by Will Hill
They spread out, searching every square inch for blood or signs of violence, but found none. They regrouped in the middle of the huge room, and raised their visors.
“Whoever did this is gone,” said Jamie. “I think they took some of the residents with them, but they’re gone. There’s nothing for us to do here.”
“Agreed,” said Kate. “We should get out of here.”
Larissa opened her mouth to concur, then her eyes suddenly exploded with a red darker than Jamie had ever seen before, a red that was almost black. She fell to her knees, her fangs involuntarily sliding into view, her nostrils flaring, her head twisted back and her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“What’s wrong?” shouted Jamie, dropping to his knees beside her, and grabbing her shoulders. “Larissa, what is it?”
“We’re… dead,” she gasped, her throat convulsing. “He’s… coming.”
“Dracula?” asked Kate, her voice tight with terror.
“No… it’s—”
Then the ceiling above them exploded, and the three Operators were sent crashing to the ground by a torrent of tumbling lead and flying plaster.
Larissa was the first to her feet, before the thick cloud of dust began to clear. The paralysis that had gripped her was broken, and a guttural growl emerged from her throat as she hauled Jamie and Kate to their feet.
“Stay behind me,” she said, softly. She was staring into the swirling dust at the far end of the room. “Both of you stay behind me.”
“What’s going on?” asked Kate. “What is it, Larissa?”
“Be quiet,” Larissa hissed. Her head was twitching to the left and right, like an animal searching for a scent on the air. She had thrown her helmet aside, and Jamie and Kate did the same; the visual filters were useless in the dense dust. Jamie put a placatory hand on her shoulder, and manoeuvred them both in behind Larissa.
“There,” whispered Larissa, raising a single finger.
In the direction she was pointing, two dark shapes could be seen through the thinning cloud.
“Identify yourself!” shouted Jamie, pointing his T-Bone at the taller of the two figures. “Identify yourself right now!”
A laugh floated through the dust, a high laugh full of genuine amusement. Then the last of the dust settled, and Squad G-17 saw what had caused the wide hole in the ceiling above them, through which a handful of stars could be seen.
“Oh God,” whispered Kate.
Standing before them, less than four metres away, was Valentin Rusmanov.
His pale, elegant face was instantly recognisable; the face of one of the three most wanted vampires in the world, one of the three Generals turned by Dracula himself more than four hundred years ago, a face that was now smiling warmly at the three black-clad figures standing before him.
“I flatter myself that the looks on your faces mean you recognise me,” he said, his voice soft and smooth. “However, a gentleman always introduces himself. I am Valentin Rusmanov, and this is my associate, Lamberton.”
He extended a thin arm, clad in the sleeve of an immaculate navy blue suit, and the second figure stepped forward. It was a vampire in his fifties, clad in an equally beautifully tailored tuxedo. He dipped his head in a perfunctory bow, then stepped back a respectful distance behind his master, next to an utterly incongruous pile of elegant, dark leather luggage.
“You, of course, are Jamie Carpenter,” said Valentin, and red flickered momentarily in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know your companions, however. Perhaps you would be good enough to introduce us?”
“Certainly,” said Jamie, staring at the ancient vampire, his heart racing in his chest, his mind screaming at him to stall for time. “These are Department 19 Operators Larissa Kinley and Kate Randall.”
“A pleasure to meet you both,” said Valentin, smiling widely. “And a genuine, long-awaited delight to meet you, Mr Carpenter. You look very much like your grandfather, did you know that?”
Jamie frowned, disarmed by Valentin’s friendly tone. “My grandfather?” he asked.
“John Carpenter,” replied Valentin. “He was only a few years older than you are now when I met him for the first time. He was a somewhat unexpected guest in my home in New York, not much less than a century ago. He was extremely brave, which I’m told is something you and he have in common. Or have I been misinformed?”
“Why don’t we find out?” growled Larissa. “Or are you just going to bore everyone to death?”
Valentin stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing.
“Oh, my child,” he said. “I’m not here to fight with you. If I wanted you dead, surely you realise that you already would be?”
“Then what do you want?” asked Jamie, stepping forward. “Why are you here? Why did you do this to these people?”
A momentary look of confusion passed across the ancient vampire’s face, before realisation dawned on him.
“You think I attacked this place?” he asked. “My dear Mr Carpenter, you must think so little of me. No, the vampires who did this departed more than twenty minutes since. I can take you to them, if you wish to destroy them?”
“Why would you do that?” asked Jamie. “They’re your own kind. They’re the same as you.”
Valentin’s face clouded with anger. “There is no one the same as me,” he hissed. “No one.” Then his smile returned. “I just thought you might be interested. That is what you do, after all, is it not? Destroy vampires?”
“That’s what we do,” said Kate, firmly.
“Indeed. And I’m sure you all do it wonderfully well. But I’m afraid you are no match, no match whatsoever, for what is coming. Which is why I’m here, enjoying this pleasant conversation with you all.”
“We know what’s coming,” spat Jamie. “We know about Dracula. Why aren’t you at his side where you belong?”
“Because I choose not to be,” replied Valentin, smoothly. “I choose instead to be here with you three fine young people.”
