William's Tale (17 page)

“Has the President been briefed about the event?” asked Raymond.

“Yes. He was unaware of the breech at the time. He is still safely tucked away in the residence quarters, probably asleep by now.” Dixon raised an eyebrow, “Nobody suspects anything, but am I correct in assuming that the man was a vampire?”

“Yes.” Raymond nodded towards Ben. “Show him.”

Ben shrugged the backpack off his massive shoulders and handed it over to Dixon, who opened the bag and studied its contents.

“These forged documents are damn good copies of the invite to the President’s state dinner. Looks like four security passes and paperwork as well. Christ,” Dixon cursed.

“The forger is an EKIA. He gave us quite a chase and thought he could ditch us in a park outside the city, but we staked him.” Raymond sighed. “He also took a pregnant woman hostage at the start of the chase. She didn’t survive. By now, her body has been discovered.” Raymond glanced across the table with saddened eyes at his team members. The pain of the loss hung in the air.

“There was no way to save her.” Ben then shifted gears, pointing to the forged documents. “With the dinner still days away, there’s time to get new passes made.”

Dixon didn’t comment on the death. She’d become another unsolved murder, just like all the others. “I’m sure you did what you could.” Dixon studied the evidence in his hand. “At least the passes contain pictures. Should be good for some facial recognition software … might get a hit in the FBI, CIA or police databases. Obviously the people on the IDs will try and infiltrate the state dinner next week. The President is in grave danger.” Setting the IDs aside, he asked, “Any idea what might be on the memory cards?”

“Probably backups of these documents,” Sterling tossed out.

“Or maybe Intel as to whom the leader is. If we’re lucky,” Ben added.

Sterling pointed his gloved finger at the backpack, “I didn’t sense anything off of the docs or the tech stuff, but I got a reading off of the backpack. The forger was a loner and did this job only for the money. He didn’t know and didn’t care who the benefactor was.”

The team was well aware of Sterling’s ability to glean information from inanimate objects, and Dixon was no exception. He brushed his fingertips against the fabric of the bag. “We’ll need to find out who hired him. I’ll make sure the Director of Homeland Security has access to these findings, including the fact the man was a vampire.”

“We’ll provide what information we can from the tech pieces,” Raymond offered. “Now that we’ve killed the forger, they’ll know that immortals are behind it. Humans couldn’t have dispatched him so easily. If the leader is also a vampire, they’ll be taking their game up a notch when this vampire fails to show up with the passes. We’ll have to be more careful.”

Dixon nodded. “Right.” He shifted in his seat and drained his beer.

Raymond observed his old friend carefully. “So what’s bugging you tonight? I can feel your thought patterns, and I can tell it’s not good.”

“Yeah, I’ve wanted to talk with you boys about something for a while now.” Dixon took a deep breath. “I’m going to retire. I’ve pushed off retirement as much as I could, but the years are getting to me now. It’s time to hand the reigns over to the next Director for you boys.”

The men at the table were deadly quiet now as they studied Dixon’s face and took a good look at the man they had known for decades. “Are you sure?” Raymond asked. “I mean, we’ve had a lot of Directors in the past, but we see you as part of our team. Are you really that old?”

“You know my age, Raymond. I’m not old, but I’m also not young anymore,” he sighed. His face suddenly appeared more aged to Raymond.

Only the President and a handful of people knew about the COLONY and its immortal vampires who worked for the federal government. Once you left the inner circle your memories were erased. Raymond had performed the memory wipe many times and it was always complete, decisive, and permanent.

“Look. I’ve been reviewing possible candidates and I think I’ve found the perfect replacement. Raymond, I’d like for the two of you to meet so I can see what you think of the Captain. How about this Friday at 8 a.m.?”

“Whatever you need,” Raymond agreed. He suspected Dixon wanted to talk more but the late hour wasn’t affording them that opportunity. With the unspoken language that most old friends seem to have, Raymond looked over at Dixon, tilted his head slightly, and lifted an eyebrow.

Raymond was happy the message was received. Dixon nodded, “Let’s put everything in motion, just like we talked about.” The exchange wasn’t noticed by the other team members and the response was cryptic enough so that only Raymond understood.

“Does anyone want more to drink? I’m buying.” Dixon pulled out his phone to transfer money to an account the bar owner kept.

“No. Go home, Dixon. It’s late and it looks like we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” Raymond smiled at his friend as he watched him pick up the backpack and start to leave. “I hope you’re happy with your decision.”

Dixon completed the money transaction and put the phone back in his pocket. He then pulled a worn key off his key ring and placed it on the table. “Make sure to lock up.” He stood up from the table and walked out.

“Now that was a shocker.” Ben said, as he slid the key over to Raymond. “But, if you two will excuse me, there’s a lovely lady I stood up this evening, and I plan on making it up to her tonight”

“Ben,” Raymond touched his friend’s arm, “if you’re talking about the secretary from this afternoon, did you notice the ring on her finger?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t seem to be a fanatic about it. Plus her husband is out of town. See you later.”

Overall, it wasn’t any of his business, but it still bothered Raymond that the secretary was a married woman. His empty bottle indicated it was time to go.

Sterling finished his drink and walked out with his father. As Raymond locked up, Sterling announced, “See ya at home tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” Raymond asked.

“I have a date,” he said, hopping into his red Ferrari.

Raymond tried to bite his tongue, but failed as usual. “With whom?”

Sterling cocked an eyebrow and a devilish smirk appeared on his face. “I don’t know yet.”

Raymond had to collect himself once again as he dealt with his only child. “Sterling, I don’t know why you insist on this reckless lifestyle of dating any human that crosses your path. I can’t say anything to Ben since he isn’t my son, but it really bothers me when you do it. We have blood at home so there’s no reason to go looking for it.”

