by Craig Zerf
‘You can’t call the police,’ said Emily.
‘Why?’ Asked Sylvian.
‘Nicoleta says that the police come here all the time. High ranking uniformed officers and plain clothes. They use the girls. Some of them are violent. Very violent.’
‘I’ll think of something,’ said Sylvian. ‘I know many people. But first things first. Let’s free up the other houses and then go and exterminate the family.’
Emily smiled. ‘Thank you, Sylvian.’
The Duc bowed extravagantly. ‘My pleasure, Shadowhunter.’
‘Stay here,’ said Emily to the girls. ‘We’ll send help. Soon.’
Then they left the room and went downstairs to join Tag, Muller and Otto. Sylvian brought them up to speed on their plans.
‘We’re in,’ said Muller. ‘It would be a sin not to put a stop to this. Also, I will phone the local church. They will take care of the girls without involving the police.’
Sylvian nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Muller took out his cell and started dialing.
‘What about this?’ Asked Otto, pointing at Alfred who lay cowering on the ground.
The thug smiled ingratiatingly at Emily. ‘I have answered your questions,’ he said. ‘We had a deal.’
Emily sneered at him. ‘We had no deal, you disgusting slave trader.’ She looked up at Otto. ‘Kill him.’
Alfred threw his hands up. ‘No. Please.’
Otto shot him twice in the chest.
‘Right,’ said Muller. ‘Taken care of. The local parish will mobilize enough people to help. They will rendezvous here and then I will contact them as we clear each house.’
‘Let’s go,’ said Troy.
‘First check the bodies and the cars for grenades,’ said Tag. ‘We’re out. Don’t need any ammo, we still got tons. Also keep an eye out for anything of interest.’
‘Good call,’ agreed Otto.
The group did a quick search of cars and bodies coming up with a dozen grenades. Much to Tag’s delight, Troy found an RPG-7 hand held rocket launcher with two rockets.
‘I call dibs,’ he claimed, holding his hands out. Troy grinned and gave the big man the weapon. Tag strapped it to his back and clipped the two high explosive rockets to his webbing.
Then they walked back to the bus and got in as Muller brought up directions on his cell phone. They headed to the salting house that was closest.
It was less than twenty minutes away and as they drove Sylvian came up with a plan of sorts.
‘Right,’ he said. We drive up to the front door. Tag, Emily, Troy and myself go in, we kill all the guards, do a quick check on the girls, Muller calls the church and we move on.’
‘What about us?’ Asked Otto.
‘You wait at the entrance,’ answered Sylvian. ‘Anyone tries to escape, blast them.’
‘Why can’t we go in?’
‘Because if any of us get shot we can recover before we get to the next house,’ said the Bloodborn. ‘You guys take longer to heal.’
Otto nodded. ‘Fair enough,’ he agreed.
Muller pulled up outside the building. ‘We’re here,’ he stated. ‘Please all dispatch in an orderly fashion and thank you for traveling with Catholic Knight Transport.’
Troy laughed as they alighted. Emily carried a Heckler and Koch MP5, Tag had his two custom 50 cal machine pistols and Sylvian sported an MP5 and a pistol. Troy had taken off his shirt and he changed as he left the bus, assuming his Wolfman mode.
And then they simply walked up to the building and opened the door. A large man in a cheap suit and carrying an AK47 put his hand up to halt them but Troy grabbed his arm and swung him against the wall so hard that the sound of his breaking bones was obvious even from outside the building.
Then it was a simple house clearing exercise. Tag took the ground floor and the three supernatural’s cleared the rest of the building, moving at speeds that were incomprehensible to the guards.
Within minutes the place was clear. Six guards. Six bodies. Some full of gunshot holes, some with their throats torn out and some simply smashed up beyond repair.
Troy morphed back into human mode and called Muller and Otto. Then they split up and quickly checked on the girls, telling them that they were safe and ensuring them that help was coming soon. Some understood but many were too drugged to understand what was going on.
Muller made his calls and then they proceeded onwards.
