This was torture for him. He had to leave, and he had to leave now. He couldn’t think straight. As he was about to sink his fangs into her neck, he finally stopped himself. “No. … Stop Alex. …” He pulled her hands off of his body and sat up. “I’m not going to take advantage of you in this condition.” He pulled himself off the bed. He trembled for want of her body, but he pulled up his jeans and fastened them.
“It’s okay. I want you to stay.”
He stood there shaking. He refused to look at her as he gained control of his desires. “I’m going to make you something to eat. Just lie down. Stay in bed.”
“Bed is always good.”
“Yes. And you need your rest.” Knowing he’d have to lock the door behind him when he left, he asked, “Do you have an extra set of keys to your house?”
“Hmm? … ah. Desk drawer.” She pointed to the desk in the corner of her bedroom.
“OK. Stay here.”
After getting the keys, he entered the kitchen and checked inside the refrigerator. It wasn’t all that useful since he had no idea how to cook, plus the only food in her refrigerator was leftover takeout boxes that contained spoiled food. He looked through her pantry and found cold breakfast cereal, but not much else. He selected the cereal and got the milk from the refrigerator and a bowl and spoon from a cabinet and drawer. He brought the food over to the bedroom and found Alex passed out on her bed.
He wanted to stay with her, but still had some last minute preparations on his end with the team before leaving tomorrow morning. He thought it best to cover her with blankets, set an alarm clock on her nightstand for 4am so she would wake up early in the morning. She had no luggage to worry about, just her purse, so she wouldn’t need to spend much time getting ready in the morning since Andrews AFB was just ten miles SE of downtown Washington DC.
He sighed as he scanned the room. As opposed to the rest of her clean and neat home, her bedroom was a mess. Her bed remained unmade, her clothes lay on the floor, and her makeup rested all over the counter in the bathroom, with the hair dryer on the floor. A pizza box sat closed on her dresser. The mess probably suggested she didn’t entertain in here a lot. He was thankful for that. It also probably meant that she worked so hard that the only time she spent at her home was when she slept.
He went back to the desk and wrote down the schedule for the morning just in case she didn’t remember. He left the note, the alarm clock, a glass of water and some Advil he found in her bathroom on the nightstand. He wrote himself a mental note to call her first thing in the morning to make sure she was up and awake.
Alex stirred in the bed and let out a moan. Her thought patterns hit Raymond, and he knew that Alex was dreaming of where they had left off. The temptation was too much, but he reached down anyway and touched her face. He enjoyed the erotic images he saw streaming from her mind. Definitely nice to be starring in her dreams, but he’d rather have a real performance. He waited another minute until the tension within him grew to be too much. He left her home, locking the door behind himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY–EIGHT
Alex drove to Andrews AFB, thankful not to be the last car in the long lineup waiting outside the armed gates. T minus one hour and some change remained before mission 09298 took flight. Not much time considering she still had to pass through security, which included a sweep for potential bombs in her car and on her person. Her White House clearance was checked before she, and some other passengers, were put onto a transport vehicle and led to an unmarked hangar which sat in an off–limit compound deep within Andrews.
She didn’t recognize everyone on the transport, but a few she had seen on television by the President’s side several times. The press secretary was easy to spot. She assumed the man sitting next to her was the Secretary of Health, but she wasn’t sure. Of course, the bigwigs would also have their personal assistants accompanying them. Everyone seemed calm and relaxed with this trip falling into the category of just another day at the office.
As the car approached its destination, she studied the people surrounding the hangar. All were military personnel and, as far as she could detect, all were armed. As the transport rounded the hanger, she caught sight of the most impressive vehicle she had ever laid eyes on – actually, make that the two most impressive vehicles. The VC25 jet and its twin were both parked on the tarmac. One would carry the President and his entourage, the other merely a decoy which would fly empty. Both were impressive with a height of six stories and the massive size of a football field. She caught her breath as she saw the sun gleam off their shinny waxed exteriors, which gave them a bigger than life look about them.
