Area 51_Nosferatu

by Robert Doherty

  “Not only that,” Nosferatu continued, “but a part of Section IV from the KGB— the Russian equivalent of America’s Majestic-12—knew from the Nazi documents that a particular strain of blood was important and began to see if it could find more. Deep under Moscow, there is a chamber that contains what Aspasia’s Shadow brought to the SS and what was scavenged out of the concentration camps by the SS and by the KGB during the Cold War from prisoners at Lubyanka and in the Gulags. If you agree, it will be your job”—he inclined his head toward Adrik—“to use your resources to recover this. I believe you have the power to do it.”

  Adrik made no commitment, waiting to see what else the Eldest had to propose. “Two.” Nosferatu held up another finger. “The Ones Who Wait. They were like us—half-human, half-Airlia—except cloned. They had some of the virus, which accounted for their extended lives. I know where we can find some of their bodies. Intact and preserved.” He turned to Tian Dao Lin. “This will be your responsibility, my old friend.”

  “And where would I find these preserved bodies?” Tian Dao Lin quietly asked. “Mount Everest. Where Merlin took the great sword Excalibur so many years ago. Several Ones Who Wait were recently sent by Artad to recover the sword and failed. Their bodies are still up there. Frozen. Three of them.”

  Tian Dao Lin steepled his fingers as he considered this.

  “And the third source?” Adrik asked.

  “That is most important and most difficult to get to,” Nosferatu said. “Pure Airlia blood. Preserved. Waiting to be harvested.”

  “Where?”Tian Dao Lin was leaning forward, his interest obvious. Adrik was also edging forward in his chair.

  Nosferatu pointed up. “The first mothership from Area 51. Aspasia’s. The one the human soldier Turcotte destroyed when Aspasia tried to return to Earth from Mars aboard his Talon spacecraft.”

  “How will one get to that?” Adrik asked. “The American shuttle fleet was devastated during the recent war and it is not likely they would kindly allow us to use one anyway. Russia’s ability to launch a manned mission into orbit is practically nonexistent after recent events.”

  “I have something in the works,” Nosferatu said.

  The other two waited. Nosferatu pressed a button. Vampyr’s face disappeared from the computer screen and was replaced by a picture of a stubby, delta wing craft on top of a large rocket. “The X-Craft,” Nosferatu said. “A reusable, two-man, orbital vehicle. The launch platform is an Ariana 4 rocket. The X-Craft has thrusters for maneuvering in orbit, and it can land on any landing strip that can take a 747. One of my subsidiaries has been developing it for over twenty-five years. We’ve dropped it from altitude—manned—and successfully landed it. The only thing we haven’t done yet is launch one into orbit.”

  Tian Dao Lin frowned. “The Americans only destroyed the mothership a month ago.”

  Nosferatu smiled. “My original plan—before recent events—was eventually to have a manned mission go to Mars. The X-Craft was the first step to a second generation of craft built in orbit capable of reaching Mars, landing, and getting to Aspasia and the other Airlia in deep sleep there at Cydonia.” His eyes shifted to Tian Dao Lin. “Along with a simultaneous expedition into Qian-Ling to reach and destroy Artad and his followers. I estimated that both missions would be possible in twenty years and we might be able to defeat the Airlia while they slept. Recent events have caused me to adjust my plans and my timetable, with the follow-on objective becoming the number one priority.”

  Tian Dao Lin chuckled. “That is why you had me pull strings to get Professor Che Lu permission to enter Qian-Ling when it had been forbidden for so long. I knew you had something long-range in mind.”

  “I have been planning for thousands of years,” Nosferatu said. “But the technology was never sufficient. However, in the past fifty years or so human technology has advanced greatly. And the fortuitous events of the past year now allow us unprecedented opportunity with much less risk much sooner than I had anticipated.”

  “The Airlia who died on the Talons inside the mother-ship’s cargo bay would have bled out into space,” Adrik argued.

