“Anne Marie is my hero,” Miriam replied softly. “She’s everything I’m not; brave, fearless, awesome. The only thing we have in common is our hatred of Beryl Wilson.”
Amp’s is going to crap when I tell her this story, Rio thought.
“We both know why Amp hates Wilson. Tell me why you hate him?” he prodded gently.
“For decades he has abused me, physically, mentally, sexually, every way he could, anything to hurt me…and humiliate me. Do you understand about sustaining life from their blood?”
“Yes, I think so, at least in principle.”
“Okay…somewhere along the way, maybe 80 or 90 years ago, the honeymoon ended, and the abuse began. I know you’re wondering why I stuck around, and that’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over. It’s just I didn’t want to get old, didn’t want to die, I wanted so much to be turned, to be given immortality. I had all the money I could ask for, I’ve operated his businesses for 50 years, the only thing I don’t have is what I gave up…normalcy. More and more, Beryl has been…I don’t know, going crazy is the best way to describe it. He’s a paranoid, and probably schizophrenic. I thought I could wait him out, somehow get what I wanted, and get the hell away from him. Then, after he had Amp’s friends murdered…it was the last straw. It was cold blooded murder…so wrong in so many ways. Since then, I’ve not been able to hold it in any more. His beatings have gotten worse and worse, close to killing me, and now…”
She stopped, composing herself, the tears welling in her eyes, not trusting her voice.
“Take your time, I’m not going anywhere,” Rio whispered, reaching over and taking her hand.
“I know I’m guilty by association, Rio, but I didn’t want those two boys to die. It crushed something inside of me when it happened. When Amp killed that prick Sheldon and threw his head in my lap, she woke something in me, a bit of self esteem, I guess, something I was sorely missing. I wanted to be like her, and that’s all that has kept me going for the last year. Anyway, this guy came last night, and Beryl told me if his guest wanted sex, or blood, or anything, I was to be accommodating. He’s whoring me out, Rio…I don’t deserve that; I don’t care how bad I’ve been. I’m not somebody’s whore.”
The tears were flowing, the woman holding Rio’s hand for dear life.
“Tell me about the visitor last night,” Rio asked softly. “Everything you know and anything you heard. Please don’t leave anything out, Miriam. This is life and death, and I don’t want to be on the death side.”
------
Rio left Kito’s Kave, needing to get back to the motel, and fill Amp in on his meeting with Miriam. The information she had given him was toxic enough to possibly put an end to this mission. Only Amp could make that call. As he walked down the street, heading back to the motel, he thought how lucky they had been that he had run into Miriam. The woman had turned out to be a fount of information about the Wilson operation.
His mind on the problems facing his friends, Rio was not aware of the car pulling up next to him until he almost walked into the side of it. That it was a police car sent alarms sounding throughout his head. The passenger side window rolled down, the officer leaning across the seat to talk to Rio.
“Mr. Peron, my chief would like to talk to you for a few minutes, sir, if you can spare the time.”
Rio didn’t have time for this shit, sure they talked to all the new people in these tiny island towns. He knew the rules, wasn’t planning on breaking any.
“In kind of a hurry here, officer. Perhaps I could stop in later in the week and meet your chief.”
“Chief said you might say that, Mr. Peron. He told me to tell you he don’t want to talk to you as Police Chief Meers; rather talk to you as First Sergeant Meers.”
Without a word, Rio opened the car door, and slid into the passenger seat. The two didn’t speak as the car rolled toward the police station, the officer parking in the space near the front door, Rio following him through the front door, and down the hall. The Chief was in his office, door open, a smile on his face. Rio sized him up, thinking early fifties, six feet of muscle slowing going to a middle age spread. He still looks like he could go a few rounds if he needed to, Rio thought with respect.
Meers stood and held his hand out, Rio shaking it, both men’s grips firm, but not trying to have a pissing contest. “Bert Meers, Mr. Peron. Glad to meet you, sir.”
“You too, Chief.”
“Have a seat, I just want to chat for a few minutes. I know you’re busy, but if you could spare me a few moments, it might be in both of our interest.”