Scanning around, she realized the absence of any of her team members, human as well as vampire. She assumed they had already boarded since she was running late. The sun had barely risen and she had been wearing her sunglasses since leaving the first guard station. Her headache remained in check, but what bothered her more than anything were the mosquito bites she endured while waiting for her car to be inspected for potential bombs.
She scratched at the two bites on her arms as the transport car stopped on the tarmac. She gathered her purse and was led to one of the impressive planes by a Chief Master Sergeant (CMSGT). The professional sergeant took her and two others to the ramp leading up to the plane. She scratched the back of her neck and her left ear as she climbed the steps. She then scratched the biggest bite in the middle of her forehead as she entered the majestic and impressive plane.
An armed guard greeted her once she stepped aboard. Thinking back to the sergeant’s instructions, she strode forward searching for her seat. The plane only carried seventy passengers, and, according to the sergeant, each seat was formally assigned in the passenger compartment – and she was one of them! Never in her wildest dreams (well, okay, maybe in her wildest) did she ever dream she’d be here. Walking past the vacant seats, she noticed the higher the rank the closer the seat was to the President’s executive suite. She realized she held her breath in awe, so she took a deep breath as she walked past the first few rows of passenger seats. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tear up or cry for joy, but with so many armed guards and officials about, she didn’t want to act like a giddy schoolgirl. Mentally though, she jumped up and down.
Moving through the plane she saw her vampire team scattered about, with Dixon and Raymond the closest to the President. She gave a nod to them as she scratched the annoying bite on her forehead once again. What was it? An industrial sized mosquito? One hopped up on radiation? The bite itched like hell. Pulling her hand away from the evil spawn she noticed that she had scratched the bite to the point of bleeding. She mentally cursed as she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.
She winked at Raymond as she walked past him, but forgot about her sunglasses. Ugh! She must look like some strung out hippy. She quickly removed them and continued back into the plane. After passing several rows, she realized she wasn’t going to see Raymond at all during this flight. Last night, as wonderful as it was, didn’t quite end the way she had wanted it to end. Then this morning she overslept and had a mind–splitting headache. She had no time to eat and was starving. Breakfast was always the most important meal of the day and she never missed it. Even with the stupid alarm clock getting her up at 4am, and with Raymond’s call at 4:05 am, she still didn’t have time to eat.
Her agenda had her being introduced to the human team this morning and then board the plane with her vampire team, and now she was behind in that schedule. Lateness was also an awful first impression to make on her first official day on the job. She’d have to meet with the human team first thing on the plane, or once they land. Thankfully Dixon had been up all night making the preparations and there was little for her to do this morning.
Her forehead itched again. Of all things, she now resembled a Cyclops. She was an itchy mess. Not a morning person to say the least, she felt thankful Air Force One had a full coffee service and was determined to get a cup at her earliest convenienc
e. She suddenly realized that she was going to meet the President for the first time today sporting a third eye where the damn mosquito had left its mark. Stupid bloodsucking bastard!
Her seat sat in front of the rows of fax and copier machines, and just next to some secure phone lines. Of course her seat was the last row. Dixon sat closer to the front and next to Raymond since she was second–string to Dixon this time around. Perhaps next time she would be farther up. Noticing that her seat was next to Matt and Brandon, she grimaced inwardly, but still said a polite ‘good morning’ to the pair.
She glided down into her plush seat and felt the seat cushion give way. Letting out a comforting sigh, she let it all sink in. The armrest had broadband Internet service. The console in front of her had satellite video feeds. Everything was marked with the Executive/Presidential seal. And down the hall was the executive suite. She would be meeting the President today. Everything was exciting.
One thing did give her pause though. Raymond didn’t even say hello to her as she walked past him. He probably had an off night last night as well. Maybe he was upset because she had been drunk. She hoped they’d have a chance to talk once they arrived in Florida. Matt sat quietly sipping his coffee and not paying her any attention, which was nice. She suspected Brandon, who sat next to the window, liked looking out the window when they flew. The man probably wanted to make sure no gremlins attacked the engines of the plane or something else just as ridiculous.
