by Drew D'Amato
“Father, no.”
“I have lived a long life. I have survived a war. If I can’t die for the sake of the world, how can I ask that of you?”
Vlad still wanted to oppose, but he looked into Pacami’s eyes and knew he was for real. This man was a warrior himself. He was ready to die. Vlad still tried to argue it.
“Maybe the answer isn’t with the Blood. Maybe that’s the lesson we have to learn here and why the exorcisms don’t work? At the end of the day we should choose to not use this power to defeat evil. We should trust God will save us.”
Pacami put his hand on Vlad’s and tried not to sound condescending.
“Vlad, I have been in war. I have seen horrors, rapes, and other atrocities. I am a man of the cloth, but I have been sure of this for years—God does not get involved.”
Vlad looked at the priest, shocked to hear such an assumption. Pacami saw he owed it to him to expand on that.
“The gift we have is free will. Our lives are shaped by our decisions. What would this world be if God helped the side that was good to win wars and criminals regularly received justice? Good is always rewarded, and evil is always punished?”
“It would be perfect.”
“It would be a fraud. People would do what they do because they are assured they will be rewarded. There would never be any genuine sacrifice, character is what you do when no one is watching. They would all know they were being watched and would be good just for the beneft in it. No true test of good and evil. Because of this, He does not get involved—ever.”
“Then what good is He?”
“To guide you with your decisions.”
“Father, you became a priest because of your deal with God. Why did you carry through on your end if you didn’t think He had anything to do with it?”
“Oh, He had everything to do with it. True, I would have survived without ever making that deal, but I still decided to make it. What saved me though was not the deal with God, or His divine power, but that I did a Christian thing. I picked up a fellow wounded soldier. A bullet that pierced his leg would have shot through my neck and killed me if I wasn’t carrying him. I lived not because he used some force to make the bullet miss me, but because I had done what he would have wanted me to do. That is only how He gets involved. He influences us.
“And what I am saying here is again His influence on me. I am an old man with not many years left, but you have true love ahead of you. Why should I ask you to give up your life and not mine? God wants us to be selfless. Neither of us asked for this, but it has to be done. If I have to, I will drink the Blood.”
2
Warburton waited for them in his car outside Heathrow wearing his No. 1 dress uniform that Vlad had requested. It was the formal uniform for members of the MPS. It was four in the afternoon when they landed. Vlad led Pacami to the rear of Warburton’s car in the parking lot. Pacami put his bags in the trunk. Vlad brought his bags with him into the backseat. Pacami then instinctively opened the front right door of the car. A moment of awkwardness passed between the two as Pacami almost gave Warburton a lap dance.
Vlad introduced the two: “Father Pacami, meet Detective Chief Inspector Louis Warburton of Tower Hamlets.”
“Nice to meet you,” Warburton said awkwardly.
“You, too,” Pacami said from above him.
Pacami went around to the other side. Warburton took off once everyone was inside.
“We have to hurry,” Warburton said. “He closes his shop in an hour, and it’s going to take us half an hour to get there. He is an older man, fifty something, full head of grey hair. He appears very suave. What do you guys have planned? If need be, I can get my hands on some sodium pentathol.”
“We are not going to interrogate him. We are going to trade with him.”
“What makes you think they would trade the Blood for just the book? I’m sure they have a translated copy.”
“They do, but we are just trading for a chance to see the Blood. We will take it from there. All I want from you is to walk in five minutes before us and shop, look for something for your wife.”
“You don’t want me to speak to him at all?”
“No, not at all. The Crusaders don’t allow for loose ends, even if it means killing a cop. If they feel you know anything about the information inside the Dark Bible or anything about the Blood, they will approach you. You either join them or die.”
“But I’m a cop.”
“They only approach cops. They kill anyone else, they can’t use them.”
“So why do you want me to even come in?”
“Because they still value discretion. He may be less inclined to pull anything on us if a cop is also in the store.”
“That’s why you told me to wear my dress?’
“Yes.”
Warburton’s No. 1 dress uniform consisted of black trousers, a white shirt, navy tie, and a black fleece with his badge on his shoulders. The MPS wore their badges as a black epaulette. Vlad noticed the three Order of the Bath pips and no name.
“Good, you didn’t wear the one with your name,” Vlad said.
“You didn’t have to tell me that. I was going to use a fake name if I had to.”
“It won’t come to that. You are just here to limit his options. I don’t want you in the crosshairs of these men. I want to protect my investment.”
“Investment?” Pacami asked.
“I don’t have many cops that are indebted to me.”
“How?”
“He saved my life, that’s how we met,” Warburton answered. “I was just a constable, on foot, alone, answering a call of gunshots in this old building by the docks. I get to this open, abandoned building and find three men flying through the air, and another four jumping to different levels fighting back at them. All of them with firearms. I didn’t have one.
“Stranger than this, when a man died they disappeared into nothing. I was in shock. I couldn’t move. In what seemed like just seconds there were now only two figures left. My radio went off, and one of these figures dashed toward me. He was blond. He looked like the Russian in that Rocky movie. Instantly he had his arm around my neck, and a gun to my head.”