Looking around the office, Rio noticed several framed pictures of Meers in Army uniforms, a few taken in the Middle East.
“You retire?” he asked, nodding at the pictures.
“Yep, twenty-two years, then came home. Would have stayed longer, but they wasn’t gonna let me have any more fun so I took the money and ran. Didn’t want to ride a desk, but now look at me…sitting here every day twiddling my thumbs. The Army was good to me, and I’ll always be a part of it.”
“What can I do for you, Chief?” Rio asked, not permitting himself to be pulled into the good-old-boys conversation.
“I’ve had a couple of calls reporting a man leaving the Tide’s Inn in camo in the early evening, disappearing into the woods, and returning near morning. Strange behavior, even for Alaska, and I get paid to check on strange behavior. What’s so interesting in the woods of Mitkof Island, Mr. Peron?”
“Just enjoying the nature, Chief; birds, deer, moose, your island has it all. You investigate every nature lover, Chief?”
“Not concentrating your nature walks around the Wilson Compound, are you, Mr. Peron?”
“Don’t understand where you’re going with this, Chief. If you have a specific question, let’s have it. Otherwise I really have a few errands to run.”
“Just sit there and listen for a few minutes, and then if you want, you walk on out of here, and do things your way. First of all, First Sergeant Peron, I did a bit of background on you, what I could find. Your first layer of records is protected, which raised all kinds of red flags to me. That means you’re either a bad guy or a good guy. I called an old favor in, and found that you’re a good guy, and your records are protected because of the sensitivity of your missions. Says a lot to me, Sergeant. My friend in records says your file reads like a Clancy novel, that you were a special-ops stud. Now Sergeant, I proudly wore my Ranger tab on my shoulder, but in actuality, I was an infantry grunt with the 10th Mountain. Loved that outfit, loved those guys. So our careers were worlds apart, but we were both fighting the same enemy, fighting for the same flag. Unless I’m way off base, I think we’re still on the same side.”
“I’m listening,” Rio said.
“Yesterday I had a visit from a man named Turkman. Arrogant prick, claims he’s the new security chief for Beryl Wilson. He wanted me to know that he had good information there was an intruder on the Wilson property; asked if I would keep my eye out, and let him know anything I turned up.”
“What are you going to tell Mr. Huntsman?” Rio asked conversationally.
“Not a damn thing,” Meers said.
“Thank you,” Rio answered.
“Is there going to be trouble out there, Sergeant?”
Rio took a moment to formulate his answer. He didn’t want Meers, or his men, anywhere near the Wilson property when Amp’s group went in. He also knew if it wasn’t handled right, the police chief might jump in the middle of it on his own.
“There’s been trouble out there already, Chief…the kind of trouble that you or your men don’t want to be involved in. Hopefully it’s all going to come to an end, and when it does, I’ll let you know when things are normal. How’s that sound?” He liked this old soldier, felt a trust building. He realized what was happening; if he stayed around this area, the two could easily be friends.
“Who are you working for, Sergeant?”
“My friends call me Rio, Chief
. I think we’re going to be friends.”
“Good…Rio. Who do you work for?”
“We aren’t going there…not right now, Chief. Trust me when I tell you I’m with the good guys. Something horrific happened out there last year, and I’m with a group that is going to set things right. It’s not much, but it’s about all I can tell you; except this is not the kind of fight you want to be a part of.”
The police chief looked like he wanted to argue, but then changed the topic.
“I’ve got a teen-age daughter, Rio, just graduated high school, and she reads a lot…love stories, fantasy, horror…and vampire books. I picked up one of her vampire books one day, and didn’t put it down until the wee hours of the morning. It was sappy and all lovey shit, know what I mean, but…it explained a great deal to me, filled in a lot of blanks. Did you ever serve in Haiti?”
“No, that’s one I missed.”
“Not only Haiti, but some South and Central American countries, Asian countries, all over the world, there’s people who live magic, and voodoo, and supernatural things. Let me ask you a question, Rio…and please don’t judge my sanity. Do you believe in…vampires?”
