Drew D'Amato:Bloodlines:02 (10 page)

Malachi reloaded the Milkor.  Vlad took it, walked to the northernmost edge of the crater before the front of the house and dropped down.

Vlad landed next to the far left side of the glass for the panic room.  The angle made it impossible for Radu to shoot the NSV at him.  Vlad smiled.  He walked over to the slit and stuck the barrel of the grenade launcher in it, keeping his body behind the glass.  Radu’s eyes lit up in fear upon the realization of what he was about to do.  He fired all six rounds inside the room.  The room lit up with explosions and only what could be seen for a moment was fire and bright light.  The blindness was temporary and when it died down the NSV was on fire, and the room was empty.

Nothing, he must be dead.

Vlad scanned the wall next to the glass looking for a way into the panic room.  But panic rooms were designed exactly so that no one from the outside could get in.  It was locked, and he could not enter.  He had no way in, but there was no way out.  A panic room did not have a panic room. 
Is Radu dead?

He turned back and walked into the main basement.  There were no vampires anymore.  He knew Gabriel had been on the stairs out of the sun.  He went to the stairs and looked up.  Nothing but the titanium door closed shut.  He walked back to the dimples.  If there were any vampires in there, they would still be there.  The sunlight pouring in would not kill them, which was why they slept in the dirt.  He stuck his hand in a few of them and each time he came out with the same thing—nothing.  No more vampires anywhere. 
Radu is dead.

“Vlad, what are you doing down there?” Jericho asked sticking his head through the hole. 

“There are no more vampires.  We killed him, we fucking killed him.”

“Great, but I hear reality approaching us.”

Vlad could hear the distant sound of sirens getting louder.  He jumped up on the same blue rock Malachi and Jericho used and got out of there.  So many emotions rushed through his body, but all he could focus on then was
GET AWAY. 
He had eternity to enjoy this victory. 

NINE

1

M
alachi drove the rented Land Cruiser.  Vlad rode shotgun, and Jericho sat in the back. 

“Should we check out of the hotel, or just get out of the country?” Malachi asked.
They were getting close to where they would have to make a decision as to where to go.

“We can’t check out if we wanted to, Michael booked the room,” Jericho said from the backseat.

The wind was knocked out of the conversation at the sound of that name.

They had accomplished both goals on this trip, but they also sacrificed discretion on both occasions.  The cops were actually on their way once Radu started firing the NSV, it was so loud.  They got out in time but they had to accept the possibility that Interpol would now involved.  In the past month there had been three violent attacks in Europe with the assailants using silver-painted bullets.  They would be forced to feel these events were related. 

“Michael used the same name at the hotel that he used to pass through customs,” Vlad said.  “Interpol is going to be involved, and it’s only a matter of time until they see the connection.”  He turned to Jericho behind him.  “When we get a chance we need to throw out the IDs we used to get through customs.”  He then turned back to Malachi.  “And you need to get rid of the ID you used to rent this car.”

“That’s only going to leave me with the ID Morris gave me,” Malachi said.

“Fine, at least you have one.  Anything that ties us back to Geneva or Romania we need to get rid of.  Soon enough Interpol will be checking everywhere people can get out of the country.  We don’t want any connection to anything involving silver bullets.  They can already connect the names we used in customs at Geneva to our hotel.  From our hotel they will branch out to car rental places in the area.  Maybe they come to the one we used, and maybe the clerk that waited on you tells them that today he rented an SUV to six strange men dressed in black with suitcases that could have held powerful weapons?”

“I see your point, take no chances.  But if that is true, I won’t be able to get this truck out of the country.  How do you expect us to get to Munich?”

“Munich!” Jericho said from the back.

“What’s wrong?” Vlad asked.

“If they cross-referenced the names that passed through customs and the hotel in Sibiu, how long until they figure out which flight we came in on?  They will be able to trace that private jet back to Munich.” 

“Should we not take the flight?” Malachi asked.

“It would be imperative for them to get to that plane before it departs.  They will be there waiting for us.”

“Call James,” Vlad said.  “Tell him we are going to stay here a lot longer, too long for him to wait for us.  Tell him to fly back to the states alone.”

“Will they let him leave?” Malachi asked.

“Maybe, but whatever happens to him, I’m sure it would be better than if we actually showed up.  He’s just a pilot; they can’t do anything to him.  Also the quicker James knows to leave, the better chance of him getting out before they tie together all these loose ends.”

