Pagan (MPRD Book 1)

by Andrew Chapman

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Suddenly Anna laughed too.

  “Jack, that’s a vile accuracy,” she said. “What our abrasive friend means is that there’s a small number of human women who chase homosexual men. People without manners call them ‘faghags’. The belief is that, yes, the guy may be homosexual now, but that’s just because he hasn’t met me.”

  Marguerite considered it for a second and then sighed.

  “Yes, that’s an apt, if uncouth, comparison,” she said. “But make no mistake, he will not be relying solely on his mental arsenal. He will be bringing his indominati or his inmüt, most likely both.”

  “And he knows I’m here, right?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Spies in the Ministry again?” I said bitterly.

  “Yes, it’s how I found out where to come.”

  “So we can’t even ask for backup or Marcus will know we’re expecting him,” I pointed out. “How many of these indominati does he have?”

  “Close to a thousand,” said Marguerite gravely.

  The revelation was greeted by a thunderous silence as we tried to swallow the sudden shift in odds. Not only were there far more of these creatures coming, they weren’t attacking on a broad front: they were all coming here.

  “Okay,” I said, thinking fast. “Okay, correct me if I’m wrong but these indominati are mindless, right?”

  Marguerite nodded.

  “So they won’t be dominating anyone, and they won’t be anything more than regular vampire fast and strong, right?”

  She nodded again. I paced the width of the room, gently tugging at my bottom lip, thinking hard.

  “And they won’t be able to heal,” I said finally. “Even regular rounds will stop them cold.”

  “Why won’t they be able to heal?” asked Marie.

  “Because it takes a conscious effort to heal quickly,” said Anna, nodding thoughtfully.

  “Okay, so that’s two things in our favor,” I said. “As soon as the sun’s up I’ll need to go speak with someone. Several someones, actually.”

  “Okay,” said Marie. “Need some company?”

  “Always,” I said with a smile.

  CHAPTER

  38

  Marie pulled the Saxon into a car park behind an unimpressive brick building that had once housed a hardware store. Now the windows were boarded up, the main shop was full of debris, but the cellar contained a weapons dealer and gunsmith.

  I jumped down from the Saxon and hammered on the back door. After a second there was high-pitched squeal as a peephole was uncovered.

  “Whatcha want?” came a petulant voice from inside.

  “I want a dozen red roses, what do you think I want?” I snapped. “I want guns you crotchety old fart.”

  There was silence from the other side of the door.

  “How d’you know I’m old?” came the voice again.

  I leaned close to the door and peered into the peephole.

  “Albert Thatcher, you need your eyes testing,” I said.

  “What’s the password?”

  This one I was ready for. I held up a bottle of whiskey that I’d ‘liberated’ from the inn’s stock.

  “Famous Grouse,” I said brightly.

  There came the noise of several heavy bolts being slammed back and the door creaked open. A white-haired man with a neat little white mustache looked out, peering over half-moon spectacles.

  “Close enough, Pagan,” said Albert. “My word, you just get uglier each time I see you.”

  “Back atcha, Albert,” I said, handing over the bottle and beckoning Marie to follow me inside.

  “And who is this lovely lady, your daughter?” said Albert, twinkling in the manner of chipper old men everywhere.

  “Now you know I don’t have any kids, Albert,” I said.

  “Yet,” said Marie with a strange little smile.

  “Oh-ho!” said Albert. “She’s the reason for the mail run, eh?”

  He caught Marie’s questioning look.

  “Don’t worry, miss,” he said. “No insult at all. It’s just that when I was in the army, the men with the prettiest sweethearts back home were always the ones who ran fastest when the mail arrived. I don’t suppose much has changed in that respect.”

  “Not in the slightest,” I replied.

  “Well, follow me, Sir and Ma’am, let us see what we can provide you with.”

  Albert led the way to the rear of the shop where a freight elevator stood open. We rode down to the cellar and stepped into a room that was far too big to be under the building above.