  “Most of their blood, yes,” Nosferatu agreed. “However, I have had simulations and experiments done and they indicate there would be some residual blood left in the bodies. Not much, but if enough bodies were harvested, there would be a sufficient supply to make it worth gathering, especially as it would be pure.” “Even if we recover all this blood, pure and mixed,” Adrik asked, “how will we be able to extract the Airlia virus, then purify our blood with it? How will we get rid of the human portion of our blood? And the human portion in the Ones Who Wait and the blood gathered by the SS and KGB?”

  “The Americans have done us a favor in that regard,” Nosferatu said. “They were delving into this very problem at the secret Majestic-12 lab in Dulce, New Mexico, where the former Nazi, General Hemstadt, was working after the war under the auspices of Operation Paperclip. One of his projects was perfecting a blood-purifying device, most likely on orders from Aspasia’s Shadow and the Mission and under the cover of AIDS research.

  “This machine removes all of a person’s blood and replaces it with a freezing solution that cleanses the circulatory system completely. While this is happening, the body is chilled to keep it viable. Then the machine injects the new, already warmed blood and the body is brought back to normal temperature. The entire process lasts only about three minutes. The subject’s blood is replaced one hundred percent.”

  “Dulce was destroyed,” Adrik noted.

  “Recovery of the device will be my task,” Nosferatu said flatly.

  “And if we agree to help you and recover all this Airlia blood virus?” Adrik asked. “What do we do with it?”

  “I estimate that we will have enough to make four Undead immortals,” Nosferatu said.

  “You would give the fourth to Vampyr?” Adrik asked. “No,” Nosferatu said flatly.

  “There are only four Undead still in existence,” Adrik said. “No,” Nosferatu said, “there are five.”

  Adrik absorbed this startling bit of information with a sharp glance at Tian Dao Lin.

  “There is another Undead here at the Haven now,” Tian Dao Lin said. “Who is this?” Adrik frowned. “Where is he?”

  “She sleeps,” Nosferatu said simply. “Who is she?” Adrik demanded.

  “That is not your business,” Nosferatu replied.

  “Why not make a deal with Vampyr with the blood for the fourth?” Adrik suggested.

  “As I said, the fourth is accounted for,” Nosferatu said.

  Adrik folded his arms. “I will tell you what I believe. I think you knew you could only recover enough blood for four and you invited Vampyr here first and when he declined, then you invited me. If Vampyr had accepted, I would have been the unlucky fifth.”

  Nosferatu met the other’s gaze and the two stared at each other for a long minute.

  “What about the Watchers?” Tian Dao Lin asked, an abrupt change in subject. “The Watchers are defunct,” Nosferatu said, still staring at Adrik.

  “All of them?” Tian Dao Lin pressed. “Including the Watcher-Hunters?” Nosferatu shrugged. “There might be some of them left, but they are only a nuisance. They consider taking a quarter a great success, which is all they have ever achieved these many years. Any that ever came close to any of us perished.”

  “And Vampyr?” Adrik asked. “You said he will be pursuing these same things to get the blood?”

  “Yes,” Nosferatu said.

  “That is why you really need us,” Adrik said. “To fight Vampyr.”

  “Yes,” Nosferatu admitted. “With my X-craft, I believe I can recover enough blood from the Airlia bodies on the mothership to make two of us immortal. So I could achieve this without the two of you. But I think it would be wise for us to band together.

  “I can assure you that if Vampyr recovers the Airlia blood, he will not share it with you,” Nosferatu said. “He cares for nothing
other than his vengeance. Without the Airlia and their followers to hold him in check, I fear he will go after the blood and, in the process, destroy us.” Nosferatu stood. “I believe we are headed for the final confrontation. Please reflect on the situation and let me know your decision when I return.”

  Nosferatu went out through the heavy wooden door, swinging it shut behind him. He walked down stone steps, deeper into his lair. Nosferatu came to a steel door. On one side was a retinal scanner and he pressed his eyes to it. When the computer recognized his pattern, the door’s bolts withdrew and it slowly swung open.

  The room he walked into was a crypt. In the center was a raised platform upon which rested a black metal tube. Surrounding the tube were dozens of plants and small trees, a veritable oasis of greenery underground.