“But without James, how do we get home with these guns?”

“Malachi, we no longer need guns.”

Malachi’s face awoke with understanding.  Vlad smiled.  “Pull over right here,” Vlad ordered.

Malachi pulled off on the side of a country road up in the mountains.  There were no cars anywhere.  After the barrier on the edge of the road, the mountain sloped into a green pool of trees down below.  The three of them got out of the car. 

“Drop all your weapons down here, everything you got,” Vlad said.

The men opened up the trunk and tossed their weapons in the cases down the mountainside.

“Now toss those IDs,” Vlad said.

Malachi threw away the ID he used to rent the Land Rover.  Jericho and Vlad threw away their IDs: Vance Sheen and Paul Cryer.

“I should throw this too,” Vlad said.  He held the silver sniper round from the airport.

“What is that?” Malachi asked.

“It was the bullet that almost killed me at Geneva.  I had been holding onto it like a good luck charm, but the last thing we need on us right now is a silver bullet.”

He dropped it over the edge.  They stood there quietly as they heard the bullet echo off the cliff below.

“So what are we going to do to get home?” Jericho asked.

“The Eurotrain.  Even if they find this car, the trains can take us to anywhere in Europe.  They won’t be able to narrow it down.  They’ll be lost with all the different possible routes we could have taken.  Eventually we will end up in London.”

“And once we are in London?”

“Hop across the pond.  I’ll have Warburton purchase the tickets.  He can say he did it for family members.”

“Yeah, it’s not that hard now that we don’t have to worry about guns,” Malachi said.

“So this is what it’s like without the war?” Jericho asked.

“We’re still in shock, but it will get better,” Vlad said as he started back toward the car.  “Jericho, call James.”

They got in the car and the line on the other end picked up.  “James…it’s Jericho…um, we’ll probably be at Munich later tonight, sometime after midnight, like around 2 a.m…okay, see you then.”

Vlad turned around and curiously looked at Jericho when he hung up. 

“Did you forget everything I just said?”

“That wasn’t James.”

2

B
andini wished he could be with Clerc and Bodmer.  They waited inside James’s plane.  Bandini would love to see the look on Vlad and his vampires faces before they were killed.  But news came in on the wire and he had to move.  Cops in Sibiu, Romania responded to a call of gunshots at a residence.  When they got there they found a massive hole in the front lawn leading to some type of cave, shells from silver bullets, and not one body. 

It was the vampires, and this time at a residence.  Could it be one of their homes?

He took the first flight out of Munich airport to Sibiu International Airport.  He moved as fast as he could, but it still took him a few hours from hearing the news to arriving at the house.  He got to the mansion sometime after nine at night and the place was still swarmed with police almost twelve hours after the first shots were reported.

In his transit he had a chance to think about his cover story as to why he was here.  This was a crime scene at a private residence.  He couldn’t be just a casual observer, like how he acted at the Geneva airport until he got in touch with Bodmer and Clerc.  He thought about the reason for his presence at the crime scene and it didn’t take him too long.  Subterfuge was one of specialties. 

When he got out of his car, what first caught his eye was the size of the crater in the front lawn.  There were floodlights positioned inside the crater and Bandini was able to catch a small view of what was down below.  Some large dark blue rocks, signs of an explosion, bullet holes, and some kind of room in the back that he couldn’t get a clear look at. 

He walked up to the front door, and showed his identification to the Romanian cop at the door.  He asked what Bandini was doing here.

“Is anyone from Interpol here yet?” Bandini asked back in Romanian.

“Special Agent Gonzalez is downstairs.”  

“Can you let him know I am here?  It would only take a moment of his time.”

The officer walked back into the house and went to get Gonzalez, leaving Bandini to walk around the house for a bit.  His eyes roamed for only a second until he found the fountain.  He walked up to it like a mindless zombie.  It wasn’t the evil look on the gargoyle that had him in awe but the blood spewing out of its mouth into the pool. 
This was a vampire’s house. 
A
Crusader had never been inside an actual vampire’s home before.  There was so much to learn.  Remus Frumos was the name on the deed of this house according to the public records.  The Crusaders, being made up of mostly police, allowed no lack of resources to gather information.  However, Gonzalez was not part of the Crusaders, so he was not too happy to have some strange man at his crime scene.  But Gonzalez had to respect this man’s credentials.

