C.O.T.V.H. (Book 2): Judgment (15 page)

“Okay, I can understand that, but . . .” Nathan started to say but was quickly cut off.

“I’m not finished.”  Hernandez held up his hand.  “When I first took office Derek and I worked out of a broom closet in the lowest basement of the Pentagon.  We had almost no budget to speak of and absolutely zero staff.  With the connections Derek and I made we turned my position from a complete joke into a successful operation.  Do you have any idea how many vampires have been killed since I took office?”  He looked over at Derek.

Derek smiled.  “As of this morning, two thousand three hundred and seventy eight bounties have been claimed.  Of course, ninety-five percent of those were grunts, but the numbers don’t lie.  We are making a huge impact on their numbers.”

“As you can see Mr. Bishop,” Hernandez picked back up the conversation, “I take my job
very
seriously.  So, today I am here to discuss a possible alliance with your people.  We don’t know much about you, but what we do know is that you have effectively kept the vampires from crossing the Mississippi River for well over two hundred years.  So frankly, we would like to make some sort of a deal.

“We’ve worked out an arrangement with Williams and his people, and all personal feelings aside, I don’t see why we can’t do the same with you.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Nathan said, turning around in his seat and putting the jeep back in drive.  “But I’m telling you right now, however noble your intentions, don’t get your hopes up.”

They pulled into the familiar motel and Jake exchanged greetings with the manager, Joe, a short but strong looking African American man in his late forties.  After they were settled in, Nathan said, he’d take them to the meeting place.  Apparently his superiors were ready to get this over with.

The Jeep pulled up to a huge plantation smack dab in the middle of town.  It was surrounded on all sides by large weeping willows and park benches.  Jake climbed out of the car amazed at what he was seeing.  He’d never seen a house look so elegant and grand.

“Damn fine house,” Billy said, also looking around.  “You know my great, great grandmother was a slave on a plantation just like this.  Amazing isn’t it.”

“What’s that?” Nathan said, stopping to listen.

“That something so elegant could have caused so many so much pain.”

A sad look came over Nathan’s face.  “Slavery was a travesty.  It was one of the most terrible things to happen in this country.  I’m truly sorry for what your grandmother went through Mr. Williams.”

Billy smiled, “hey don’t sweat it Mr. Bishop.  It’s not like you were the one that owned them.  Besides the world has come a long ways since then.”

Nathan managed a weak smile, “please call me Nathan, or if you prefer Nate.  That’s what my friends call me.”

“And you can call me Billy.”  He nodded.  “That’s what my friends call
me.
” He laughed a deep throaty laugh.

Both Jake and Nathan couldn’t help but join in his laughter.  It was contagious.  Jake understood now more than ever, why his dad and grandpa cared so much for this man.  Billy always seemed happy, always seemed content.  He told some of the worst jokes Jake had ever heard, but each time he couldn’t help but laugh.

Hernandez cleared his throat breaking off their laughter.  “This way,” Nathan said, ushering them to a big glass front door.  He opened the door into a large parlor area.  A beautiful middle age African American woman ushered them in taking their coats, then showed them to a group of comfortable chairs in a large sitting room.  She greeted Nathan with a kiss on the cheek then disappeared through a set of white double doors.  “That was Tabitha,” he said to Jake.  “An old friend of mine.”

She returned several minutes later followed by two large men dressed in Armani suits.  Jake almost had to strain his neck to look at the bigger of the two.  He stood taller than any man Jake had ever seen, out doing John by at least six inches.  His shoulders and chest were massive.  A thick head of blond hair hung down past his shoulders.  The only person that would even come close to his size was Macro, and he was a Maker.

The big man caught Jake staring at him and raised his eyebrows.  Jake saw a fire in the man’s eyes that he’d never seen in anyone.  It was almost frightening.  Jake couldn’t help but look away.

The other man was much older, in his early sixties.  His hair was gray and cut short but he wore a long beard that hung a good six inches down the front of his shirt.  Both men shook hands with Nathan.

“Gentleman.  These are my elders.  Mr. Ragnar.”  He motioned to the older man.  “And his son Ubbe.”

