Department 19: Zero Hour (24 page)

Jamie pressed the heels of his palms hard against his eyes and squeezed them shut, the remnants of the dream still floating at the edges of his barely awake mind. Then he swung himself out of bed and started to fill the coffee machine.

No more bullshit,
he told himself.
No more self-pity. Just get on with it.

The smell of boiling coffee began to fill his small quarters, bitter and enticing. Jamie waited for it to finish, studiously ignoring the message waiting on his console; he doubted it was a summons to a court martial, but it was still unlikely to be good news, whatever it was. It was far too early for it to contain his squad’s orders for the day, which meant it was something unusual, although that was a word that had no real meaning inside the Loop.

The previous day had been a strong contender for the worst he’d endured since joining Blacklight, which was saying something. After the Zero Hour Task Force meeting, he had slipped away through the hangar and out on to the Loop’s grounds, avoiding anyone who might want to talk to him, including Larissa. He knew it had been cowardly, but he had simply been unable to face the prospect of explaining to his girlfriend exactly how badly he had screwed up, so he had gone where he knew she couldn’t follow: out into the bright late-morning sun.

He had wandered the grounds for a long time, lost in his thoughts. As he made his way back to the hangar, he had seen Matt and Natalia walking across the runway together, and had ducked behind one of the supply sheds. Matt was his best friend, but he could no more face him than he could Larissa.

Jamie had spent the rest of the day locked in his quarters, ignoring messages from Matt and Larissa and Kate, increasingly urgent demands that he answer them and tell them what was going on. By the time 1800 rolled around, he had rarely been so relieved to head out on a Patrol Respond.

It had gone better than their first, although that wasn’t difficult. Qiang and Ellison had been sympathetic and reassuring, insisting that the incident with Chris Hollison could have happened to anyone, that it was a miracle it had never happened previously. Jamie had appreciated their concern, told them so, then ordered them to focus on the operation at hand.

Eight hours later they had returned to the Loop, tired but satisfied with their night’s work: three dead vamps, a civilian couple rescued from a home invasion that had been on the verge of turning extremely unpleasant, and no injuries or failures of protocol. He had dismissed his squad mates, and fled for the privacy and security of his bed.

Enough hiding,
he thought.
I’m done with that.

Jamie poured a mug of coffee and took a sip. The liquid burned his lips, but he didn’t care; the caffeine was what he needed, the energy to get dressed and go out there and do his job. When the mug was empty, he sat down on his bed and opened the message that had woken him up.

NS303-67-J/OP_EXT_L1/LIVE_BRIEFING/OR/1500

ATTACHED: PRELIMINARY BRIEFING.

LOCATION: ROMANIA.

TARGET: THE FIRST VICTIM OF DRACULA.

That can’t be right,
thought Jamie, incredulous.
There has to be some mistake.

He was still staring at the screen two minutes later, trying to make sense of the orders he had been sent, when a heavy knock shook the door of his quarters. He jumped, then threw the console down on his bed and went to the door. The locks had barely slid clear of their housings before it was thrown open and Larissa stormed into the room. She stared at him with eyes that glowed the colour of fire.

“You’re not dead then,” she said, her voice low and full of barely contained anger. “I was starting to wonder.”

Jamie recoiled from the fury boiling out of his girlfriend, and raised his hands in placation. “I’m sorry,” he said. “About yesterday, I really am. I just needed—”

“Eight messages, Jamie,” said Larissa, her voice little more than a growl. “I sent you eight messages, and I know Matt and Kate sent you at least that many again. I waited for you outside the Ops Room, after you didn’t message me when you said you would, and you ran away, where you knew I couldn’t follow you. I tried to find you all afternoon, and you hid from me. Then you went out on patrol without a single word, and you couldn’t even be bothered to let me know you were home safely. Do you really, honestly think that qualifies as reasonable behaviour?”

“No,” said Jamie. “I don’t. It was selfish and cowardly and I have no excuse. I’m sorry, Larissa.”

The fire in her eyes faded, ever so slightly. “What’s going on, Jamie?” she asked. “And don’t say nothing, because I’m going to punch you if you do. Tell me the truth. I want to help.”

