by Drew D'Amato
“These were Jericho’s,” Malachi said. He was staring at two silver-plated Desert Eagle .50 calibers—Jericho’s.
“They are for my second in command. That is you.”
“I am also your last in command.”
“Be that as it may, they were lucky for Jericho. He would want you to use them.”
Malachi looked down the sight of one of them. “Do you have the silencers for these?”
“Of course, but I hope we don’t have to resort to them. I doubt theirs will be silenced.”
“Well the building should be pretty empty tomorrow. But even if we catch them sleeping how did you plan to kill him, if not with the guns?”
Vlad went for the large duffle bag and pulled out his sword. “With this, the blade is made from pure silver.” He handed it over to Malachi and Malachi inspected the sword.
It really was a beautiful sword, none other like it in the world. The hilt was a dragon with four precious stoned imbedded into it. The dragon was gold and the wings of it made up the cross guard. Three precious stoned were contained in the grip. At the top above where the top hand would rest was a ruby. The ruby went through on both sides of the grip, coming out of both ends, cut in the shape of a diamond. It was about an inch in length from the top tip to the bottom tip. The next jewel was an emerald the same size and same length. The emerald was placed so that it would be between where the two hands would rest. Next was a sapphire, at the bottom of the hilt, resting below the lower hand. The last jewel, a diamond, made up the pommel. The pommel was the dragon’s head and inside the mouth was a large diamond. This stone was circular, a ball in the dragon’s mouth, an inch and a half in diameter. This stone was a princess cut, clearer than a piece of glass. Malachi could see the wall through it as he held the sword up to his eyes.
The blade itself, double edged, still shined its bright pure silver. The inscription was still clear, and took up about a foot in length on the blade starting right after the hilt. Malachi read it.
Cum hic mucro levo mundi de dominus hostilis.
“It reads, ‘With this sword rid the world of the Lord’s enemies’,” Vlad said.
“Good advice.”
Vlad put the sword back in the bag and walked over to the window to look out at the city below. “What time do you think we should leave tomorrow? I’m thinking maybe six, and get there around eight, so when we get there they’ll definitely be asleep.”
“You’re not estimating the traffic are you?”
“You think an hour earlier?”
“Just an hour? You forgot what tomorrow is didn’t ya? Christ, I was in a coma and I know. Why do you think I said earlier the building will be empty?”
Vlad was stumped. “My mind is a blank, what is tomorrow?”
Malachi smirked. “We should leave at four, okay, because we are going to have to worry about parade traffic. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.”
Vlad looked out the window and nodded as if his nod was to destiny and no one else.
“Of course it is.”
TWELVE
1
Cars packed the streets of Manhattan like a garage. Vlad and Malachi had decided to leave at five, just in case all of the holiday traffic wasn’t that bad. They learned sunrise was at 6:55. It ended being a very sunny, cold Thanksgiving. They didn’t want to risk leaving too early and finding themselves waiting around New York, with a car full of weapons, on a holiday when a major event was planned. They were sure New York cops did not take terrorist threats lightly. They did their best to not appear suspicious. Malachi wore a charcoal Versace suit with a blue Ralph Lauren tie, Vlad had on a black Armani suit with a red Windsor tie.
For the first hour it had been smooth sailing, it was still too early, but once they got into the state of New York the traffic started to pick up. When they went through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel and entered the city, there was mostly an exodus out of the city, but there were also some cars coming in, either for family or to see the parade. The traffic was bad in all directions once they got into the city, but they did not have much farther to go. Malachi checked the parade route on his BlackBerry and saw it was more uptown around 42nd street and not close to the 45-story building on the corner of Platt and Pearl St.
It was 7:30, the sun was out, but Vlad wanted to take their time anyway so he welcomed the traffic. He asked Malachi to find a church near the area. Malachi was stunned for a moment but most warriors—even sports figures—ask for a little prayer before a major battle. Malachi obliged and found one close by on William Street and he smiled.
“What’s so funny,” Vlad asked.
“You’re going to love this name—Our Lady of Victory Church.”
“Perfect.” Vlad smiled.
2
Malachi stayed in the car outside the front of the church to avoid having to park, while Vlad went inside. He was a little uncomfortable with this idea. He wanted his master strong, confident. He always took praying before a battle as a sign of weakness, even when he was a human. The strong don’t ask for help. Time is better spent strategizing. Now, a vampire was going into a church to pray. He hoped he didn’t touch anything that would make him weak. Vlad can’t falter now, there was no back up plan.
As Vlad walked up the steps he heard the hymns. He was surprised there was a mass in session. It was a holiday mass that started at 7:30. Vlad could hear the Kyrie being sung, all in the church asking for Christ and the Lord to have mercy. Vlad opened the door, hoping the prayer would hide the sound of his entrance. Once the door closed behind him, the mass had a moment of silence. A man got up to perform the second reading. Being noticed by as few as possible, Vlad went right and took a seat at the right most corner of the last pew.
