Homecoming (18 page)

He turned back for the door when Matt called out to him, “Pretty confident, don’t you think?” He fought to keep the smile off his face.

Mark gave him a slight wave as he rounded the corner, “You were going to order them anyway.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were.” His voice faded down the hallway.

Matt groaned as he fished the requisition out of the basket and signed it. “When he’s right, he’s right.”

He picked up his phone and dialed Evan’s lab. “We have a black pickup in the parking lot next to the building. I need you to design something that will support a .30 caliber machine gun for an operator standing in the back. Maybe some type of sling system to keep them from being bounced out.”

Evan wrote down the request. “Just a thirty? Are you sure you don’t want a .50 caliber? There are plenty of surplus parts that I could use to—”

“Negative. Trying to make a fifty cal silver bullet would be cost prohibitive. Even if they jacketed the round, it’s too much. Let’s stick with the .30 caliber.”

“Something like the M1919A4?”

Matt rubbed at his chin. “Naw, that’s a bit dated. Maybe something more like the M240. They’ve got a good record in the field, and I know for a fact FN makes more than one variant.”

“I’m on it, Colonel. How soon do you want it?” Evan began sketching designs on a scratch pad as the colonel spoke.

“We just ordered three more and you know how the supply system works. The one in the lot can be your guinea pig. Use it to test fit your prototypes.”

Evan paused and pushed the sketch aside. “So, you’ll have four of these vehicles at your disposal? May I ask what their purpose is?”

“Ground assault vehicles for the squads. These trucks will be air lift capable and we’re replacing the Hummers with them.” Matt shifted in his chair. “Why? Do you have some ideas?”

“Not at the moment, but if you give me some time, I’m sure I can use the truck as a test bed. Maybe beef it up a bit. Light armor, replace the glass with Lexan. Just, different ideas to make it both lighter and more durable.”

“Make it more tactical. We need something that can take a beating and still be fast as hell.” Matt could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Dr. Peters’ energetic enthusiasm began to churn.

“Yes, sir, I’ll pull it in shortly and begin dismantling it.”

“Just make sure you can put it back together, Evan.” Matt hung up and checked the time. He hadn’t heard from Laura in a while, and he was beginning to become concerned.

*****

Paul stared out of the window of the bedroom and allowed his mind to wander. He tried to replay the events that led him to this exact moment. How did he get to this time, this place, this strange string of events? How did he end up a Judas to his own brother?

He thought back to his hatred of his brother for so many centuries. Truthfully, Rufus wasn’t his real brother. His father had adopted Rufus before Paul was born. Rufus was everything he had ever truly wanted in a son. He was tall, handsome, educated, polite…in essence, everything Paul wasn’t. He understood the nuances of politics. He understood the importance of patience. He had self-control.

Bah, self-control was overrated. If his father could see him now…the favored son. Drinking the blood of animals rather than the blood of humans. What would he say?

What would he say?

Would he be proud of what Rufus had achieved? Would he embrace this alternative lifestyle like so many others had? True, he could see the benefits, but the costs? Oh, the costs. To feel the strength, the true strength that comes from feeding on humans. To feel their heart weaken and stop under your own touch. To taste the warm coppery satisfaction that only another human could possibly…but, he
wasn’t
human. He’d never been human.

Paul sat hard in the old Victorian style chair and sighed. “Why would I think such a thing?” His voice was little more than a murmur in the darkness. He hadn’t considered himself human, ever. Why would he ever compare himself to his food? His mind muddled as he contemplated where these foreign thoughts originated.

He lifted his face once more and stared out toward the open ocean. The inky blackness of the waves as they worked their way across the wind swept surface only to crest and break on the sandy beach below. Paul silently shook his head. “What’s come over me?” Was he finally feeling empathy for the creatures he had held with disdain for all these centuries?

He fished the small plastic black box from his coat pocket and ran his thumb absently across the smooth, shiny surface. “My kiss to you, my brother,” he whispered in the darkened room. “My thirty pieces of silver await.” He studied the small black device and considered the consequences.

His brother. By his father’s declaration, they were brothers. Rufus was the only family he had left. Paul knew from the moment he was old enough to understand, that he could never live up to his father’s expectations. That knowing is what fed his hatred for Rufus. All these years, knowing that his father loved another more than his own flesh and blood, tore at him, ate at him, fueled his pain.

He slumped back into his chair and remembered Rufus’ words. He would never allow the Council to harm him. He had a plan. And if there was anything Paul had learned over the centuries, it was that Rufus was an excellent tactician. If he had a plan, it would damned sure work.

Paul stood from his chair and stared out at the ocean once more. If there was ever a time to choose a side, to
truly
choose a side and mean it, then that time was now. Live or die, he had to be sure. He knew he had been hinting to the Council that he knew where Rufus was holed up. He had been teasing them with Rufus’ location and it was all for
power
. His brother may have tricked him and stripped him of his people, may have bound him to a blood covenant, and forced him to become a
Lamia Beastia
, but he also saved mankind in the process. He saved the world. He helped put away a madman who was set on world domination. And honestly, how many times had Paul tricked him in the past? Hadn’t he hung his father’s murder on him? Borne false witness against him to the very Council they intended to face?

Paul slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved the black device once more. Running his thumb across its smooth surface once more, he smiled inwardly. He tossed the device out the window and lost sight of it as it sailed out toward the water.

“In for a penny, in for a pound.”

*****

“Team Leader, we have nothing on visual,” Jericho’s static-filled voice squelched in their ear pieces. “Predator is making another round.”

