Drew D'Amato:Bloodlines:02 (2 page)

He made a stink about the
situation, but no one took him serious
.  One night when he came out of his apartment he was knocked out, kidnapped
,
and thrown into a truck.  When he came to
,
Bandini stood over him and
told
him everything.  He learned
about the Dark Bible
, T
he Order of the Dragon, and reports of other vampire related homicides.  He was then given a choice.  It was not much of a choice.  H
e could either join t
he Crusaders or be killed.  He knew too much to be let
back
out
in
to the world. 

He chose to join.  A body was foun
d a few days later in a car accident
believed to be him
under his birth name, John Brown
.
He was listed as dead and got his new i
dentity as
Robert Peterson.  He became an officer of the MPS in the Borough of Tower Hamlets
, where he
also worked secretly for t
he Crusaders
.  He gave them all the information he
ever came across and case
s that could not be explained by the police.  He never did anything really significant as a soldier for them, but now he had
a
chance to become
part of Crusader lore
.

His flight was starting to make its descent.  It was gametime.

5

T
he décor of the airport was the absence of one.  The place was filled with windows and post-modern furniture—seats with tight metal frames, and glass tables.  There was far too much natural light in the place for the vampires to even think of transforming.  It was just before five
p.m. when they got there.  They could transform later when it got darker, when the Crusaders would be there, and that was all that mattered. 

Malachi, Gregory, Daniel, Andrew, Stephen, and Matthew carried the weapons off the plane.  Malachi led them to the restaurant The Caviar House up on the departures level.  They could get to it by staying inside the transit zone. 

Vlad, Jericho, Michael and Deacon made their way toward customs.  They had nothing to declare so the stayed in the green channel, which was quicker than the declarations line.  They got through customs after a little more than half an hour of waiting.  The only thing that set off the metal detector was Jericho’s lucky Cross Classic Century, a sterling silver ball point pen that he had used to sign the papers for the Ferrari F430.  He also used this same pen to sign the papers for one of the first Corvettes ever off the assembly line in 1953.  He purchased the pen, which also debuted in 1953, a few weeks earlier.  He sold the car over the years when he had to change aliases, but has kept the pen on him every day since.

The entrance to Altitude was close to the customs office.  Access to it was from the public zone on the bottom floor even though the restaurant itself was located on the top of the airport.  The restaurant had their reasons to be open to the general public and not just to air travelers.  The restaraunt had walls of glass windows giving off a panoramic view of the tarmac and the Jura Mountains.  It had a minimalist décor like the rest of the airport colored with blacks, beiges and browns.  Its menu changed often.  It screamed high-end, which was why locals went to this place and businesses held meetings here.   

Peterson texted Jericho during the flight and told him to meet in the bathroom of Altitude.  Jericho asked why, but Peterson told him not to worry, he would explain everything then.

Vlad found this very suspicious.  An armed man could be in Altitude since entering it did not require passing through a security check, as long as the person came in off the street and not from a plane. 

From the public entrance of Altitude it was a straight shot in the elevator to the restaurant proper, above the top floor of the airport.  As soon as Vlad got into the restaurant he told his men to wait, and he went into the bathroom alone.  Moments later he came out.

“What was that about?” Michael asked.

“Just checking if they had anything planned for us in there.  It was empty, all clear.”

“Okay, but when it’s time to meet, I’m going in there first,” Jericho said.

“Absolutely, don’t even let him know I am here until it seems the deal is legit.”

“All right enough worrying, let’s get a drink,” Michael said.

They sat down at the bar and Jericho got a text.

“That was Malachi,” he said.  “They got a table at The Caviar House.”

“Good,” Vlad said.  “Now all we have to do is wait.”    

6

D
eacon felt out of place sitting with Vlad, Jericho and Michael at the bar, but Vlad had said on the plane he wanted someone more experienced leading the group with the weapons.  Malachi was given that role.  He also wanted Peterson to think it was just Jericho and Vlad.  He didn’t want to leave Michael alone, fearing it might look suspicious. 

It made sense, but still Deacon felt like some small-time associate having lunch with the big dogs.  It reminded him of his life before Vlad had made him a vampire.  He worked on Wall Street during the 1920’s.  He was a fast learner, a hustler, and there was no celing—but then the
bottom fell out.  The great crash of 1929, Black Tuesday.  By Thursday of that week he was standing on a windowsill in New York City, ready to take his last fall.