  “Like it?” said Albert proudly. “I had the Ministry knock through into the cellars on either side. We blocked up the stairwells with concrete and installed the elevator. Now it’s the only way in or out and I control it. I have air and water filtration, large food stockpile and, obviously, enough weapons to take over a small country. I could survive a nuclear war down here.”

  “Impressive,” I said, taking in the racks of rifles, machine guns, SMGs, pistols, assault rifles and box upon box of ammunition that lined the walls and formed piles in the center of the room.

  “So, can I get you a cup of tea?” he asked.

  “Please,” I replied.

  “I don’t know what we have in the way of biscuits,” he said as he shuffled towards the back of the cellar. “I’m sure we shall be able to scare something up, though.”

  Once the tea had been made and Albert had discovered an unopened pack of digestives, talk turned to weapons.

  “So, what can I get for you?” he said sipping tea from an old tin mug.

  “First, we need M203s and the pistol grip attachments,” I said.

  “Ah, M203s,” he said, walking along the rows of military hardware. “M203s are hard to come by these days, but I do have a crate of those HK69 grenade launchers the Army’s using. They come with a pistol grip so they’re ready as a stand-alone.”

  He peered closely at olive green weapons cases and then tapped one meaningfully.

  “Hike this one up onto the bench, will you?”

  I picked the heavy case up and carried it to the pitted and scarred workbench in the corner.

  “Well, it says twenty on the case, but lets see if any are missing,” he said as he opened the case. “No, you’re in luck, they’re all here. What else do you need?”

  “Grenades for the launchers?”

  Albert gave me a dirty look.

  “You wouldn’t insult me by suggesting I’d let you leave here with guns but no ammunition, would you?” he said.

  “No sir, I would not.”

  “Good,” he said, peering at another stack of cases. “What do you need? Incendiary?”

  “Fragmentation,” I replied.

  “Good. Incendiary rounds are in short supply. Apparently all you hunters are screaming for them. Fragmentation I have.”

  He tapped another case and I lifted it onto the bench. He opened it and row upon row of 40mm grenades were revealed.

  “Anything else?”

  “Tracer rounds, both seven six-two and five five-six.”

  “Well, seven six-two might be a problem. Five five-six tracer we have by the box load.”

  He tapped a pair of small plastic cases and I carried them to the bench.

  “Well, I tell a lie, I do have some seven six-two. Only a hundred rounds, but I do have some.”

  He came back with a small case and put it on the bench.

  “Anything else?”

  “I need a couple of assault rifles. AUGs maybe, or M16s?”

  “Something a little more reliable than an SA80, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, the latest versions—the L85s that were redesigned and repaired by Heckler & Koch—are damn fine weapons.”

  “Do you have any of those?”

  “A couple.”

  “Spare mags?”

  “By the ton.”

  “I’ll take them and, say, a dozen mags
for each. And enough ammo to fill them, plus a hundred rounds more.”

  “Got something big going down, Pagan?”

  “Yeah, you might say that,” I said. “I’ll also need rounds for a Dragunov SVD and an Accuracy International AWSM.”

  “The AWSM rounds I have but nobody uses the Dragunov so they don’t issue them.”

  “Okay, got any shotgun shells?”

  “For that?” he said, gesturing at my FAL’s underslung shotgun.

  “And the L128A1.”

  “I have enough to throw a party,” he said.

  “Anti-personnel mines?” I asked.

  There was a thoughtful pause.

  “They’re illegal, against international treaties and human rights commission regulations,” he said carefully.

  “I didn’t ask you whether they were legal,” I said, just as carefully. “I asked you if you had any.”

  “Let me see what I can find.”

  CHAPTER

  39

  “So we’re just going to leave this side of the city completely unprotected?” said the lean, scar-faced man angrily.

  “Yes, Spartan,” I replied with what was, for me, inhuman patience. “Because this wanker is coming for my team and I. He’s not coming to take the city.”

