Renegade (Ministry of Paranormal Research & Defence) (9 page)

Twenty-seven people had graced the chair in the history of this room. Sixteen had broken down without anyone laying a finger on them. One more had suffered a massive heart attack and had, instead, given up his secrets in a hospital, begging not to be taken back to that room.

The room had been used to extract information from Russian spies during the cold war, and from terrorists caught in more recent years.

It was maintained by the Ministry of Defence and provided useful training in psychological interrogation techniques. Technically it violated several international laws, but only technically. Nobody was physically tortured in here. It was a masterpiece of theater, but now someone was playing for real.

The vamp from the hotel was strapped securely into the chair. I entered the room using the door behind the chair. More psychology. The chair's occupant couldn't see who was in the room.

“This is fake, human,” said the vampire confidently. “You didn't think I'd be fooled by the paint, did you? No blood has been spilled in this room.”

I made a mental note. If we ever wanted to use this room for vampires we'd need to slosh a few buckets of blood around for the scent.

I walked calmly around the chair. I was stripped to the waist, a silver-tipped knuckle-duster on my right hand. I was, I knew, being recorded by eight different high definition cameras.

“
You expect me to be afraid of you, human?” said the vamp.

I think we both knew the answer to that one. I could smell the fear coming off of him.

I placed my SIG and my commando knife on the racks with the other implements, and then thoughtfully picked up a hammer and chisel, inspecting them before putting them down again.

“
I won't tell you a thing, do you hear me, human? Nothing!”

“
That's okay,” I said quietly. “There's nothing I want to ask you.”

“
Then what is the purpose of this charade, human?”

I spun on my heel, took three quick strides and punched the vampire in the mouth as hard as I could, putting every ounce of rage and pain into the blow. The vamp's head rocked back in a spray of blood and I heard a tooth hit the floor and bounce off of the wall.

“The purpose,” I snarled, “is for you to die as messy and painful a death as I can manage to inflict upon you.”

The vampire looked at me with wild eyes, blood soaking his chin.

I pointed to the cameras in the corners of the room.

“
This little session is being recorded and broadcast live over the Internet. I will keep you alive and in pain as an object lesson to your friends. If my mate is released, unharmed, I'll let them live. If she is harmed in any way, when I find them—and I
will
find them, I will not rest, I will hunt them down and drag them here—when I find them your death will seem nice and easy in comparison. Any vampire that helps them will join them in their death. I will tear the world apart to find them and anyone they know.”

I reached past the vampire and opened a spigot on a bottle of IV blood hung on the back of the chair. The life-giving liquid trickled down the transparent tube and into the vamp's veins.

“You are not going to die quickly,” I said as I walked back to the rack of tools.

I came back with the hammer and chisel. The vamp's wrists were securely shackled to the arms of the chair, and his hands had been heavily taped down. Only his fingers were sticking out.

“What are you going to do?” the vampire whined, recovered enough to speak.

I placed the tip of the chisel against the second knuckle of the index finger on his right hand.

“Hurt you,” I said.

I raised the hammer and brought it down as hard as I could.

The vamp screamed as the chisel bit through skin and bone, sending the tip of his finger flying across the room.

I moved the now bloody tool to the ring finger.

“Get comfortable, this may take a while.”

I brought the hammer down again.

I wiped my hands on a dirty towel, trying to get the blood off as best as possible. The cellphone on the desk was brand new, unregistered and, allegedly, untraceable. I dialed a number.

“Boss?”

“
John?”

“
Yes, boss. Everything ready?”

“
It will be if this program works.”

“
Do I even want to know why you needed that particular program sent to that particular email account?”

“
No, no you don't, John. I'm sorry I had to involve you in this at all.”

I stared at the pair of monitors on the desk. They each showed four different angles of what had once been a fairly high-ranking vampire. The leech had, in the end, started babbling, trying to buy me off with anything he could make up. I hadn't stopped and now I felt sick and empty.

“Okay, boss. You ready?”

“
Yeah. Tell me what to do.”

“
Go to the computer that you installed the program on.”

“
Okay.”

“
Bring up the program and hit 'execute'.”

“
Okay.”

“
After whatever time you specify the computer will start broadcasting whatever you wanted put out there. It will also upload it to about three hundred file-sharing sites and post it on over a hundred blogs, and to each of the email addresses you specified. Whatever you're sending will loop until someone shuts down that computer.”

“
Good.”

“
Wait, I'm not done. This is the new program Hacker and I were working on. The first stop is to fifty buried terminals around the country, which will copy the broadcast and pass it on. Even if someone gets to that computer, wherever you are, they won't be able to stop it completely. Besides, it'll be out by then and you know what the Internet's like.”