It was nighttime.  Vlad was in the city visiting Richard.  The crash hurt most of America, but not Vlad.  Now he was going to buy everything very cheap and triple his empire.  He saw Deacon and gave him another option than falling to his death—the life of a vampire.  He took him up on his offer and has been on Vlad’s side every since.  With the reduced number in Vlad’s bloodline, he was now the youngest of all the vampires. 

He sat in the restaurant and let the three of them talk.  He was nervous about not messing up.  He knew this was one of the most important missions ever.  His interior monologue was too much for him to focus.  He appeared to Vlad and Jericho as though he was in a daze.  Michael was much better at keeping his internal thoughts unnoticed. 

Michael saw the excitement hidden in Vlad’s eyes at the prospect of possessing the coffer.  He knew there was no way to get Vlad to change his mind.  And so Michael did not regret his decision to betray him.

Michael had his own interior monologue.  He decided to see to it that this mission was successful.  He chose not to tell Gabriel about this stop on their European tour.  Whether Radu thought the coffer was insignificant or not, Michael knew better.  He knew they could not allow the Crusaders to have all the knowledge of vampires, and also the blood to make them.  This was not a power that could be given out.  What his goal was—a life relaxing as a vampire—could not exist if the Crusaders had the ability to make vampires.  Even if they did not plan to use it, they could once Radu exposed himself to the world.

It would be hell for years.  Radu would wage a war against humans, enslaving them.  Michael did not want this.  Like Vlad, he felt it was better to let the humans go about their lives. 
They had made interesting toys to play with, and came up with ways to look more attractive.  This was progress that Michael wanted to keep moving along.  He fought this war longing for the day when he could just enjoy all these benefits and not have to worry about Radusons.  This was why he stayed loyal to Vlad all these years.  Most vampires stayed loyal to their master the way some people stay faithful to their religion—they are simply born into it.  Michael was never like that.  He was a believer of the Enlightenment—he had lived through it—he questioned everything and as a human was starting to embrace the idea of atheism before he was made a vampire.

It was not because simply Vlad was his master, but because Vlad’s endgame was a better idea than Radu’s plan if he won this war.  Had he liked Radu’s agenda better, he would have changed sides years ago.  But now everything has changed.  Now Vlad had a different endgame.  He wanted to be human, he wanted to die.  Radu had won over Michael by default.

“Men, the flight from England should be landing soon,” Vlad said as he raised his wine glass.  “Let us toast that we will all get back to LA, and this war will be over.”

The men met their glasses together.  None of the four hesitated, not even Michael.  However, as he sipped his wine he knew this toast was impossible.  Either he or Vlad would not make it back alive.

TWO

1

T
he flight from England landed.  Peterson walked off the plane with his heart racing.  The rest of the Crusaders were also on their way to The Caviar House themselves for drinks and waited to hear for when the ambush would be over.  The six of them wanted to be involved with the mission, but they knew their job was to act like they didn’t know anything.  They walked through the transit zone to the top floor and Peterson made his way toward customs.  When he was next in line he texted Jericho, telling him where he was and that he should be up there in about ten minutes.  Jericho texted back, telling him he would be waiting in the bathroom. 

Peterson started to sweat, but he was able to keep it cool for the customs official as he showed him the half of the coffer he carried with him.  The Border Guard didn’t think this man carried anything on him of value, just a really old book.  He let him pass without a second thought.

2

J
ericho and Vlad left Michael and Deacon at the bar and closed the tab incase they had to move fast.  When they were alone Michael asked Deacon if he knew why Vlad really wanted the coffer so bad.

“Well, we can’t let anyone have possession of the Blood of the Betrayer,” Deacon said.

“True, but do you know about his intention with the Dark Bible?”

“No.” Deacon shook his head.

“There is a rite within it that allows us to give up our vampire powers.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Deacon said surprised.

Good response,
Michael thought. 

“He wants to become human again.  Do you want to be a human again?” Michael asked him.

“Of course not, but we don’t have to.  We have the Blood of the Betrayer.”

That is a good idea.  I hadn’t thought of that, maybe Vlad can live?

“Even if Vlad does not want anymore vampires?” Michael asked.

“Well, we have to get him to allow us.  Otherwise he will probably destroy the blood himself.”

That is true.  The Blood is too powerful.  Vlad will not leave it alone.  But then again, he may leave it in our hands.  Vlad now has a stay of execution, depending on what he does with the blood. 