“That was Smythe,” Vlad said opening up his luggage.
“And the other figure was Vlad. Smythe, wanted Vlad to let him go or he’d kill me. Vlad didn’t hesitate. He drew his gun that was down by his side and shot Smythe right between his eyes. I heard the bullet enter his head right by my ear. I turned and saw a shot that was a sure kill for humans, heal right in front of my eyes. Next thing I felt was someone grabbing me from behind and flying me up into the air.”
“Do you have what I asked for?” Vlad said to Warburton.
“Right here.” Warburton grabbed a brown bag with something heavy in it from the center console and gave it to Vlad.
“Well, he flew me to a rooftop and told me his story. He told me about his war against Radu. He didn’t have to convince me, I saw which side saved my life. He asked that I, of course, kept this a secret to my grave, which wasn’t a bloody problem because I didn’t know who the hell would have believed me. We kept in touch over the years. I help him out when he travels over here, and if he can help me with a tough case he does. He’s not a bad detective himself. He got Jack the Ripper.”
Pacami looked back at Vlad.
Vlad smiled and then cocked a Walther P99. “These guns are kind of small.”
“They were the best I could find that were untraceable, and with a silencer. I told you their were Walther P99’s, what did you expect?”
Pacami looked over the seat to see what Vlad was doing. He was taking out silver bullets from his luggage and loading them into a second Walther. “You’re coming armed?” Pacami asked.
“I always do. We don’t know what they may have done with the Blood already. The first gun is loaded with regular bullets, but this gun will be loaded with silver just in case. Hopefully we won’t have to use any of them.”
&nbs
p; “Why not just all silver rounds?” Warburton asked.
“In case they are not vampires. People are noticing these silver bullets lately. I’m going to try to avoid any more suspicion then I have to.”
Vlad started to twist on the silencer. Pacami turned back around.
“So how were you introduced to Vlad?” Warburton asked Pacami.
“Same thing as you, saved my life, flew me up in the air, yada yada yada,” he answered.
3
Warburton walked into Favorite Things in his No. 1 dress uniform. The place had no customers which was good for them. There were fifteen minutes left until closing. The walls were painted a lime green but you didn’t see much of it. The walls were basically bookshelves filled with rare first editions or shelves that held items of different significance from places all over the world, and different times throughout history. There was an Edison cylinder phonograph, and next to it one of the first Hess Christmas toy trucks. A weathered broadsword from the Middle Ages juxtaposed with a stock ticker. Behind the aisles and random display stands stood Henderson, a tall, grey haired, good-looking man at a glass counter in the back corner. There was a closed door behind him.
Warburton tipped his peaked cap at Henderson, “Just brosing for now.”
“I’m closing in fifteen.”
“No problem, just let me know when.”
Henderson noticed the three pips on the cap. Henderson wondered if he was from Paddington.
Pacami and Vlad entered next. Pacami wore his black shirt and collar and a satchel over him. Vlad had on jeans and a navy blue fleece. Under the fleece in the back of his jeans he had both guns, with their handles pointing out, making both of them look like a capital T. Right silver, left regular, he tried to remember. They both went to Henderson.
“How may I help you?” Henderson asked as they got close.
Pacami put his backpack on the counter and took the Dark Bible out. Henderson’s eyes focused on the leather brown cover and the imprint of the Order’s insignia. “Have you seen this before, Mr. Henderson?”
“No, what is it?” Henderson played dumb.
“Sorry, I must have mistaken this with another place.” Pacami turned around to leave.
“Wait, let me clean up my back room. I can research anything and give you a price. Looking at the age of it, I can offer at least five thousand—American dollars.”
“You have no idea what it is, and yet you’re willing to offer me five thousand—odd. Anyway I don’t want a price, I want to talk to a person who has seen this before. You have not, so what is the point?” Pacami turned back toward the door.
“Wait, let me clean up my backroom.” Henderson nodded at Warburton, hoping Pacami understood, and then went through the door behind the counter. Vlad looked at Warburton, and instinctively gripped the handle of the gun with his right hand behind his back.
The backroom had a small table in it, a television, a refrigerator, sink, and a bathroom in the farthest back corner. Henderson was on his cell phone calling Bandini.
“Bandini here.”
“It’s Henderson. A priest from America just came into my shop with the Dark Bible.”
“Are you sure?”
“I can’t be positive he is a priest, but that is the Dark Bible, I saw the emblem on it. What do you want me to do?”
“Is he with anyone else?”
“Someone else, he looks like he is forty.”
“Did you size him up?”
“Yes, he looks tough but not immortal. I saw both their reflections in my glass counter.”
“Can you take them out?”
“I don’t know, there is a chief inspector in the shop too.”
“Is he with them?” Bandini asked concerned.
“No, he came in before them. He’s just browsing, probably just in the neighborhood. He might be from Paddington.” Paddington Green was the top security station for all of the UK. Terrorists were sent there, the Guantanamo Bay of England.
Bandini exhaled frustrated. “Get them away from the cop and find out everything they know. Radu said the Bible was destroyed.”