“Copy that, OPCOM.” Spalding turned to his squad and motioned for them to form up on him. As the men settled in, he leaned his arms on his battle rifle and took a relaxed stance, his mind racing the entire time. “The drone isn’t picking up any activity in the area. The 130 is circling and everybody who has tracking capability is scanning every inch of the surrounding area, but there are so many tracks in and out of here, they can’t tell what’s fresh.”

“What’s the plan, boss? Wait for them to return?” Ing seemed antsy. The very idea that vamps were out hunting made his blood run cold.

“For now, that’s all we can do. I say we set an ambush.” Darren turned to Donovan who unrolled an aerial map on an old table. “This is the surrounding area. We have a kill zone here and here.” He pointed out the two areas that were ripe for setting up an ambush upon their return, if they returned through the low laying gullies. “If they come in on high ground, we can set up on what’s left of the roof and wait for them to close in to start the shooting.”

Little John shook his head. “I don’t like either scenario.”

Spalding turned his attention to his junior squad member. “And why’s that?”

“Their senses are too sharp. If these are baby vamps like the intel is pointing at, they’ll smell us from a mile away. They’ll be on to us before we can be in effective shooting range.”

“We have the Predator in the sky,” Lamb offered.

“True, but if they scatter…”

Spalding nodded, “Point taken.” He turned the map to Sullivan. “What’s your opinion then?”

John groaned inwardly but he stabbed his finger on the church. “We rub ourselves down with the ash. We hit them
inside
here.”

“CQB with nearly twenty crazed baby vamps?” Donnie asked. “I realize you’re new, but, dude, baby vamps are like berserkers. If they smell the ash, they’ll scatter as well.”

John shrugged. “It’s either that or hunt them down.”

Their earpieces crackled and came to life, “Team Leader, you have activity to your west.”

Spalding clicked the button. “Report.”

“Fast moving crowd headed your way. Best guesstimate on strength at eighteen to twenty. Some are heavies.”

“ETA?”

“Five minutes, tops.”

“Copy that, OPCOM.” Spalding’s eyes met his squad mates. “You heard the man. Options.”

Lamb and Jacobs glanced at each other and shrugged. Lamb piped in first. “Ambush in the church sounds good to me. From the direction they’re coming, we’ll be downwind.”

Jacobs nodded. “It will buy us a little time.”

Donovan considered their options then agreed. “It is our best shot. I can set up outside the alcove again, just like before.”

Spalding looked to Sullivan who gave a barely perceptible nod. “Very well then. Man your positions. Donnie, overwatch. Lamb, Jacobs, east side of the building, outside the wall. John and I are taking the roof.”

Lamb jerked his head up. “You’re putting the biggest guy in the world on a crumbling roof? Let’s send the little Asian guy up there, boss.”

“Up yours, Lamb.” Ing shot back as he pulled Lamb toward the door.

Spanky turned to Little John. “You okay with this?”

John smiled. “You want me to give you a boost?”

Spalding chuckled. “Smart ass.” The two men worked their way to the rear of the church and used part of the crumbling porch roof to climb up onto the flat roof of the church. “Watch your footing. This thing really is soft,” Darren whispered as he approached the edge of the parapet.

John stopped short of Darren’s position and slowly raised himself, peering off to the west. “I’m not seeing anything.”

“Me neither, but they have to be close.” Spalding edged back down and John followed suit.

“Closing on your position,” Jericho’s voice came through the ear piece again. “Definitely heavy.”

“Copy that.” Spalding  turned to John and motioned him to the rear of the building.

Little John waddled low, keeping his head below the parapet and out of sight of the approaching vampires. He leaned against the low barrier at the rear of the church and within moments heard the rapid beat of feet pounding the desert floor. Muffled cries could be heard and he suddenly realized what ‘heavy’ meant. The vamps were carrying back humans to feed on here at the church. Most probably a requirement of their brethren, who were left behind to watch the homefront. He felt a sick feeling rise up in his gut and his mind shot back to his youth, his hand automatically raising and settling on the pocket where the photograph rested.

“Predator shows them approaching now. The first one is closing on the building,” Jericho reported through the coms.

Darren keyed his mic. “Donnie, key us when the last one is inside.”

Two clicks of the radio came back as an affirmative.

Darren watched Little John against the back wall of the church roof and noted the grim determination set in his features. He whispered to his comrade, “You ready for this?”

John raised his face and the eyes that settled on Spalding set him back. “I was made for this.”

Two clicks echoed through the earpieces of each squad member and Spalding keyed his mic once more, “Light ‘em up, boys.” He pulled his own UV grenade and lobbed it across the roof into a gaping hole, right in the center of the abandoned church. Another rolled in moments later from Little John’s hand.

A series of concussive blasts and white-blue light erupted from within the church and Spalding yelled, “Now!”

Little John stood and took two large steps before jumping high into the air and tucking his arms into his sides. When he landed, his feet went through the roof of the church and the large man simply slipped down and away, swallowed by the ancient building. Spalding jumped and fell into the same hole right behind him.

John hit the floor of the church and rolled to the side, his rifle up and at the ready. His peripheral vision caught Spalding hitting the ground beside him, then dropping to one knee, at the ready. Screams could be heard throughout the building, and brightly glowing cinders of orange ash floated about on the wisps of breeze.

John panned right then back to center. Spalding panned left then back to center, only to find John moving forward and kicking open doors once again. “Clear!”

Spalding heard the muffled staccato of automatic rifle fire from outside as survivors of the UV attacks attempted to flee the church.

Donovan called out the number of ashed vampires that attempted to leave through the front entrance and dropped by his rifle. One source stepped out that was actually warm blooded and he held his finger off the trigger. “We have a live one.”