by David Page
"Yes, I suppose it is. The blood of a vampire is fascinating stuff. What specialist could pass up the opportunity to study it up close and personal?" Nash glanced at Beth, then back at him. His smile remained plastered to his face.
Beth waved a hand in front of his face. "You can stop drooling."
"Apologies, my scientific curiosity always seems to get the better of me." Nash laughed.
Richard stiffened. Scientists had created the virus and thrust him into a life he had never wanted. Despite the man's ever-present smile, he would bear watching.
Beth cleared her throat. "We shouldn't keep Vincent waiting."
"Right." Richard cast a final look at Nash then steeled himself to meet their enigmatic liege.
"Right." Nash grinned like a schoolboy. "I'll see you soon." He retrieved his clipboard and headed towards the man at the electron microscope.
Beth led Richard back through the plastic airlock, and paused at the door. She ignored Ringo.
"What is it?" Richard halted a step behind her.
"I've never met Vincent.” She tilted her head to one side without looking back. “It's funny that I could never get near him until you came into the picture."
"How does that expression go, ‘money talks?’"
"You've got a point there." She continued down the hall, turning off the main passage into a narrow corridor that headed towards a single open doorway. Light emerging from the room beyond offered the only source of illumination, making the tunnel seem longer than it really was. They arrived at the doorway in under a minute and Beth hurried inside.
Richard followed her.
Condensation dripped from the old water pipes that ran along the ceiling. Apparently, they were still in use for the building above. Richard had become so turned around that he had no idea what building was above them. On the back wall, a large freight elevator stood with its wire mesh doors closed. It was covered with dirt, rust, and sawdust.
Beth motioned to towards the lift. "This was forgotten by the building management upstairs. We fixed it up for our use. The sub-basement provided us with a great base of operations." She slid the gate open, closing it when he followed her inside.
She pressed the bottom, and only lighted button on the worn panel. A screech of gears preceded the slight drop and then the car moved smoothly downwards.
14
The door squealed as Beth slid it to the side. The elevator had stopped on a cement loading platform. Another metal door, this one with a viewing slit at eye level, barred their path. To each side, a tall heavily muscled man in matching army fatigues sat on a wooden chair with a pistol in his lap. The blond haired and blue eyed men bore enough of a resemblance that Richard was sure they were brothers.
Beth smiled nervously. "Hey John, Phil."
"Beth,” John nodded.
Phil waved casually rather than speaking, motioned to Richard with a tilt of his head, a question in his eyes.
"They’re waiting for you inside." John pointed to the door. "Go on in."
The door opened as quietly as the others, revealing a large rectangular room made of huge, chiseled granite blocks. A fit, olive-skinned man watched them from behind an oval conference table, his dark eyes intense. He wore a dark blue shirt with black dress slacks giving him a refined professional look. Two pistols rested comfortably in shoulder holsters wrapped around his torso and he seemed capable of using them if needed. Behind him, a large plasma screen hung along the back wall like a tapestry. If not for the technology present in the room, Richard might have thought he was in a medieval council of war. He almost expected to see maps spread out on the table and dogs running around begging for scraps of meat.
Beth paused just inside the doorway. As Richard came up alongside of her, he noticed that she was staring at the man on the other end of the table.
"Richard, Beth, please have a seat." The man motioned with a casual wave to the multiple chairs pushed up against the table. He then rubbed his smooth jaw and watched them.
Richard met the man’s gaze head on, intent on discerning whether he was the mythical Radovan or not. The man was brave to meet them alone without any guards present. His life could still be snuffed out in an instant by a trained professional. He was either very trusting or very secure in his environment. Perhaps he was both. Either way, that impressed Richard. He took a seat along the right-hand side of the table with a two-chair buffer between the man and himself. Beth sat opposite him.
The man swiveled his chair to face Beth. "It’s good to meet you, finally. You’ve done great work here, especially with Richard."
"Thank you, Mr. Radovan." Beth smiled demurely.
"Well, Richard….” Radovan turned towards him and crossed his arms. “Are you sufficiently satisfied with my organization to grant us your support?"
Richard eased back in the chair and studied him. If this man was Vincent Radovan, then he would have the leadership ability to adjust and adapt his approach to whatever Richard might say to him.
"Truthfully, Vincent," he deliberately used the man's first name. "I have seen little to sway me."
"I see. Would you care to elaborate?" Vincent leaned forward, folding his hands in front of him.
"Of course." Richard smiled disarmingly. "It is obvious from this facility that you do have some funding. Given that fact, I fail to see the need for the massive amount of money you have requested from me."
Vincent's face flushed. He tapped his thumbs against each other nervously. He was very adept at maintaining eye contact. "We have been fairly well funded up to this point, but our money has about run out. If we’re going to continue our work, we need your help. It's that simple."
"I see. Very good."
“Is that all?” Radovan asked.
“Not quite.” Richard motioned to the room with an expansive sweep of one arm. "I would like to know how you got all this equipment down here without the Department finding out."
