30 Days of Night: Light of Day (11 page)

Which left Marina with a precarious balancing act. She had to convince the subcommittee members that vampires weren’t real but that Operation Red-Blooded
needed to be left exactly as it was—or maybe funded a little more heavily—in order to keep them that way.

When Kleefeld had first described the problem, she openly wondered if there was someone she could kill to make the whole subcommittee disappear.

Kleefeld had buried his ruddy face in his hands. “Oh my God … you … you can’t kill a senator, Marina,” he had said. “You just have to lie under oath. And you have to do it convincingly, because these people see liars every time they look in the mirror, so they know all the signs.”

“Lying won’t be a problem,” Marina had said. “I’m good at that.”

But that hadn’t been reassurance enough for Kleefeld. He had insisted on going over every aspect of her testimony with her, trying to anticipate every question that might conceivably be asked. It always came back around to the tightrope.
If vampires are not a problem, why do we need Operation Red-Blooded?

Because you want to make sure they
don’t
become a problem
was the preferred response. Not quite the same as admitting that they existed—but not so far off, either.

She got to the Capitol an hour and a half before her testimony was to begin. There were security checkpoints she had to go through. Even though she was licensed to—
expected
to—carry firearms anywhere, she had left hers locked up in her car. Then she had a private meeting scheduled with Georgia senator Bobby
Harlowe, chairman of the subcommittee, to discuss the rules of her appearance. Kleefeld had offered to have an agency attorney with her for that meeting, but she had declined. The lawyer would be at her side during her testimony, and that was good enough for her.

Marina was not easily impressed, but the vast rotunda of the Capitol always did the trick. She walked slowly through the building, listening to the click of her heels on marble floors, watching people she usually saw only on the evening news. The sense of history was palpable, weighing as delightfully heavily on her as a truffle on her tongue. She was a killer, a brawler, a woman who loved violence and sex with a ferocity that more intellectual pursuits could never inspire. But she had a powerful appreciation for history, too. Although her father had been Japanese and she was raised in both countries, she had grown up thinking of herself as an American, and being in this place forced her to take that citizenship seriously.

She loved her job because she got paid to kill bloodsuckers. But she loved killing bloodsuckers, in part, because every one she killed meant some number of Americans would not be murdered in the night.

An aide showed her into Senator Harlowe’s inner office. It was vast, paneled in dark wood, anchored by a desk that must have weighed as much as one of the faces on Mount Rushmore. Fighter planes could have landed on its surface. The senator had animal heads and skins on one wall, four TVs—two of which were
tuned to Fox News and CNN even though the sound was muted—a sitting area with rich, comfortable leather furniture, and a full bar.

“Can I offer you anything to drink, Ms. Tanaka-Dunn?” he asked.

“Some water would be nice.” No way she was going to drink before giving congressional testimony. She needed to stay sharp, to keep the lies straight.

“Fine, fine. Have a seat.” He waved toward the sitting area. In a corner formed by a sofa and an overstuffed chair was one of those giant antique globes, the kind on which you expect sea monsters to be painted in the oceans. She sat on the couch and he brought her a glass of water and himself something that looked like bourbon over very few rocks. “We appreciate you coming by today.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“Well, you didn’t. But we appreciate it, just the same.”

“Anything I can do for my country,” she said.

Senator Harlowe sat down in the chair. He had difficulty, Marina noticed, tearing his gaze away from her legs. She crossed them one way, then uncrossed them, then crossed them the other. The whole time, he stared, absently licking his lips.
Maybe they don’t get a lot of women testifying,
she thought.

Then she thought something else, and uncrossed them again, tilting slightly more toward the good senator.

Marina wondered if he could have been more obvious. He called to an aide to make sure they weren’t disturbed. He locked the door with a loud click. He grunted and groaned out loud, especially when he took her up against the wall, her back pressed into the musty pelt of some ancient, half-lame creature he had shot. She believed that she had become some sort of trophy, just like the dead animals. After she was gone, he would laugh with his male aides. “See what I bagged today?” he would ask. Hysterical.

But after his pants were fastened and her clothes were returned to something resembling the state they had been in originally, he sat down at his huge desk and made a couple of phone calls, while Marina waited in a visitor’s chair. “I don’t think we actually need to have that meeting today,” he had told her. “Operation Red-Blooded is too important to be compromised, and to tell you the truth I don’t entirely trust some of my, ah … colleagues on that panel. Let’s just put through the funding for the next fiscal year and call it a day.”

Marina had stretched, then made a little wincing noise. “I think I’m just a little bit sore,” she said.

“Maybe with a five percent increase,” he added with a smile.

“Thank you, Senator.”

“And I’m sure we can keep the funding spigot flowing … as long as you stop by for a visit every now and again.” He gave her a smile that was more of a leer,
and Marina wondered if there had ever been a woman who thought that was sexy. She supposed a man with his power didn’t need to be genuinely attractive in any other way. “To keep me updated, of course, on all of Red-Blooded’s vital activities in the national interest.”

“Of course.”

“Fine,” he said, and started making the calls.

On her way out of the office he pinched her ass hard enough to leave a mark.

She didn’t realize it was something men still did in this day and age, but it was fine with her. It would give her something to focus on next time she needed to summon her inner vengeance demon, to beat the life from a bloodsucker.

And it would make her yet more indispensable to Operation Red-Blooded, and to Zachary Kleefeld, or whoever ended up becoming the organization’s new director once it chewed up and spat out the “Acting Director.”

She had taken one for the team, and she would no doubt take more. If it would allow her to keep killing bloodsuckers, she was glad to do it.

