“Glad you could join us, Sergeant Burrows,” Sarge remarked snidely as the man slunk into the room. “See me after the briefing, so I can repeat myself.” He finished up giving a brief outline of everything that he had covered. “Everyone clear on what we’re doing tomorrow night?” When everyone seemed to be good, he said, “Okay, fallout men. Burrows, you stay put.”
Bronson scowled but said nothing.
Sarge walked over to where Bronson was standing just inside the door, but then gently pushed him out into the corridor. “You can go wait in my room or hang out in the common area if you like,” he whispered as he kissed Bronson quickly. “I just need to deal with this real quick.”
“Actually, I need to get home.” Bronson also snuck in a quick kiss. “I have to be ready to go into the office and get this article submitted, and that’s only a few hours from now.
“Sure?” Sarge was disappointed.
“As much as I would like to, um… Sarge...”
Sarge cut him off quickly. “Think you can call me David?”
Bronson smiled. “Yeah, I can handle David.”
“Good.”
“As I was saying, I need to get to my computer and also change clothes. Besides, my ass needs a little recovery time. It’s not used to so much action.”
“Who said it was your ass that was going to get the action?” Sarge whispered before licking the reporter’s ear.
Bronson’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised that a man of Sarge’s size would even consider bottoming.
“Don’t act so surprised.” Sarge grinned. “I have a prostate too!”
Bronson’s eyes glinted. “I’ll definitely look forward to that, then.”
Sarge smiled broadly, lighting his face up.
“I’ll come by tomorrow after sundown.” Bronson slipped his jacket on.
“Um…about tomorrow.” Sarge became more business-like. “Come on by after sundown, sure, but you know I can’t let you go on this mission with us, don’t you?”
“Why not?” Bronson asked, surprised.
“It’s too dangerous, Bronson. I can’t protect you in that type of environment.”
“Excuse me, but you seem to have forgotten what I do for a living. Remember me in Fallujah? The one in the middle of it all?”
“Yeah, but this is different.” Sarge scowled.
“No it’s not, and you know it.” Bronson’s voice rose in volume. “Urban warfare here isn’t much different from there. Besides, I can either go with you, or I can just show up. It isn’t like I don’t know where it is.”
“Fuck, but you are a pain in the ass,” Sarge snapped.
“You’ve not experienced it yet, but I hope to show you just how much tomorrow.” Bronson leered as he reached around, grabbing a handful of Marine butt.
Sarge couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, you got me. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.”
Bronson pulled the big man to him and gave him a hard, deep passionate kiss. “Yeah, tomorrow—babe.”
Sarge watched the hot man walk away from him. Unconsciously, he licked his lips as he focused in on the man’s spectacular ass. He snapped out of it, and his eyebrows furrowed as he turned to deal with the matter at hand—Burrows.
Reluctantly, Sarge went back into the command center room. “Wanna tell me where you were and what the fuck is going on with you, Burrows?”
“Sorry Sarge, I lost track of time is all.” Burrows shrugged and forced a smile. “Besides, how was I to know you were gonna be doin’ a briefing?”
“Man, don’t hand me that shit.” Sarge grew more and more exasperated with this guy. “You of all people know why we are here, and that we had zeroed in on this lair. You had to know we’d be getting ready to go in, so don’t try and play stupid with me.”
“So I fucked up.” Burrows scowled. “Bring me up to speed and let’s get ‘er done, so we can go back to what we’re supposed to be doing.”
“I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass lately, Burrows,” Sarge said as he got in Burrows’ face, “but whatever it is, you need to come to terms with it and move on.”
“We don’t need to be here dealing with this shit,” Burrows yelled. “We need to be back over there taking care of those rag-heads that keep killing our guys!”
“What the fuck do you think we’re gonna be doing after all that is done, Burrows?” Sarge yelled right back in the man’s face. “Huh? What do you think we’ll be doing then? Ever thought of that? Get your shit together, Burrows.” Sarge let out a sigh. He was tired of what felt like a constant battle with this guy. He quickly filled Burrows in on the mission.
“Will that be all, Sir?” Burrows asked stiffly.
“Yes, Burrows, that is all.”
Burrows did an about-face and left the command center.
