Authors: Regina Morris
“C’mon, everybody’s got a price. What do you say?”
“You breached the perimeter of the White House in an effort to kill the President,” Raymond accused.
“I did a job, but I wasn’t sent to kill anybody.”
Raymond studied at the man in disgust. “Tell that to the guards you attacked and the pregnant woman you killed as you fled.”
The forger’s eyes widened, as if thinking of anything to say to save his life. After a moment, he finally blurted out, “I tried to plant bugs. I also had to deliver documents. That’s all!”
“Name the target.” Raymond growled.
An answer squeaked out, “The President.”
“What about the documents?” Sterling asked.
The forger eyes darted over to Sterling. “The drop didn’t take place. No one showed up at the appointed time.”
“Perhaps you were expendable,” Ben chimed in. He glanced over to Raymond. “Or, the documents were no longer of use.”
“The documents are fine,” the forger barked out with pride.
Raymond looked over to the backpack. “We’ll be taking those
fine
documents off your hands.” Moving the dagger so the blade reflected the dim moonlight, he added, “There’s also a price to pay for the lives you took.” Raymond plunged the dagger into the vampire’s heart. Instantly, Raymond’s knees sank into the dirt as the vampire disappeared beneath him. A cloud of dust scattered across Raymond’s fatigues and the once shiny blade now lay stained in a dusty mound on the ground. The last remains of the captive.
Ben knelt down beside Raymond, “We’ll have to list him as an enemy killed in action,” he said as he collected what was left of the EKIA for DNA.
“We need to inform the Director and Homeland Security about this breach,” Raymond said as he stood and shook the dust from his pants.
Nodding, Sterling took out his phone, “Dixon, we need to meet. McGregor’s Pub. Give us an hour.”
*******
McGregor’s pub sat on the outskirts of the suburbs – the type of place with a back lawn as a parking lot, beer (not Appletinis) filling the taps , and a bartender always ready for you to bend his ear. The lit neon beer signs shined through the window and glass door, so Raymond led the team in.
They strode past the long bar counter, with its many empty stools sitting in a row. The few tables in the place were clustered together. Booths and pool tables took up all the room in the way back. The older place remained kept up, at least to the point where you could sit down and not worry about sticking to the chairs. They found Dixon sitting in his usual back corner booth drinking a beer.
“Dixon, good you could make it here so fast,” Raymond said as they approached the older man.
The waitress eyed the three handsome men as soon as they entered, and bustled to the booth to take their order. As she approached, she eyed each one as though sizing them up. Each stood well over six feet in height, and offered her various flavors to choose from. Raymond, towering over the others and striking with his dark hair and pale, flawless skin, sat down next to Dixon. The other two men squeezed their large frames into the other side of the booth. The shorter of the two, with his long blond locks and playboy appearance managing to look like he was lounging even in the small space, seemed to have tempted the waitress, as did the cocoa brown skinned and powerfully built muscles of the other. Of course, each one was her senior by over a century, but that was undetectable. “You boys want something?” She winked over at Ben as her chosen favorite. Obviously, nothing was wrong with a little brown sugar in her sugar bowl tonight.
Raymond searched deep into her eyes and willed the human to obey him. “Quickly finish closing. We’ll lock up when we’re done here.” As he compelled the waitress, Ben rose with his usual military precision to contend with the bartender. At a stern glance from his father, Sterling slouched over to each of the few patrons in the place. The pub cleared within minutes. The men helped themselves to drinks and gathered around their table.
“OK, I’m guessing this has to do with what happened earlier tonight on the south lawn of the White House,” Dixon said, scratching the gray whiskers of his five o’clock shadow. He then added, “The guards are fine. The hospital released them a short while ago. Naturally, the media frenzy is still going on. The incident has been classified as a random attack with the assailant having been captured. We used a classified, random picture to represent him to the media, and they seemed to have accepted it.”
“Has the President been briefed about the event?” asked Raymond.
