hellcat 05 - come hell or high water (27 page)

“No, we won’t be backing out.” Darkstalker’s pleasant baritone behind him gave him a start, and he spun to face the
newcomer.  The tattooed man strode into the room, his hands tucked in his back pockets, his movements graceful and poised, as though ready for anything at any moment.  He reminded Henry a little of the couple of Vampires he’d met.  Hmm.  At least the interruption had applied the brake on his galloping mouth. 

The
tattoo of a prowling panther rippled across Darkstalker’s upper arm as he reached out to offer Henry his hand.  Henry shook it, hiding a wince at the bone-crushing grip.  “Make yourself comfortable.” The man indicated one of the chairs as he crossed to Lady Helsing and ran a possessive hand up the inside of her thigh and dipped his head to kiss the side of her neck.  She pushed him away in feigned annoyance, but the widening of her irises betrayed her true feelings.  Darkstalker chuckled, reaching around her for a bottle of port and two glasses. 

“We’re just waiting for a couple of others to join us,” he told Henry, setting the glasses down on the large conference table and filling them both almost to
overflowing.  Henry didn’t know much about drinking etiquette, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t how you were supposed to do it.  Darkstalker set the bottle down and lifted the two glasses; a defiant glint in his eye, he held one out towards Henry.  The Lieutenant stirred from his stillness in the corner.  Darkstalker glanced in the Vampire’s direction, rebelliousness tightened the corners of his mouth, and Henry held his breath as the two had some kind of unspoken battle of wills.  It felt like hours later, though it could only have been seconds, Darkstalker relented and backed down, swinging the glass towards Lady Helsing instead. 

The woman laughed aloud, throwing her head back to reveal an
intricately drawn snake slithering from behind one ear down towards the crevice between her…

“Sorry, Henry, something a little lighter perhaps,” Darkstalker said as she accepted the drink from him.  The
horned devil on Darkstalker’s neck seemed to leer viciously at Henry.

“Uh, I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a hoarse squeak.  He cleared his throat.  “Who else are we waiting for?”

“Our pet computer geek,” Darkstalker said, taking the second glass and downing the contents. The red clung to the sides of the glass as he slammed it back onto the table.  He wiped the back of a hand across his mouth, grimacing as though he didn’t particularly enjoy the taste of the alcohol.  “Not that I want to put you on the spot, we appreciate you coming to us and joining the war against the wolfspawn, but I need to know for sure that it’s genuine and hasn’t been tampered with before we use it as part of our campaign.  You understand?”  It wasn’t really a question.

“Of course,” Henry agreed.  “I’m sure I would do the same in your position.”  He was saved from further small talk by the opening of the door.

“It’s pretty grainy,” the
plump man in front of the computer whined, “but it seems legit.”  The man, of
almost indeterminable age, had a full head of scraggly blond hair, a dark scruffy beard and thick glasses.  His T-shirt was so faded that Henry could only just make out
Nathan Fillion’s face and the
Firefly
logo. It was impossible to guess what colour it had originally been.  His jeans could’ve been an entry into the ‘don’t-wash-your-denims-for-two-years’ experiment, and Henry wasn’t quite sure if his footwear was actual slippers, or just shoes so casual that they happened to look like slippers.  “Couldn’t you have used anything better than a spy shop special to record this?” he grumbled to Henry, as though the poor quality of the footage was a personal insult.

“Sorry, man, I had to use what I could fuckin’ afford,” Henry said, throwing in a note of defensiveness, but sticking with his assumed character.  It wasn’t hard after where he’d come from.

“It’s better than anything we’ve got so far,” Darkstalker interjected, and Henry was relieved that he seemed to be defending the crappy video clip.  Surely he wouldn’t be doing that if they didn’t believe he was on the level.  “Maybe you can tidy it up,
Mastermind.  Just make sure it doesn’t look doctored.  It’s our rep that’ll be on the line if anyone calls it out.”  More cheesy nicknames; Henry gulped back a snort of derision.  These guys were such phoneys. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Mastermind sounded peeved. “I’ll do what I can with it.  I’ve got a copy on my laptop.  I’ll let you know how it turns out.” 

“Darkstalker, Lady Helsing.” An excited feminine voice had all their heads turning to the doorway as Angel rushed in. 
“Bullet called to say they have a confirmed lead.
Slayer and
Reaper are tracking him now.  Oh, sorry.” The girl’s animated babble cut off as she noticed Henry in the room.  She looked a little fearfully at the two leaders, a puppy expecting a beating.

