by Jeff Schanz
“Well, sir – that’s just it. I think he might have guessed it was us a couple of days ago.”
The Russian’s head turned, lifting his eyebrows.
Alex continued. “I believe he put on a show for our benefit two days ago.”
The Russian turned completely to face Alex. There was a dangerous edge in his voice. “Excuse me?”
Alex was hoping a well-disclosed explanation would keep him from being thrown overboard. “I watched him – dance. He pretended to dance like Michael Jackson.”
“Why the hell does that have anything to do with him knowing we’re here?”
“He, uh –was showing off intentionally and there was no one around. It was very deliberate. He was in the middle of the island, by himself. And at the end, he – dropped a pretend microphone.”
The Russian was not amused. “And you think that’s significant enough to screw with everything we’ve been planning?”
“No, sir. Not necessarily. But I thought you should know.”
The Russian sighed heavily. “And why am I only hearing this now?”
“Well, obviously it sounds ridiculous, and at the time I wasn’t sure it was anything more than Dekker just behaving childishly. But since I saw him with binoculars staring at us, I think he was mocking us that day.”
“I see.” The Russian turned back to the direction he had been staring before. “I don’t care if he drops his pants and moons us, we’re not changing our plans.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Russian was silent for a moment, simply staring ahead. Then he said, “I’m not going to fuck this up again. The last half-ass plan got three men slaughtered, wasted time and money, and almost tipped our hand. Has he built any defenses that you can see?”
“No, sir. Not that we can see. Dekker keeps his boat hidden in a cave, but otherwise, there’s no activity.”
The Russian shifted his head side to side. “If he knows we’re watching him, then he’s hiding his defenses. Mr. Dekker, what are you up to?” The Russian paused for a moment and then turned his head slightly. “Anything else?”
Alex thought for a second. “No, sir.”
“Fine. Dismissed.”
Alex bowed slightly but didn’t leave. He shifted forward to look where The Russian’s attention had been directed.
The assassin leader, whose team had been hired to kill Dekker and search the islands, was lying on a bed in the medical cabin. His name was Tobias, if Alex remembered correctly. Tobias had sustained what should have been fatal wounds to his neck and arteries. It was essentially impossible that the man had survived. Yet, there he lay, still alive, a breathing tube protruding from his neck. He had not only survived but had swum out to Alex waiting offshore. Alex knew all too well how powerful the elixir dose can be, yet the proof of it was still amazing. And it also irked Alex that Tobias had been given the stuff. Usually, only the privileged circle had been granted its use. The Russian must have his reasons.
Alex had been The Russian's right-hand man for six months, now. He had taken over from the previous man who had been killed by Dekker. And in that time, Alex had seen things that were unnatural and impossible. All his notions of reality had been discarded in his first week, and he was a changed man both mentally and physically because of it. The Russian had given Alex an entirely new life, literally, with a new outlook. And Alex would give anything to continue it. Tobias had no idea what he had walked into and had found out the hardest possible way. But now Alex and The Russian's men knew exactly what they were facing. Any illusion that a simple three-man extraction team would achieve the desired goal was gone. The next attempt would benefit from a very specific and well-constructed two-tiered plan. Alex was in charge of it, and with Tobias' information, and the little bit of long-distance recon they had just done, he felt confident in the next attempt's success.
Tobias couldn’t talk, but he had scribbled the information on a pad of paper. Alex understood even the strangest of the recorded details. The survival of Tobias didn’t matter. When they got all the information from him that they could, they would destroy him. The mercenaries were expendable. And though there were many more coming, those would be expendable too, and would likely be destroyed afterward. The last group of mercenaries had been given the elixir in order to enhance their effectiveness, but they would never have been allowed to stay alive afterward. Only The Russian’s inner circle were allowed that.
Alex would run this operation himself and give The Russian the thing he had been trying to get for so long. And when that was done, Alex would be truly rewarded and he looked forward to it.
“Is there something else, Alex?”
“No, sir.”
Alex was fine with being dismissed. He had work to do.
CHAPTER 22
Brandt didn’t remember falling asleep. He hadn’t even undressed. Fatigue had caught up with him in spades, and he must’ve sat down on his bed and collapsed. It was late morning when he awoke.
His first concern was to find out how Lia was. Even if she was fully recovered by now, he assumed she’d be inside somewhere because of the strong sun at that time of day. He found her in her bedroom.
He knocked. “Lia? It’s me. Can I come in?”
There was a long pause before she answered in a frigid voice, “Yes.”
Brandt entered her room and saw her reclined in her bed, propped up with several pillows. There was an open book across her stomach. As he entered, she grasped the edge of the blanket and brought it up to her neck. Yup, she hates me.
“Hi, Lia. Just checking on you before I head down to the beach. You look great.”
She did. Her cheeks were the same pristine cream color with a healthy pink tint that he had remembered the last time she had fed well. He couldn’t see anything else of her since the covers were pulled so far up, but he assumed if her face looked that healthy, the rest of her would be equal.
She said nothing to his comment. She glared at him like he was a stranger in her room.