“
I'm counting on it.”

“
Okay. I'm assuming I didn't talk to you tonight?”

“
It's best that way.”

“
Did something happen, Jack?”

“
Yes. You'll know all about it in a few hours.”

“
Can we help?”

“
You already have, more than I feel comfortable asking.”

“
Not a problem, boss. One for all and fuck the rest, huh?”

I fought with my emotions, trying to find the right thing to say.

“Goodbye, John,” I finally managed.

I disconnected the call and put the phone in my pocket. I may not have committed an actual crime—vamps have no legal standing in the UK—but what I was about to do would burn many bridges with the Ministry.

I set the countdown to one hour and clicked 'execute'.

Back at our house in Carterton, I was showered, shaved, and dressed for war. I was also falling apart. I was slumped, sitting on the—our—bed, my hands shaking, tears rolling down my face. What were they doing to her? Was she okay?

My emotions boiled and rolled inside me, threatening to spill over and consume me. I surged to my feet and started pacing around the room.

I am become Death.

I stood, shoulders shaking, teeth clenched, eyes screwed shut.

I am become Death.

I breathed deeply, channeling my emotions into one, needle pointed, white hot flame, born not of panic, not of despair, but of rage.

I am become Death.

I began to regain control of myself. I knew what I had to do.

I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

The phone rang. With glacial calm I picked it up.

“Yes?”

“
Jack? What in the name of holy blue fucking blazes were you thinking?”

It was Dillon Tilehurst, Minister for Paranormal Research and Defence. My boss. For now.

“They took her, boss. They fucking took her.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“They fucking took her,” I repeated.

“
Jack. You just tortured a vampire to death and posted the fucking video on the Internet. I doubt there's a human on the planet who doesn't know about it by now.”

“
What the fuck would you expect me to do? Give the cunt an ASBO?”

“
This is not the time for your sense of humor Jack.”

“
I was laughing?”

“
The pro-vampire groups are probably wanking themselves into a stupor over this. Already some windbag from the US Embassy has been on the phone making threats of legal action.”

“
Fuck'em.”

“
I also just got off the phone with the Home Secretary. He was roused from his nice bed and shown a British soldier torturing one of the enemy! He's demanding answers.”

“
Fuck him as well.”

“
Jack,” he began angrily. “Just... just... fucking hell, Jack.”

“
I'm done,” I said, still calm and still.

“
What?”

“
I'm done. I'm done with the Ministry. I'm done with the military. I'm done with it all. This is personal and I'm going after her.”

Tilehurst was silent for a few minutes.

“And if they've killed her?”

“
If they have you needn't worry about liberating the North. I'll kill every bloodsucker up there.”

“
Bring her back,” he said, suddenly sounding calmer. “That's my last official order to you. Bring her back. If you do that I might be able to solve this mess. But if you don't—if you can't—you might not want to come back.”

“
Come back with your shield or on it, boss?”

“
Something like that. One more thing—”

There was a startled gasp followed by a commotion on the other end of the line. When Tilehurst came back on he sounded shaken.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“
Everything okay, boss?” I asked.

“
No it's fucking not. I had that damn video playing on my computer here. You just burned that fucking vamp's knob off with a blowtorch!”

“
Was that before or after I nailed one of his gonads to the chair?”

There was nothing but heavy breathing on the other end of the line for a long, long moment.

“Jack, do me a favor. If you ever get that pissed at me, promise me you'll just shoot me. You are... holy shit, Jack. What are you? What the
fuck
are you?”

“
I'm a vampire hunter. And now I'm going to hunt some more vampires.”

“
Just one more thing. There is a white-haired man who is your friend. He wants me to tell you that if you want to pay him a visit on your way to wherever you happen to be going, he's still your friend.”

“
Understood, boss.”

“
Okay. Good hunting.”

I hung up and turned to the bed. Laying on the covers were the tools of my trade. I picked up my black PLCE and buckled it into place. Into their respective holsters went my SIG Sauer P226 9mm and my Heckler & Koch MP7 Personal Defence Weapon. Then the Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife with the silver-alloy blade. Lastly I slid my second knife, the huge hunting knife with the heavy wolf's head pommel. I had to clamp down on a surge of emotion. The blade had been a gift from Marie.

I had just finished distributing my weapons when my old cellphone rang. I picked it up and frowned at the unfamiliar number.

C
HAPTER

19

My eyelids fluttered before I remembered myself enough to pretend I was still unconscious. I kept my eyes closed and slowed my breathing. Around me I could smell vampires. Vampires and blood. We were in the back of a vehicle, moving along a smooth road.

The vampires were talking. One was sobbing.

That felt good. The blackness claimed me again.

C
HAPTER

20