“Henry’s all right,” Darkstalker said, though Lady Helsing’s eyes had narrowed cruelly on the other woman.  Angel was Lady Helsing’s senior by at least half a dozen years, but Henry was learning that dominance wasn’t defined by age.  “What else did Bullet say?” Darkstalker asked her, either not noticing or not caring about Lady Helsing’s effect on the other woman.

“Ah, he…he…” She cleared her throat and focused on Darkstalker.  “He said it was a confirmed mark, a silver scorch, so no doubt.  They’re ready to make the capture and asked that we get
set up and ready to go on our side.  Do you want me to issue the call?”

Henry had surreptitiously been watching the play of emotions across Lady Helsing’s face while trying to keep the Lieutenant in his peripheral vision.  An anticipatory smile curved the edges of Lady Helsing’s red lips and the Lieutenant had stepped closer to the group, for once interested in proceedings.

“We have another shot,” Lady Helsing said, grim excitement lighting her face.  “It’s only a couple of days past full moon.  If we get one today, we may still be able to force the Change tonight.  It means we won’t have to wait until next full moon.” 

“Mastermind, put that video on the
back burner for now,” Darkstalker told the computer geek.  “Big Dog said the new equipment arrived this morning.  You can oversee the camera and lights set-up, we’ll use the same place as last time.  They won’t expect us to return to the same place.”

“No.”  Lady Helsing swung her leg off the chair and strode to stand to Darkstalker’s left.  “Last time was a disaster.

“Not really,” Darkstalker retorted.  “We all escaped unscathed.  The only two they caught knew next to nothing.”

“But if they find us again, the element of surprise will be gone, and the rat run is useless,” she pointed out, anger flashing in her eyes.  “We’ll use the
other one instead.  Let them find us there if they can.”

“But it’ll take much longer to get set up there.  There’s a
shitload of equipment to be moved.” Mastermind didn’t sound enthusiastic about physical labour.  The woman rounded on him, and Henry saw fear widen the guy’s pupils.  “But we have all day, we can move it.”  He had his hands up in front of his face, as though warding off an assault. 

“Find Big Dog on your way out.” Darkstalker’s calm words were the antithesis of Lady Helsing’s fury.  “Tell him to round up as much help as you need.  Perhaps Henry can help you.” He turned to Henry with a challenging smile. “Would you like to see what we have planned for this
werespawn?”

“Ah…yes.  Of course.” Henry recovered quickly.  “As long as whatever you’re going to do will reveal their dirty secret to the rest of the world, I’m in.”

“Excellent.  Angel will put you to work.”  And just like that, Henry was in with the Kresniks and dismissed.  He made sure to remove the USB drive from Mastermind’s computer as the trio left the conference room, but as Henry glanced back one final time, he could see the Lieutenant, this time without the ghostly fuzziness that usually disguised him.  He was standing in front of Darkstalker and Lady Helsing, and both humans were staring at him with glazed expressions. 

“Shit.  Shit, shit, shit,” Gabi cursed, jabbing a finger to her phone to end the connection to
voicemail and only barely resisting the urge to throw the phone at the wall. 

“What is it, Lea?” Julius asked, prowling out of the bathroom, his dark blond hair damp and spiky, a towel slung around his lean hips. He’d woken her a short while ago, well before sunset, and they’d spent the last hour making up for lost time.  She’d forgotten her phone was on silent when she joined Julius to catch up on some sleep after returning from CenOps that afternoon, and she’d missed the call from Henry.

“The Kresniks have jumped the gun,” she growled as she searched the far side of the bed for her underwear.  “That message was Henry more than two hours ago.  He was at a public
payphone.  They’ve found another Werewolf, and they’re planning to force him to Change tonight. Their intention is to live broadcast the action to a host of waiting forums and Internet sites.  Henry’s been included in the plans, so he’s tagging along to ‘help’ them, but we don’t have much time.”  She found her missing items of clothing and quickly began to dress. 

Julius paused just long enough to consider her words, then disappeared into his dressing room.  He emerged seconds later dressed in black denims and a black pullover.

“Does he know where?” He was all business, the gold rings of his eyes almost swallowed by serious blue.

“He didn’t when he left the message, but they were on the way there to prepare and set up.  Luckily for us they had to stop to put in fuel, and Henry played the weak bladder card to get away long enough to call,” she explained.  “We’ll be able to track his location once he stops moving.”

