Department 19: Battle Lines (47 page)

He thumbed open the message.

LOOK AT THIS ASAP. http://www.kevinmckenna.wordpress.com/blog/news/032154

Pete read the text twice, searching for any hidden meaning, then pocketed the phone and headed for home. He didn’t hurry; he doubted the link would contain anything life-changing.

He had no way of knowing exactly how wrong he was.

KEVINMCKENNA.COM – the online home of award-winning journalist Kevin McKenna

RED EYES AND BLACK UNIFORMS

Posted by KEVIN

I thought long and hard before writing this post. Believe me, I did.

I thought about the risk, about whether I might be endangering myself by writing it. I thought about the men and women who might read it, and whether they’re better off in the dark. I thought about the government and the security of the country, although I understand if you don’t believe me. I thought about it all, and I arrived at the most unshakeable conclusion of my life.

It’s worth the risk. It’s too important.

Right now, I’m not going to explain anything more than I have in the title of this post – if you don’t know what I’m talking about, be grateful, carry on with your day, and don’t give this a second thought. But if you do…

If you do, I want to hear from you. I want your stories. I want to know how many of you are out there.

Proxy up and post your stories in the comments below – I guarantee your anonymity. No one else needs to put their head above the parapet, at least not yet. If I get the response I’m expecting, if people are brave enough to talk about the things they’ve seen, I think we’ll see this start to move fast. But let’s wait and see.

Red eyes. Black uniforms.

Tell me. I believe you.

Kevin McKenna

Valentin Rusmanov’s appearance at the ISAT compound caused exactly the reaction among the men and women of the Intelligence Division that the ancient vampire lived for.

He walked through the open-plan desks of the Division as though he was taking a casual morning stroll, despite the Security Division Operators flanking him with their T-Bones drawn. Valentin was a superstar, one of the oldest vampires in the world, turned by Dracula himself, and opportunities to see him up close did not come along very often.

He was as immaculate as ever, the result of the attentive skills of Lamberton, his valet. His pale, handsome face was smooth, his charcoal suit crisp over a bright white shirt, his shoes gleaming like mirrors. Every single member of the Intelligence Division stopped what they were doing when he entered and stared openly at him; Valentin smiled back expansively, nodding at the Operators whose desks he passed closest by. He loved few things in the world more than attention, and the rapt expressions on the faces of the men and women sitting at their small grey workstations were an utter joy.

Kate Randall was waiting for him outside the security door that controlled access to ISAT. She watched him make his way towards her, disgusted by the reactions of her colleagues.

He’s a rock star
, she thought.
Despite all the thousands of people he’s killed. They’re like star-struck kids.

Valentin picked his way through the last of the desks and favoured her with a wide, dizzying smile. “Miss Randall,” he said, extending his hand. “What a pleasure it is to see you again. I trust you’re well?”

Kate shook the offered hand briefly. “I’m very well, thank you, Mr Rusmanov. If you’d like to follow me, we’ll get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“How professional you are,” said Valentin, his smile widening even further. “Even though one of your colleagues tried to kill you yesterday. Bravo, Miss Randall. Bravo.”

Don’t rise to him
, she told herself.
Don’t give him what he wants.

“As I said, Mr Rusmanov,” she replied, forcing a narrow smile, “if you’d like to follow me.” She typed a code into the panel beside the door, which unlocked with a series of clicks and thuds. She pulled it open and Valentin stepped through, followed closely by his guards.

Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself in preparation for what she had to do. When she opened them, she saw the silent ranks of the Intelligence Division staring at her.

“Haven’t you got any work to do?” she snapped, then walked into ISAT, pulling the door shut behind her.

Kate showed Valentin and his escorts into the interview room, and left the technicians wiring him into the chair. The vampire appeared to be taking it all in good humour, viewing the whole thing as little more than an amusing diversion, but she wasn’t quite convinced; she believed that, deep down, Valentin had to be finding this demeaning, or at the very least annoying.

I hope so
,
she thought.
I hope it’s really pissing him off.

