenant,” he barked. “Just get us back to base as soon as possible, and remember, the area where my men are at is not to be entered by anyone except the Navy SEALs in my unit. Got that?"
"Yes, sir,” the lieutenant answered, surprised by Reese's assertive and unexpected abruptness.
Reese watched as the lieutenant returned to the bridge of the USS Cyclone. He knew the man would waste no time in giving the order to return to base to the officer of the deck so that they could put some distance between themselves and the island.
Reese looked at the black hood he held in his hand. There were dark blotches on it—apparent blood splatter from the earlier kills by the vampires. He had not seen it earlier and it served as a harsh reminder that no matter how far he tried to distance himself from the killing, he couldn't. He felt his stomach react uncomfortably. It made him think about the distinctly different perspectives that he and Dimitri had on so many things. Reese tossed the ruined hood over the ship's side and into the wake of the patrol craft as it picked up speed. As he watched the water, he drifted off into his thoughts.
How the hell had it come to all this...
[PAGEBREAK]
Chapter Fifty-six
The mission had been completed. Dimitri and his men were safely below decks and Reese remained on deck of the USS Cyclone. As the sun began its ascent into the sky, the redness of the sunrise reminding him of the color of blood and the way in which Dimitri and his men had killed the drug lord, his two women and many of the guards only hours ago. As he thought about what had just been done, he vomited over the side of the ship.
As he tried to regain his composure, Reese realized the time for thinking was done. He had to do something. What General Stone was doing was nothing like what would be described as a lawful order from a superior officer. At the same time, Reese knew he wasn't being naïve about the elimination of men who plied the drug trades. It wasn't the deaths of the drug dealers that bothered him, but that they had been killed without the use of the judicial system that bothered him more. He was no fool and knew the system was flawed, but Stone had allowed himself to decide the fate of who lived and died. And at what point would that reasoning be applied to other less-desirable people? Where would it all end?
And what about the creatures? They were now playing the role of executioner for Stone in order to survive. And his own role, didn't that make him responsible as well? Had he not played an important role in devising and implementing the attack? Was that right? Could he live for the rest of his life knowing that it was he who had been the catalyst? All he had ever wanted was to study the creatures, the myth and legends in physical form right in front of him, a dream of a lifetime come true but twisted for Stone's perverse crusade.
There had to be a way out of this.
What was he thinking? Was he even considering the thought of turning these creatures loose? What was the other choice? To kill them? However, if he chose any of these options, he knew Stone would show him no mercy. Reese would meet with an accident before he even reached any kind of legal proceeding against him. If Stone could do all of this without being detected by any government agency or other aspect of the military, getting rid of one lowly commander wouldn't be any big problem. Accidents happen, and at the disposal of Stone, Reese thought as he remembered the story that had been contrived to cover the deaths of the SEALs who had been killed in the capture operation.
The option of turning the creatures loose was not entirely without consequence either. What would they do? Would they kill indiscriminately as they had been taught to do so by Stone, or would they resort back to their cattle? Where would they live? This was not the Balkans. Reese rubbed his forehead in frustration. He had two days to decide what to do; that was how long it would take to get back to the base in Little Creek.
He went below deck to check on the creatures. As usual, there was a guard posted outside of the entrance to their quarters, the remote activation device securely attached to the belt. It was identical to the one that Reese had in his possession; the two-man rule was always followed.
"Everything secure?” Reese asked.
"Yes, sir,” the young Navy SEAL replied.
"Good,” Reese said, the weariness in his voice apparent. “I'm going to get some sleep. Wake me if you need anything."
"Yes, sir."
Reese turned and went to his stateroom. He lay on his rack, listening to the sound of the ship's engines and feeling the soothing motion of the ship as it cut through the smooth Caribbean waters. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a troubled sleep.
Reese opened his eyes and found himself sitting in a small room. In the chair across from him sat Lieutenant Johnson. He was dressed in his camouflage clothing that he wore on his last fatal mission. He appeared normal in all respects but one; in his chest, there were three holes in his uniform where the large round bullets had entered into him, leaving a hole about three inches in diameter for each one.
"What the hell...” Reese muttered.
"Commander,” Johnson said, in the emotionless greeting tone Reese remembered.
"You're dead ... you were killed on the mission!” Reese exclaimed. “This is a dream..."
"Yes, sir, I was killed,” Johnson replied.
"Then what is ... this?"
"This is to answer your question—he wouldn't do it,” Johnson said.
"What? Who wouldn't?” Reese asked.
"He didn't take me."
"Who—what are you talking about?"
"Dimitri didn't make me into a vampire. I asked him to—I begged him to, but he refused to do it."
"Why did you—"
"I wanted to be one of them. Since the first time I saw them, I wanted it. I think you knew that but you didn't say anything, perhaps because you had your own obsession with them."