“Yes. He was unaware of the breach at the time. He is still safely tucked away in the residence quarters, probably asleep by now.” Dixon raised an eyebrow. “Nobody suspects anything, but am I correct in assuming the man was a vampire?”
“Yes.” Raymond nodded towards Ben. “Show him.”
Ben shrugged the backpack off his massive shoulders and handed the satchel over to Dixon, who opened the bag and studied its contents.
“These forged documents are damn good copies of the invite to the President’s state dinner.” He continued to scan the bag. “And, four security passes and paperwork as well. Christ,” Dixon cursed.
“The forger is an EKIA. He gave us quite a chase. He planned to ditch us in a park outside the city, but we got him.” Raymond sighed. “He also took a pregnant woman hostage at the start of the chase. She didn’t survive. By now, her body has been discovered.” Raymond glanced across the table with saddened eyes at his team members. The pain of the loss hung in the air.
“There was no way to save her.” Ben then shifted gears, pointing to the forged documents. “With the dinner still days away, there’s time to get new passes made.”
Dixon didn’t comment on the death. They all knew she’d become another unsolved murder, just like all the others. “I’m sure you did what you could.” Dixon studied the evidence in his hand. “At least these passes contain pictures. Should be good for some facial recognition software … might get a hit in the FBI, CIA or police databases. Obviously the people on the IDs will try to infiltrate the state dinner next week. The President is in grave danger.” Setting the IDs aside, he asked, “Any idea what might be on the memory cards?”
“Probably backups of these documents,” Sterling tossed out.
“If we’re lucky, possibly Intel about the leader. This vamp was a good forger, and he may have given us a good chase, but he wasn’t the brains behind the operation,” Ben added.
Sterling pointed his gloved finger at the backpack, “I didn’t sense anything off the docs or the tech stuff, but I got a reading off the backpack. The forger seemed to be a loner and did this job only for the money. He didn’t know and didn’t care about any bigger plan.”
The team was well aware of Sterling’s ability to acquire information from inanimate objects, and Dixon was no exception. He brushed his fingertips against the fabric of the bag. “We’ll need to find out who hired him. I’ll make sure the Director of Homeland Security gets access to these findings, including that the assault was committed by a vampire.”
“We’ll provide what information we can from the tech pieces,” Raymond offered. “With the forger now dead, whoever hired him may suspect immortals to have taken him out, since humans couldn’t have dispatched him so easily. If the leader is also a vampire, they’ll be taking their game up a notch when this vampire fails once again to show up with the passes. We’ll need to be more careful.”
Dixon nodded. “Right.” He shifted in his seat and drained his beer.
Raymond carefully observed his old friend. “So what’s bugging you tonight? I can feel your thought patterns, and I can tell you’re anxious about something.”
“Yeah, I’ve wanted to talk with you boys about something for a while now.” Dixon took a deep breath. “I’m going to retire. I’ve pushed off retirement as much as I could, but the years are getting to me now. It’s time to hand the reigns over to the next Director for you boys.”
The men at the table were deadly quiet now as they studied Dixon’s face and took a good look at the man they had known for decades. “Are you sure?” Raymond asked. “I mean, we’ve had a lot of Directors in the past, but we see you as part of our team. Are you really that old?”
“You know my age, Raymond. I’m not old, but I’m also not young anymore,” he sighed. His face suddenly appeared more aged to Raymond.
Only the President and a handful of people knew about the Colony and its immortal vampires who worked for the federal government. Once you left the inner circle your memories were erased. Raymond had performed the memory wipe many times and the process was always complete, decisive, and permanent.
“I’ve been reviewing possible candidates and I think I have the perfect replacement. Raymond, I’d like for the two of you to meet so I can see what you think of the Captain. How about this Friday at 8 a.m.?”
“Whatever you need,” Raymond agreed. He suspected Dixon wanted to talk more, but the late hour didn’t afford them the opportunity. With the unspoken language most old friends seem to have, Raymond looked over at Dixon, tilted his head slightly, and lifted an eyebrow.
