“Have you found him?” Ariston barked into the phone as he looked at the ocean passing thousands of feet below him.
“Yes sir, we have,” the male voice answered.
“Well?” Ariston asked impatiently.
“Sir, Léonide and the others have been taken to the home of the American Representative.”
“Ha, such arrogance,” Ariston said snidely. “That should make it easy.”
“Sir, perhaps not,” the voice almost choked out.
“Explain.”
“Sir, they have the military vampires as guards.”
“That means shit to me,” Ariston quipped with a wave of his hand. “Do nothing until I arrive, understand?”
“Yes sir.”
Ariston ended the call. Looking out the window, he thought of how he was going to be able to salvage what was left of his plan.
“One way or another, I will take my rightful place,” Ariston mumbled to himself. “I will get rid of Hatshepsut and her mongrel dog once and for all.”
* * * * *
Hatshepsut dismissed her ladies-in-waiting with a gentle wave of her hand. She turned to Mathghamhain. “Everything has been arranged for the arrival of the whole Committee. The Supreme Judicial Court is also being brought together.”
“Do we have any word of the new prison?” Mathghamhain paced, his kilt flaring out behind him as he walked.
“Yes.” She sipped the strong tea that had been prepared for her. “The U.S. Government has been most helpful in this matter. We paid a handsome sum for the property, and the renovations began a few hours ago. There was not a lot that needed to be done, fortunately.”
“Very good.” Mathghamhain sighed heavily. “Will it be ready in time?”
“I believe so.” Hatshepsut wished the large redhead would stop pacing. “We will proceed there, at any rate. Conveniently, a helipad is already there, and it is but a short flight from here.”
Mathghamhain finally stopped pacing, a look of silent rage on his face.
“What bothers you so, Mathghamhain?” the Queen asked softly.
“Acht, as much as I detest that man right now, Ariston is one of us, and has been for centuries.”
“Yes, it is sad,” she sympathized with him, resting her hand on his arm. "However, we have both seen this before. Some cannot handle so much time living, and I think this is the case with Ariston. I think he has simply lost his mind with so much time. I blame myself to some degree. I should have seen the change in his behavior.” The Queen sighed. “That is why I was not so shocked when Léonide confessed as to whom his co-conspirator was. I was surprised that he simply named Ariston when asked, however.”
“It does not make it any easier, Hatshepsut,” he muttered into his long red beard.
“No, it does not.”
“What if we do not have enough evidence against him
“I had no doubt that Léonide would turn on him,” she said disgustedly, a sneer on her face. “He is but a coward. With everything he has provided, there is more than enough to convict Ariston.”
“It will break Vincent’s heart you know. He is such a gentle soul.”
Hatshepsut sighed. “I know, but it cannot be helped this time. We have been more than lenient with Léonide, and yet he still has not learned his lesson. I have spoken with Vincent and counseled him as best I can. I am sure he will survive this. He now knows that Léonide only used him and does not return his love. He only wanted immortality.”
“What of this American soldier? The one who attacked the reporter?”
“I am confused about that one.” She looked out over the lights of the nation’s capital. “Mr. Rudan wants to save his attacker, and I feel that he is doing so out of love for his Lieutenant. I want to protect our reporter at all costs. He has helped us more than he knows, and for that alone I will do what I can for him. However, with that aside, I also think that he will be of great benefit to us later. I will insist that he not be turned anytime in the near future, even if that means that I must destroy Lieutenant Farragut.”
“Why is that?” Mathghamhain seemed surprised.
“Mr. Rudan has the chance to become very powerful in this new world of technology, as news travels at lightning speed,” she said, lost in thought. “He has only scratched the surface of what he can achieve. Therefore, I would propose that he remain human for at least another decade.”
“You are very wise, Hatshepsut,” Mathghamhain commented. “You always look ahead.”
“It is only foresight that has protected us all,” she said, going back to her tea.
“Do we know where Ariston is now?”
“Yes. He was already in flight here when I told him that his presence was required, although he tried to lie to me and tell me that he was inflight to London,” she said with a sneer.
“Acht, he should know better than to try to lie to you.” The big red-headed Scotsman chuckled. “Does he not realize after all this time that you have eyes everywhere?”
“It must have slipped his mind, as has his sanity,” she replied.
* * * * *
“They look like a couple of puppies, all warm in their beds.” Woody smiled as he looked upon the two sleeping humans, their limbs intertwined.
“I hate to wake Bronson.” Sarge gently stroked the side of Bronson’s face with his forefinger.