“Why? What do you want from us?”
“I want to help you, obviously.”
“Stop talking in riddles!” shouted Jamie. “Tell me what you want!”
Valentin’s smile disappeared. “Mr Carpenter, I have no intention of spending the foreseeable future fighting a war that will likely result in the deaths of the majority of the people on this planet. I enjoy my life, and to be entirely honest with you, I enjoy people. They are so admirably determined.”
“And?” asked Jamie. “Where do we come in?”
“I’m offering you a deal,” replied Valentin. “I’m offering to help you defeat Dracula, and my dear brother. Once they are destroyed, you will give me complete immunity from the attentions of your organisation, and all its equivalents, in perpetuity. I want to be free to continue to live my life, for as long as it lasts.”
“Never,” growled Larissa. “We will never give you a licence to murder innocent people.”
Valentin smiled at her. “Believe me, little girl, the tiny number of souls that I require to fulfil my appetites pales into insignificance compared to the thousands and millions who will die if Dracula is allowed to regain his full strength.”
“I don’t care,” said Kate, and the strength in her voice almost broke Jamie’s heart. “That’s not what we do. Ever.”
“Really?” asked Valentin, his voice as slippery as a snake. “I see something in your friend’s eyes that tells me he thinks differently. Don’t you, Mr Carpenter?”
Jamie’s stomach squirmed, as he realised that the ancient vampire was right.
He was thinking about it, thinking how if what Valentin was saying was true, then the youngest of the three brothers’ power could help to even the odds. He was thinking about what would happen if he arrived at the Loop with the world’s third oldest vampire beside him, promising to help them defeat his master. But he was mostly thinking about Dracula; he had seen Alexandru Rusmanov up close, felt the elemental power of the ancient monster, like a terri
ble force of nature, and his stomach was churning at the thought of a vampire who was allegedly so many times worse.
“Jamie?” said Larissa, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him to face her. “Tell me you aren’t considering this? Please?”
Jamie looked over her shoulder, to where Kate was staring at him with an expression of disgust, then back to his girlfriend’s pale, crimson-glowing face.
“What if he’s telling the truth?” he replied. “If we don’t find Dracula and Valeri before Zero Hour, then we’re going to need all the help we can get. He could be useful.”
“You’re right, Mr Carpenter,” said Valentin, from behind him. “I could be.”
“We can’t trust him, Jamie,” said Larissa, her voice full of pleading. “We could never, ever trust him. Not for a second.”
“I know that,” said Jamie. “Of course I know that. But I destroyed his brother, and he’s standing here talking to us. Maybe he means what he says.”
Behind Jamie, Valentin’s eyes flared momentarily red at the mention of the destruction of Alexandru. “Listen to him, girl,” the ancient vampire suggested. “He is your superior, is he not? I trust the youngest Seward made him so for a reason.”
Valentin, who had more than four centuries of experience at reading people and situations, had chosen his words carefully, and they had exactly the effect he had intended. The mention of Jamie’s rank hit Kate and Larissa hard, and their faces betrayed them; Kate’s mouth curled down at the edges, as though she had tasted something extremely sour, and the red light in Larissa’s eyes dimmed as she released her grip on Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie saw it all, and felt his heart harden.
To hell with you then, he thought. It’s not my fault. I didn’t ask for any of this.
“I believe him,” he said. Kate and Larissa opened their mouths to protest, but Jamie never gave them the chance.
“Enough!” he yelled, his voice astonishingly loud in the empty room. Surprise burst on both of the girls’ faces, their eyes wide, their mouths perfect circles. Jamie had never spoken to either of them in such a way, and neither of them had been prepared for it. He saw his chance, and pressed his advantage.
“I’m the leader of this squad!” he shouted. “Not either of you! Me! If you have objections, you can make them back at the Loop. If you want to file a complaint against me, I’ll take you to Seward’s office myself. But for right now, just SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET ME DO MY JOB!”
He stared at them, his breath coming in harsh bursts, like a panting dog. Adrenaline was coursing through him, and he was hoping that one or other of them would challenge him.
But neither girl said a thing. Larissa and Kate just stared at him, expressions of painful disappointment on their faces. He returned their stares for a long moment, then turned back to the end of the room.
“Valentin Rusmanov,” he said, and the ancient vampire inclined his head. “I’m placing you under arrest, for transportation to the Department 19 central facility. The decision to accept or refuse your offer is not mine to make, and I give no guarantee as to what that decision will be. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” replied Valentin, a beaming smile rising on to his handsome face. “I am confident that I can convince Mr Seward of the merits of a truce between us.”
“Good. I doubt our usual restraining harnesses will have much effect on you, but I’m going to ask you both to wear them anyway, as a show of good faith, if nothing else. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all, Mr Carpenter,” said Valentin. “It will be our pleasure.”
Jamie led his squad and his prisoners back into the corridor, and down the stairs to the second floor. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he was starting to feel sick about the way he had spoken to his friends. But it was too late to do anything about it now; he would just have to hope that the journey back to the Loop would give them enough time to begin to understand why he had done what he had.