“So what is the Inspector General of Corps of Gendarmerie of Vatican City doing contaminating my crime scene?” Gonzalez said to him.  He spoke in English.  It was a universal language.

Bandini turned around and faced the handsome Spaniard, who wore a navy suit similar to the one Bandini had on.

“Money, as always.  Silverado Bandini,” Bandini held out his hand.

“Special Agent Enrico Gonzalez.” Gonzalez did not shake his hand.  “Please explain, my time is short.”

“A few weeks ago the man whose name this house is under, Remus Frumos—”

“Frumos, yeah we can’t find anything about that guy,” Gonzalez said.  “Except that Frumos also means beautiful in Romanian.”

It also means handsome,
Bandini had noticed.

“Well this Frumos,” Bandini continued.  “Wanted to get IOR to invest in his company.  Some new technological crave to rival the Kindle and the iPad.  He wanted to call this product the EText.  He was also going to capitalize the E and first T in the word to give like an ‘ET, out of the world feel to it,’ as he put it.  It would also be significantly cheaper than the iPad.  He had made a very persuasive presentation, and we were interested.”

“That’s great, I’ll buy stock, but I didn’t think the Vatican Bank invested in consumer products?”

“The Insitute for Works of Religion can only invest in works of religion.  Frumos offered that each EText would come with a complimentary copy of the Bible.”

“Spreading the word of the lord, and now you guys can invest.”

“Yes, it sounds slippery but…”

“Slippery is the Vatican bank.”

Bandini could tell Gonzalez felt his time was being wasted, and overall didn’t care for the office Bandini represented.

“Well, we all have our secrets.  Anyway, he also deposited half a billion dollars into our bank as a sign of good faith.  Then we heard about this, and I was asked to come here since I am also an officer of the law and maybe get enough information on this individual to aid the Supreme
Pontiff in his decision to move forward on this project.”

“Ahh, but he is the Vicar of Christ, can’t Jesus just tell him what to do?”

“Agent Gonzalez, are you an athiest?  It’s none of my business, but by your tone I can tell you feel I am wasting your time.”

“My feelings have nothing to do with my religious beliefs.  You are wasting my time because you have nothing to add to my case.  You only came here to see if your big man with a bigger hat had gotten himself involved in another scandal.  Personally I’m not an atheist, I just don’t care; but you are an officer yourself, and you know how to act around a crime scene so I’ll help you out.  This isn’t as bad as a reason as I first thought when I heard someone from the Vatican was here.”

“What did you think my reason was?”

“Some looney looking for signs of a miracle.”

“Why would I go to a crime scene looking for a miracle?”

“You haven’t seen the rest of the crime scene, come with me downstairs.”

The story Bandini had given him was complete bullshit, but it worked, and Bandini was getting the chance to explore the residence.  The only part of it that was true, was that Bandini really was the General Inspector for the
Corps of Gendarmerie of Vatican City
—the police for Vatican City.  This helped him get information about Clerc and Bodmer working for TIGRIS.  He had a lot of connections with the Pontifical Swiss Guard.  This was also why he chose to use his real name.  It was the only way for him to provide some credibility for him to be at this crime scene. 

Gonzalez talked as they walked down the stairs.  “I noticed that fountain impressed you, but what I found stranger is down here.”

They made it to the basement.  Gonzalez let Bandini look around.  Bandini noticed the dimples in the dirt and knew they were the resting places for vampires.  He got a closer look at one of the blue rocks.

“Those blue rocks mean anything to you, we got nothing?” Gonzelez asked

“These blue rocks are actually bluestones.  Bluestones are a type of rock used in Stonehenge.  A group of them form a circle, and another group of them closer to the middle make up a horseshoe.  Inside that horseshoe sat the altar stone.”

“Well now that you mention it, they are kind of arranged like a horseshoe.  There isn’t an altar stone in the middle though, but there is this.”

Gonzelez pointed to the coffin turned over in front of a glass wall.

Bandini walked over to it in shock.  Here was an actual coffin that a vampire actually slept in. 
The head vampire must have slept inside this. 

Gonzalez approached Bandini from behind.  “I’ve seen criminals like this before.  Bastards who think they are vampires or belonging to some kind of cult.  They usually deal with smuggling humans or something sick like that.  It might explain the interest in a fountain that spits blood.”

Bandini didn’t think Gonzalez would be receptive to the actual idea of vampires, but the timing seemed right and like a good salesmen, he knew to
always be closing.