She pushed open the door to the lounge and nodded to Paul Turner. The Security Officer was sitting on the sofa, reading Valentin Rusmanov’s file. The document had been compiled from the interrogation that had been conducted when the vampire first defected to Blacklight and was almost as thick as a phone directory.

“Two minutes,” said Kate.

Turner closed the file, and smiled at her. “Good,” he said. “You don’t mind me taking this one, right? I think it’s for the best.”

“It’s fine,” said Kate. “How deep are you going to go?”

“We’ve covered everything useful that he’s prepared to tell us,” said Turner, tapping the cover of the file. “Double-checking it all would take about a week. There are a couple of things I want to ask him again now that he’s hooked up, but mostly it’s about yesterday.”

“Do you think he did it?” asked Kate.

“No,” said Turner. “I don’t. Do you?”

Kate shook her head. “Part of me hopes that he did,” she said. “It would be a lot easier for everyone if his defection was a lie and he was still working for Dracula. But I don’t believe that’s the case.”

“Me neither,” said Turner. “If he was still working for Dracula, I don’t believe that he would waste his time targeting you and me. But a lot of Operators do, for now at least. So we need to get this done and get on with our job. Someone out there is hiding something and we need to find out who.”

Before they attack someone else
, thought Kate, and shivered.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Before we go in there,” said Turner, standing up, “I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you won’t let him get inside your head,” said Turner. “Whatever he says, whatever he asks you. Don’t give him what he wants.”

“Don’t worry,” said Kate, with a tight smile. “I won’t.”

Valentin was sitting in the chair as they entered the interview room, one foot resting casually on his other knee. His escort stood on either side of him, their T-Bones raised.

“Major Turner,” said the vampire, smiling broadly. “I honestly believe that, with the exception of Lamberton, I have conversed more with you than I have with anyone else in the last century or so. Surely there can’t be anything
else
you wish to ask me? My sexual proclivities perhaps? The regularity of my bowels?”

“Mr Rusmanov,” said Turner. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re most welcome,” replied Valentin. “Although your thanks imply that I had some kind of choice in the matter. If so, it wasn’t made clear to me.”

“We both know full well that if you had refused to leave your cell, there would have been very little we could do to compel you,” said Turner. “I was being polite. I can stop, if you would prefer?”

Valentin grinned. “Politeness is a rare commodity in this day and age, Major Turner, and I respect you enormously for keeping tradition alive.”

“Thank you,” replied the Security Officer. He took one of the seats at the desk, as Kate slipped into the other. She looked down at the screen set into its surface and saw the system was live.

“This is ISAT interview 072,” said Turner, his voice flat and even, “conducted by Major Paul Turner, NS303, 36-A in the presence of Lieutenant Kate Randall, NS303, 78-J. State your name, please.”

“Is this it?” asked Valentin. “Are we officially under way?”

“We are,” replied Turner. “State your name, please.”

“Valentin Rusmanov.”

Green.

“Please answer the following question incorrectly,” said Turner. “State your gender, please.”

“Female,” replied Valentin.

Red.

Kate took a deep breath.

Let’s go
, she thought.
Let’s do this.

“Mr Rusmanov,” said Turner. “Yesterday afternoon explosive devices were planted inside two rooms in this facility, with the clear intention of causing harm to members of this Department. Did you plant the devices in question?”

“Do you actually think I did?” asked Valentin, frowning. “Would you think so little of me, Major Turner? After all the time we have spent together?”

“Answer the question, please. Did you plant the devices?”

“Of course not.”

Green.

“Do you know who did?”

“No.”

Green.

“Do you have any information that could be relevant to identifying the perpetrator of this attack?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Green.

Kate breathed out heavily. The results were exactly what she had expected, but it had still been a relief to see the green lights on the screens; there had been an elephant in the room since the Zero Hour Task Force meeting the previous day.

If it had been him, what the hell were we supposed to have done about it?

“Thank you, Mr Rusmanov,” said Turner. “Now. I want to ask you about—”

“You didn’t think I did it, did you?” asked Valentin, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankle.