Vlad spaced out as the speaker read. He took in the sight of the inside of the church. The church was white, bright white, with dark tan trim. It was modest, nothing compared to the place of worship he had just destroyed in Rome. The architecture did not have his attention, but the sea of followers did. Good people, he had to assume, and this was just a microcosm of how many good people there were out there in the world. Not Christians, just good people of any creed or race. Humans were sons of bitches, and the bad ones always managed to affect so many of the good, but there were still more good ones. He caught of glimpse in his heart of what it really meant to save the world, of how many lives he was actually saving.
To his left a nine-year-old girl, with straight brown hair and big eyes, read along in her lectionary. She looked up at Vlad, smiled, and then turned back to her reading. Her father looked ahead at the altar. Vlad sensed a vision of Jasmine at an early age. He smiled back at the child then turned forward, looked at the cross, and realized—today he would win.
He wasted no more time and made his way out of the church. Walking down the steps he thought of how much he had suffered, how much he had sacrificed, but it would not be for nothing. It would be for everything. Radu could not win. There were forces more powerful than he or his brother at play here. Malachi saw the confidence in his master’s eyes as he walked down the steps and felt relieved. He put the car in gear before Vlad opened the door.
THIRTEEN
1
The front entrance from Platt Street on the north wall of the building was unlocked. There was only one security guard. Vlad assumed this place always had someone on duty, but he also figured it would be a skeleton crew today. Vlad and Malachi strode over to the heavyset black guard at the desk.
“They got you working today,” Vlad said to him with a laugh.
“Yeah the only one, but just until twelve, still time for dinner. Martin got from noon until six…hopes his wife leaves him some leftovers. So who are you two here to see?”
“Ah, Rich…”
Malachi smacked the guard upside his head with his left hand. The guard was out cold. There was no other option and he would live. They couldn’t let him notify anyone of their arrival. Luckily it was Thanksgiving, no one was in the lobby, and no other guard on duty.
Not luck, fate…destiny. Malachi scooped up the unconscious body over his shoulder and they carried him to the right of the entrance up the west stairwell. There was another stairwell on the north wall, but that was an emergency exit. Opening those doors would sound the fire alarm, and the doors were designed to only exit into the stairwell. You could not open them to go onto other floors. The east wall had no elevators or stairs, just a wall of windows that allowed the morning sun to pour in. The west stairwell was the only option for them.
They got to the third floor and explored it. They dumped the guard in the first utility closet they found and used his own handcuffs on him around a pipe from the wall. Vlad put ducttape he found in the closet over the guard’s mouth and also used it around his ankles. Malachi searched the guard’s pockets and took out his keychain. He didn’t need to have the exact key. Malachi closed the door, jammed the key in the lock and then broke it off inside it. They would notify the authorities of this man’s whereabouts once they were finished. In a few hours, this guard would find himself alive and having a lot to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving.
They continued up the same stairwell, floating now, up to the 42nd floor. Malachi gripped Jericho’s two silver Desert Eagles in his hands when they got there. They still seemed strange to him. They were not his. Vlad unsheathed his sword from a scabbard under his jacket that he picked up during their stop in East St. Louis. He was about to open the door, when Malachi put a hand on his arm.
“Vlad, Richard’s apartment used to have windows all around it. They could have them all covered. They might not be sleeping.”
“It doesn’t change anything right now. Just be prepared.”
Malachi holstered the two Desert Eagles and took out his HK-MP5K. He twisted on its silencer. He noticed Vlad staring at him.
“If they are awake, do you really want to just have a sword on you?” Malachi asked.
Vlad nodded, sheathed the sword back under his arms, and took out his two gold Desert Eagles from his hips.
“You’re doublefisted, I’ll get the door,” Malachi said and grabbed the handle.
2
They entered the room and noticed that it was dark, not a trace of light in the place. Vlad and Malachi used their vampire sight to see what existed in the room. No furniture except for two rows of coffins on two-foot high stands that stood in the middle of the room. Twenty coffins, in two rows of ten. The coffins rested out horizontally in front of one another. They were two feet away from each other on all sides. The rows ran to the back of the room. Nothing was moving, not a sound, not even a feeling to the place. This would be easy, but the lack of light would cost their precious blood energy to be able to see.
They approached the first two coffins. Vlad put his gold Desert Eagles back in their holsters. He reached his right hand behind him over his left arm and unsheathed his silver sword from Hunyadi. He nodded to Malachi to open the coffin. The coffin opened with no problem. It was not locked for obvious reasons. Inside laid an unsuspecting Raduson. There was a gun inside the coffin with him. The Radusons had learned from last time. Vlad and Malachi looked at each other and both understood, be quiet and be careful.
Vlad turned back to the sleeping vampire. He looked oddly familiar but Vlad did not think much about it. He held the sword with his two hands over the chest, the tip of it pointing down over the vampire’s heart.
With this sword rid the world of the Lord’s enemies, read in Latin pointing down to the heart. The inscription placed on the sword at the time of the making of the weapon referred to the Muslims who were warring with Eastern Europe at the time. Now, more than half a millenium later, the intent of the inscription still held true, even though for a different set of enemies.