“I screwed something up,” he said. “And I couldn’t face you, or Matt, or anyone else. I’m sorry I avoided you, I really am, I should have told you what had happened, but I just couldn’t. I needed a few hours to get my head together. I really am sorry.”

“How badly did you screw up?” asked Larissa.

“Really, really badly,” said Jamie, forcing a tiny smile. “Or at least I thought I did. But then I got sent this.” He held out his console.

She took it, read the orders, then looked at him with blazing eyes and a wide smile full of pride, as she pulled her own console from her belt and showed him the screen. Identical orders glowed on it, plain black text on the white background.

“You too?” he said. “Both of us?”

Larissa nodded, then wrapped him in a tight hug and rose effortlessly into the air, spinning him elegantly in the small space of his quarters.

“Amazing!” she shouted. “That’s completely amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

Jamie grinned as he dangled in her grip. “Put me down, for God’s sake,” he said. “It’s just an operation.”

Larissa lowered him back to his bed and floated above him, her eyes glowing.

“It’s not
just
an operation, Jamie,” she said. “It might be
the
most important operation the Department has ever ordered. And we get to go.”

“I know,” said Jamie. “I don’t get it either.”

Larissa frowned. “What don’t you get?”

Jamie forced a smile. “I get why you’re going. You’re the most powerful Operator in the world, and if I’m going after a vampire who might be almost as strong as Dracula, I’m putting you on my team, every time. But I don’t get why I’m going too.”

Larissa’s eyes flared with clear annoyance. “You’re one of the best Operators in this Department, Jamie,” she said. “Holmwood knows how good you are, and he trusts you. Why are you doubting yourself all of a sudden?”

“Because it was my squad Cal was talking about in the Zero Hour meeting,” he said. “The Operator who got filmed and ended up on the news. That was me.”

He quickly filled her in on the fiasco that his new squad’s inaugural Patrol Respond had become, sparing her the worst of the dressing down he had received from the Interim Director and the extent of the crying he had done on his mother’s shoulder. She listened, the glow in her eyes fading to reveal an expression of sympathy.

When he was finished, she narrowed her eyes. “It’s not that bad,” she said.

“Cal seemed to think otherwise,” said Jamie. “So did Paul Turner.”

“I’m sure they did,” said Larissa. “But after McKenna and the email, how long did they really think we’d be able to stay a secret? I’m sure they’re pissed off at you, but they have to understand that it was inevitable. It’s not your fault.”

Jamie felt his heart swell at her faith in him, biased and almost blind though it was. “It
was
my fault,” he said. “
I
lost Chris Hollison. I was taking something that wasn’t his fault out on him, and it backfired.”

“And that was stupid,” said Larissa. “And I seriously doubt you need me to tell you so. But talking about a court martial? That’s bullshit, Jamie, and you know it.”

“Maybe,” he said. “And I’m hoping it won’t come to that, I really am. But you can see why getting these orders was a bit of a surprise, given that it’s less that thirty-six hours since Cal
was
talking about it, whether he was completely serious or not.”

“Maybe he’s better at letting things go than you are,” said Larissa. “Maybe he’s big enough to put the mission ahead of personal anger.”

Jamie frowned; an unsettling though had just occurred to him.

“You didn’t do anything, did you?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“Like saying you’d only go if I got to go as well.”

Larissa smiled. “No, Jamie,” she said. “Cal doesn’t tend to discuss Operational personnel with me. I found out five minutes ago, same as you. I promise.”

“So what the hell is going on?” said Jamie. He was suddenly feeling incredibly frustrated, as though the ground had been pulled out from under him in the Interim Director’s quarters two nights earlier, then pulled out from under him again this morning.

“Why does there have to be anything going on?” asked Larissa. “There’s a Priority Level 1 operation, we both got selected for it, and the briefing is in nine hours in the Ops Room. That’s all you need to be thinking about.”

“I suppose so,” said Jamie, his expression brightening. Regardless of whatever was going on behind the scenes – and he was sure there
was
something, despite what Larissa thought – this was a mission he was thrilled to be part of, especially in light of Larissa’s orders; it would have killed him to watch her leave without him, bound for the birthplace of vampires, looking for a way to end Dracula once and for all.