“We have moved carefully.” Vincent brought his hands up in front of him and formed a church steeple with his index fingers as if he were considering Richard's request. He finally shook his head. "And that’s all I’m prepared to tell you on that topic. I'm afraid I can't reveal all our secrets, even to you. "
"Of course." Richard nodded sagely. Radovan had retained his composure, however the last answer left much to be desired and Richard was certain the man was bluffing. “I do have a few more questions, however.”
“Go on?” A few drops of sweat formed on Radovan’s brow but he continued to meet Richard’s gaze unflinchingly.
“I want to know why you became involved in the vampire movement.” Richard chuckled softly. “I suppose you’ve done more than become involved, haven’t you? According to urban myth, you started the movement single-handedly.”
Vincent lowered his hands to the table and smiled. “Many myths could be said to have their basis in fact. To answer your question, I was twenty-five years old when the Announcement came and the government revealed your existence. I was teaching ancient history at the graduate level and realized the massive potential to learn from your kind. I went to the Boston internment camp and started interviewing your vampire brethren.” He paused and took a slow breath. “During these interviews, I befriended one woman in particular and as I continued to see her we fell in love.”
“This was in Boston?” Richard frowned. The tale of love sounded more like a bad romance novel than the truth.
Radovan nodded. “Yes.”
“Perhaps I know of this woman?” Richard had been imprisoned in that camp for two years.
“I…” Radovan stammered. “I don’t think so. She died before your capture.” He bowed his head and wiped away the tears that had suddenly flowed freely down his face.
“I’m sorry. I did not realize….” Richard paused, certain now that despite this man’s excellent performance, he was a fake. Regardless, however, he was compelled to play along with the charade. “I am satisfied and am ready to participate in this endeavor.
Let us proceed.”
“Excellent.” Vincent perked up again. “Your support will make a cure a reality." He stood up, hand extended.
"We have a telephone ready in room four. You can use it for your funds transfer.” Radovan motioned to Beth. “Can you please escort Richard there?"
Beth stared at him for a moment as if she had not heard him. The left corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
"Beth?" He repeated himself.
"I'm sorry, I was thinking. Of course, I'll take Richard." She came around the table and extended her hand to the man. "Thanks for letting me attend this meeting."
"Don't mention it. Keep up the good work." Vincent shook her hand as well.
She nodded, turned and walked past Richard, heading for the door. "Come on." Her voice sounded strained.
Richard cast a final look back at Radovan, and then followed her out the door.
***
"Is something wrong, Beth?" Richard positioned himself between her and the room's open door.
After leaving the conference room, Beth had led him through several passages to a door that was so covered with rust Richard was surprised it opened. A battered black phone sat on a small table in the middle of a dirt floor, waiting for him to dial and begin the money transfer. There did not appear to be any kind of surveillance. In fact, there was not much of anything, just old brick walls, an open doorway, and the phone table.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I might not have my vampire senses, but I have had one-thousand years to study human facial expressions. You were concerned about our Mr. Radovan. Why?"
Why would I be concerned?” She looked up and to the left as if debating how much to tell him. After a moment, she shrugged. "I've never met the man until now."
"But there was something that bothered you."
“It’s your imagination.” She shifted her weight from side to side. "Richard, you are the most paranoid person I've ever met."
“Perhaps that is why I have remained alive for so long.” He liked the fact that she had called him a person.
“How did you survive a thousand years? The average age of a vampire is under three-hundred." She crossed her arms.
"I fail to see the relevance of that question."
"Humor me. It could help."
Help with what? Richard was not quite sure how knowing that could alter their current predicament. He chose his words carefully, still unwilling to give her too much information about his silent quest.
"I have a purpose that has driven me since the day I rose from my shallow grave on a forgotten battlefield in France." He paused, remembering waking under the earth, digging his way out through other corpses and finally emerging into the night under the light of a clear, star-lit sky, filled with a power undreamed of and an unquenchable lust for blood.
Her eyes narrowed. "And that purpose was enough to keep you going for a thousand years and nearly a decade of imprisonment at the hands of the Department?"
"Yes, if barely." Richard closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep the memories of the past decade buried in his mind. He opened them again and studied her.
"What was it?” She leaned closer to him, her face eager. “What purpose could have kept you going through the ages?"
"I… I am not ready to discuss that. It is personal.” He felt his face flushing under her gaze.
Eventually we're going to have to trust each other, Richard." She studied him for another moment.
“Later perhaps.” The truth was, he wanted to tell her. Had wanted to tell someone for so long. But there was too much happening now to open that door and given the fact that her organization had just introduced him to a fake Radovan, he was not inclined to trust her just yet.
“Fine.” She motioned to the phone. "Are you going to make that call?”
“Very well.” Richard picked up the receiver and glanced at Beth again. "Account number?"