Raymond was happy the message was received. Dixon nodded, “Let’s put everything in motion, just like we talked about.” The exchange wasn’t noticed by the other team members, and the response seemed cryptic enough so only Raymond understood.
“Does anyone want more to drink? I’m buying.” Dixon pulled out his phone to transfer money to an account the bar owner kept.
“No. Go home, Dixon. The night is late and we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” Raymond smiled at his friend as he watched him pick up the backpack and start to leave. “I hope you’re happy with your decision.”
Dixon completed the money transaction and put the phone back in his pocket. He then pulled a worn key off his key ring and placed the tarnished item on the table. “Make sure to lock up.” He stood up from the table and walked out.
“Man. Didn’t expect that,” Ben said, as he slid the key over to Raymond. “But, if you two will excuse me, there’s a lovely lady I stood up this evening, and I plan to make it up to her tonight”
“Ben,” Raymond touched his friend’s arm, “if you’re talking about the secretary from this afternoon, did you notice the ring on her finger?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t seem to be a fanatic about it. Plus, her husband is out of town. See you later.”
Overall, the trist wasn’t any of his business, but it still bothered Raymond that the secretary was a married woman. His empty bottle indicated it was time to go.
Sterling finished his drink and walked out with his father. As Raymond locked up, Sterling announced, “See ya at home tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?” Raymond asked.
“I have a date,” he said, hopping into his red Ferrari.
Raymond tried to bite his tongue, but failed as usual. “With whom?”
Sterling cocked an eyebrow and a devilish smirk appeared on his face. “I don’t know yet.”
Raymond had to collect himself once again as he dealt with his only child. “Sterling, I don’t understand why you insist on this reckless lifestyle of dating any human that crosses your path. I can’t say anything to Ben since he isn’t my son, but it bothers me when you behave like this. We have blood at home, so there’s no reason to go looking for your next meal.”
“Blood isn’t what I’m after.”
“Yeah. I know.” He shook his head. “A wife would be …”
Sterling cut off his father. “We’re not having this conversation again, Dad.”
Raymond raked his hand through his dark, thick hair. “I just don’t understand.”
Anger flashed across Sterling’s face. “Because unlike you, I don’t like to sleep alone. Mom’s dead. Stop loving a ghost.” He then drove off, his license plate, ‘LOVR4U’, fading into the distance.
*******
Alex Brennan entered her therapist’s office, and folded her long, lean body into her usual spot on the couch. Vanilla fragrance hung in the air from the candle on the windowsill and assaulted her nostrils, leaving a sick feeling in her stomach. She hated the smell of vanilla since the fragrance always reminded her of this room. For a distraction, she mentally reviewed her long list of things to do that seemed to never get done. A dentist appointment topped the list. Sighing, she thought how much nicer a teeth cleaning sounded. Checking her watch, she realized she arrived early for the session. Damn. She hated therapy, and definitely didn’t want to appear eager for her sessions.
She stared at the spot on the wall where the calendar charted time. She had seen three different calendars hanging over the years and would prefer not to see a fourth one. She glanced at her watch and readied herself to hit the stopwatch feature. She was paying for 50 minutes of therapy, and she always made sure she got her full time.
Dr. Micki O’Neil entered and closed the door. Alex appreciated that Micki always arrived right on time. She dressed in her usual button down blouse and slacks at every one of these sessions, and it pleased Alex that Micki was a civilian therapist and didn’t wear a military uniform. She suspected that she opened up more to the doctor when she thought of her as perhaps just an old friend, rather than a military officer. Micki sat in a chair adjacent to the couch. Overall, everything from the wing backed chairs, the paisley pillows with tassels, on down to the throw rug on the floor seemed designed to give one a sense of calm in this room. Perhaps such decor did work for many people, but Alex’s anxiety–wrung hands told a different story.