Brandt tried to ignore the icy reception. He slid a chair close to her and sat down. She shrank away subtly.
Brandt adopted his patient military demeanor. “Listen, I know you’re probably upset with me, and for that, I want to say I’m truly sorry. But you’re here in this bed, alive and well, and I am just so happy to see that you’ve recovered. Whatever you think of me, seeing you well is worth it. I hope you’ll forgive me for the mush I said up there.”
Lia closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I am not bothered by anything you said, Mr. Dekker,” she said with an edge to her voice. “Even in my condition, I could sense the obvious deception in your mind.”
“Oh? Good. I’m glad. It was such nonsense anyway. Pretty obvious I was not trying to seduce you, or anything. I just needed your fangs…”
“Yes – my fangs!” snarled Lia. “Fangs to take human blood that I told you was a cardinal sin to me. A code that I have lived by for one hundred years, Mr. Dekker. Something that I would rather die than ever violate. And you made me break that rule.” She gave him a hostile stare, then turned her head away in dramatic soap opera fashion.
Brandt had dealt with far worse accusations than this and he wasn’t fazed. His blood rose only slightly. What little of it he had left.
He kept his composure. “I am truly sorry you feel that way. And again, I understand that you are upset about it, but given the same circumstances, I would do the same thing again. In order for you to be upset, you have to still be alive, so I’ll accept that outcome.”
“Will you? So, it’s ok for you to make whatever decision you want, and if someone else has to deal with the aftermath, well that is just too bad for them?”
Brandt kept calm. “I made a difficult call based on a difficult situation. I stand by that decision. If I didn’t give you my blood, you absolutely would have died. I didn’t see another choice.”
Lia turned to him again. “Well, there was another choice. A
s I’ve said, and you were aware, I would have rather died than feed on a human. And I stand by that decision.”
“You dying was not an acceptable outcome to me. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Well, that’s something I’ll have to live with now. You have decided for me.”
“I was not letting you die. Period.”
“I have lived a long life, Mr. Dekker. If I died I could have accepted it.”
“Well I fucking can’t!” shot Brandt.
He didn’t think his patience was near its breaking point, but that last comment from her hit a nerve. Lia flinched in her bed. Her indignation was replaced by shock.
Though Brandt tried to compose himself, something had already snapped. All the memories he had been trying to hide were leaking out. “Listen, princess, if you wanna die, you can do it when I’m gone. You think I’m selfish? Well, so are you. Why the hell did you save me, huh? Did I ask you to? You couldn’t let me die, either. Maybe I didn’t deserve to live. Maybe I had accepted my death. Maybe I would rather sacrifice myself than put my friends and family in danger any longer. But I’m here anyway and I’m glad. I’m glad you made that call. You saved my life and now I’m saving yours. I don’t know what you’ve been through, and you don’t know what I’ve been through. I had a cardinal rule, too. And my rule was that if only one of us was coming off that mountain, it sure as shit was going to be you.”
Lia swallowed something like pooled saliva. She blinked once and couldn’t seem to find the words to respond.
Brandt didn’t allow her the time. “I’ve lost a lot of friends, Lia. A lot! And I would gladly trade my life for any one of them. And that includes you. I would’ve given you every drop of my blood if it would’ve saved you. You want to hate me? Fine. But I’m your friend Natalia Zakharyina, and I did what I had to do to keep you alive. And I’d do it again.”
He sat still and met her cold eyes without blinking. Lia was stunned to silence and her hands absently let go of her covers, the blanket edge falling to the top of her chest. She was wearing a simple white slip with shoulder straps. Brandt wasn’t interested in looking at her, but subconsciously he was glad to see that her shoulders were back to their perfect smooth complexion again.
Brandt had almost said his peace, but not quite. “It took a long time for me to forgive myself for being alive. You helped me do that. So I understand better than you think. And when you decide to forgive me, and forgive yourself, you know where I’ll be. I’ve got work to do.”
He stood up and didn’t look back as he exited her door. He knew he had been harsh, but he had a code that he wasn’t willing to break either. And he would trade his life and her friendship to keep it.
Back in his cave, Brandt’s mind got back to focusing on simpler tasks. His body had recovered enough to do what he needed to do, and the first thing he needed to do was get the boat into the water. It was far easier to tip the thing back up and push it into the water than it was to pull it out and tip it on its side.
The boat groaned as it pressed against the wet dirt. Eventually, the new paint's slick surface allowed the hull to skate over the surface and slice into the water. The boat wanted to cruise away from the shore, but Brandt held the guide rope, gently pulling the boat back to where it touched sand. Wading out a few feet, he climbed over the bow.
Brandt had candles available to check the bilge and all areas of the interior hull. He carefully went over every available inch. No leaks so far.
While he waited, the boat drifted, and Brandt let it get to the center of the lagoon before tossing the anchor. He sat on the little bench inside the wheelhouse and propped his feet up, reading the book Lia had given him. After an hour of reading, the stupid fools on Christie’s island were still dying, and it was time to put the book away. If any leaks were going to happen, he’d see them by now, so he checked again, and double-checked. He rubbed his finger on the tarred wood.
No leaks. Everything was perfectly dry.