He looked at the unlucky bloodsucker. He knew Radu would not be in this room but he would never grow tired of killing Radusons. Plus, he would rather kill as many as he could before facing Radu. If any conflict occurred he only had Malachi with him. He had to lessen the odds as much as possible. He licked his lips, and in one motion he thrust the sword through the heart. The vampire disappeared before he even got a chance to scream.
“This might be easy,” Malachi whispered.
“Don’t even start to think like that,” Vlad said.
They went to the other coffin in the row and did the same thing, same outcome. Vlad had brought the sword for mainly this reason, to kill without making any noise. He also liked the idea of using this same sword to kill Radu, but that was just wishful thinking.
They finished all twenty of them. Twenty more dead vampires, but none of them the one they wanted. When the last one was killed they looked around the room.
“What do you want to do now?” Malachi asked.
“Go to the next floor and keep on killing.”
They walked back across the room and went to the stairwell. One floor down, three to go. They had to check all the floors and all the coffins. They were not leaving anything to chance.
When they entered the 43rd at first everything appeared the same, a dark room filled with coffins, and nothing else to be seen. Vlad looked to his right and saw a leather couch sitting there. This couch used to belong to Richard. Vlad figured Radu was still in the process of getting rid of Richard’s things before bringing in their own stuff. They probably got here right after they killed Jericho. Vlad felt Malachi’s hand tap his left arm like a kid warning his friend that an adult had found them. Vlad did not turn to look at Malachi but looked farther down the row of coffins. A figure sat on the last coffin on the left row looking at the two intruders.
Gabriel.
“Shit,” Malachi said softy.
Gabriel smiled. “Master has been expecting you,” he said.
Gabriel jumped backwards up in the air and kicked forward the coffin he sat on. The coffin fell forward and tipped over, and the vampire inside fell out. The coffin itself hit the coffin in front of it and that one in turn hit the next one knocking the entire row of coffins over like dominoes. The vampires in the other row then jumped out of their coffins at the sound of all the noise. The Radusons went the guns inside their coffins. Vlad and Malachi only had seconds to respond.
“Get back,” Vlad commanded, and he and Malachi ran back to the stairwell they came from.
Bullets ripped up the west wall right before they managed to get behind it.
“Fuck, what do we do?” Malachi asked.
“Hope there is no more of them.”
“Fuck hope,” Malachi said and took a grenade off his belt. He threw it through the doorway. The explosion killed three Radusons who were getting close to the door. Discretion was no longer an option. The cops would be here, but they still had some time.
“Get up to the next floor,” Vlad said.
The two of them ran up to the 44th floor.
“Keep your guns pointed down at them,” Vlad ordered.
Malachi held his gun over the railing at the door to the 43nd floor. Malachi shot and killed two more Radusons that tried to make their way out of the door.
“Just like the battle of Thermopolyae,” Malachi said.
“I’m not that old,” Vlad said and then opened the door to the 44th floor.
The room was empty. This had been Richard’s office where he did his business, but now it had been gutted. Nothing was in there, not any coffins or vampires. He smelled no vampires, this place was safe.
He went back to the stairwell to tell Malachi.
“The 44th floor is clear. Let’s get in there,” Vlad said.
“This is too easy though,” Malachi said as he killed two more Radusons who quickly tried to make it out of the 43rd floor door.
Then a grenade flew up from the lower floor toward Malachi. He dove into the 44th floor to avoid it. His machine gun fell out of his hands. The bomb exploded harming neither of them. Malachi looked up from the floor at Vlad.
“Yeah, real easy,” Vlad said and then ran back out into the stairwell.
“Where are you going?” Malachi asked f
rom the floor.
“I’m going to take out Radu, he has to be on the top floor. You keep these Radusons down here. I take him out, I take them all out.”
“So you get one, and I get fourteen.” Malachi smiled and stood up. “I like those odds.”
“Just keep your wits.”
Vlad ran up the next flight of stairs to the penthouse on the top floor. Malachi started to go for his machine gun that fell on the floor when he heard the ping of the elevator door to his right opening up. He turned and found Gabriel walking out of the elevator. The two of them locked eyes. Even in the blackened room they could see as much as each other’s pupils with their vampire senses. Malachi stood up, but he knew he could not make a move for his MP5 on the floor. He was sure Gabriel was armed and would get a shot off first. Malachi paced around the room, never taking his eyes off Gabriel, and Gabriel did the same, until they were both standing in front of each other, the length of the apartment floor between them, about fifty feet.
“Where is Radu?” Malachi asked.
“Where is Vlad?”
“Should we just wait for our masters and see how this all plays out?” Malachi said with a smile.
Gabriel smirked back. “No, while the fathers are away the boys should play.”
The tension between them was tangible. Malachi noticed Gabriel was not holding a gun either. What did he have planned? Gabriel brushed back his jacket. There was a .357 holstered on his hip. Malachi could hear the sound of vampires making their way up the stairs. He did not have much time. The showdown at high noon would have to end soon.