“I will make that point to him about the blood.  And if the chance presents itself, do not hesitate to show your feelings.  He may decide differently if he learns that more of us want to stay vampires.”

Deacon nodded in agreement.

Talking to Deacon sat well with Michael’s conscience.  However, he was not sure if Deacon would go as far as Michael planned to.  He did not dare to not let Deacon know about his true plans, but maybe he would recommend another vampire for Radu once it was all finished.

“So what do we do now?” Deacon asked.

“We wait and hope everything goes smoothly, but nothing ever does.”

3

T
he bathroom was empty and gray.  Peterson got out his cellphone to call Jericho, when a stall’s door swung open.  Jericho exited, his blond hair back tight in his ponytail, one long bang in front of his face, and his clear blue eyes staring down at him.  Jericho noticed the beaten, green bomber jacket Peterson had on, along with his work boots.  He was not dressed casually at all.

“How many of there are you?” Peterson asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jericho told him firmly.

“Well, is Vlad here?”

“Yes, but first let me check you for any weapons.”

“I couldn’t get a weapon through the plane.”

“Not a gun or a knife, but holy water or a crucifix would pass without a problem.”

Peterson did not fight him.  This was the moment to establish trust.  He emptied his pockets and Jericho patted him down.  He found nothing.

“I do have this crucifix on my neck, though.” Peterson pointed to it.

“Throw it away.”

“Can I just put it aside?  I’ve had it for years.  It’s pretty sentimental.”

“In a few hours you won’t be able to touch the damn thing.  Unless you were not serious about becoming a vampire?”

“No, I am.  I just didn’t think of it like that.”

Peterson yanked off the crucifix his late grandmother gave to him when he was still in his teens and threw it into the trashpail next to him.  He didn’t like Jericho doubting him.  All it would take was Jericho to use his tricks like he had before and then the whole plan would go to shit.  He’d have no power to fight then.  He had genuinely not thought about the power of the crucifix around his neck.

Jericho and Vlad had thought about using his tricks to make sure everything was kosher.  They both knew Jericho’s pull on this man would be nothing once he was out of Jericho’s sight.  He could have changed his mind, and notified the other Crusaders of what had occurred.  Jericho insisted on the trick but Vlad said no.  As easily as they could learn about the trap, Peterson could also notify the rest of the Crusaders with just a text message.  Those men would leave Peterson to die, take off with the coffer, and Vlad would not get a second chance.  They had to play along to let them get close enough to the coffer.  It was high risk/high reward.  Vlad decided to gamble.   

Jericho just hoped Vlad was sharp.  He hadn’t seemed it too often lately.  Jericho would have rather known of any risk and save Vlad even if it meant sacrificing the coffer.  But as always, he obeyed his master.

Jericho reached over to the door of the bathroom.  He opened it and let it close naturally.  Seconds later, Vlad entered the bathroom.  Peterson instinctively froze with fear.  He had seen
paintings of him from when he was a Prince, but nothing could prepare him to actually see him face to face.  Those cold black eyes stared right through him, like he could see everything he was hiding.  Vlad cracked a smirk.

“Peterson, I take it.  Do you have a first name?”

“Robert.” 

Vlad noticed his English accent.  “Not a good ring to it for a vampire, think of something more
Victorian.
”

“I will.”

“Do you have the Bible on you?”

Peterson was carrying a gray backpack.  He unzipped the top of it and took out a centuries-old leather bound book.  The pages were piss yellow—aged—curled at the edges.  On the cover was the symbol of the Order of the Dragon—a dragon curled in a circle eating its own tail, with a blood red cross on its back. 

Vlad took the book and opened it.  The script was written in ancient ink.  Vlad flipped through the over hundred pages of it.  Everything was written in an ancient code.  He felt powerful nostalgia as he held the book.  He thought of nights by candlelight with Radu looking for the answers of what had happened to them.  Reading the history of the Order of the Dragon, and the true history of the Templars.  The rush built up inside him, but quickly died.

“This information is worthless to me without it decoded.”

Peterson took out a zip drive from his pocket.  “Everything in the book has been translated onto this file.  It is the only copy.  We didn’t even allow Henderson to have one.”  He handed it over to Vlad.

“Well, you better have a laptop on you.  For all we know you could have child porn on here.”