“Maybe it’s not the blood I’m after.”

“Yeah. I know.” He shook his head. “A wife would be …”

Sterling cut off his father. “We’re not having this conversation again, Dad.”

Raymond raked his hand through his dark, thick hair. “I just don’t understand.”

Anger flashed across Sterling’s face. “Because unlike you, I don’t like to sleep alone.” He then drove off, his license plate, ‘LOVR4U’, fading into the distance.

*******

Alex Brennan entered her therapist’s office and folded her long, lean body into her usual spot on the couch. Vanilla fragrance hung in the air from the candle on the window sill and assaulted her nostrils, leaving a sick feeling in her stomach. She hated the smell of vanilla since it always reminded her of this room. For a distraction she mentally reviewed her long list of things to do that seemed to never get done. A dentist appointment topped that list. Sighing, she thought how much nicer it would be to be getting a cleaning right now. Checking her watch, she realized she was early for the session. Damn. She hated therapy and definitely didn’t want to appear eager for it.

She stared at the spot on the wall where the calendar charted time. She had seen three different calendars hanging there over the years and would prefer not to see a fourth one. She glanced at her watch and readied herself to hit the stopwatch feature. She was paying for 50 minutes of therapy, and she always made sure she got her full time.

Dr. Micki O’Neil entered and closed the door. Alex appreciated that Micki always arrived right on time. She dressed in her usual button down blouse and slacks at every one of these sessions, and it pleased Alex that Micki was a civilian therapist and didn’t wear a military uniform. She suspected that she opened up more to the doctor when she thought of her as perhaps just an old friend, rather than a military officer. Micki sat in a chair adjacent to the couch. Overall, everything from the wing backed chairs, the paisley pillows with tassels, on down to the throw rug on the floor was designed to give one a sense of calm in this room. Perhaps it did work for many people, but Alex’s anxiety–wrung hands told a different story.

“Good Morning, Alex. Happy belated birthday.”

Alex’s eyebrow rose questioningly, but she composed herself quickly. She had given the therapist a fake birthday due to security reasons, but had forgotten until this very moment. Her birthday was actually weeks ago. She smiled at the woman and said, “Thanks, Micki. My birthday was earlier this week.”

Micki pulled out a pen. “What number was it this year?”

“Thirty–eight.” It was really thirty–nine.

Micki smiled at her attractive, well put–together client. “Well, you look much younger – probably due to all the workout and training you do.”

Alex felt her cheeks flush as she flashed a smile. She brushed her shoulder length auburn hair behind her ears. “Thanks Micki. And thanks again for meeting me so early this morning.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” Micki smiled. “Last week when we met you were a bit anxious about your age and the passing of time in general. How was your birthday?” Micki thumbed through the folder she kept with the details of the years of therapy she conducted with Alex.

Alex cleared her throat. She was always worried about getting older. She thought back to her actual birthday. “I’m slowly dying alone. I’m shriveling up and I’m lonely. So in every respect, my birthday was the same as all the other days, except it came with a Sara Lee individual, frozen, fat–free cake at the end of it.” Alex’s tone saddened as she played with her fingernails. She hung her head and avoided eye contact with Micki.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about the day itself,” Micki suggested as she moved the box of Kleenex closer to her client.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Alex said, settling deeper into the couch. “I’m getting older and the few men I do attract are immature boys.”

“Uh huh,” Micki studied her client’s folder, flipping back several pages. “Alex, try to remember how far you’ve come,” she said as she put down the folder and looked into Alex’s eyes. “Only a few years ago you were afraid to even go out on a date. Not only have you been going out, you have had several dates this past month alone.”

Alex glanced away. The increase of dates was directly proportionate to her birthday weeks ago. “I don’t think any of those guys count as real dates. In fact, one was more interested in my X–Box than he was in me, and believe me Micki, that isn’t a euphemism.”

Micki leaned in, “Alex, you chose to date those men. You said ‘yes’ to their invitations to dinners and movies, but then you told the one that wanted to have sex with you that you weren’t interested.”

Alex sighed and thought back to that moment. If she had eaten breakfast, it would be coming up about right now. Alex raised her voice in protest, “Look, I don’t want to settle. I want a real man.”

Micki nodded, “You’ve told me in the past what a ‘real man’ is to you, but I’d like for you to tell me again now that you’ve started to date again.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “I don’t know,” she asserted, but mentally she thought back to the man she had been dreaming about as of late. She couldn’t completely make out all of his features, but the name Adonis came to mind. Her heart rate sped up just thinking about him and his dark hair, but she repeated, “I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Somewhere deep inside, you do know. And you also know why you went out on dates with those men as well.”

Alex crossed her arms and looked away from Micki, “I don’t want to talk about dating.”

“All right, we can postpone that discussion for a few minutes. However, we will have to address it. I can’t help you unless you’re open and honest with me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. We can come back to that later.” Micki picked up the folder and flipped through more pages. “Looks like over the last few years your career has taken off. You had two promotions … and now you’re up for another one. If you get it, it will make you… ?”

“‘Security Chief’ is the unofficial title,” Alex said, giving the woman an ambiguous job description. If she did accept the promotion, she couldn’t afford to allow a therapist to know exactly what she would be doing. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the woman, she just didn’t know her more than their therapy sessions. And even then, any personal information shared could be open to future blackmail. Even after all this time, Micki never even knew Alex’s real last name – and she always paid in cash. “I’d be responsible for the security teams that guard state officials,” she added, not wanting to mention that the state official would be the President of the United States. “It’s a good career move, even if it does sound like a mountain of paperwork.”