“...anyone as dangerous as me...”
I slipped my right hand under her jacket and trailed my fingers over her hip to her stomach.
“Oh, Jack,” she whispered, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
“...anywhere near this close to you.”
Her eyes widened as I stabbed the point of my commando knife through her blouse, just far enough to prick the skin.
“See? They're shit. I could gut you right now.”
She swallowed, barely moving.
“You wouldn't survive,” she whispered.
“Neither would you,” I pointed out. “Maybe I might think it's worth the trade. What do you think? Care to find out?”
“No.”
“Don't worry about the Heart. You can keep it. It's bollocks anyway. I want the gun back.”
She seemed to be struggling to control herself.
“Jack, I don't have it with me—”
“Bullshit,” I said, pressing the knife harder. “Don't lie to me. I'll slit you open and deal with the consequences.”
She looked into my eyes and found whatever was there to be convincing. She slowly pulled the coat back. Strapped to her thigh was a drop-leg holster and, I could see, Marie's SIG.
“Fingertips only,” I said. “We're getting along so well I'd hate to have a misunderstanding.”
She plucked the pistol out and held it up. I released her neck and took it from her unresisting hand, then stepped back, making the blade disappear as I did so.
“Jack,” she said, giving me a look caught between lust and fear. “We could be unstoppable together. We could rule all the vampires, keep them in line. Think about it.”
“I have. I call those 'nightmares'.”
“I can make them pleasant dreams, Jack.”
“You just don't give up, do you?”
“I get what I want, Jack.”
“Not this time.”
“We'll see.”
She turned to leave and then stopped, a smile on her lips.
“You know,” she said, “I really have a lot to thank you for.”
I felt a twinge of suspicion.
“Like what?”
“The Cult of Dracula,” she said. “They were stupid and backward. Annoyingly conservative. They wouldn't change their underwear if they didn't have to and, if they had their way, we'd be back to living in dank castles and sleeping in coffins. They certainly didn't hold with women having any form of real power. They did not like me.”
“And we just wiped them out?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice in check.
“Nearly. You killed enough of them that they’ll not be a political force for a long time. Every time you and I meet you wade through my political opponents with an endearing and bloodthirsty efficiency. If I didn't know better I'd say that your hatred for me was nothing more than an artful pose.”
Her smile was wide, displaying her pearly white fangs.
“This went so well for me it’s almost like I planned it myself.”
And with that parting shot she turned on her heel and marched haughtily away. Her guards appeared from the shadows, keeping their eyes and weapons on us as they followed after their mistress. I turned around.
“There’s more vamps inside the castle,” I said loudly. “Come on out, boys.”
Eighteen more vamps, dressed identically to the ones outside, came cautiously through the doors and into the courtyard. They hurriedly joined their colleagues, moving through my team, each group covering the other with their guns. Finally we were alone.
CHAPTER
44
I ambled slowly back towards my team, thinking on the conversation I'd had with Lucia. Maybe I had, inadvertently, helped her out a little, but the Cult of Dracula seemed like a danger that the world could do without.
I looked up and noticed that Marie was giving me an expectant look.
“Told you I’d get it back,” I said, showing her the gun.
She broke into an excited grin and threw her arms around my neck, giving me an enthusiastic hug.
“Don't lose it again,” I said, handing the pistol over.
She grinned hugely and licked my cheek. I shouldered my pack again and Marie handed me my rifle.
“Well, all-in-all, not too bad.”
“Not too bad?” exploded Eva. “You gave her the Heart of Dracula!”
“Did I?”
“Yes! That belongs to the Vatican! You were supposed to retrieve it, not just give it away!”
“Wow. Well spank my botty and call me a bad boy.”
“Jack!” she said, exasperated. “This is serious!”
“Is it?”
She stared at me, speechless. Then Bolt started laughing.
“You know, I was wondering how you managed that,” he said.
“Managed what?” I said innocently.
“Managed to put the Heart in your backpack, but then pull it out of your belt pouch.”
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“Well silly me. I seem to have accidentally given Lucia the copy that I accidentally picked up in the Vatican instead of the original. I really am a bad boy, aren’t I?”
Eva stared at me, her jaw working, her eyes wide, and her fists clenched.
“Don't worry, ma'am,” said Bolt. “There isn't one of us who hasn't looked at him like that at least once. He has a way of stoking your anger until it's red hot and then cutting your feet out from under you.”
Marie gave the Swiss woman a consoling pat on the back.
“Come on, let's get out of here,” I said. “You can yell at me later.”
We started down the path that led out of the castle. All fifteen hundred steps. I don’t know who built the castle but I did know he’d been a bloody sadist.
We'd given the vamps enough of a lead and had reached the forest without incident when suddenly a howl rent the night air. I spun around, thinking it was Cam or Marie. Both were looking around, furiously sniffing the air.
“Werewolf pack!” said Cam. “They're hunting.”
“Us?” I asked.
“No, a group of vampires.”
“You can get that from the howl?” asked Jeurgen.
“Lot of information in a howl,” he said.
