“Hatshepsut, where are Ariston and Thomas?” the South American representative asked as she poured herself a drink from the open bar.
“They will be here shortly, Alaina,” Hatshepsut replied.
“What is the Supreme Judiciary Court doing here?” Mr. Wong from China inquired, his Asian accent thick.
“There was a rape and an attempted murder that they need to hear.” Mathghamhain answered for the Queen.
“Ahhh, I see,” he said, nodding.
There was a commotion at the back of the room as several Marines ushered in Ariston, bound by cable, his mouth covered in the aluminum and steel tape.
“What is the meaning of this?” Alaina exclaimed as she started towards Ariston, but was stopped abruptly as Mathghamhain stepped in front of her.
“Can we come to order please?” Hatshepsut called, going to the table at the head of the room.
Ariston was brought to stand in front of the table, where the members of The Committee were seated. There were still two empty chairs remaining.
Hatshepsut motioned to the security detail standing closest to the table. The head of security turned and opened the door then motioned for someone to come in.
Léonide was also brought in, shackled, which sent Ariston into fits. His captors were barely able to keep hold of him. Thomas Woodford followed, taking one of the empty seats at the table.
“What is going on here?” Alaina demanded, standing up once again.
“Please, sit down, Alaina,” Hatshepsut asked. “All will be revealed in a moment. Please, everyone have a seat.”
Léonide’s eyes opened wide when he saw Vincent Mercier sitting facing The Committee. Vincent didn’t look at him.
“Ladies and gentlemen of The Committee, I would like for you to take heart and listen to what Mr. Durand has to say,” Hatshepsut said.
Léonide was now in front of the table facing the oldest vampires who represented their world.
“I have done wrong,” he began. He stared at his feet. “I… I went along with Ariston’s plan because I wanted everyone to look up to me, and not to disappoint Vincent again. I… am sorry for the part that I played.”
“What is going on here?” Mr. Wong asked, confused.
“Let me fill you in.” Hatshepsut rose to her feet. “Ariston is behind the creation of all the rogue vampires.”
The Committee as a whole gasped and looked at Ariston, who was still trying to shake off the Marines who held him.
“Ariston persuaded Léonide to help him populate the world with these rogue vampires so that he could take over The Committee. He planned to have a large number of our population convinced that we were not up to the task of governing, so that they would turn on us. He also had plans to kill me,” she finished sadly.
“Is this true, Léonide?” Alaina asked through squinted eyes.
“Yes, Alaina, it is true,” Léonide confessed. He turned to Vincent. “I am so sorry, Vincent. I’ve always wanted you to be proud of me. I don’t always show it, but I do love you.”
Vincent didn’t look at his vampire son. He hung his head hanging, tears dropping onto his folded hands.
“Remove the tape from Ariston, please,” Hatshepsut asked the Marines.
With the tape removed Ariston began ranting. “You have no right to do this to me. I am the rightful one to rule the world.”
The members of The Committee looked astonished at his outburst and his confession.
“Remove him from the room, and please, re-tape his mouth,” Hatshepsut commanded.
Ariston was led from the room shouting obscenities at The Committee, ranting like a mad man.
“As you can very well see,” Hatshepsut said as she retook her seat, “poor Ariston has lost his mind.”
“What are we to do?” Mr. Wong wrung his small hands.
“We will follow the process of law that we established centuries ago. The same laws that Ariston himself helped create,” Mathghamhain answered the nervous Asian.
“The supreme judicial court will be meeting in our new facility, which all of you will see shortly. They will be meeting for the next few evenings, or for as long as it takes,” Hatshepsut addressed the members. “We have several issues that must be dealt with, so it appears. Is there any other business that cannot wait until we meet tomorrow in North Carolina?” No one said a word. “Very well.” She sighed. “Let us adjourn and try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Refreshments will be served in the Presidential Suite upstairs. I look forward to seeing you all tomorrow evening.”
* * * * *
Bronson paced back and forth while he waited. Sarge had promised that as soon as the meeting was over, and they had Ariston, he would return. He heard the door open, then close. He heard Cates greet Sarge. Bronson was surprised to see Hatshepsut with him.
“Good evening, Your Majesty,” he said, still stunned.
“Good evening, Mr. Rudan,” she replied. “Do you know why I am here?”
“Well, no, not really.”