The next two houses were almost carbon copy situations. Slave traders resisted. Slave traders died. Tag took a bullet to the shoulder in the third house but by the time they had all got back into the bus he had already healed up.
The final house had obviously been warned and they were waiting for them.
Muller stopped the bus outside the house and Tag jumped out first.
There was an explosion of automatic gunfire and the big man went down in a welter of blood as he was riddled with bullets.
Muller immediately jammed the bus into reverse and pulled out of the line of fire, spinning the wheel and careening backwards around the corner.
As soon as the bus had cleared the firing zone, Em, Troy and Sylvian leapt out, weapons hot, Troy turning as he jumped. Both Muller and Otto followed.
‘Stay here,’ shouted Sylvian.
‘No ways,’ returned Muller. ‘They’re ready for us, you’re going to need all the firepower that we can muster. We’re coming with.’
‘Fine, watch yourselves,’ agreed the Bloodborn.
Together they ran to the corner. Troy took point and, instead of peering around and checking out the lay of the land, he simply used his unbelievable speed to run to the front of the building and crouch down out of sight. Both Em and Sylvian followed. Then Muller and Otto dropped prone and crept around the corner, firing as they did to keep enemy heads down.
They were about to consolidate and formulate some sort of plan when Tag staggered to his feet, ripped the RPG-7 off his back, rammed a rocket in and fired at the front door.
The high explosive round struck the door, barreled through into the reception area and exploded. A ball of fire billowed out of the front of the house, blowing out the windows and throwing two of the thugs into the street.
Tag sprinted into the building, guns blazing and shouting at the top of his voice.
The rest of the team had no choice but to follow.
The fight was over in minutes.
Tag, Emily and Sylvian split up to reassure the captive girls and Muller, Otto and Troy stayed downstairs and made judicious use of the fire extinguishers to put out the blaze that Tag had started.
Muller made another phone call and they left.
Chapter 27
The three super-luxury Sandford coaches pulled up opposite the salting house. Their windows were tinted midnight black and it was impossible to see inside.
The door to the leading coach opened and a man stepped out and into the street. He looked around and then signaled to the rest of the occupants.
Doors opened. Men stepped out. All dressed in a uniform. Scarlet and black. Long hair. Pale skin. No visible weapons.
‘So this is where they were seen?’ Asked Nathan.
Petrus nodded. ‘This is the house that they attacked, my lord.’
‘And who are these people?’ Asked Nathan, pointing at two cars that had obviously just pulled up, there engines no longer running but heat waves still rising from their engines, visible in the sub-zero temperatures.
Petrus looked closely at the two motor vehicles. ‘That one has a church parking permit on it,’ he noted. ‘Probably church officials of some sort.’
‘Strange,’ said Nathan. ‘I wonder what they’re doing here. Also, why did Emily attack this place? Let’s take a look inside. Ask a few questions. How long until sunrise?’
Petrus glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Two hours and twelve minutes, my lord.’
Nathan nodded and then gestured for the Bloodwraiths to follow him into the building.
; Chapter 28
‘It’s a fortress,’ said Troy.
‘No,’ denied Muller. ‘It’s just a house with high walls, electric fencing, guards, dogs, machine guns and claymore mines.’
‘Like I said,’ repeated Troy. ‘A fortress.’
‘We only have two hours until sunrise,’ noted Sylvian. ‘Then Em and I are out of the picture so we need to move fast. I recommend that we split our attack. Muller, you Otto and Tag go in through the front gate. Use the RPG to blow it open and then go in noisy. Use the bus, crash into the front of the house. Do whatever you can to attract their attention and then kill as many as you can. Meanwhile, Troy, Em and I will jump the wall, neutralize the dogs and hit them from behind.’
‘Good plan,’ agreed Tag.
‘The gangster that we questioned said that there would be lots of dogs. A huge pack. Is that going to be a problem?’ Asked Otto.
Sylvian grinned. ‘Trust me, the dogs are no problem. With Em and Troy they are going to be running away so fast that they will literally kill their owners if they get in the way. Right, let’s go.’