Suddenly the big inmüt threw back his head and let out a long, ululating howl of his own.
“Shit!” said Bolt. “Don't do that.”
“What?” said Cam. “I just wished them a fruitful hunt and asked their forbearance for crossing their territory without permission.”
“Okay, enough,” I said, “let's move before they decide to hunt something other than vamps.”
We made our way back to the helicopter. In the dark woods it was tough going but the miner's track was smooth enough, From time to time I thought I saw shadowy figures flitting through the trees on either side of us, but when I turned to look there was nothing. There was a brief flurry of gunfire off towards the south, then silence again. I felt a lot better when we reached the clearing.
Everyone piled in and I started the engines.
“Sancta Maria!” said Jeurgen in a shocked whisper.
I glanced over at him, and then followed his wide-eyed stare out of the windshield. Reflected in the chopper's running lights were dozens of pairs of glittering eyes, staring at us, not moving.
“Holy shit,” I said. “What are they doing?”
“Making sure we leave,” rumbled Cam.
“No problem there,” I said. “I am in no way inclined to stay.”
I carefully inched the chopper into the air. As we cleared the top of the trees we could see another chopper taking off towards the west. It was bigger than the Huey. I couldn't make out much in the way of details but it did look like a Blackhawk. Lucia wasn't short of funds, that's for sure. I pointed the chopper's nose northwards and we accelerated away.
“Where we going, boss?” said Jeurgen via the intercom.
“Anywhere that's the fuck away fro
m here,” I said.
“You don't have an exit route planned?” he said, some shock in his voice.
“Nah, I’m making this shit up as I go along.”
We rode in silence for a while. I kept the chopper low, but not so low we were in danger of hitting anything. I wanted us to be lost in the ground clutter, not lost by smashing into another telephone wire.
“You really don't know where we're going?” asked Jeurgen.
I nodded toward the front of the chopper.
“Thataway.”
He gave me a frosty look.
“Okay, okay,” I sighed. “You haven’t learned yet that I always know what I’m doing?”
The look didn't change.
“You were the kind of kid who crept downstairs on Christmas morning to peek at your gifts, right? Always want to spoil the surprise?”
He said nothing.
“Put your faith in the Lord?” I suggested.
“Blasphemy,” he said.
“Not really, I’m an atheist.”
“Even so.”
“Okay, take a squint at that GPS locator on the console.”
He glanced down at the suspiciously new-looking box that was clipped to the instrument panel. On the front a four-inch square screen glowed faintly. He reached out and pulled the locator off and stared at the screen. At the top was a red dot. At the bottom was a green dot. In between were range and bearing information. The numbers were steadily ticking down.
“What's the red dot?”
“Our destination.”
“And what’s there?”
“Wait and see,” I said with a smile. “Patience is a virtue, after all.”
CHAPTER
45
It was a near thing. By the time the range had ticked down to almost zero we were practically flying on fumes. I reached out and clicked the radio on.
“Lancelot, this is Galahad, come in Lancelot.”
The radio crackled for a second.
“Galahad, this is Lancelot. We have you on visual. Authenticate nineteen fifty-four.”
I thought about it for a second.
“I authenticate twelve. I repeat, one-two, twelve.”
“Roger, Galahad, we are illuminating the landing field now.”
A little off to our left a clearing was suddenly lit with red flares. I brought the Huey around and circled. The perimeter of the clearing had been marked with red flares and, on one side, a pair of green flares burned, far enough apart that I'd easily be able to land between them.
“I see two—repeat, two—green flares.”
“Come on in, Galahad, you must be thirsty.”
“Roger.”
I circled, losing altitude and brought the Huey in for a gentle landing. In the dim light of the flares we could see the hulking shape of a Royal Air Force Chinook. A Land Rover swung towards us, towing a fuel bowser, and figures climbed out. One ran over and wrenched the door open.
“Fucking hell, you made it out!”
I turned and grinned.
“Rock Ape, you muscleheaded wanker. What you doing out here?”
“Someone’s got to look after your scrawny arse,” he replied. “What did you say to Anna? She was fit to be tied when she got back to the Ministry!”
“Later, bud. How long before we can get back up in the air?”
“'Bout ten minutes, all told.”
“Good, get out of the way. I need to bloody pee.”
Rock Ape laughed and backed off. I did need to pee, but I also needed to stretch my legs. I ran out past the line of flares and into the forest. I knew I was still safely inside the outermost defensive ring that my colleagues would have set up, so I selected a likely looking tree and got to work. The night sky had turned cloudy and the full moon was feeling bashful, hiding behind a cloudbank. There was nothing wrong with my ears, though, so I heard the careful tread of someone approaching.
“So there's the famous Pagan penis,” said a voice to my left.
“Look all you want, Knuckles,” I said, laughing. “It doesn't bother me.”
“It's not that big,” she said.
“It's cold,” I said. “It shrinks when it's cold.”
The banter was just joking. With me stood in the shadow thrown by the flares I would have been all but invisible.
I finished up and zipped myself decent.