The Chief searched Rio’s face for a reaction, wondering if he had gone too far. He never mentioned his suspicions to another, but was sure he was on the right track…or maybe just cracking up.
“Yes,” Rio answered. “Yes, I do.”
“My friends call me Bert,” the chief finally said, letting out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “I grew up here, born and raised. When I was twelve or so, I rode my bike out the road about every day, nothing to do in Petersburg, kids got to find their own way. Anyway, one day this car went by me at about eighty miles an hour, blew me off the road right into the bushes. I wasn’t hurt, but the car skidded to a stop, and a couple guys jumped out to help me, apologizing, you know the drill. One of them was Beryl Wilson. This was 1970 or thereabouts. I left town when I turned eighteen, joined the Army, served 22 years, then came home and got a job with the cops. I’ve seen Wilson several times since I’ve been home. Rio, he hasn’t aged a day. He doesn’t come to town often, although occasionally I see some of his men about. I’ve tried to find out what he does, who he is, but I come up with a dead end. Rio, is Wilson a vampire?”
Rio knew he was in too deep to back out, and he had to trust this man. “Yes, Bert, Wilson is a vampire…a very bad and evil vampire. He is going to be put down soon…permanently.”
“By your people…and they are also vampires? Are you a vampire, Rio?”
“No, I’m not a vampire…I’m just an old soldier helping some friends right a wrong. My people are vampires…good and honorable vampires. You’d like my friends, Bert. I think you’re probably going to get the chance to get to know them, if things go well for us.”
“God help me,” Bert said softly. “I’m not as crazy as I thought I was.”
------
Robert answered Nikka’s cell phone, checking the number and seeing that it was Rio.
“Hey bro, how goes it?”
“Bob, is Amp close by, I need to talk to her.”
Robert could tell from his friend’s tone that there was a problem. “Hold on a sec, she’s outside, I’ll get her. Everything okay?”
“Not real sure, but I need to clear something up.”
Rio heard Robert say something to Amp, then she was on the phone.
“Rio?”
“Amp, something’s come up, and I need an answer. Besides the four of us…and the dead vampires in Mount Vernon…who else knows that we’re planning this deal? Think real hard, because this is important.”
She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
“When I went down to L.A. last year, I told Morgan and his people I was going to come back and even the score with Wilson. At that time, I didn’t have a plan, didn’t even know any of you guys. Silas, Morgan’s head of security, and I talked about it many times, each time he tried to discourage me, tried to get me to stay in L.A. with him. He was afraid it was a suicide mission. Why?”
“Because someone in there knows every move we’re making, knows I’m here scouting them out, knows you guys are close by and preparing an assault. They’ve improved their security, and I think tonight when I go out, they’re going to be out looking for me. Wilson received a guest last night, and Miriam eavesdropped on the conversation. They referred to you by name, and spoke highly of your skills. Something is wrong with that, Amp. Help me out.”
There was silence on the line as Amp tried to picture a scenario that was impossible for her to comprehend. She had to be honest with Rio, there was no holding back at this point, nor would she ever hold back from any of her friends.
“Rio, the other day, after I dropped you at the ferry, I called Silas. I had promised him, when I left California, I would call him before I went in. He told me he wanted to talk strategy, but it was just more of the same, trying to talk me out of it. Silas is my friend, Rio. He was my teacher, and I trust him with my life. I can’t believe he would tell anyone, put my life in danger.”
This wasn’t easy for Rio, but he plunged on anyway. His gut told him where this was going, and he felt nauseated as the truth began to surface.
“This guy is tall, maybe 6’5’’, lean with broad shoulders, moves like a fighter…real smooth and graceful. Light brown hair, short on the sides, cut like a soldier. He was dressed all in black, had on cowboy boots, and a black duster. Sound familiar?”
“Do you know what this guy’s name is?” Amp asked; her heart breaking.
“Wilson introduced him as Turk, that was the only name Miriam heard. But he introduced himself to the Petersburg police chief as Turkman.”