“No, but I have better.”  Peterson dug back into the backpack and took out a three-ring binder with paper inside it that looked to be the thickness of a movie script or a thesis.

“This is the Dark Bible translated.  My boss does not want this information stored on a computer unless it is necessary.  He fears hackers or anything of that sort.  This zip drive was just a back up, but he intends on using this translation for now.  I am stunned though; you really don’t know this code at all?”

“My brother knew the codex for it.”

“Radu?”

“Yes, you know, you could spend some of your energy hunting him down, too.”

Peterson said nothing.  Vlad took the manuscript from Peterson, and read the first three words.

Lord forgive us.

“This has been translated,” Vlad said.  “I remember how this book started.”

Vlad was breathless.  Jericho kept his wits.

“So how do you plan to retrieve the Blood?” he asked Peterson.  “Why this meeting in the bathroom?”

Peterson dug deeper into his backpack.  He pulled out an identical backpack.

“Most airlines only allow one carry-on so I used this trick.”

“I like the way you think.” 

“This was why I wanted to meet here, so I can give this to you.  This is the plan.  First, I will need the Bible back.”

Vlad looked at him with suspicion.

“Not the zip drive, just the actual Bible.  I will need it to pull off my plan.”

“Explain this plan before I hand anything back to you.”

“I’m going to meet the other team downstairs.  Zachary is the man holding the Blood.  I’m going to tell him that our leader wants the Blood and the Bible in the same luggage.  He does want to risk any mix-up.  I will of course need the Bible on me to show some validity, since he has not heard of this plan himself.  I’ll put the Blood in the backpack with the Bible.  You will have the other backpack with nothing in it.”

“So you are taking the translation too.”

“Yes, for the same reason.  I will do this exchange in a bathroom down there, and you two will stand off somewhere and leave the other backpack on the ground.  We’ll figure out exactly where, when we get down there.  When I get out from the bathroom I’ll walk next to you, put the backpack on the ground and we’ll make the switch.  Each of us picking up the other’s backpack.  You will have the backpack with the complete coffer, and the translation; and I will check in a luggage with just my house keys in it.  I don’t plan to ever go back there anyway.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I was hoping to escape with you.”

“You came up with all of this by yourself?” Vlad asked impressed.
             
“You will make a good vampire.” Vlad walked over and put his hands on his shoulders.  “You know I can make you one right now.  You don’t have to worry about the Crusaders finding out.  You will not be a vampire until you die a natural death.”

“We don’t need to rush it.  We can do it later.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Peterson’s mind raced, Vlad could see it in his eyes. 
Why is he scared to learn that I will keep up my end of the deal?

“I need to be smooth here.  I don’t want anything more to have to hide from them.  I’d be afraid they would see the puncture wounds or sense something off about me.  After I check in the empty bag, I will ditch out to get a coffee and not come back.  I will call Jericho, please have someone around to pick me up.”

“Fine, Robert, whatever you are comfortable with.”

“Good, now let’s go downstairs and finish this.”

The three of them left the bathroom.  Peterson led the way. 

Moments later a fourth figure exited a stall from the same bathroom.

4

M
alachi had gotten a text from Michael once Vlad and Jericho
had
left to meet
the source.  It was dark now,
8:
45 p.m
.  All of his men could now transform and make the
ir way downstairs
.  He was about to give the order when a group of men entered the restaurant. 

There were six of them, all in their late thirties and
early forties.  What was odd about them was that they were not dressed in suits.  Suit
s would say business
men, which would explain that
amount of men together, at those
age
s,
with no female escorts.  Maybe
they were businessmen on
a business trip, but he figured then they would be dressed in more casual outfits.
  There was nothing casual about what they had on—
heavy
jackets and workboots—
tough
looking
clothes.  They could
n’t be men simply on vacation.  This
was too odd
for
that
many men
,
that old
,
all on a vacation together.  Boys
in their twenties sure, but in their forties?  When he saw them bless their drinks, it came to him. 
They were Crusaders.

Only the source
was going through customs, the
rest where waiting for the next flight.  The next flight was in a little more than an ho
ur. 
Why not have a late dinner?
  Malachi inspect
ed
them more: crucifixes—the Roman Catholic kind, with t
he dead savior—and
weathered eyes
.  These were m
en who had been away
from home for a while.  Men
on a mission. 

Malachi had the weapons, but here he was sitting across from the enemy’s calvary.  He
couldn’t leave right then.