“How do you do?” Mr. Ragnar said, as Nathan introduced them.  Handshakes were accepted around the room.  When introductions were done, Nathan waved everyone into the large dining room where Mr. Ragnar and his son had just come from.

Jake started to follow but was stopped by Nathan.  “Sorry kid.  You’ll have to stay out here.”

“Oh come one Nate,” Jake pleaded.  “I’ve come this far.  Just let me sit in, I promise I won’t make a peep.”

“Sorry.  Can’t do it.”  Nathan pointed to the chairs they’d been sitting in. 

Grudgingly Jake did as he was told.  Reluctantly he sat down and began tapping his feet anxiously on the hardwood floor.  After an hour, Tabitha came out and sat down next to him.  “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No I’m okay,” Jake said, looking down at his watch.

“Come now, what can I get for you?” she said, with a deep Southern accent.  “A young boy like you must be thirsty.”

“I’ll take a Dr. Pepper if you’ve got it.”  He smiled.

She patted him on the knee.  “Coming right up.”

Something about the way she spoke was bothering Jake.  It was almost as if she was right out of some civil war movie. 
Strange.  Come to think of it, everyone in this town speaks with an accent, and not all of them southern.

Tabitha came back with a cold glass bottle of Dr. Pepper.  Jake tasted it.  His taste buds flooded with flavor.  “Oh man.” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “That’s the best Dr. Pepper I’ve
ever
had.”

“Made with
real
cane
sugar.  None of that nasty corn syrup.”
She smiled then walked back toward the kitchen.  “Just let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

“Sure thing.  Thank you!” he called after her.

“You are most welcome!”  Her voice echoed against the walls.

Jake sat there for an additional two hours until finally breaking.  He couldn’t take it any longer.  He had to know what was going on in that room. 

Jake rose to his feet and stretched.  He looked around nonchalantly, making sure that Tabitha wasn’t anywhere in the immediate vicinity.  Very slowly he began his walk toward the white doors.  Black and white pictures adorned the walls on both sides of the large parlor.  Jake couldn’t help but stop and glance at several of them.  Most were of Ragnar and Ubbe dressed in Civil War attire.

“That’s weird,” Jake said, inspecting one of the larger portraits.  Ragnar was dressed in a Confederate Uniform with two stars on the collar.  “Guess they must
really
be into Civil War reenactments.”

The next picture appeared to be of Ragnar standing side by side with another Confederate General. 
Is that . . . no it can’t be. 
Jake leaned in closer.
  Is that General Lee?  It sure as hell is!  This can’t be Ragnar.  It’s got to be his Great Grandfather or something.  Amazing how much they look alike.

Raised voices from inside the dining room drew Jake’s attention away from the black and white photos and on to his original task. 
Guess it’s not going so well.
  He thought tiptoeing to the door.

“Your promises mean
nothing
to me,” Ragnar said in a heated tone.  “Your government has
never
cared for my people.  Everything it does revolves around money and greed.  There is no truth, no honor in your words.”

“How can you say that?” Hernandez’s muffled voice replied.  “What could we have possibly done to earn this level of suspicion and hatred?”

“Not all of us here have forgotten the war,” Ubbe’s angry voice boomed.

“War?  What war?” Hernandez responded, clearly confused.

“
The
War.”  Ubbe stated in a tone suggesting Hernandez was a fool for even asking.  “The War of Northern Aggression.”

The room fell in complete silence.

“You must be joking,” Derek suddenly spoke up.  “I mean, seriously?  You’re still upset over the Civil War . . . a war that took place before our grandfathers were even born?”

“Watch your tone, boy,” Ragnar said.  “There was nothing
civil
about that coward, Sherman’s march on Georgia.”

“Okay, I think we all need to take a deep breath and calm down,” Billy said trying to play the mediator.  “We came here to ask for your help.  That’s it.  We both share the same enemy, so why not join forces?”

“Mr. Williams,” Ragnar said slowly, “I have nothing but respect for you and your Coalition.  And it is my understanding that you, and most of your associates, are all capable and honorable men.  It is your so called allies . . .
these
government tools that I cannot and will not tolerate.”

“Let me assure you,” Hernandez said in a sarcastic tone, “that myself and my people had absolutely nothing to do with Sherman marching on Atlanta, or the defeat at Gettysburg, or Reconstruction, or carpet baggers, or pretty much anything else that happened a hundred and fifty years ago.”