Brandt should have been ecstatic about his success at fixing something he had no idea how to fix a few days ago, but his energy spike had faded and he felt tired again. Not so much physically this time, but mentally. Tired of everything. He had not violated his own cardinal rule, but somehow he felt like he had, and possibly lost his friend after all. He had brought Natalia down alive, but his Lia might’ve died up there. And Natalia would still be relegated to a life of loneliness and solitude. Had he done the best thing for her, or for him?
Brandt nudged the boat’s nose on shore and began work on erecting the mast. He had disassembled it prior, drilled all the holes, and measured where the bolts would to be. Everything was ready. All he had to do was assemble it on the trawler.
He worked the remainder of the day. The mast went up as he had expected. The rigging of the sails was difficult and burned through the hours, but that, too, went to plan. There was just the tedium of screwing it all down. Once done, he stepped back into the middle of the deck and looked it all over. The pulleys and knots were tested. The sail went up and down without a hitch. The boom moved left and right with no hindrance.
The little trawler wouldn’t be a pretty sailboat, nor would she be agile, but she wouldn’t complain. She’d get to wherever she needed to go. And she had the little outboard engine to guide her into her slip in a marina when she arrived. She was ready and able to take her cargo to its desired destination. A proud little craft.
The natural light from the cave mouth was significantly dimmer than it had been when he started. It was probably time to start dinner, though he wasn’t in the mood yet. Instead, he decided to lie down in the forward cabin area to rest. He wasn’t dizzy anymore, but considering how much blood he had lost to Lia, his body’s stamina would require more time to rebuild.
He again argued with himself whether saving Lia’s life was more for her than him. In the end, it was the most important ingredient of his humanity: his friends’ lives were worth more than his. I’d do it the same way again. He did the right thing and believed it. He wished Lia did. However, he did understand her resentment, perfectly. There was just nothing else he could do about it. He understood something else now, too: The necessity to truly forgive himself for his past, just as he was asking Lia to forgive herself. You can’t say it and not do it.
His mind was occupied with self-deprecation and he had no idea that someone was standing nearby. Well, not quite standing.
Lia knelt next to him. Suddenly noticing her, Brandt almost hit his head as he sat up.
She said, “Careful.” She adjusted herself lower by curling her legs sideways under her skirt. “There’s not much room in here to sit up, is there?” she remarked.
Brandt blinked and rubbed away the mental fog. “Uh, no. It’s made to sleep or store things. Not much else.”
She nodded and smiled. It was an easy smile. Her anger seemed to have dissipated. She not only looked fully healed but radiant. She shifted her legs again, this time to lie on the ground, facing him.
“Once you lie down, it’s all right. Perhaps a blanket would help,” she said, glancing around the cramped cabin.
“It might. The previous owner only used this space for storage. I cleaned it out. It wasn’t easy.”
“It smells like paint,” she said. “But it’s clean. You did a good job.”
“Thanks.”
Lia reached out a hand and rubbed Brandt’s arm for a second, her touch remaining oddly cold rather than the warm charge he usually got from her skin contact. She sighed and gave him a solemn smile. “I am so sorry, Brandt. You were right. As you said, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I understand that it has shaped you, just as my past has shaped me. I am very grateful I am alive. Forgiving you was easy, and it is already done. Forgiving myself is harder, but I will try. I am glad you are my friend, Brandt. And I will never forget that again. Thank you for saving my life. And thank you for being my friend.”
“You don’t need to thank som
eone for being your friend. It’s just what friends do.”
She took her hand back and crossed it over her chest, then laid her head back and closed her eyes. She seemed to be imagining something. When she opened her eyes again, she turned to him. The solemn smile got a little brighter.
“I know the things you said to arouse my fangs to come out were a deception, however it wasn’t completely false, you know,” she said.
“What wasn’t?”
“Your blood is in me now. It’s like you’re alive inside me. I can feel your essence.”
“You can?” Brandt wasn’t sure how to take that. “Seriously?”
Lia couldn't contain a quiet laugh. “No. I am teasing you like you do to me to make things less awkward.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Did it work?”
Brandt grimaced. “I can’t decide if my influence on you is a bad thing or a terrible thing,” he said. “But, yeah, it worked.”
“Good.” She turned back to stare at the roof, which was just the covered bow. They said nothing for a moment, then Lia sighed loudly. “There is one more sensitive thing I would like to share.”
“Ok.”
“When I was twenty-two, my father had arranged for my marriage to a young human man in his late twenties. Vasili Kushkin. He was handsome, smart, and came from a family with good status. We had talked before briefly, which was all the courting customs allowed, and had decided that we could agree to the marriage. I was young and was so excited that any man wanted me. I was too old to be unmarried anymore, but we had been in hiding for several years, and it was difficult to find someone for me. Vasili was not a vampyre and did not know I was one. My parents feared that if I married another vampyre, we may both be hunted. It was best to try and conceal who I was from society. Aristocratic ladies rarely went outside anyway, and pale skin and parasols were fashionable. I could make excuses for my eating habits because things like fainting and mysterious sicknesses were common among women.