“Kate,” he said, as they reached the doorway to the second floor. “Please can you go and collect Ted from his room?” There was a note of pleading in his voice, which he hated, but if Kate heard it, she gave no indication. She didn’t even look at him as she pushed through the door and disappeared down the corridor. She returned less than a minute later, leading Ted by the hand. The old man was looking at her with an expression that was close to love.
He didn’t think she was going to come back for him, realised Jamie, looking at them. He told her he believed her because he knew she needed to go. He didn’t think she meant it.
They made their way down the stairs, a ragtag collection of humans and vampires. Larissa, Valentin and Lamberton floated above the linoleum-covered stairs, the two ancient vampires wrapped in the black crosses of their restraining belts. Jamie, who had the cylindrical detonator in his hand, Kate and Ted, who could have flown but didn’t yet know how, took them slowly, one at a time. Valentin and his servant were talking in low voices, as were Kate and Ted. Larissa was staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed anywhere other than on Jamie, who descended alone.
In the cold air of the delivery yard, Ted began to shiver, and Kate wrapped her arms more tightly round him. Valentin watched her, a look of fascination on his face. Jamie led them out through the gate, to where their van was idling on the tarmac, waiting for their return. As they walked towards it, Jamie heard raised voices at the end of the alley, and turned in their direction.
“Helmets,’” he said, instantly.
The three Operators slid their sleek black helmets back on to their heads and watched as a policeman bustled down the road towards them, the two officers who had spoken to them trailing behind him. He was a large man, and his stomach swung heavily from side to side as he approached in a fast walk that was almost a run. He started to shout when he was still several metres away from Jamie.
“Stop right there!” he demanded. “Stop, I tell you!”
He reached the strange collection of figures that were standing beside the van, and as he caught his breath, he looked at them, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” he spluttered. “Or who the hell you spooks are working for. But I’ll be damned if you’re going to come into my town and—”
He got no further.
Jamie lunged forward, grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him hard into the wall. The two other policemen recoiled, as Jamie squeezed his fingers deep into the fat of the man’s neck.
“Question me again,” he snarled, “and I will make the rest of your life a misery. Do you understand me?”
The policeman gurgled something incomprehensible; his eyes were full of terror as he stared at the blank purple visor in front of him.
“Do you understand?” Jamie repeated, anger coursing through his veins like liquid fire. “Nod if you understand. Nod right now if you—”
Then suddenly his feet were no longer on the ground, and his grip on the policeman’s neck slipped. He was hauled into the air, where he dangled impotently; he could not see who was holding him, and he bellowed to be let down, to be let down immediately. For a moment, nothing happened, then he was gently lowered back to the tarmac of the alleyway.
He spun round as soon as his feet touched the ground, and was shocked to find himself staring into Larissa’s pale, beautiful face. She had never used her supernatural strength on him, not even on the first day they had met, in the park near the canal in Nottingham, the night his mother had been taken from him. But she had used it now, and she was looking at him with an expression of such concern on her face that he almost had to turn away from it.
“Jamie,” she said, softly. “This isn’t you. Why are you acting like this?”
He stared at her, his face burning with anger and embarrassment, then shoved her aside and strode towards the van. He slid open the doors, climbed up into the vehicle and ordered everyone else to do the same.
Larissa cast an expression of despair at him, but stepped into the air and floated slowly to
wards the van. Kate led Ted in the same direction, as Lamberton slid smoothly into the air. He was the second one inside the vehicle, landing gracefully in one of the moulded seats and looking expectantly at Jamie.
But Jamie didn’t return his gaze; he was watching Valentin Rusmanov.
The ancient vampire was staring at the brick wall beside the wooden gate they had emerged from, where two familiar green words had been painted. As Jamie watched, Valentin took a deep breath. Then his eyes flashed red, so quickly that Jamie barely saw them change, and he spat on the graffiti.
Less than a second later he turned to Jamie, his eyes already back to normal.
“Shall we go?” he enquired politely, and floated up into the van.
20
MASTER AND COMMANDER
Valeri Rusmanov stood rooted to the spot and watched with rising panic as his master destroyed his study.
Dracula’s rage – a churning, elemental fury that burned so brightly it had once called something dark and terrible out of a dimension other than our own, that had condemned thousands of men and women to agonising, indecent death – boiled out of his pores like a cloud of hungry fire. He had asked only a single question after Valeri had passed on the news he had received from his informant inside Blacklight, news that he was still struggling to come to terms with himself; the unthinkable revelation that his younger brother Valentin had betrayed them, had voluntarily sided with Department 19 against them.
“Is your man sure?” Dracula had asked.
Valeri, his heart gripped with fear at the likely outcome of his reply, had nonetheless told his master the truth.
“Yes, my lord,” he had replied. “He says his information is one hundred per cent reliable. Valentin has gone to them.”
There had been a moment of silence, in which Valeri had felt the air thicken and begin to shimmer. Then Dracula had leapt up from the sofa on which he had been convalescing for almost three months, and let loose a bellowing howl of outrage that had blown out every window in the study, sending the glass tinkling on to the lawn outside in a jagged, glittering rain.