“You call Kyle, Trish and Patrick,” he told her. “Tell them to get here as soon as possible.  I’ll wake Alexander, Nathan and Fergus.”

“You can’t go out there.  I’ll wake them,” Gabi protested.  The other Vampires had their own homes on the Estate’s grounds, but there was no way to get to them without traveling in the late afternoon sunlight. 

Julius reached one long arm back into his dressing room and drew out a long black coat and a wide-brimmed hat—Savannah’s protective clothing.

“Smart ass,” she told him, but breathed an internal sigh of relief that hers wouldn’t be the wrist the others chomped down on as they woke.

“You’re sure they’re going to do this tonight?” Kyle checked, pausing his pacing.  He was uncharacteristically agitated.  “They kept Adriana for a couple of nights before they were prepared.”

“Henry was adamant,” Gabi said.  “They still believe Weres can only Change near the full moon, so they think they only have a small window or they’ll have to wait another four weeks.” 

“Bugger.” Kyle summed up the situation quite neatly.  “There’s really no time to get teams together from the other Alphas.  We’ll have to scrape together what we can, and make do.” 

“Well, we’re finally getting to do things my way,” Gabi told him with a grin; the adrenalin was already flowing.  “Rush in with all swords blazin’.”

“You do remember these guys have guns, don’t you,” Kyle reminded her sourly.  He preferred a well-planned raid over Gabi’s hit-em-and-hope approach.  Gabi’s shoulder twinged at the mention of the word guns. 

“Yes, but this time we know they have them,” Gabi pointed out, resisting the urge to rub her shoulder.  “Come to think of it, if they still have silver bullets, the less Werewolves we have on the assault team, the better.”

“She’s right,” Alexander put in.  “It’ll be best if Vampires lead the raid. We
can take silver, or anything else they shoot us with, and keep going.”

“Really?” Trish asked, astonished.

“It hurts like a son of a bitch, but yes,” Alexander said with a grin.

“I can vouch for that.” Gabi nodded.  Alexander had taken a bullet for her several months ago.  The same ambush that Doug the Shape-shifter Hunter had been shot in.  He still wasn’t fully recovered. 

“Can you check on Henry?” Gabi asked Trish.  “The sooner we know what the battlefield looks like, the easier it’ll be to form a strike plan.” 

Trish flicked open a compact laptop and set to work.

“What about the Lieutenant?” Gabi asked Julius.  “Will he feel us coming?  Will he know with enough time to give them some warning?”

“That’s a gud point,” Fergus rumbled.  “Going in by motor or on foot wid likely gie him enough time tae warn them.” 

Julius nodded, his lips pursing in thought.

“Helicopters,” Alexander said.  “If we come in from above, it should confuse him enough to still give us the jump on them.” 

“That could work,” Julius agreed.  “Patrick, can you arrange that?” He turned to the Werewolf.  “We’ll need at least three, four if you can swing it.” 

The older man nodded and had his phone at his ear as he paced away to make arrangements. 

“Lea, can you speak to Byron and see what contacts he has that can help with the
mop-up,” Julius asked her.  “We have no idea how many humans there’ll be; we may need some kind of holding place where we can keep them until we have time to wipe their memories.  An Eraser or two would make a huge difference.  The Vampire
mind-wipe works well on recent memories, but not on ones days or weeks old.”

“I’ll call Athena if I have to,” she assured him.  “I’ll find out where the SMV clean-up vans are, I’m sure we’ll be able to use those.”  She was about to make the calls when Trish squeaked in excitement. 

“I’ve got him.  Henry, he’s stationary.  And it’s a…” she tapped a few more keys, “metal works.  Looks like it’s been
non-operational for a few weeks, waiting to be refurbished.”

“That’ll be the place,” Gabi said. 

“Unless they’re onto Henry, and it’s just a decoy,” Kyle muttered. Geesh, he wasn’t quite himself today.

“We’ll send someone to check while we gear up,” Julius said, raising the blind on the window to check on the dying rays of sunset outside. 
“Moonrise is in less than three hours.  Fergus, you’re in charge of rousing the Vampires who are coming with.  Alexander, arrange someone to gather the protective clothing and weapons from storage, load a van with whatever we can spare for the Werewolves, and make sure the rest is ready to load onto the helicopters.”