“Good,” said Larissa, and smiled at him. “I have to take care of some stuff, but I could meet you back here after lunch? We’d have an hour or so before the briefing. Unless you’re planning to hide from me again?”

The look on her face told Jamie everything he needed to know about how she was suggesting they fill that hour. He smiled back at her, heat rising from his stomach and into his chest.

“No more hiding,” he said. “I promise. And that sounds like a plan to me.”

Larissa closed the door to Jamie’s quarters behind her and flew steadily down the Level B corridor towards the lift at the end. As she did so, she pulled her console from her belt and opened the second message Cal Holmwood had sent her, the one that had arrived immediately after the orders that had been sent to both her and Jamie.

FROM: Holmwood, Cal (NS303, 34-D)

TO: Kinley, Larissa (NS303, 77-J)

Come and see me ASAP.

She let herself float in the air as the lift ascended, enjoying the sensation, her mind turning the message over and over. She had told Jamie the truth; she had played no part in his selection for the mission to Romania, and had only found out that she was to be involved when the order had appeared on her console. And being summoned to see the Interim Director was not an unusual occurrence, especially not with Zero Hour so close. But something about the message made her uneasy, something that she could not quite put her finger on.

When the lift opened its doors on Level A, she slid back to the ground, feeling familiar disappointment at having to do so, and strode down the corridor towards Cal Holmwood’s quarters. The Security Operator stationed in the short corridor outside waved her through without bothering to check his schedule; she was an unmistakable figure inside the Loop, recognised and whispered about by everyone. She walked past the Operator without casting so much as a glance in his direction, and pushed open the door.

Cal Holmwood looked up from his desk as she entered the room, and smiled.

“Lieutenant Kinley,” he said. “Come in.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Larissa. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did,” said Holmwood, pushing aside a teetering pile of paper as Larissa stopped in front of his desk. “I assume you saw your orders?”

She nodded. “I did, sir. Thank you for having so much faith in me.”

Holmwood smiled. “I have complete faith in you,” he said. “But in this case, it wasn’t my call. The mission to Romania is being briefed and led by NS9, and they selected its personnel.”

Larissa frowned. “Why are NS9 in charge? Why not us or the SPC?”

“That’s between me and the other Directors, Lieutenant,” said Holmwood. “Although, if you were to suggest that it was easier to let NS9 lead it than it was to get the European Departments to agree, you might not be a million miles away from the truth.”

Larissa smiled. “So that’s why Jamie’s going.”

Holmwood’s smile disappeared. “Yes,” he said. “You are no doubt aware of Lieutenant Carpenter’s behaviour two nights ago?”

“He told me, sir.”

“Of course he did,” said Holmwood. “So it won’t surprise you to know that if I had my way, he wouldn’t be going anywhere near this operation?”

“No, sir,” said Larissa. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Good,” said Holmwood. “Unfortunately, his name is on the NS9 selection list and I can’t stop them taking him without removing him from the active roster. And for some reason, even now, I find myself unwilling to take that step. Do you think I should?”

You’re asking me if I think you should bench my boyfriend?
thought Larissa, her eyes widening.
Jesus.

“No, sir,” she said. “Whatever mistakes Jamie may have made, he’ll do the Department proud in Romania. And I think you know that, sir.”

Holmwood shrugged, and allowed the smallest of smiles to creep on to his face. “Maybe,” he said. “I hope so, for all our sakes. But I didn’t ask you here to talk about your boyfriend, Larissa. A situation has arisen that requires you to make a decision.”

Great. I’m sure this is going to be straightforward.

“What situation, sir?”

“Are you aware of the supposed existence of a vampire who was cured of the condition?” said Holmwood.

“I heard rumours, sir,” said Larissa. “When I was in Nevada. They called him Adam.”

Holmwood nodded. “What I’m about to tell you is classified
above
Zero Hour. Is that clear?”

More secrets,
she thought.
Awesome.

“Yes, sir.”

“Intelligence has come to light that appears to confirm that Adam is real. Or was, at least. It suggests he was cured at NS9, as part of a black project that ran in the 1990s under the supervision of Christopher Reynolds, also known as Richard Talbot.”