“You and I are going to pay Sergeant Burrows a visit before he is taken before the supreme judicial court,” she said, watching his reaction.
“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty.” Bronson smiled.
“Shall we?” Sarge suggested as he gestured towards the door to the holding cells.
Once inside, Burrows caught sight of Bronson and charged the Plexiglas wall, trying to reach him, his face contorted in anger, fangs fully extended. The hatred coming from him surprised Bronson, and even Sarge, judging by his reaction.
“Burrows?” Bronson tried to talk to the vampire.
“I will rip your fucking head off when I get out of here,” Burrows screamed as he charged the wall again. “You will be fish food, you fucking faggot.”
Bronson was stunned into silence.
“I think this puts to rest your theory of his attack on you as a mere misunderstanding?” Hatshepsut placed her delicate looking hand on Bronson’s tattooed arm.
All Bronson could do was nod in agreement as they left the room, Burrows still screaming threats at him as they left.
“I’m sorry, Bronson,” Sarge said as soon as the door was shut behind them, Burrows screams now muffled. “I know Burrows, and he was never totally right in the head. I just didn’t know he would go off the deep end like this.”
“Sometimes there are those who cannot handle turning,” Hatshepsut tried to explain. “Their personalities are not suited for this life. Whatever emotions they had as humans are intensified, and it seems that Sergeant Burrows’ feelings towards Master Sergeant Farragut overrode all common sense. I am sorry, Mr. Rudan, but I must insist that Sergeant Burrows stand trial as is our law.” Hatshepsut uttered the words in a soothing manner.
“I understand,” Bronson said.
“May I offer you a drink, Your Majesty?” Sarge motioned toward the common room.
Hatshepsut stopped in her tracks as soon as they entered the common room.
Bronson looked over her shoulder and quickly understood why. Sarge took a deep breath, clearly ready to yell at Cates and Aquilar who were fucking again, this time doggy style in front of the large flatscreen TV, when the Queen held her hand up. She continued into the room.
“I would like some red wine if I may, Master Sergeant.” She smiled and leaned in close to Bronson. “It has been decades since I’ve been able to see a live sex show. How exciting.” And then she took a seat on the sofa not far from the copulating men.
* * * * *
Woody stood over the closed casket of his friend, his lover, his donor, with tears streaming down his face.
“I’m so very sorry, Woody,” Bronson said in the still room, the smell of the dozens of flower arrangements permeating the room, most of which Woody had provided.
“He had so much potential,” Woody croaked out. “I did love him very much.”
“I am sure that Marcus knew that, Woody,” Bronson comforted him.
“Yeah, of course he did,” Sarge gruffed, his own eyes shiny with his tears, “and you know he loved you. Anyone could see that.”
“Absolutely.” Bronson added his hand on Woody’s shoulder.
Woody took a deep breath and then slowly let it out, the pain he was feeling clearly written on his face. “We need to leave. His family will be here soon, and I do not wish to be here when they arrive.”
“Okay, Woody,” Sarge said, “anything you want.”
Woody opened the coffin to see his lover once more. Marcus’ neck was wrapped in a scarf to hide the terrible life-ending wound that Ariston had inflicted.
Bronson couldn’t help but remember how animated and full of life the beautiful young man’s face had been. How his gold-flecked chocolate eyes had danced mischievously. How enthusiastic he was about everything.
“Rest in peace, my love.” Woody bent and kissed the still beautiful face. “I will always love you.” His pink stained tears dropped onto Marcus’s still face.
* * * * *
“I still don’t understand why you want to be there,” Sarge gruffed as he tried to settle into the too small airline seat.
“I just do, David, so will you give it a rest please?” Bronson hissed as he tried to read his newspaper.
“Hell, I’m a…you know… and I don’t want to see it.” Sarge squirmed. “I’ve had enough of seeing men die without having to go to an execution.”
“I’m doing it for Woody,” Bronson said for the hundredth time. “And for myself.”
“You had nothing to do with what Burrows did. Why can’t you see that?”
“I understand that. I just don’t like it, but I’m coping okay.” Bronson’s face softened a little. “But thanks for going with me. Besides, Hatshepsut wants to see me.”
“Yeah…whatever…” Sarge grumped. He’d planned on going anyway. He just didn’t want Bronson to go and witness what he was sure was going to be a rather gruesome ordeal.