M
ARINA LEFT
S
ENATOR
H
ARLOWE’S
office and headed down the broad Capitol corridor with a half-smile on her face. Despite her initial reservations, she had just been getting worked up when the senator finished, so she was far from satisfied. But she knew that sometimes retreat was the most diplomatic option. It wasn’t like she had gone there looking for sex, after all, and now she didn’t have to worry about testifying. The sex had only been okay but the bargain was more payoff than she had hoped for, and all in all she thought it was an hour well spent.

She was less than halfway to the exit when she heard hurried footsteps behind her. The building was a busy one, so the footsteps could have belonged to any of thousands of people. Just in case, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw one of Harlowe’s aides rushing toward her. He was young and earnest, with short spiked dark hair and splotchy red cheeks. He wore a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up over nice forearms, a striped tie, and dress pants. She stopped and let him catch up.

“Ms. Dunn!” he said as he neared her.

“Tanaka-Dunn,” she corrected.

“I’m sorry. Ms. Tanaka-Dunn. Can I talk to you for a second?”

“It seems as if you already are.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, catching his breath from his short dash. “Right, sorry. Maybe outside, though?”

She had no reason to deny him that. She had expected to be in the building for hours yet, suffering through a grilling from Harlowe’s committee. Since the senator had spared her that, she could spare a few minutes for his aide. Anyway, the day was warm, with the humidity that would set in later in the summer nowhere in evidence yet, so spending the time outside would be no hardship. “Sure, no problem.”

“Great, that’s great.”

He didn’t say anything more until they had passed through security and started down the big flight of stairs outside. She didn’t prod. This was his game, whatever it was; she would let him reveal the rules.

Halfway down the stairs, he touched her arm. “I know what you do,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?”

“My name is Barry Wolnitz, since we didn’t actually meet. I know all about Operation Red-Blooded. I’m a policy aide for Senator Harlowe. To tell you the truth, if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t know if he was a Republican or a Democrat.”

“I thought he was an Independent.”

“See how bad it is?”

Marina laughed, and they went the rest of the way down.

On the street outside the building, they walked close together. “So what are you talking about?” she asked.

“I advise the senator on all kinds of policy matters. That means I have to know what’s going on. That means I have security clearances out my ass.”

“Nice image,” she said.

“I didn’t figure you for a dainty flower.”

She guessed if he knew that much about Harlowe’s business he probably also knew what it meant when the senator locked his door with an attractive woman inside. “You were right. Dainty I’m not.”

“Point is, I know you’re like this big-shot vampire hunter or something, so let’s not kid ourselves. I know they’re real, and I know that you guys need every dime of your budget to deal with them.”

Marina didn’t know how to answer him. He might have been fishing, might have put two and two together but be looking for confirmation. She couldn’t give him anything until she knew what he already knew. “And?”

“And I want to see.”

She stopped walking, turned to face him. “Excuse me? See what?”

“I want to go out with you sometime. I want to see them for myself. Vampires.”

“Why?”

“Ms. Tanaka-Dunn, really. Maybe you’re used to
the existence of the undead, but for the rest of us? It’s a pretty big deal. It blows away just about everything we’ve ever been taught about how the world works, about life and death, religion, God, everything.”

“You might be giving a little too much importance to something that’s basically a scientific anomaly.”

“I think it’s more than that.
The dead walk.
That’s a major thing.”

“Okay …”

“And I want to see it for myself.”

“That’s impossible, Barry.”

“Why? I’ve gone on ride-alongs with the DC gang unit and a stakeout with the FBI. I sat in on a hostage negotiation that took fourteen hours. I flew into Baghdad on the fifteenth day of the war. I’ve done all kinds of dangerous things.”

“So you’re some kind of thrill seeker?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the danger. It’s more … I don’t know, a compulsion. I want to know, to understand what goes on in the world.”

“I wish I could help,” Marina said. “Really, I do. But—”

“I can make things a lot easier for you.”

“Easier how?”

“I know the senator very well, I can assure you. I’m sure he had a great time today, and I know he made certain promises to you. I notice the committee meeting is canceled, and you’re off the hook.”

“So?”

“So those promises he made can be easy to keep, or they can be hard. I’d like to make them easy.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Not at all. I really want to help. I think what you’re doing is valuable work. I just want to see it for myself once. After that,
anything
Senator Harlowe wants to do for you, I can make it happen.”

Marina didn’t have to consider the idea for long. He was no doubt right. Senator Harlowe probably didn’t write his own legislation, much less handle the day-today affairs of his office. He would be too busy raising money and appearing on talk shows. Having someone else on the inside to keep things running smoothly would certainly help.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?”

“I just said yes. Can you be ready at ten o’clock?”

“What, tonight? You’re saying they’re right here in Washington?”

“I’m not saying anything. Just be ready to go at ten. Don’t say a word to anyone, not even Harlowe. Especially Harlowe. Wear dark clothes, and shoes you can run in.”

“Okay, but …”

“Are you in or not?”

“I’m in. Trust me, I am so in.” He started to reach for his wallet. “Here, I’ll give you my address.”

“Don’t bother,” Marina said. “Barry Wolnitz. Works for Senator Harlowe. I’ll see you at ten.”

T
HE JET LANDED IN
Philadelphia shortly before midnight. Barry Wolnitz hadn’t been told where they were going, and shades had been pulled over the windows. He had known better than to try raising them. The flight hadn’t been long, and if he knew Philadelphia, he might be able to recognize it once they were on the ground. Marina didn’t care if he did or not; she just didn’t want to make it too easy on him. If something went wrong tonight, she didn’t want him coming back here on his own, launching some sort of personal crusade. She didn’t necessarily think that he was the sort who would, but she had only just met him and didn’t like taking unnecessary chances. People could be every bit as unpredictable as bloodsuckers. More so, because all a vampire wanted in the end was to feed. Humans would forgo nourishment for the stupidest of reasons.