* * * * *
Bronson looked into the mirror as he brushed his teeth, pausing to look at the spot where Sarge—David—had pierced the skin of his neck. Not even a blemish really. If he looked really close, he might have been able to distinguish small pink dots, but even then, he would have to look hard to see anything that might be considered abnormal.
He remembered the feel of David’s mouth, locked onto his neck, sucking, and suddenly his dick was stone hard. The feeling was so erotic, unlike anything he’d felt before. It scared him a little at how precarious his life was, how the vampire had held his existence in his jaws, but at the same time he wanted it again. For an adrenalin junky like himself, that had to be the biggest rush he’d ever had.
One thing was for certain: Bronson knew he was going to have to do a better job at eating and sleeping more regularly. After letting David feed on him for two nights in a row, he was feeling weaker. He tumbled into bed and instantly fell into a deep, restful sleep.
* * * * *
“You need to return to America.”
“And why, pray tell, would I want to do that?” Léonide asked, as a buxom woman’s head lolled on his chest, all but unconscious as a result of his feeding from her.
“Because, you idiot, one cell was not enough, as I told you once before,” the heavily accented voice sneered. “The Americans have their new vampire military unit in Washington, and they will make short work of that little infestation you initiated. I have witnessed their work, and in one night they will be able to wipeout that one cell!”
“So what if they do? We have plenty here in Europe and Asia to keep the rest of The Committee chasing their tails.”
“Léonide, do you not understand that The Committee also has control over that same military unit? Your complacency will get us both tried and killed.”
“Oh bother. All right then, I will go back to North America and form new cells,” Léonide huffed before taking another sip from the near-dead Irish whore.
“I highly recommend that you visit several cities this time,” he sneered, his lip curling up.
“Several?” Léonide cried. “I hate Americans. They are so…so…crude.”
“Do not be stupid, my young friend. They are one of the largest, most powerful countries on Earth and your personal tastes are overruling your better judgment.”
Léonide sighed. “Fine, as you wish, but I will take Fidencia with me this time.”
“Do not be mistaken, Léonide. I will personally kill her if she even so much as hints to anyone what is going on.” The venom in the man’s voice was ominous.
“You have my word, m’lord, she wouldn’t dare go against you.” Léonide stood up, dumping the now good-as-dead whore from his lap onto the floor. “Where would you suggest I start?”
The older vampire paced the antique Turkish carpet. “We need to hit them hard. Keep those military fools so occupied that they will not have a chance to venture into Europe.” He stopped his pacing and looked to Léonide. “I think L.A. and then San Francisco first. Then quickly hit Chicago, Montreal, Toronto, New York then Miami, but do it quickly.”
“Are you kidding?” shrieked the Frenchman. “It will take weeks to set that all up.”
“I do not care how long it takes, you silly peacock.” The force of his anger was so strong that the Frenchman stumbled backwards over the corpse on the floor. “Had you done what I told you to begin with, we would not be in this situation.”
“And you think that populating North America will have that much impact?”
“Yes, I do.” The ancient vampire spoke more calmly now. “We have to spread them thin to give me the chance to get to Hatshepsut. When we have accomplished this, she will be more exposed, and I can then act. Once she is out of the way, it will be easy to take over and then abolish The Committee, once and for all.”
“What of the American military unit that they created?”
“Ah, I will take great pleasure in having them put to death.” The other vampire smiled, relaxed for the first time that night.
Léonide sighed heavily. “I will leave tomorrow night then, m’lord.”
* * * * *
Bronson rolled out of bed with a groan, not having gotten nearly enough sleep. He checked his cellphone. He had plenty of time to shower, shave and get dressed and still have time to grab a large coffee. There might even be enough time for some breakfast before meeting with his editor, Tom.
In the shower, he smiled at the soreness in his butt. He felt tired but happy and very satisfied for the first time in a long while. Sex had never been something high on his priority list, but the last two days made him wonder why.
Snow fell sporadically as he quickly walked down Sixth Street to ‘P’ Street where he could hail a taxi. A thin layer of snow covered the ground and blew around on the street and sidewalks like wisps of smoke. The briskness of the cold made him feel even more alive and in need of that large coffee.