Sylvian, Troy and Em alighted from the bus and ran around the corner and up to the wall, moving at their standard supernatural speed, mere blurs of movement in the snow and dark.
Muller revved the bus’ engine and lined up with the front gate. ‘Right, Tag,’ he said. ‘Blow that thing away.’
Tag slotted a rocket into the launcher, leaned out of the bus door and fired. The High Explosive round struck the guardhouse that was attached to the side of the gate and exploded in a massive ball of fire, smashing the guardhouse and its occupants into rubble and tearing the gate from its hinges and throwing it to the ground.
Muller dropped his foot and the bus thumped over the debris and accelerated down the long gravel driveway towards the house.
Tag had dropped the empty RPG and now had a Heckler Koch MP5 in his hand as he leant out of the door firing short bursts at the house, shattering windows and blowing out lights.
Otto joined him, firing one handed, spraying the house with armor piecing rounds from his MP7.
‘Brace yourselves,’ shouted Muller.
The two big men jumped back into the bus and dropped into a seat as the bus climbed the front steps of the house and barreled into the huge double front doors, smashing them inwards as the bus entered the building.
‘Let’s go get them,’ yelled Tag as he jumped from the bus, firing at anything that he saw moving.
At the same time Troy, Em and Sylvian had crossed the open lawn and had just run into the dogs.
‘Wow,’ said Emily. ‘When he said a lot of dogs he wasn’t exaggerating.
A pack of over thirty pure bred Rottweiler stood in front of them. Standing with them were their two handlers.
Troy, who had not yet turned, morphed into his full animal mode. A Wolf the size of a horse.
Both of the handlers simply turned and ran but the dogs, instead of joining them, all dropped to the floor, some rolling over on their backs to show their submission.
Troy stalked amongst them, growling softly, nudging some of them as he passed, nipping others. Then he turned to Em and Sylvain and gestured with a flick of his head for them to follow him.
They ran and the dogs ran with them, servants to the ultimate Alpha. Slaves to his authority.
‘Well this is something that you don’t see every day,’ said Em as they ran, surrounded by a bodyguard of over thirty snarling, slavering attack dogs.
‘Should narrow the odds a little,’ admitted Sylvian. ‘Surprised that they aren’t too terrified of you to stay. Very puzzling.’
‘I’m doing the blue thing,’ said Emily. ‘Well, I’m trying to. As soon as it looked as though Troy had things under control I tried to think blue like you showed me. I’m not getting it one hundred percent correct but enough to not scare the canines half to death.
‘Well done,’ said Sylvian as they reached the back door to the house.
Troy simply hammered through the door without bothering to open it and he ran into the building surrounded by the pack. Em and Sylvian followed.
Gun shots rang out as guards attempted to repel the attack. Two of the dogs went down before the rest of the pack tore the guards apart.
‘You take the ground floor,’ shouted Sylvian to Troy. ‘Em and I will go up.’
The Bloodborn and the Shadowhunter sprinted up the sweeping staircase and headed to the next floor. Both carried MP5 submachine guns.
As they entered the corridor they were greeted by a fusillade of shots and they returned fire. Bodies fell. Blood flowed. Sylvian took the right side of the corridor and Emily the left, kicking doors open and shooting whoever was in the rooms.
Within minutes they had cleared the area and went up the stairs to the top floor of the house. Below them they could hear the battle stuttering to a halt. The gunfire sporadic, interrupted every now and then by a cacophony of barking and growling and the terrified scream of some guard being torn to shreds by the pack.
The top floor of the house was a single large room. The walls lined with books. Original art on various easels were scattered about the room. Persian carpets on the floor. A fire crackled merrily in a large open fireplace.
In the middle, a huge antique desk. Seated behind it a man of indeterminate age somewhere between fifty and seventy. Hair graying at the temples. Clean shaven. Expensive suit. Manicured nails. Skin glossy, stretched. Obviously surgically tightened.
Behind him stood four bodyguards. They all held M126A4 assault rifles.
The man looked like a successful banker. Not a low-life trader in human misery. Almost presidential.