“I’d shake hands,” I said. “But, you know...”
“Put your hands away from your body,” she said.
I was puzzled, but complied anyway. She took three steps and threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my ribs and laying her head on my chest.
“I'm glad you made it back,” she said.
Then she stepped back away from me.
“And if you tell anyone I did that I'll stab you in the balls with a rusty fork.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I replied with a wink.
We walked back out to the chopper in time to see the Land Rover pull away and roll up into the back of the Chinook.
“See you back in Blighty,” I said.
Knuckles and Rock Ape waved, then turned and ran back to the Chinook. A shrill whistle rang out and dark figures emerged from the trees, converging on the helicopters. Our protection. I felt so much better for seeing all of this. We were no longer a small team on a dangerous mission. Once again we were part of a massive and powerful military machine. It was a good feeling.
I climbed into the Huey and buckled myself in. I glanced back into the cabin, noting that Marie was back in her human form, and exchanged thumbs-ups with everyone.
“Galahad, this is Lancelot. You may take off when ready.”
“Roger, Lancelot. Thanks for the drink. See you in the air.”
“Roger.”
The two helicopters took off and disappeared noisily into the night. Behind us the flares would burn for a little while longer, then, one by one they would sputter and die, leaving the clearing dark and deserted.
CHAPTER
46
We finally saw water in the distance after too many hours in the air. We'd doglegged and flew into German airspace. With one last fuel stop in Belgium we were easily within range of home. Throughout the flight Eva and Jeurgen had been doing some fast talking on the radio, throwing the weight of the Vatican around, trying to convince several governments that they should let us cross their airspace.
It turned out that one last spanner was about to be thrown in the works.
“Galahad this is Lancelot. Eyes in the sky is advising that interceptors have been scrambled and are heading our way from the southeast. IFF says Mirage 2000s.”
I swore. We were on the screens of a distant RAF Sentry AWACS and we were being chased. The French Armée de l’Air had sent up some planes to come after us. We were only just passing over the European side of the English Channel, so there was no way we'd get home before the jets caught up with us.
“Roger, Lancelot. Get the fuck out of here, we’ll hit the deck and see if we can stay clear.”
The Chinook was faster than the Huey by a long way. It could, at least, get far enough ahead to get away.
“Negative, Galahad. We'll stick together. Give them something else to shoot at.”
“Lancelot, fuck off. That is an order.”
“Sorry, Galahad, seem to be having coms trouble. Didn't copy your last transmission.”
“Bastard.”
“Copy that.”
“Okay, let's dance.”
Both choppers swooped down. We were not quite skimming the waves but a big sailboat would have been in for a nasty surprise and, once we got out into the main shipping lanes we'd have to watch out for container ships.
“They can't shoot us down, can they?” asked Jeurgen in a horrified voice.
“Of course they can,” I replied.
“But we're over the busiest shipping lane in the world!”
“It doesn't matter,” I said. “The vamps control the media in Europe. They can say whatever the
y want.”
“But it would be murder!”
“It doesn't matter,” I growled. “The French would never admit it.”
The seconds ticked by, nervous, tense moments as we closed the distance between us and home. I was feeling like I'd eaten a lump of wet concrete, and I calculated the chances of us surviving a firefight. They were not good. We'd come this far only to be shot down by some very human pilots? Bugger that.
“Galahad, our eyes in the sky reports we have incoming friendlies.”
“Roger.”
I breathed a little easier. It was nice to have friends in fast, heavily armed chunks of metal.
The sky started to lighten as dawn approached. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a pair of Royal Navy BAE Harriers appeared in front of us. They were in full hover mode, waiting for us. As we blew past them at over a hundred and twenty miles an hour they bought their jet exhausts up and accelerated to match our speed. It was a beautiful sight. No jet aircraft should be able to move like a Harrier does, but the tiny V/STOL aircraft makes it look graceful and easy.
The pilot of the Harrier to our left waved and came on the radio.
“This is Echo Flight leader. Someone call for a chaperone?”
“Echo leader, this is Galahad. Good to see you.”
“Roger, Galahad, good to see you too. We’re almost home. Lancelot, put your foot down. It'll be easier for us to only protect one target.”
“Roger Echo leader. Galahad, make it home safe.”
“Roger Lancelot. Get the beers in.”
The big Chinook may look cumbersome and slow but it's actually faster than many attack helicopters in the air today. The distinctive slap of the Chinook's twin rotors, audible even over our own engines, sped up and the big chopper pulled away from us. It was quickly a shrinking dot in the distance. The pair of Harriers moved in a little closer. I felt new appreciation for the pilots. The little jets must have been hard to control at what was, for them, such a low speed, but the pilots were managing well.
“Echo leader, this is Galahad,” I said over the radio. “Any chance we can land on your carrier?”
“Negative, Galahad.”
I wondered why not but was smart enough not to ask over an open radio channel. Why the Navy pilots' aircraft carrier was unavailable wasn't nearly as important as the simple fact that it was unavailable.
Crusader (MPRD Book 2) Page 21