"Why wouldn't he do it?” Reese asked.
"He said it was better this way."
"What did he mean?” Reese asked.
"Putting an end to it—all of it. But then, I'm just telling you what you already know."
"But how to end all of this is the question?"
"Give the general what he understands—death. You must leave no room for question or doubt,” Johnson said. “No room,” he repeated.
Then everything faded out.
Chapter Fifty-seven
It was almost 7 PM when Reese awoke with the image of Johnson still fresh in his mind. He knew the dream was not any kind of crossing over or visitation from the dead; it was simply his mind working though the issues in its own way. However, the image of Johnson had been somewhat nerve-wracking and its effect had left a profound feeling within him. Yet he had a good idea of purpose and he felt both exhilarated and scared about what he was planning.
He imagined the sun was just going down; Dimitri and his men would also just be waking. Reese thought how he had adjusted so much to their time schedule and nocturnal habits. He also knew that their working together had an even deeper effect upon each other, one that was about to change one way or another.
Reese hopped out of his rack and quickly showered. He then made his way to the small wardroom galley, where he had some coffee and ate some leftovers from dinner which were destined for those who were to come on duty at midnight.
After several cups of coffee, he felt ready to see Dimitri. Leaving the wardroom, he made his way to the creatures’ quarters, the desire to talk with them increasing as he got closer to them. He approached the hatch for their q
uarters and was greeted by the guards on duty.
"Sir,” one of them, said as they both came to attention.
"Are they awake?” Reese asked.
"Yes, sir. They just asked to see you a few minutes ago."
"Very well,” Reese said. “Let's see what they want."
The hatch was un-dogged and Reese entered into their quarters where he found Dimitri and his men sitting around a small table, obviously engrossed in some kind of discussion.
"Am I interrupting?” Reese asked.
"No, come in, please,” Dimitri said.
Reese entered the small area and sat in a chair that faced the three of them. Their faces appeared troubled; Reese wondered if perhaps the same issues that plagued him troubled them, too.
"I see,” Reese began, “that maybe you have been talking about the same subject I have been thinking about."
"And what might that be?” Dimitri asked, as his eyebrows rose.
"Putting an end to this,” Reese said simply. There was no time for any banter or philosophical issues. They had to get right to the point of the matter.
"Interesting thoughts, Commander. I would like to hear your point of view on the matter."
"You will, but first I have another question for you,” Reese said.
Dimitri looked toward Andre and Iliga, who rose from their chairs and moved away from the table. Dimitri returned his gaze to Reese, as if inviting him to proceed with his question.
"Before Johnson died, did he ask to become one of you?"
"Yes,” Dimitri answered, without hesitating.
"But you obviously did not change him. Why?"
"There is enough pain in this world. I shall not contribute anymore to it. Johnson was filled with anger from his past and if he were changed, he would have continued on that path. I decided a long time ago that if men are supposed to die at a certain time, then that is the way it shall be. I am not God, nor do I wish to play the role. What happened to my men and I was also fate in some way. I accept that and the role it has placed me in. I shall continue to live as long as I can; I do not wish to die, however I shall not make another vampire."
"So you're telling me you have some moralistic code you live by?” Reese asked.
"I have been telling you that all along,” Dimitri replied. “Our philosophical debates have not been whimsical by any means. We are not creatures that live without reason, as the general would have you believe."
"I do not agree with what you are being used for,” Reese said. “I was blinded by my own selfish desires to learn about you. I was not even aware until this mission what you were actually doing ... I assumed you were just spying on the enemy."
"The general has plans for a New World,” Dimitri said. “Everything will work a certain way-his way."
"Those are his plans, not mine or even the military's, for all I know. He is working totally on his own.” Reese paused, pondering the major question in his mind—would his idea work?
"You want to be able to live with the decision you make,” Dimitri said, as if sensing his thoughts.
"Yes,” Reese answered. “Suppose you were released, then what?"
"We would go home,” Dimitri said, without much thought. “This is a new world which wants to have everything explained. In Europe, there are places that would ignore our existence, as they have all these years."
"I don't know. There is another choice."
"Death?” Dimitri asked. “You must understand that we are not considering that option."
"But if you kill—"
"Why is this such a difficult concept for you to comprehend?” Dimitri said, interrupting him. “My kind has been doing this for all these years. Have you not thought that perhaps it is part of the complete cycle of this planet? Can you not believe that creatures such as ourselves do in fact have a place in civilization, as much as anyone or anything else?"
"What do you mean?” Reese asked.
"Your Hollywood has painted us as the evil creatures that kill and destroy life. Creatures that are of the dark. We hide from the light of God and truth because we are from hell itself.” He paused. “But what everyone misses is the one common factor that transcends all these years."
"And that is?"