She shoved a hand into her leather coat and retrieved a small slip of paper. She thrust it toward him and nearly hit him in the process. Ignoring her irritation, Richard took the note and discovered a Swiss bank code complete with routing information scrawled in pen. He nodded in satisfaction.
"Excellent. Now let us see if I still have the money everyone seems to believe I have."
He dialed into his bank's access line for the first time in ten years. As he prepared to transfer all the money from one of his accounts, he wondered how the real Radovan and the others would react when they found out that he had short changed them.
***
"Dr. Nash asked that you wait here. He thought you might want to relax while they verify the money transfer. This will be your room while you're here." Beth averted her eyes suddenly and surprisingly.
She had led Richard from the phone room down several connecting dirt floored passages and through another, metal door into the room in which they now stood. Barely larger than the vestibules in which the Benedictine monks of Cluny had spent their days in prayer, there was only enough room for the bunk bed and three-drawer dresser. Another battered phone hung cockeyed from a long metal spike that stuck out of the cement wall. A small shaded lamp provided dim light. The back wall of the room, and wall was a term he used loosely, was a large pile of stone and dirt leading him to believe that this was simply another hallway that had partially collapsed leaving behind a perfect little room. He wondered if the large oak beams above would hold the rest of the building up.
"What?" She followed his gaze to the walls.
Richard motioned with a wave of one arm. "I was just wondering if the rest of the ceiling is stronger than the section back there." He pointed at the debris in the rear.
"Don't worry,” Beth's mouth twitched as if she were trying to smile. “That collapsed in the quake of ‘65. I'm sure it's fine."
Richard nodded doing his best to appear braver than he felt.
"Can I assume that you and your people expect me to remain here when I sleep? Or are you planning some kind of rotation for my free time?" He peered into her eyes, looking for the slightest hint of a reaction.
"I'm not sure what you mean." Her delicate lips closed tightly.
"The question was straight-forward." Richard tensed.
"Richard, we've shown you our lab, you've given us your money and agreed to help us. You can't leave now." She said it so matter-of-factly that if he hadn't been looking right at her, he would have thought she were someone else. “For better or worse, we are in this together now.”
"So, you intend to hold me against my will." His face flushed and his hands shook slightly as anger overtook him. He had been so preoccupied with Frederick’s new virus and his mission to learn the identity of Radovan, he had failed to consider that they might take him hostage.
"This is the way it needs to be. We’re only trying to protect ourselves and you too." Her eyes widened as she finally met his. She took a step back. “I thought you would understand. We're doing this for you."
"If that is true, then why not tell me this part of the arrangement before you had me here." He balled his fists.
"I know this doesn't look good, but we don’t have a lot of time and we couldn't take a chance that you might say no." She continued to back towards the door.
Richard took a slow deep breath. He had not considered this, but given Frederick’s directives, it hardly mattered. He nodded.
“I understand.”
"I’m glad. I will check on you later." She stepped back through the open door, pulling it behind her. She paused when only a few inches of open space remained between the door and the wall. Her stoic expression collapsed, replaced by a furrowed brow. Finally, she closed the door completely. Metal squeaked as the lock bar slid into place.
Richard paced toward the bed. For the moment, he was trapped, but it would not take long for them to realize he had not given them the amount of money upon which they had agreed. Soon, they would come running and then he would have some bargaining power.
H
e stretched out on the bed, put his arms behind his head and waited, conscious of the fact that each passing minute allowed whatever Frederick’s men had injected him with to work its way through his system bringing him closer to death. Time was running out.
15
The door screamed on its rusted hinges as it was torn open. Ringo loomed in the entrance for a moment and then stepped aside and crossed his beefy arms. A pistol was clearly visible in his waistband. The cold look Richard had observed in his eyes told him that he could and would draw the weapon in an instant.
"You!" Nash stormed past the thug and into the room, his face was beet red and a vein in his forehead pulsed as if it might burst. He stabbed one stubby finger towards Richard as he closed to within a foot of him. "What kind of game are you playing? You only transferred a hundred thousand dollars into our account. That's not what we agreed upon."
"That is true." Richard sat up, swung his legs off the bed and smiled.
"You think this is funny?" Nash's eyes bugged.
"I do indeed find it humorous that neither of us delivered what was promised."
Nash's eyes narrowed and his shoulders dipped. "You can't tell me that someone as old as you could have not realized that we meant to keep you here."
"That is not the lie to which I was referring." Richard smiled now.
"What then?" Nash's eyes narrowed.
"You agreed to introduce me to Vincent Radovan."
"And?" Nash shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.
"The man I met was not Radovan."
"I assure you, Richard…"
"Don’t patronize me, Doctor.” Richard waved him to silence. “That man is an excellent actor, however he is not the true Radovan."
Nash paused to study him for a moment, the look in his eyes becoming hard, shrewd. He nodded. "Okay, you got us. The fact is, we couldn't risk taking any chances where Mr. Radovan's identity is concerned and we needed to get you here."