“Mr Rusmanov, I am not—”

“I’m sure many of your colleagues think I did,” continued Valentin. “For no other reason than it’s the obvious conclusion, and the majority of them are not terribly bright. So I understand why I was summoned to answer your questions, but I must confess I’m now somewhat intrigued as to why you had already concluded I was innocent. Would you indulge me? For politeness’ sake, if nothing else?”

“Mr Rusmanov,” said Paul Turner. “We are not here to satisfy your curiosity. We’re here to—”

“Excuse me, Major Turner,” interrupted Valentin. “But I’m afraid I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Miss Randall.”

Kate frowned. “Me?” she asked. “Why would you care what I think?”

“Because I know why Major Turner didn’t believe I was the culprit,” said Valentin. “He is a man of evidence, of probability, and I have no doubt he concluded that I was innocent by applying sound, no doubt deeply boring, logic. You, on the other hand, have not yet had the life drummed out of you by this drab, grey place. So you interest me, just as your colleague bores me to tears.”

“It might be wise for you to remember that you are a guest in this facility,” said Turner, his voice low. “And that I do not have infinite patience.”

“Then destroy me, by all means,” said Valentin, spreading his arms wide and pushing his chest forward. “Then go and explain to dear old Mr Holmwood that you did it because the nasty vampire was rude to you. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Turner didn’t reply, but a narrow smile emerged on his face, and his gaze didn’t leave Valentin’s.

If the time ever comes when we don’t need him any more
, thought Kate,
Valentin will regret some of the things he’s said. Paul isn’t going to forget them, I know that much.

“It didn’t seem like something you would do,” she said. “That’s why I didn’t think you did it.”

“Explain,” said Valentin.

“I thought exactly the same thing Major Turner did. If you were here on false pretences, if you were still working for Dracula, I thought you would have probably done something a lot worse than planting two bombs. And…”

“Go on,” said Valentin, his smile wide and unsettling. “Please.”

“It didn’t seem like your style,” said Kate. “Booby traps and home-made bombs. I suppose I felt you would consider that sort of thing beneath you.”

Valentin’s smile broadened into a grin. “Very good, Miss Randall,” he said. “Very good indeed. You are quite the insightful little thing, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said Kate. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“Oh, but of course you have,” said Valentin. “Everyone constantly thinks about themselves. We think about what we’re good at, and what we’re bad at, and we compare ourselves endlessly to those around us. You, for example. Do you think of yourself as the great Jamie Carpenter’s faithful sidekick? Of course you don’t, even though that is how the rest of the world sees you. You see yourself as an intelligent, insightful girl, cleverer than most, and you resent the fact that you are forced to live in Mr Carpenter’s shadow. Or am I wrong?”

“That’s enough,” said Turner. He cast a glance in her direction, a look she instantly understood.

Don’t give him what he wants.

“Did I offend you?” asked Valentin, his voice dripping with insincerity. “If so, forgive me. It was not my intention.”

“Yes, it was,” said Kate. “But that’s OK. And you’re right about some things, Mr Rusmanov. I guess that when you’ve lived a life as long as yours you become pretty good at reading people. But you’re wrong about Jamie. I don’t resent him and I’m proud to be his friend. And I really don’t care whether you believe that or not.”

“I do believe you,” said Valentin, softly. “And I know he feels the same about you.”

Kate knew she was doing exactly what she wasn’t supposed to by letting Valentin draw her into a conversation about herself and her friends. He was interested only in pushing her buttons, in eliciting the reactions he was looking for; it was nothing more than a game to him, a cruel entertainment.

“Did he tell you that?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

“Indirectly,” replied Valentin. “His mother was kind enough to pass the information on.”

Kate frowned. “When did you talk to Marie?”

“Oh, I drop in on her every now and then,” said Valentin. “I am somewhat starved of company downstairs, and it turns out that Mrs Carpenter loves few things more than a pot of tea and a civilised conversation. She and I have become rather close as a result.”