Woody agreed with a sigh. “But it must be done. It is not safe for them to be here.”
“I understand and agree.” Sarge looked to his friend. “I think that, considering what happened with Burrows, I need to find a safer place for Bronson.”
“I completely agree with you.” Woody stared back at him. “I suggest the Barracks, for now. There is no place I can think of that would be safer for him.”
Sarge chuckled. “I may have to lock him up, you know. He isn’t the type not to get right into the middle of things. You should have seen him in Iraq. He was with our platoons every step of the way, and unarmed to boot.”
Woody also chuckled. “I can see that.”
The two vampires stood a few moments longer, watching Bronson and Marcus sleep.
“Shall we?” Woody asked, not expecting an answer as he leaned over to kiss Marcus awake.
* * * * *
The wheels screeched as they came in contact with the tarmac.
“Finally,” Ariston said. He picked up his phone and punched in one number.
“Yes sir,” the voice answered.
“Are they there?” Ariston was already standing, waiting at the door of the private plane.
“They are, sir.”
“Good.” Ariston tapped his foot impatiently. “Make sure they are watched. Let me know if their status changes.” He ended the call without waiting for acknowledgement of his command.
* * * * *
“You are going to stay here if I have to shackle you to that bed again.” Sarge huffed in Bronson’s face. “We are not going to discuss this anymore.”
“So you are going to hold me prisoner?” Bronson yelled, his hands on his hips.
“If that’s what it fucking takes, then yes,” Sarge yelled right back.
They stood toe to toe, neither backing down.
After a few minutes of staring at one another, Sarge relaxed somewhat. “Come on, Bronson, be reasonable about this. You just don’t know how dangerous it is for you right now. There is an ancient out there who would snap your head clean off your body and not think twice about it.”
“Isn’t that my risk to take?” Bronson retorted.
“And just what do you think you would be doing? Huh?” Sarge was back to huffing. “There is absolutely nothing you could gain by being out running the streets right now. Please?” Sarge pleaded. “For me?”
Bronson huffed, knowing he couldn’t refuse Sarge when he was literally begging.
“Fine, but you fucking owe me!” Bronson kicked the metal bed frame in frustration.
“Anything you want, babe, anything.” Sarge relaxed visibly. He took the reporter’s hand and kissed it. “Let’s go have a drink before I go to sleep, huh?”
Bronson shrugged, still not very happy. The two walked hand in hand into the barrack’s sleeping area. There on Aguilar’s bunk was Cates, Aguilar’s legs on his shoulders as he fucked the hot Hispanic, his head rolling back and forth on the pillow.
“Is there ever a time when they are not fucking?” Bronson stopped and shook his head. “I’d tell them to get a room, but they’re in their room.” He laughed.
Sarge joined in the laughter. “Hey, I’d rather they were fucking all the time than fighting.”
“Yeah, you have a point there,” Bronson said, agreeing.
“Hey…Sarge…Bronson,” Cates huffed a greeting, never slowing down in his plowing of Aquilar’s ass.
“Hey…” Aquilar raised his head off the pillow. “How ’bout…ahhhh, yeah…how ’bout a quick blowjob, Bronson?”
“I’m good,” Bronson said, shaking his head.
“Sarge?” Aquilar asked.
Shaking his head no, Sarge didn’t even acknowledge the offer as he pushed Bronson towards the common room.
* * * * *
Hatshepsut personally inspected the secure meeting room in the basement level of the Willard hotel. The room had as much history as just about any room in the Capitol, having hosted meetings of foreign dignitaries. Some that were so secret, the rest of the world did not know they were even in the city. There was even a private underground railway from the White House directly into the basement of the famous hotel.
“I trust everything meets with your approval?” the general manager asked nervously.
“Yes, Mr. Samuels,” the Queen replied. “Everything is as it should be thank you.”
The human quickly made his exit.
Hatshepsut moved in front of the mirror for one last inspection. It surprised her when her reflection wasn’t there. Laughing to herself, she realized the mirror was an antique, the backing made of real silver.
“You look marvelous,” Mathghamhain spoke from the shadows. “It has been a long time since you have worn such a costume.” He stroked a finger down the sleeve of her ceremonial gold robes.
“Thank you, Mathghamhain.” The Queen smiled, still a woman at heart who liked a compliment.
“You looked much like you do now when you stole my heart, my Queen.” He bowed low.
Hatshepsut placed her hand on the bowed head. “You were the best of lovers, my love,” she whispered into his ear.