  “And for that we have only the word of a vampire, right?” replied Spartan coldly.

  “No,” I said firmly. “For that you have my word.”

  “We have our orders,” he said stubbornly. “We patrol the city and that means the whole city.”

  “Fuck your orders!” I hissed. “Those orders were given by people who weren’t in full possession of the facts!”

  “Orders are orders Pagan,” said a voice from the back of the bar. “We are soldiers.”

  I stepped back and looked around. There were five teams staying at The Rising Sun. Spartan was an old friend from the Marines, but I always got the impression that he resented my decision to go for Selection. Behind my back he was supposed to be calling me ‘the glory hound’ and making jokes about my relationship with Marie being tantamount to bestiality. Frankly, I didn’t give a fuck what he thought of me as long as he killed vampires, and he killed vampires very well.

  “You’re wrong,” I said, raising my voice. “We’re not soldiers. We’re vampire hunters and if you want to hunt vampires, you know where the Falcon is. Come by before dark and we’ll have plenty to pass around. If you wanna stand around pulling your puds, be my guest. You can watch the pretty fireworks from a safe spot. I’m done. I have things to do.”

  I turned and walked out.

  “Nice exit, boss,” said Marie, hurrying to keep up with me as I strode angrily towards the Saxon.

  “Ah, fuck ‘em,” I said sourly. “I don’t have time to mess about.”

  We’d visited seven safe houses this morning and I was, despite appearances, pleased with the result. I knew six of the teams I’d spoken with would be coming no matter what, and another three were likely to turn up. If this Marcus was bluffing and actually intended to take the city, I was pulling our forces out of his way in no uncertain manner. But my instincts said he was coming for me, and I had a surprise planned for him.

  “Where to now, boss?” said Marie, breaking my reverie.

  “Back to the Falcon,” I said. “We’ll get the stuff unloaded and go to bed.”

  “Yum,” she said, grinning.

  I laughed and trailed my fingers over her firm butt as she climbed into the truck. I didn’t feel the need to climb into the cupola but, instead, grabbed a handhold and stood behind her. The Saxon pulled out of the Rising Sun’s car park and accelerated down the road.

  It took us the best part of an hour to get back to the Falcon and unload all of the guns and ammunition. By the time we were finished it was nearing midday and we trooped wearily into our room. I started pulling my clothes off. Marie was leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door, watching me intently.

  “Enjoying the view?” I said as I placed my body armor on the back of a chair.

  “Certainly am,” she replied.

  I laughed and sat down to take off my boots and socks.

  “Are you likely to be getting naked any time soon?” I asked as I stood up again.

  “I might,” she said with her cheeky smile.

  “Oh, well, then let me rephrase that,” I said as I took off my gunbelt. “Take your clothes off. Now.”

  She made an appreciative noise as she unzipped her jacket.

  “You’re getting better at that,” she breathed.

  She pulled off her t-shirt and, underneath she was wearing a plain white bra. It had no lace, no push-up, and no pattern. It was just plain white cotton that fastened in the front. And it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  My trousers hit the floor and I walked over to her as she took off her boots.

  She looked up at me and smiled.

  “Look, I match,” she said lightly as she dropped her trousers.

  Underneath she was wearing a pair of plain white string bikini panties. Normally, white cotton underwear on a woman looks cutesy, like she’s trying for the schoolgirl look. On Marie it looked incredibly erotic. Of course, Marie would have turned me on if she were wearing a full NBC suit complete with overshoes, respirator and hood, but still, wow.

  “Anna told me about making sure my underwear matches,” she said softly. “Apparently it drives men crazy.”

  “Let’s not talk about Anna,” I said, trailing my fingertips over the flat plane of her stomach. “Or anyone else for that matter.”

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  “Of course I love her,” I said. “She’s one of my closest friends.”

  “No, I mean you really love her.”