Alex quietly sipped her coffee and listened to one conspiracy theory after another from Brandon, even though his suspicions were trying her patience — and Matt wasn’t much of a buffer. That was when the President walked into the cabin, extended his hand, and said hello to her.
Shocked, Alex spilled her coffee on her jacket. Damn it! Toss in the run on her stockings and how the wind had recoiffed her hair this morning and she looked a fright for meeting the President. If she had eaten breakfast she just knew that she’d have had something stuck between her teeth. “Hello Mr. President.” she said as she stood and shook his hand.
He smiled a toothy grin, allowing her to see his set of fangs. “Call me Mason. It’s a pleasure to meet the new director.”
Mason? Oh God, the vampire double. She grabbed a napkin and sopped up the coffee from her blouse as she composed herself. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mason. My, you look exactly like the man.” Alex did a double take and focused on Mason’s facial features.
Mason asked Matt to allow him to sit in his seat for a few minutes, and Matt politely complied. As Mason took the seat, he kept an eye on Brandon. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma’am.” He reached over and politely shook her hand.
“Oh please, call me Alex.” For looking so much like the President, Alex marveled at his thick southern accent. His voice sounded nothing like the President’s heavy Boston one.
Shifting in the seat, he crossed his legs, his right ankle resting on top of his left knee. “Can’t imagine a pretty young woman, such as yourself, being named Alex. Must be short for Alexandria, right?”
She smiled. How many times had people asked her that exact question? She had lost track. Of course Mason’s question came with a nice compliment, most didn’t. “Close. Alexandra, but I go by Alex.”
“Alright, Miss Alex it is.” Mason glared over at Brandon, who was leaning over in his chair and staring at Mason’s face.
“You look older than the President today.” Brandon inspected Mason like he was the Lost Ark. “Something isn’t right. Sometimes you look younger, but today you look a good ten years older than he does.”
Mason waved the comment off. “Nothin’ more than stress and a poor night’s rest. It’s nothin’ for you to fret over.”
Alex watched closely as the human became compelled. “Now you will please excuse the lady and me while we have ourselves a private talk. You will ignore everything you hear,” he continued. Like a robot, Brandon turned towards the window and ignored them, just as if Mason and Alex had disappeared.
“Now that boy scares the livin’ tar out of me,” Mason said pointing to Brandon. “His mother must have dropped him when he was a wee baby.” Mason touched his face, “He notices way too much for my liking.”
How cool was this compelling trick? Alex could use this tool in her handbag of tricks, too bad it wasn’t a learned ability. She realized she still stared in awe at Mason in light of what he had done. Alex cleared her throat and looked away.
He glanced around and then said in a whisper, “You get used to it. Come soon enough you won’t even notice when we compel the humans in front of you. It’ll be old hat.”
Alex returned her gaze at the vampire. “You have a lovely southern accent,” she said, changing the subject.
“Born and raised in Bexar County, right outside of San Antonio. Other than my days fighting Nazis, I lived my entire human life in a small corner of the world.”
“Emulating the President’s speech must be hard.”
Mason licked his lips, and said in a perfect Bostonian accent, “I usually have little to no speaking requirements when I am the President. But I can manage.”
Alex laughed. “That’s nearly perfect.”
He winked. “I’ve had nearly four years of perfectin’ the accent.”
She leaned in and whispered, “You hoping he makes it as an incumbent?”
“Honestly Miss. Alex, not in the slightest,” he said in still a hushed tone. “Don’t get me wrong; he’s a good man and all, especially helping the economy, but my poor eyes don’t take too well to those darn contacts. I have an inner eyelid, and they sure do hurt when it I’m out in the sun.” When she narrowed her gaze deep into his eyes, he added, “The light’s not bright enough here, darlin’. Plus those little buggers aren’t in right now. You’ll only see the transparent eyelids when they try to close down on top of them awful things.”
