Homecoming (2 page)

“It would have no bearing.”

Jack stopped pacing. “Then what other option is there? We have to remove the council. We have to destroy any evidence of the edict.”

“
Non
.” Rufus exhaled hard and shook his head. “There has been enough bloodshed. I won’t have more for my sake.”

“Rufus, I’ve known a lot of people in my life. I’ve only known a handful of vampires. You, sir, have more honor than any human I’ve ever met.”

“From you, Jack, I shall take that as a compliment.” Rufus held the cognac up in toast and took a sip.

“I’m still not seeing any other options.”

“
Oui
, there is one. I am just very hesitant to use it.”

Jack spread his hands wide, “Please, enlighten me. Even if you refuse to use it, maybe it will kick another idea into gear for me.”

Rufus smiled softly and nodded. “You are familiar with the American ‘double jeopardy’ rule?”

“Of course, but you said that—”

“I said that they will not
change
the edict. However, if we took my brother to the council and I made him tell the truth, then the edict would be shifted to him. It is very much like double jeopardy. If a murder has been committed, you cannot hold both accusers responsible unless you can prove that they were working in tandem, and if he tells the truth that will prove that we were not responsible."

“Wait a minute, you just said earlier that wouldn’t work.”

“I said that it wasn’t an option.” Rufus rubbed at the base of his neck and stretched. “I am trying to prevent a true death edict on either of our heads.”

“But if Paul killed your…errr, his father and pinned it on you, then doesn’t he deserve the true death?” Jack was truly confused now.

“Perhaps at one time, but time has a way of changing people. Since Paul has become
Lamia Beastia
, he has changed. He has become the person his father always wanted him to be.”

“You do realize that you’re only talking about a few months, don’t you?” Jack feared that Rufus was taking a trip down a memory lane that didn’t really exist.

“
Oui
, of course I do. But had you known Paul when he was a young man…and then now, you’d see the difference.”

“Far be it from me to tell you how to run your business, but if you think a leopard can change his spots in a few short months… so be it.”

“I am not so old that I have forgotten the dangers of naiveté. Nor have I forgotten how manipulative Paul can be.” Rufus took his chair again and sat back, cradling his cognac. “Let’s just say that my desire to salvage what little humanity there may be in him outweighs my desire to see justice done.”

“You’re the boss.” Jack picked up the Geneva reports. “What do you want me to do about these?”

Rufus considered the reports for a moment then sat forward. “Go ahead and prepare a strike plan.” His eyes met Jack’s. “Just in case.”

*****

“Little John, check your six,” an operator whispered through the ear piece. John Sullivan, ex-Delta Force operator, rolled to his side and peered over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the darkening horizon, his ears straining for any unusual sound.

“All clear, Bravo Three. Proceed to tango.” Sullivan whispered into his throat mic. Through the high powered scope on his sniper rifle, Sullivan had a clear view of the advance team as they approached an abandoned building along a deserted stretch of railway. He watched the operators jump over the gravel and land on the rail ties to prevent any sound of their approach. “Still no activity, you’re clear.”

“Bravo Six, be advised that the Predator is in the wind. Repeat, the Predator is in the wind,” the operations officer announced from the AC-130 making high altitude circles over the site. “ETA, three minutes.”

Sullivan felt the corners of his mouth curl into a smile. “Copy that, OPCOM.” Keying to the team’s frequency, he relayed the message, “Air support in three minutes. Time to kick over the hornet’s nest, boys.”

“Roger that, Six,” Apollo replied. “All weapons hot.”

From Sullivan’s vantage point, he could watch as the team advanced, weapons ready, and formed a semi-circle around the metal building. He watched a member run up alongside the building and toss something through a window. “Grenade,” was announced through his earpiece just before his eyes saw the blue white glow of the UV explosive flash through every pore of the building.

Members rushed the building, and the staccato of automatic weapons fire filled the evening air as the team advanced and entered the building. Little John zoomed out slightly to get a bigger picture of the battle and observed movement on the roof. Zooming in and placing the reticle on a figure standing alongside an ancient air conditioning unit, he sent a single silver projectile towards the startled figure. In a moment, the figure was engulfed in flames and falling to the ground, and Little John’s eyes were scanning the scene for any other would be escapees.

“Six, we have a runner!” Bravo Three announced. Little John leaned slightly forward, scanning the area with the scope. “Out the back!”

John grunted as he realized the building itself was blocking his shot. The runner would be another hundred yards away before he even came into visual. He adjusted his scope and settled in, scanning the top of the roof for the runner to appear. “He’s cut north…between the rail cars,” Bravo Three announced.

“Shit.” John shifted on his perch and began scanning along the handful of abandoned rail cars. His eyes barely picked up the shadow of movement on the other side of the cars as somebody bolted for freedom. His eyes scanned further along the cars and found one with both side doors open. He settled in ahead of the runner and zeroed in his scope. Allowing for lead time, he judged his shot and took it. He didn’t actually see his target, but he tracked the shadow under the rail cars and fought a grin as the runner burst into flames on the other side.

“Runner subdued,” he announced quietly as he settled his scope back on the building and began scanning the area again. The faint whirring of the Predator circling the scene came to his ears and he risked a glance up. He could barely see the white speck as it circled the area.

Slowly, the gunfire came to a stop, and Apollo announced a ‘stand down’. Little John slung his rifle and began to descend the tower he had used as an overwatch station. As his feet touched the ground, he heard Apollo call for the clean-up crews, and he watched as the team began exiting the building.

“Easy peasy.” Wallace was wiping something from the blade of his knife as he stepped away from the building. “They never knew what hit ‘em.”

Popo leaned against a pole supporting the overhang and made the sign of the cross over his chest, his face ashen. Little John nodded to him, “What’s wrong?”