  I looked into her eyes, expecting pain or even tears, but there was just an intense interest. There really wasn’t much of a choice here. I had to answer her honestly.

  “I think I used to,” I said. “It was more than a crush, more than just an infatuation with a beautiful woman.”

  I trailed off, struggling with the difficulty of what I was thinking.

  “What is it, Jack?”

  “Once—just once—I wished that John would die on a mission so I could have Anna to myself,” I said in a whisper.

  I sighed inwardly. How had we arrived here? Two minutes ago we were on the fast train to sexville. Now we were taking a detour through the dark underground of my deepest secrets.

  “So what changed for you?”

  “She had a birthday.”

  “A birthday?”

  “Yeah, we had a big party. It was a lot of fun and a lot of hunters were there, along with her family and his. I’d bought her a bracelet, a gold bracelet with her name engraved on it.”

  “The one she was wearing the other night at the restaurant?”

  “That’s the one. I don’t think she knows why I gave it to her, how I felt about her.”

  “She knows. How do you think I knew?”

  “She told you?” I asked sharply.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said.

  “She loved the bracelet, put it on immediately. Gave me a hug. I was doing the typical guy thing, thinking that flashy, expensive gifts could win over any woman worth having and being totally wrong about it. John gave her a gift he’d picked up when he was helping to set up the training camp near Hunstanton. It was a seashell with all these tiny pebbles glued to it, all painted bright colors with little eyes. And in front of all these pebbles were five other pebbles with little wooden guitars and a drum set. It was badly made, there were blobs of glue everywhere and most of the little pebbles were cross-eyed. There was a little sign on the front that read ‘rock concert’.”

  Marie laughed. I knew how she felt. The scene was so endearing you couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Anna just loved that thing,” I said. “Still does. I know she still has it. When she unwrapped it she let out this earsplitting shriek and hugged him and kissed him. I mean, she was wear
ing hundreds of pounds worth of gold on her wrist and yet she was losing it over a badly-made seaside souvenir that probably cost him three quid.”

  “And that hurt you?”

  “No! Not at all, it was like a bucket of water in the face. It was like—it was a realization. I suddenly saw that I didn’t know her at all. That I didn’t get what made her tick. So I decided to get to know her better, her and John.”

  “And?”

  “And after a few months I suddenly realized that I didn’t think about her that way anymore. She—they—had become my close friends. The me that I am now would kick the crap out of the me that I was back then for wishing harm to John.”

  “That was a nice story, Jack and, even if you didn’t get to play the good guy, it had a happy ending. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being honest with me.”

  “Any time,” I said and kissed her gently.

  “Any time?” she asked. “So if I ask you a question, I get an honest answer? No matter how difficult?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Are we going to be able to stop this Marcus character?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I honestly don’t know. But I’m going to throw everything I can at him and I’ll die before I let him take you.”

  “Don’t,” she said sharply. “Don’t say that. If he does take me you need to be alive to come find me.”

  “It won’t come to that. He’s going to die and that’ll be the end of it.”

  “Promise?” she said, lowering her chin and looking up at me.

  “I promise.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that Marie might be less afraid of what Marcus might do to her than what might happen if she fell into Dannor’s hands.

  “I’ll kill Dannor for you, too,” I said, touching her cheek.

  “Oh, that would be very nice darling, but don’t set your heart on the idea. I intend to kill Dannor myself. I owe him more than you can possibly imagine and I’m going to pay it all back in blood. His blood.”

  CHAPTER

  40

  As the sun started to dip towards the horizon vampire hunter teams started to arrive. I worked each one into the battle plan, placing each where I thought they would be most useful. John and Anna hadn’t emerged yet and wouldn’t until after dark. Knuckles had, some thirty minutes ago, firmly taken Rock Ape upstairs, finally blowing the worst kept secret in military history. Bolt and Callie had similarly disappeared. Couples were spending time together, getting and giving what comfort they could.