He smiled. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘It looks like what we have here is a Mexican Standoff. Mutually assured destruction.’
‘Why would you say that?’ Asked Sylvian.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Asked the man. ‘If you shoot me, my men will open fire on you. So you might kill me but they will definitely kill you. We find ourselves at an impasse.’
Emily smiled. Or to more succinct, she pulled her lips back to show her fangs. ‘No,’ she disagreed. ‘That’s not how this is going down.’
Both she and the Bloodborn moved together. Sylvian went right and Emily jumped high in the air, clearing the desk and extending her talons as she did. With a wet tearing sound she ripped out two of the bodyguards’ throats before she even touched the ground. Swiveling hard right she dispatched another, breaking his neck with one swift open handed blow.
Sylvian had already killed the fourth guard by smashing his head against the wall.
‘There,’ she said. ‘No impasse. Problem solved.’
She walked around to the front of the desk and stared at the leader of the Foldessy Family. His suave demeanor had turned to obvious bare faced fear. Emily could hear his heart thumping against his ribs, she could smell his fear. Almost taste his blood as it pumped around his body.
And she let out a moan of desire. Of need. The need to feed.
‘Go ahead,’ said Sylvian. ‘No one would blame you. And he is less than an animal. He doesn’t deserve to live.’
Emily leaned forward and grabbed the man by his face, dragging him across the desk. Exposing his neck to her fangs. His jugular stood out like a worm beneath his skin. Pulsing with life.
Emily dropped him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I know that it’s unfair on Tag but I haven’t yet taken a human life to feed and I will not do so. Even someone who might deserve it. I am Shadowhunter…not Vampire.’
‘Vampire?’ gasped the man as he shrank back in fear. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Don’t hurt me. I have friends, connections. Girls. Many girls, they are young, healthy. I can give them to you. Feed on them. They will be your personal slaves. A lifetime supply. Give me a chance to serve you. Please.’
There was a growl at the door and Troy/Wolf padded in, filling the room. Then he slowly morphed into his Wolfman mode in order to ease his communication abilities. ‘Who is this?’ He growled.
/> ‘Head honcho,’ said Emily. ‘He’s just promised me my own bevy of personal slaves if I don’t hurt him.’
Troy walked closer and the man behind the desk whimpered in terror as yet another mythical beast of the night became reality in front of him. ‘What is your name?’ Asked Troy, his words choppy and guttural. Unsuited to his Wolfish jaw.
‘Janos Foldessy,’ the man whispered. ‘Head of the family.’
‘Well, Janos,’ said Troy. ‘I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. Not for a million dollars. You see, you have offended Emily with your slave trading and she has decided to make you pay.’ The Wolfman shook his head. ‘Not for a million dollars,’ he repeated.
The sound of footsteps caused all to turn towards the door. Tag, Muller and Otto walked in. Tag was covered in blood and his shirt was full of holes.
‘Wassup?’ He asked. ‘And who’s this asshole.’
‘The head of the Foldessy Family,’ answered Em. ‘Chief slave trader and violator of young girls. I’m just trying to think of a suitable way to punish him for his transgressions.’
Muller stepped forward. ‘I have just the right punishment for such an evil man,’ he said as he pulled a flask from his jacket pocket.
‘What is that?’ Asked Sylvian.
‘Holy Water,’ answered the Knight of the church.
‘Umm…I don’t mean to cast aspersions on your faith,’ said Emily. ‘But splashing a bit of blessed water on this bastard won’t actually do anything.’
‘Trust me,’ interjected Otto. ‘We are Knights of the most holy See. Our faith is our sword. If Muller says that he shall punish him, then he shall feel the wrath of our Lord.’
Emily shrugged. ‘Okay, do your worst.’
Muller uncapped the bottle and stood over the head of the Foldessy Family. Murderer, slaver and violator. ‘The power of Christ compels me,’ he declared as he poured the liquid all over the man’s face.
Janos started to scream and did not stop until he drew his last breath some twenty minutes later.
Chapter 29