“How much do you trust that whor…that woman, Rio…and why is she feeding you information? There’s something wrong with it…like a set up.”
“You’ll have to trust my instincts on this one, kid. She’s on our side, and if we succeed, it’s due a large part on what she’s doing for us inside that compound.”
Amp thought about it for a few seconds, selecting her words carefully, the denial in her mind strong.
“Okay, of course I trust you, Rio. You’re the pro. What are we going to do about this new person? I could call Silas, sound him out about if he talked to someone, try to find out who it is and how much he knows.”
“He knows enough, Amp. Oh, I forgot…there’s one other thing Miriam said. This guy Turk, he’s got a scar running from his left eye down to the corner of his mouth. Is that anyone you’ve run into?”
Robert and Nikka were listening to Amp’s side of the conversation, the girl animated, almost angry, at what she was hearing from Rio. They watched as she choked up, trying to answer a question. There were red tears streaming down her face, and her voice was trembling. She finally got control of herself, enough to answer the question.
“Rio, don’t go out yet…let me make one quick phone call, and I’ll call you right back. Stay put until you hear from me.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for your call. I’m sorry, Amp. I’m really sorry.”
The phone was dead, Rio knowing he just hurt his friend in a way he might never be able to make up to her.
Amp stared at the phone in her hand, afraid to meet the eyes of her two friends. Her mind was torn between her loyalty to Nikka, Robert and Rio, and her love for her mentor. She couldn’t make herself believe Silas would betray her in such an obscene manner. This was a mistake, and one phone call would clear up the confusion.
Punching in the number for the Morgan complex, Amp got control of her emotions, took a deep breath, and waited for somebody to pick up the phone on the other end.
“”Is Amylee there, please?” she asked the girl who answered. While she waited for her friend to pick up, she decided on the questions she would ask, each word piercing her heart, making the pain escalate.
“”This is Amy,” came her friend’s voice, almost making Amp start crying again.
“Hi…it’s
Amp.”
“Oh Amp, Morgan was just asking about you, if anyone had heard from you? Are you okay, honey? Tell me all the news.” She sounded happy, not a hint of trouble.
“A couple of questions, Amy…real important.”
Amy picked up on the tone, and turned down her cheerfulness. “Go ahead, Amp, I’m here.”
“Is Silas there…at the compound?” Amp asked, holding her breath waiting for the answer.
“No,” Amy answered warily, not sure where this was going. “He told Morgan he had to be gone for a few weeks to visit a friend who needed him. He normally takes a little time off to recharge his batteries…you know, act like a vampire away from home. Sorry you missed him.”
Amp could feel her mind cloud at the answer, forced herself to think.
“What is Silas’ last name…his family name?” Amp whispered, already knowing the answer deep in her gut.
“Sure. Turkman, it’s a shortening of Turkey Man…a man from Turkey. He told me once he was originally from that area, and it’s how people identified themselves at that point in history. He later combined it when a last name became important. Amp, what’s going on?”
“Nothing…it’s just…,” and she was sobbing, the tears staining her cheeks, Nikka putting her arms around the smaller girl’s shoulders and holding her.
“One more thing, Amy. I’m sorry, I’m just having a crappy day. Who is Silas’ sire…who created him?”
“That’s one I don’t know, honey. He never mentioned it, so we all just assumed his sire was dead. I can’t ever remember the subject coming up. Sorry. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Amp took a deep breath, trying desperately to hold herself together, accepting the fact she had been betrayed in a unbearable manner, knowing what needed to be done.
“Nothing, Amy. Thanks, I’ll call soon.”
She disconnected the call, immediately hit recall on Rio’s number, and waited for the soldier to answer.
“Rio, it’s me. Wilson’s guest is Silas Turkman, my mentor and teacher. He is a warrior of the highest order, old and experienced, and a killer. Do not under any circumstances go anywhere near this man. We’re going to get our gear together, and then we’ll be on the way. When we get there, I’ll text you. I don’t think you should go back out there tonight, wait for us.”
Kill Wilson (Petersburg Vampires) Page 18