  Nosferatu went up to the tube, placing his hands gently on the lid. He leaned forward until his head was next to the front. Inside was the fourth Undead at Haven.

  “Soon, my love,” he whispered. “Soon we will finally be together forever.”

  Puget Sound, Washington

  The girl had never been in a helicopter before. She was seventeen and had been working the streets for only a month. So far the experience had been quite terrible, but things looked like they were taking a change for the better, much better to judge by the luxurious interior of the aircraft. She had the entire back to herself, the pilots shielded from her by a dark glass partition. The windows were also blacked out and it didn’t occur to her to wonder why. She was too interested in the leather captain’s chairs, the state-of-the-art stereo system, and other accoutrements that adorned the passenger compartment.

  The man in the limousine, claiming to represent someone very rich, had picked her up off the street over four hours earlier, just after dark. Instead of a hotel, he’d taken her to a clinic, where a silent doctor had examined her. Two thousand in cash up front had been enough for the girl to allow herself to be poked and prodded and two samples of her blood taken and tested. Along with the promise of another eight thousand for the rest of the night if she passed all the tests.

  Apparently she had, as she was given a pair of expensive slacks, with matching top, along with low-heeled shoes to put on. Then she was hustled back into the limousine, driven to the airport, and loaded onto the helicopter. The man who had picked her up had told her nothing more than the amount she was being paid when he put her on board and shut the door behind her. She’d felt a moment of anxiety then, but the wad of cash in her cheap purse, the only thing of hers she still had, had put that feeling at bay. This was much safer, in her opinion, than the front seat of some of the cars she had climbed into during the past month.

  The sound of the helicopter’s engines picked up slightly and she felt her stomach flutter as the aircraft descended. It landed with a slight bump. The door slid open and one of the pilots stood before her, gesturing for her to get out. She climbed out and was surprised to step into knee-high grass. The pilot slid the door shut, then climbed back in the front.

  The girl looked around. She was in the middle of a small field, barely big enough for the helicopter to land in, surrounded by tall trees and the blackness of the space underneath their branches.

  “Hey!” she called out. She went to the pilot’s door and banged on it with an open palm.

  In response the engines whined and the blades picked up speed, blasting her with cool night wind. She backed away and held her hand in front of her eyes to protect them as the helicopter lifted straight up, then disappeared, the sound slowly fading away.

  After a minute all she could hear was her own rapid breathing as she turned slowly in a circle, searching for any sign of civilization, a road, a building, anything. But there were only the trees.

  “Hello?” she cried out. “Hello?”

  Silence. Total, absolute silence, which truly frightened her. She’d grown up on a farm fifty miles outside of Seattle and been out camping with her friends several times. The girl knew there were always sounds in the forest. Birds. Insects. Animals. Something was always making some kind of sound. But here there was nothing, as if there was nothing living within miles other than the vegetation. It was unnatural.

  The girl took a step back, then spun about, fearing someone sneaking up from behind. The trees were huge. Old forest, hundreds, maybe thousands of years old, that the environmentalists were always campaigning to save. She had no clue where she was. They hadn’t been in the air that long. Fifteen minutes? “Hello?” she cried out, her voice cracking halfway through the word.

  “Please.”

  The girl took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but succeeded only in nearly hyperventilating. She went down to her knees, not caring that the designer slacks she had marveled over not so long ago were getting stained by the grass. She clasped her hands over her mouth, trying to bring her breathing under control. After several minutes, somewhat back to normal, she got to her feet and took a closer look at her surroundings, as much as she could see given that the moon had not yet risen. She looked up at the small patch of night sky above, then she looked down.

  The ground sloped, presenting her with a choice. Go up or down? She looked at the dark wall of forest that surrounded her. Or stay in the clearing until daylight?

  She started as she realized there was someone standing on the edge of the clearing to her right. How long had he been there? she wondered as she took several steps away from him. And why hadn’t he answered her calls?

  “Hello? Sir?”