“Sorry,” she said as she moved away from his face. “I didn’t mean to be too obvious.” Actually, she normally would have taken offense to the ‘darlin’ remark and would have been up in his face for such a sexist comment. She could tell he didn’t mean it as a come–on, nor as a degrading title. Somehow, the words coming from a good old southern gentleman, old enough to be her grandfather, didn’t bother her. He seemed easy to talk to, and she liked that. It reminded her of when she was a little girl talking with her Paw–Paw all those years ago.
Mason was one of the full vampires in the group, just like Daniel. It meant he was once human, and that piqued her interest. “I read you’re a member of the team because of Raymond’s actions,” she said.
“Yep.”
“And you were a fighter pilot before that.”
“In World War II,” he whispered. “I was on mission, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Raymond gave me the orders and he miscalculated the enemy’s position. I knew the truth about him. ‘No compelling in foxholes’ type of thing. And I begged Raymond to turn me.”
“You begged? He didn’t want to turn you?”
“I was the first human he turned, and he didn’t want to do it. I think his guilt over sending me to my death got the best of him. That, and I told him I had a family that needed me to live.”
Alex smiled. “Then the turning worked out. You came home to them.”
Mason shook his head and his eyes saddened with pain. “Nah, it didn’t work out. My wife rejected me when I told her. She told the kids I had died, and she asked that I never see her or them again.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Mason looked away. “I am too. It wasn’t exactly the homecoming I had hoped for. Raymond compelled them to believe I died in combat, and I spent my entire existence as a vampire away from them.”
Alex flinched. “That must have been difficult for you.”
He shrugged. “I loved them enough to let them go. Raymond regrets turning me, but he helped me through the pain.”
Alex could sense his loneliness. She thought back to Daniel’s words of making the best
of a bad situation. “I guess I never thought about the negative effects of being turned,” she said in a reflective, solemn tone.
Mason shrugged his shoulders and looked away just as Brandon pointed out the window, and announced to no one in particular, “Marine One.”
Alex craned her neck to look out the tiny porthole. Not too far in the distance she saw the three marine helicopters, two of which were decoys and one, the real McCoy, approaching. She thought back to when she had boarded the plane. A small contingent of Marines was standing guard, obviously waiting to greet the President so that the Air Force soldiers could escort him aboard the airplane. Everything ran with peak efficiency, and that impressed her.
“I best be going,” Mason said just as Matt reappeared looking for his seat.
Saying a quick good–bye to Mason, and allowing Matt access to his seat, Alex stared out the window for any image of the President she could see, but she wasn’t able to see where Marine One had landed. Moments later the announcement came over the intercom. The woman’s voice sounded confident and firm. “Attention on board the aircraft. The President is on board. We are now Air Force One.”
Alex sat straighter in her seat, her head held high, and her lips curled into a satisfied smile. She could get used to this life.
CHAPTER TWENTY–NINE
Air Force One landed in Florida and both the human and vampire teams were busy on security detail. Mason exited with Alex and part of the human team and climbed into the first of the five presidential limos that would drive around Florida. Mason rode in the decoy car; Alex rode in the mobile com center car that linked all five cars together.
Raymond, Sterling and Sulie, plus some humans, made up the President’s Protection Detail, also known as the inner circle of protection. The PPD and the President filed into the Presidential limo. The vampires would remain in the car, since they could not afford to have their pictures taken. Thanks to digital technology, they were too exposed now. Of course, in the past bad photography, poor film development … it was easy to explain blurred vampire faces. The press wasn’t stupid though. After a while they would catch onto a pattern, and then the team would have to rotate who got out of the car. During one such incident, when a photographer got too close, the team could not risk sitting in the convertible with JFK. It still bothered Raymond that he had not been able to save the President.
Eternal Service Page 18