Popo’s eyes appeared haunted when he met John’s gaze. “They had kids in there.”

John’s brow twisted in confusion. “Kids? I didn’t think that vamps could…”

“No, man. They were feeding on them.”

Apollo stepped out and squared his chest. “The area’s secure. Clean-up crews are on their way. Set up a perimeter for security until they’re done.”

John watched as the other operators broke loose and began working their way out to form a security boundary around the site. “Want me back on the tower?” He shifted his rifle and was prepared to get as far from the site as possible.

Apollo shook his head. “Naw, we got the drone to be an eye in the sky.” He gripped John’s massive shoulder, “You’re with me.” He led the big man into the building, and John felt his guts begin to twist as the smell of spent gunpowder, blood, shit, and ash all hit him at once. Apollo waved his hand across the scene of the massacre. “You’ve been spending most of your time as our overwatch. You’re a hell of a sniper, but this…” he motioned toward the mess again, “this is the shit.”

“Yeah, I can smell it.”

“No, man, I mean, this is the reason why we do what we do.” Apollo stepped over a burnt body and practically dragged Little John with him. “See this over here? This blue-black looking piece of crap? This is what silver does to a bloodsucker. Not like those fancy UV sniper rounds you got.” Apollo pointed out another. “That crispy mutha there? That’s what the UV grenade does.” He kicked at the body with his boot, and John watched as ash crumbled away from it.

“I went through the training, remember?” John tried to keep his voice passive, hoping that Apollo would accept it and let him out before he stumbled upon the kids they were eating.

“Training ain’t the same thing as seeing it with your own eyes, Little John. It ain’t the same as smelling it.” He smacked his lips and spat on the ground. “Tasting it.”

“Point taken.” John was no stranger to death. He wasn’t a stranger to hideous deaths either. But he had to admit, these creatures that he now hunted and killed were somehow different. Perhaps because they were once Americans? He couldn’t put his finger on exactly
how
it was different; it just was.

“This ain’t the same as the sandbox. The next snack these guys decide to grab might be somebody you know.”

“That’s why I signed up, remember?” John was trying really hard to remain passive. Cold. Unfeeling. He hoped his voice didn’t betray him.

Apollo stared at him a moment and tried to get a read on him. “You won’t be sitting overwatch forever. I need to know you can handle it in the thick.”

John shifted his rifle and stared back. “Whenever you’re ready to put me on point, boss, just let me know.”

Apollo stared at him a moment longer, then broke into a toothy grin. “I’ll give this much, you ain’t asked if I grilled the other rookies like I be grilling you.”

“I figured you did. Otherwise how would you know what they’re made of, right?” John avoided his gaze and glanced around at the carnage.

“All three of the other newbies asked me if I treated the others like they just graduated boot, not you.” Apollo smiled at him again. “You need to understand, though. It’s not about busting your balls. It’s about knowing strengths and weaknesses. I need to know who to put on which teams. Trust me, man, I can’t screw up and put the wrong people together to make a team. Not every weakness is a weakness, and not every strength is a strength.”

“What, are you Buddha now?” John gave him a sardonic smile.

“Naw, man, I just need you to understand,” he leaned in close and whispered, “don’t play me.” John shot him a questioning look in return. “‘Cuz playing me can do more than get you hurt. It can get your entire team killed.”

*****

Paul Foster lay huddled in the dark recesses of his room contemplating his circumstances. He should have known that entering into a blood oath with his adopted brother would be his undoing, but at the time he saw no other choice. Rufus had always been the ‘honorable’ one. He had always been a stickler for rules. It was always Paul that found ways around them. He always found a way to either bend the rules until they threatened to break, or he broke them and blamed someone else. He never dreamed that his brother would get the upper hand on him. Yet, here he sat, cursed to forever be a goat sucker or face the true death for breaking the covenant they shared.

Paul felt his body shrivel as it begged for blood, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to drink any more of the garbage that they drained from the farm animals. He stared at the goblet of…something. Whatever it was had already begun to congeal and the odor was obnoxious. He
so
wanted to stray. One lowly hooker. A homeless person. An illegal immigrant. Nobody would know…ah, but his brother would. He would be able to sense it and that would be the end of poor Paul.

He had prostrated himself before his brother, shifted all of his power and people to Rufus’ command and here he sat, bound by a damned technicality; ‘To be dissolved upon common agreement or upon the vanquishing of the common threat to mankind.’ How was he supposed to know that Thorn would consider
any
vampire who fed upon humans as a ‘threat’ to mankind? He groaned low in his throat and slapped at the goblet, sending it across the room, its contents splattering to the floor.

“My kingdom for a thick, juicy harlot.”

“You have no kingdom,” a sultry voice purred next to him. “You traded it to your brother to save your skinny ass.” Her soft chuckle reminded him of the joke he had made of himself. If it weren’t for the power her family held, he’d have ripped her head off and sent her remains to the sewers; if he still had the strength.

“A slight setback, my dear.” Paul was determined to regain his wealth and power. He just had to figure out a way. “My brother isn’t completely out of the woods yet.” Paul continually reminded himself that the Council still wanted Rufus’ head for his father’s death.

The leggy, blonde vampire next to him stretched and pulled the sheet from his body. “You’d better do something soon. It won’t be long and you won’t have the strength to fight me off, much less him.” She giggled and nipped at his thigh.

Paul rolled his eyes at her playful attempts. Sex was the last thing on his mind. He could barely choke down the swill that his brother allowed them to eat, and nothing killed the libido like having horse breath. “In due time, sweetness, in due time.” He patted her bottom and pulled the sheet back up. “What I have planned won’t take much effort on my part anyway.”