“Well Silverado, Radu does lie.”
“Find out what he knows, keep me on speakerphone. I may want to have some input.”
Henderson put the phone on the table and left the backroom.
“Come in,” Henderson told Pacami and Vlad.
“Why can’t we talk out here?” Pacami asked.
Henderson glanced again over at Warburton.
“Fine, but my nephew comes too.”
“Okay.” As Pacami crossed past Henderson who waited at the doorway Henderson introduced himself using his real name and held out his hand.
“Father Humphrey,” Pacami said and shook back.
“I’m his Nephew, Duke,” Vlad said from behind them.
They did not shake hands. Vlad instead noticed the door to the bathroom and immediately made a move toward it. “Is this a bathroom?”
“Yes,” Henderson said and put his hand down by his side.
“It was a long flight… can I use it?”
“Sure.” Henderson closed the door to the backroom behind him. Warburton, now alone in the store proper, turned off the neon OPEN sign.
Vlad walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. He kept the door open to hear anything Henderson might try. Nobody was hiding in here, and there was no door leading anywhere else. He flushed the toilet and then came out.
Pacami was just starting to sit at the table across from Henderson. Vlad noticed the BlackBerry also on the table. It was in the middle of a call. Good, someone was listening, we got their attention. Vlad sat down next to Pacami.
“I came across your card the same way I came across this book and a translated version of it. It is written in an ancient codex, so I figured you were the one who translated it, since items of antiquity are your specialty,” Pacami said.
“Yes, I did translate it. I was paid cash under the table so I didn’t want the Inspector to hear it.”
“Is that why you closed the door, or is it because you are a Crusader?”
“A what?”
“A Crusader? This secret group working out of the Vatican that hunts down vampires.”
Henderson laughed, “No, that’s preposterous.”
“Oh, so you have no connection to them. You were only asked to translate this because the codex is so complicated you are one of the few in the world who can break it?”
“Yes, that is exactly right. It’s a mix of Old Babylonian, Greek, and Latin.”
“It is the exact same codex that was used in the Larmenius Charter.” Vlad looked at Pacami surprised at him knowing this information. “The charter that states that the Grandmastership of the Templars transferred from Jacques de Molay—who was thought to be the last Grand Master and burned at the stake in 1314—to Johannes Larmenius. He was to start the second phase of the Order and lead them through a Dark Period. They then became the Order of the Dragon. Any scholar familiar with this codex—which is also the same codex the Knight of Templar normally used—could have solved it. Even I know a bit of it from my studies of the Templars. You are far from the only one who could have done it. But I think you are the only one who knows the codex and is a Crusader.”
“Enough about me,” Henderson was defensive. “Why don’t you explain how a priest from America got his hands on this book when it was last in the possession of a vampire?”
“That vampire was the one who gave it to me.”
“Why did he give it to you?”
“Because he wanted me to perform the exorcism on him that is discussed in here. The vampire was Prince Vlad Tepes III, and he never intentionally drank the Blood, so he was succeptible to the exorcism. He found me alone last Sunday night when I was done with my services. He proved his powers to me and told me he wanted to be a human again. He would have forced me if he had to, but he didn’t. How could I, a man of God, not take away the power of a vampire if I can? I was still s
cared of what they had intended for me afterward so I brought my nephew along with me.”
Henderson looked over Vlad. “He would have been able to stop vampires?”
“I wasn’t afraid of them before I performed my service. I was afraid of what they would do to me afterward—once they had no more use for me. He is a veteran of both the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars. He had just gotten out of the service two years ago at the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. He is battle tested, and knows his way around a fight. I felt safer having him there.”
“So Vlad is a human now?”
“Let me explain. The next day after I performed the exorcism—and obviously they let us leave without any harm—I got a call from one of his underlings. They picked me up and rushed me to his house. They took me to the bathroom, and in there I found Vlad dead in the bathtub. He had slit his wrists.”
“He didn’t want to live as a mortal man?”
“It is not that. He was only a human for a day and realized the power of a vampire was too much to give up. He decided to become a vampire again. He drank the Blood of the Betrayer that he had also acquired. I’m sure I don’t have to explain this Blood to you?” Henderson nodded in agreement. “Well he drank the blood and then you have to die to become a vampire. So he killed himself, only he was not reborn.
“I told his underlings I wish they had told me about this before he did it. Suicide does not allow one to be reborn a vampire. It is a permanent damnation. They said they didn’t know he was doing it. They just found him like that. He had drunk all of what was left of the blood. They were upset, but didn’t care enough to do anything to me. Maybe they were just too shocked, because they didn’t even ask for the Dark Bible back.
“They themselves had never read the Dark Bible. If they did, they would have known suicide doesn’t prevent one from becoming a vampire. The Dark Bible has more than a few accounts in it of Templars falling on their sword after drinking the blood, and being reborn a vampire. I knew the truth, and what I concluded was that the Crusaders who they took this blood from never gave him the real blood.”
“Excuse me Father, what did you say your name was?” came from the speakerphone of the BlackBerry.