“You are still the love of my life, my exotic beauty,” Mathghamhain whispered back. “You still take my breath away.”
Hatshepsut embraced the large man briefly. “Thank you for that.” She smiled warmly into his eyes.
“Ahem.” A voice cleared by the door.
They both turned to see the director of security standing just inside the door.
“Yes, what is it?” Hatshepsut stood rigidly straight again.
“Members of The Committee are starting to arrive, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, please show them in.” She turned to the big redheaded man. “Shall we?”
The two made their way to the doorway to welcome their contemporaries. One by one they arrived, with the exception of Ariston and Thomas Woodford.
* * * * *
“Come in, Ariston, I expected you earlier,” Woody said snidely from his chair in sight of the front door.
Ariston froze.
“Yes, I was expecting you, Ariston.” Woody got to his feet slowly. “Do you think we are all stupid, mindless animals?”
“I… I was just coming…” Ariston stuttered, looking over his shoulder.
“Oh, I would not concern myself about your ninja men,” Woody sneered, knowing Sarge’s men had more than likely already taken care of them, as was the plan.
With his vampire speed, Ariston rushed at Woody, his hand around his throat. “Where is he?” Ariston growled into Woody’s face.
“He is already gone, Ariston,” Woody wheezed, his breath cut off. “He was never here actually. Well, that isn’t exactly true.” Woody managed to get out as Ariston’s grip loosened from the shock of this announcement. “We had them come in the front door, to make sure your men saw them, and then they went right out the back door.”
Ariston’s eyes opened wide. His mouth formed an O.
“That’s right, Ariston, this was all for show,” Woody said. He took advantage of Ariston’s surprise and knocked the vampire’s arm away.
“Woody, what’s the door doing standing wide open? It’s freezing outside.” The mocha skinned man didn’t bother to look into the darkness of the long hall before turning to close the door. Ariston took advantage of the unexpected situation. Within an instant, Marcus’s back was pulled against Ariston’s chest, his neck bent and Ariston poised over it.
“Where is Léonide, Woodford?” Ariston’s face transformed, his old fangs fully extended, the blue-black veins showing in his face. “Tell me now and I will spare your concubine!”
“Woody…” Marcus choked out, his eyes full of fear.
“Ariston, let the boy go. He has nothing to do with this,” Woody lowered his voice.
“Of course he does, Woodford. He belongs to you, does he not?” Ariston eyes were wild. “You take from me, I take from you. Now, tell me where the peacock is.”
“Hatshepsut has him, Ariston,” Woody spat out.
Marcus gave up struggling against the ancient vampire’s steely grip. His eyes pleaded with Woody for help.
“Such is the pity then,” Ariston snarled, then sank his long fangs into Marcus’s throat. He shook the human as a rabid dog would, ripping a large hole in the beautiful man’s throat. Marcus tried to scream, but the only sound that came out was a gurgling sound, followed by blood bubbling over his pink lips. The once vibrant, lively eyes dimmed as Marcus’s body twitched in the throes of death. Ariston dropped the gurgling, twitching young man to the floor and kicked him to one side.
“No!” Woody screamed, rushing toward Marcus.
Before he could get there, Ariston froze, his eyes glazed over before he fell on top of Marcus.
Woody rushed to Marcus and threw Ariston’s limp body off him. He saw the tranquilizing dart sticking out of his neck. Marcus’s eyes focused on Woody, and then he smiled, the gurgling blood making bubbles in the corners of his sexy mouth.
Sarge’s body suddenly blocked the doorway, the dart gun still in his hand.
“No….Marcus, stay with me, hold on.” It was too late. The light in those beautiful eyes was now gone.
“No, this can’t be happening,” Woody screamed, shaking Marcus, trying to wake him. “No, no, no, no….”
Woody looked at Ariston, whose eyes were open as he watched Woody, an evil grin on his face.
“I am going to rip you limb from limb.” Woody started for Ariston, but Sarge was there, blocking him, keeping him from tearing into the paralyzed vampire.
“No, Woody, not like this.” Sarge put his palm against his friend’s chest. “Stick to the plan.”
Before Woody could react, several of Sarge’s men came in and bound the ancient vampire in steel cables. They quickly removed him from Woody’s entry way.
“We have to go.” Sarge urged his friend towards the door.
“We can’t…I can’t leave him like this,” Woody stammered, his body limp against Sarge’s.
“We’ll be back,” Sarge got him out the door. “He’s gone, Woody. We can’t help him now.”
Sarge got the door closed and Woody to the waiting car, the white panel van already having left with Ariston