"That we have been here since the beginning of time. You yourself have studied us through the literature that began as early as man's ability to write them down.” Dimitri paused for a few seconds, then said, “You still don't see it do you? What I suggest is that perhaps we are one of God's creatures, just as yourself."
"What? That's preposterous,” Reese replied.
"Is it now?” Dimitri asked. “Are you going to tell me that those men we killed, judged evil by numerous aspects of civilized society, are not God's creatures?"
"Of course, all of man is,” Reese said.
"What of the animals that kill in the wild, sometimes they kill humans, too. Are these not creatures of God?"
"Yes."
"Then why is it so hard to comprehend that we ourselves are creatures of God, put here on this Earth to play a role in the scheme of things, just as man does. We have feelings just as you do. Do we not hunger, do we not lust as you do? Do we not seek out friendship? We love, we hurt, we are happy, we are sad. Are these not feelings that you also possess?"
"No, I don't believe all that. I can't. What of the stories—the myths and legends that tell us of your destructiveness and wanton murder?"
"They are what they are. Fabrications of the period of time that they were written in, to entertain and amuse those that wrote them. Things that were not understood or explained by ordinary means were subjugated to the realm of the supernatural and became your myths and legends. Were not people burned at the stake for saying or doing things that were contradictory to what was commonly called the truth or doctrine of the day?” Dimitri asked, but answered his own question before Reese did. “Of course they were. So here we are; creatures that live not in accordance with the norm of the period, would we not be branded the evil denizens of hell?"
"I suppose it's possible,” Reese conceded.
"I cannot show you proof of what I am asserting, but even in your society today, prejudices still exists against those that are different in one way or another. It may not be in the depth of what it had once been, but it is still there."
"That's true,” Reese said. “But what you suggest is still a far stretch."
"You want proof, I have none to offer, only my beliefs of the world and the creature's within it. But then I ask you, is not religion itself only a theory? Can you show me proof that God even exists?"
"No,” Reese said. “I cannot."
"So you ask me what we would do if we were released? We would go on with our lives, as we have been doing before we were discovered. Because it is the things we do that make us what we are, and perhaps that is what we were meant to do all along,” Dimitri said with conviction. “You removed us from where we belong, but was that fate? Who knows.” Dimitri shook his head. “But the one thing that remains is that we have been on this planet as long as man has been, whether placed here or created by one of the creatures that God also put on this Earth. If there is logic to what happens in the world, the natural assumption dictates that we fill some role that we were destined to whether right or wrong."
They sat in silence for a few moments.
Reese had come here to give Dimitri the opportunity to explain his own thoughts in the matter and he had. The question that remained was could Reese live with what he knew had to be done. He looked into the eyes of the vampire with feelings of admiration and fear. There was a certain undeniable logic to his argument that Reese could not deny. Baring all religious aspects from the discussion, for they were always the most controversial and biased, everything else pointed toward the conclusion that Dimitri had argued, with the exception of perhaps one point.
Mankind had overwhelming and consistently used the media of literature and film to portray these creatures in a certain light dependent upon
the social climate of the society. What Reese wondered was why had the vampires been used, instead of some other form of expression? Why had they become timeless over the centuries? Was there some other driving motive of the use of these creatures he didn't understand? Or was it, to use Dimitri's term, their fate? Was it God's will that they be the figure used to portray the good and bad in society?
"Dimitri,” Reese said. “Answer me one question."
"What?"
"What is the goal of your existence?"
"Goal?” Dimitri asked.
"Yes. What do you see as your prime motivation to live?” clarified Reese.
Dimitri looked upon Reese, his eyes unmoving. “Like every other man, to find our purpose in the grand scheme of life."
Reese smiled. “Yes. We are alike in many ways, aren't we? We all must have purpose, our own destiny to fulfill."
"And yours?” Dimitri asked. “What is your purpose? What do you want?"
"What I want and what I must do are two completely different things. I guess there is a difference after all in the way we look at things."
"How so?” Dimitri asked.
"You have time to wait for things to happen. On the other hand, we mortals do not have that luxury. We must decide among the existing possibilities for the greater good."
"Commander,” Dimitri said. “For the first time since we have met and talked, I do not understand what you are trying to say. Perhaps it is something that our length of life no longer permits me to understand?"
"Perhaps,” Reese agreed. “But now is not the time for such discussion. I have a plan I want to talk with you about but it will require that you trust me implicitly. Can you do that?"
"Our lives are in your hands,” Dimitri said simply.
Chapter Fifty-eight
The USS Cyclone was two hours from entering port at the Naval Amphibious Base Little Creek, under the darkness of a moonless night. As Reese walked onto the bridge of the ship he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness and the glowing red lights of the equipment. As his vision improved, he saw the young lieutenant, the ship's commanding officer, looking through a pair of night vision binoculars, scanning the ocean for any other craft.
Operation: Immortal Servitude From Declassified Files of Team of Darkness Page 29