He stopped at a restaurant on the corner of ‘P’ Street and got something to eat, which helped with the lack of sleep. In no time at all, he was stepping off the elevator ready to get to work on putting the finishing touches to his article. He knew Tom would go ape shit over this. It was going to blow the lid wide off what both the military and the U.S. and Afghani governments had kept under wraps so far. Thanks to Hatshepsut, now that he was able to use scientific citations, not only would Bronson able to expose the whole cover-up, but also offer the perfect solution, ahead of the scientific community that was already working on it. Yes, it was going to be a great day.
He waltzed into Tom Picks’ office without knocking. “Hey, Tom.”
“You damn well better have something outstanding for me. That witch has already been breathing down my neck this morning.” Tom grimaced as he took a large gulp from a Pepto bottle.
“Oh, I think you might just be able to shut her up for good with this one, Tom.” Bronson grinned as he tossed the printed copy on the balding man’s desk. “By the way, if she so much as looks at me funny, I’m calling the Wall Street Journal, after what I’m about to give this paper!”
Tom Picks said nothing as he pulled his glasses down from the top of his shiny head and started reading. Halfway through, he picked up the phone and punched four buttons. “Grace, get me a large coffee and let Cathy know I’ve got the story of the year in my hands.” Tom’s eyes never left the manuscript in his hands.
When he finished he pushed his glasses back up on top of his head. “You can back all this up?” he asked before looking up at Bronson.
“Yep.” Bronson couldn’t keep the big grin off his face.
“This is going to bring the CIA down on our asses, and a few other agencies, I predict.” Tom chuckled, then added, “again.”
“Isn’t that my job?” Bronson smirked.
“The one thing I want to make sure of is this whole thing with that beetle. The scorpion venom and the crushed-up black blooded beetle are what has been killing those Taliban and Al Qaeda cells?”
“It’s a poison that has been around for centuries,” Bronson replied, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on the editor’s desk. “It’s easily made and can be delivered in something as small as a blow dart. The big thing is that if it is delivered into a main artery, it takes effect almost instantly. The result is that it dries the blood by using metals naturally found in the blood stream. That’s why all the bodies seem to be drained of blood.”
“But how?”
“It has something to do with the poison heating the metals which then heat the blood. The best way for me to describe it is that basically it boils the blood away,” Bronson explained. “Trust me, I ran it by several checks, and it’s real.”
“Holy fuck, this is going to be good!” Tom’s assistant handed him the coffee and he took a big swallow.
“I thought you might like it.” Bronson sat back with a wide, satisfied smile on his face.
“Rudan, this is going to be big. Now, if we only knew who was doing it, that would tie it all up with a big red bow.” Tom leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
“I have a pretty good idea.” Bronson sat back and sipped his coffee. “That will be a good follow-up, I think.”
“Hell yeah, it will.” Tom smiled from ear to ear. “Boy, when you say you’re gonna deliver, you always come through, Rudan. I gotta give you that. You’ve never disappointed me, boy.”
“You thinking of running it Wednesday?”
“Hell no,” Tom almost squeaked. “I’d run a fucking special edition if I thought I could get away with it. I’ll make sure this is going in tomorrow’s edition. From the looks of it, you’ve got it almost polished up enough to hit the rollers, if we actually used rollers anymore.” Tom laughed. “Let’s get this down to edit and a few fact-finders and get this baby put to bed!”
By the time 2:00 p.m. rolled around, Bronson was exhausted. Getting his article through editing was a breeze, but getting the facts to stick proved to be a little more difficult than he’d anticipated. The initial citations he had were a little too vague for legal, so they had to get additional back-up in the form of some toxicologist and medical experts before they would run it.
He probably could have left it in their hands and gone home to get some sleep, but he would never have been able to rest until he knew everything checked out. This was too important a story to him and to David’s unit to chance it. He felt good about the article as a whole, and Tom had been right—this was going to open up a can of worms that neither of the governments involved was going to like. He could just imagine the congressional hearings, mostly conducted in private, that were going to ensue over this. Legal was going to have their hands full with this one. Bronson chuckled. This wouldn’t be the first time he had caused a ruckus, and hopefully not the last.
* * * * *
Hidden in a black SUV, she watched Bronson leave the Post, just as she’d watched him that morning when he’d left his apartment.
“Pigeon is on the move,” the woman in dark glasses spoke into the cordless microphone on her wrist.
“Copy, One,” the man’s voice responded in the earpiece. “Observe only all units.” Two voices answered affirmatively, the woman’s, and one other, a man’s.