  She could make out little detail, but he appeared to be dressed all in black. Pants, shirt, long, flowing coat. With dark hair and white skin. Very white skin that almost seemed to shine, as if lit from within. She took another step away from him.

  “Sir? Could you help me? Please?” Was this some sort of bizarre sex game? she wondered. Was she supposed to do something? The man in the limousine hadn’t told her anything, and neither the doctor nor the pilot had spoken a word. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

  The man held up a hand, indicating for her to remain still. The man came forward until he was less than five feet from her, just out of arm’s reach. She tried to smile and stood slightly straighter, thrusting her chest out. She would do anything to make it through this night, she told herself. And she silently promised to get the hell out of Seattle and go back to her hometown on the first thing moving as soon as she was back in civilization.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked once more. “Run.”

  The voice as much as the word sent a chill up her spine. She had never heard such a cold voice.

  “What?”

  “Run or I will kill you here. You have a chance in the woods.” Then he laughed.

  She turned and sprinted for the forest, losing a shoe in the first five feet and not even noticing.

  The man remained in the clearing, watching as she disappeared among the thick tree trunks. He gave her a few minutes, knowing the running would get her heart pounding and the blood coursing through her veins.

  He cocked his head, listening to her crash through the undergrowth. She was easy enough to track by sound, even without the benefit of his exaggerated night vision. He started after her. He silently made his way through the forest, passing her without being noticed, then moving to a point where she would come shortly.

  The shock on her face when she bumped into him was exquisite. She gasped, staggered back, then dashed off in another direction. As she ran off, he put a hand to his jacket and touched where her sweat and tears had made a small wet spot. He rubbed it with the tip of a finger, then brought that finger to his nose, inhaling. He smiled at the familiar scent of human fear.

  He intercepted her five more times over the course of the next three hours. Sending her blindly off into the forest each time, redirecting her. She was moving more and more slowly, but still moving. He’d had some just quit. Drop to the ground and curl in a ball whimpering. Such were almost not worth taking. Almost.

  An hour b
efore dawn, the girl came out of the forest, emerging onto a perfectly cut lawn. She fell to her knees as she looked about. The moon was finally up, and she could see a magnificent house about fifty meters ahead. A mansion stretching almost a hundred meters left and right, sitting on a promontory overlooking Puget Sound. She could see the lights of Seattle beyond the house, on the other side of the water. The Space Needle. Her hometown was beyond the city, in the mountains. It was a beautiful night, a clear sky, and she could see the white-topped peaks.

  She scrambled to her feet, crying out for help. She ran toward a wooden door set at ground level and pounded on it, screaming, looking over her shoulder, afraid he would appear at the last minute.

  The door swung open and she threw herself into the arms of the figure in the darkened hallway.

  Then screamed as she recognized her momentary savior as her pursuer.

  He held her tight as she fought to break free with the little energy she had left. He leaned his head close to hers, his breath on her neck as he whispered to her, like a lover would.

  “I was made Vampyr, in the First Age of Egypt, during the reign of the Gods, when they walked openly upon the Earth, the son of the God Amun and a human High Consort. I bring you honor by taking you.”

  And then he did just that.

  Minutes later Vampyr looked down on her pale corpse.

  With one arm he lifted her and carried her a short way down the tunnel to a two-foot-square iron door set at waist height. He opened the door and threw the body in, listening to it tumble as it fell down the old mine shaft for over three hundred feet before landing with a splash in a flooded cavern. He shut the door.

  Then he made his way farther along the tunnel, stopping at a stainless-steel door. He placed his forehead against a rubber buffer, pressing his eyes against the scanners. His retinas were checked. Then he entered a code only he knew on a numeric keypad, his fingers flying over the keys faster than any human could ever hope to imitate, entering twenty-seven numbers in the appropriate sequence in less than four seconds. Last, but not least, he removed what appeared to be an old-fashioned key from a chain around his neck and inserted it in the keyhole. While the key looked old, it was state-of-the-art, sending the correct electrical impulse to the last hold on the door’s locks.