The outer doors suddenly opened and Jake quickly pulled his ear away and pretended to focus on a photo on the wall. A familiar voice echoed from down the hall.  “My, my, it is cold out there!” he said coming into Jake’s line of sight.

The white haired man pulled off his coat and shook the snow from it before hanging it on a rack next to the door.  “Tabitha my dear, I apologize but it seems I have gotten snow all over your nice clean floors.”

“Mr. Orwell!” Jake exclaimed walking toward him.

During his imprisonment at his grandfather’s, there had been one link to the outside world - a tutor that Riker had hired to give Jake the best education available.  Other than his time spent visiting with Tiberius, it was the only good thing to come from the ordeal.

“Well, well!”  Mr. Orwell smiled warmly.  “What a wonderful surprise.”

Jake shook the man’s hand.  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I live here!” Mr. Orwell laughed.  “Well not
here
of course, but in Hometown.  It is amazing to see you again Jacob. When the Riker place burned down I feared the worst.  I can’t tell you how happy I was when Nathan assured me you had gotten out just fine.”

“You know Nathan?”

“Of course.  Nathan and I have been friends for . . . my goodness, it seems like forever.  It is really not that big of a coincidence when you think about it.  After all, Hometown is a small town.  No more than a few thousand people.  Naturally everyone knows everyone else in one way or another.  So tell me, Jacob, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay.”  Jake nodded.  “After I escaped the fire, I reconnected with my dad and grandpa and everything has been moving forward since.”

“Yes . . . the ‘fire.’” he said, making quotation marks with his fingers.

Does he know the truth?
Jake wondered.

“So, what are you doing here now, just paying a visit to our fair little town?”

“Well, uh . . .” Jake said uncertainly.  “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”

“Oh?  Top-secret then?  Hush, hush business that you cannot talk about under penalty of death?”

“Actually it’s something exactly like that.”

Jake jumped when the doors to the dining room banged open violently. Billy, Hernandez, and Derek came out of the room, their faces white as a sheet. “What happened?” Jake asked, looking them over.

“Nothing, nothing,” Billy said. 

“Let’s go!” Hernandez added, heading for the front door.

“It was good to see you again, lad.”  Mr. Orwell smiled gripping Jake’s hand in both of his.  “I’ve got a meeting with one of my oldest friends now but I hope to see you again soon.”

“Good to see you again too, Mr. Orwell,” Jake said.

“Ian.”  Nathan nodded at Mr. Orwell as he passed him in the hall.

“Nathan.” He replied with a friendly nod. He stepped into the large dining room and closed the doors behind him. 

Unable to hold it any longer, Nathan suddenly broke into intense laughter.  Jake noticed several of the buttons on his shirt were undone.  “Nate?  What the heck happened in there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughed even harder, patting Jake on the shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” Jake furrowed his brow.

“Nothing, really,” Nathan held up his hand trying to stop.  “I’m sorry Jake.  It’s just . . . I don’t think Billy and your government friends were expecting
that!
”

“Expecting what exactly?” Jake said, growing slightly angry.  “Just what is going on around here?”

Nathan’s laughter finally stopped and he took a deep breath.  “Well long story short we couldn’t come to an agreement.”

“That’s what’s funny?”

“Not exactly,” Nathan said, wiping the tears from his eyes.  “I’m sorry Jake.  I tried, I really did.  But Ragnar is set in his ways.  He just doesn’t trust Hernandez’s superiors.”

“Well, that’s alright Nate.”  Jake lowered his head in defeat.  “At least we tried.”

“Don’t beat yourself up kid.  The offer for any member of your Coalition to take refuge here still stands.  Anytime you need to get away you are all welcome here.”

“Thanks Nate.  I guess that’s something.  Can you tell me one thing though?”

“Depends, what’s the question?”

“How do you keep the vampires at bay?  I mean, my friend’s dad says they’ve never crossed the Mississippi.  Not a single case.”

“Oh they cross.”  Nathan frowned.  “You know that first hand.”

“Yeah but you guys beat them back like they were nothing.”

“I wish I could tell you Jake, but as Mr. Hernandez put it, orders are orders.”