Man is Evil, Man is Good (5/?)
Title: Man is Evil, Man is Good (5/?)
Author: Christmas Pterodactyl
Rating: R/Mature for large amounts violence and implied sexual situations.
Word count: Part 5: 5,967 words
Disclaimer: The author makes no claims of ownership to any material that may be recognized by the public.
Spoilers: Up to and including 3x05: Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps
Summary: Escalation.
Notes: Groundwork, groundwork, groundwork. It’s all I seem to ever do. But oh does it help. More work stoppage due to more illness. Let it be noted that sometimes the flu shot works…and sometimes it misses. It missed again. Oh hey, look, it’s me playing author again. Funny that. (Split personality disorder not included.)
Previously: Part 1a Part 1b Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
“She’s not coming back, is she?” Abed was staring straight ahead at the third episode in season fifteen of Inspector Spacetime on the television, waiting for an answer to his question from Jeff. Troy was absent this evening, on a date with Britta, who despised the term but had been almost giddy with anticipation for the event.
He was pacing the apartment, avoiding the fan on each pass. It was two weeks now with no word from her and it was tearing his insides to pieces. He couldn’t sleep and barely ate, couldn’t watch TV or pay attention in classes. When he wasn’t in class, eyes glazed over with disinterest, he was lifting weights and running. It was unhealthy with such a minimal amount of nourishment . He knew it was unhealthy. But the exercise prevented him from thinking too hard about her.
He missed the mix of Elisabeta’s seductiveness with the innocence of Annie. Elisabeta was worldly and forceful. Annie was delicate and sly. Both were determined, both were intelligent. And both were conflicted and wounded.
“I don’t know buddy. I might have fucked this one up. Big time.” He was scared; for him, for her, for their friends. This was beyond the Greendale weird he’d become accustomed to. Beyond anything he’d ever encountered. And it all stemmed from a young brunette with mesmerizing eyes and aa positive outlook on a world that had tried to destroy her.
“She’ll come back. Her storyline isn’t over. The lead has to make a grand gesture. Have you thought about flowers and a mariachi band?”
“Who says I’m the lead?”
Abed looked up from his show and pierced Jeff with a stare and a raised eyebrow. “I think we can safely assume who is who after three years.”
“You? Assume?”
“I’m saying that for your benefit.” Jeff snorted, and not paying attention, hit his head on the fan. Wincing in pain and putting a hand to his aching forehead, he sat down next to Abed. By then, Abed was once more absorbed in his show; and Jeff was now hurt both physically and emotionally.
“Can you please take that damn fan down?”
“Landlord said we couldn’t. He’s evil.”
Jeff’s brow crinkled. “He’s evil?”
“He dressed as the Joker for Halloween.” Winger snorted, he knew Abed was obsessed with batman, but sometimes it was a little excessive.
“I said I could protect myself.” He looked at the younger man. “I told her that I’m not who she thinks I am and that I can take of myself. She has this weird idea that I can’t. Relationships are a two way street, right? Fifty fifty down the middle. We’re supposed to trust each other?”
“Hypothetically yes.”
“She thought I couldn’t contribute. I’m not a pretty face…well, attractive and handsome, yes.”
“Hm.”
“These arms, this body,” He flexed his muscles, “it isn’t for show.”
“Allow me to use sarcasm for a moment. The bully in the first year.”
“That was a fluke.”
“His backup.” He was ticking his opponents off with each finger.
“Lucky he had some.”
“Annie, twice. And Buddy. You’re not a fighter, despite what I thought when you were defending my honor. You bluster, you connive, you convince, but you don’t act physically. You’re charismatic Jeff, but your Inspector Spacetime, you’re not Constable Reggie.”
“Inspector who?”
“Spacetime.”
“Then tell me what to do Abed.” Jeff slumped into the chair that Troy normally occupied.
“You’re the master at this kind of stuff.”
Abed paused his show and turned to Jeff. “This has something to do with the people appearing randomly on campus watching us, doesn’t it? Those people have guns Jeff.”
“You saw guns?” Again, Abed raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
“This isn’t a schoolyard bully, those people are playing for keeps.”
“It’s me they’re after.”
“It’s Annie too. What did you two do?”
He couldn’t say anything. She may have kicked him out of her life, but he damn well was going to keep her secret. “I…I can’t say buddy.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I made a promise.” Abed nodded once.
“That’s all I needed to hear. You’re the only one who knows what to do. Remember, I’m Yoda.”
“And I’m Han Solo.”
“They never shared screen time, but they were interconnected. You know what you have to do.”
Jeff rose from his chair, and put a hand on Abed’s shoulder. “Thanks. For everything. I don’t say it enough, but you’re all right.”
“Just so I know, and I probably do, what are you going to do?”
“Find her, help her, and tell her how I feel.”
Jeff nodded and walked out of the small apartment.
______
Hi! This is Annie! Leave me a message and I’ll call you right back!
He loves you Annie. You should give him a chance. I’ll watch the group, while you two take care of whatever it is you need to do. Protect each other, because he’s about to be an idiot.
Elisabeta listened to the latest message from Abed. She couldn’t help but smile. She was mad, angered by Jeff’s inability to take a hint, but it still made her smile.
______
Jeff had actually stayed past dusk on the campus of Greendale of his own will on rare occasions. Between conspiracy theories, Halloween parties, dances (his mind was still boggled by them), and paintball, his life was becoming more and more consumed by the community college. But tonight, he wanted something from Greendale besides a substandard education to get his law license back. Tonight, he wanted it to provide the appropriate venue for a supposedly unsuspecting bait.
He’d taken her advice, and was even more surprised that the sparse Greendale Community College library had a copy of anything by Steven Vincent Benet, and he had to admit that Daniel Webster was a slick son of a bitch. If a man could go up against the Devil with a fixed jury and still win, he had to be impressed. He had a few pages left. Old Scratch was predicting Webster’s future, and despite it being bleak, at least he wasn’t going to be disbarred. Annie would be proud of him, reading on his own initiative. But Annie…no, Elisabeta also said she wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
It was 2AM. And his brain was screaming and telling him what a fuck-up he was for putting himself out in the open like this. But he wanted to be with the enigmatic woman who over the past few years had drawn herself into his life and him into hers.
The first indication something was amiss was the sound of heavy footsteps. He’d been straining to hear anything, and this was it. He didn’t look up towards the approaching predator, didn’t show any emotion, and stuffed the fear into the back of his mind.
“Jeffrey Winger.” The voice was familiar, but the presence of the man it belonged to was bewildering. Opening the door, the predator clasped his hands behind his back and ambled towards the tall man.
“Do I even want what you’re doing here?”
“Oh I think you know why I’m here. I was just finishing some things up in the other building when I saw you sitting in here from outside. Big test coming up?”
He grunted. “Of all the people in the world, wouldn’t you be the first to know if we had something?”
“Well, you’re right. I’m just so busy lately, that I’ve totally lost track of the time.” The man opened his arms. “A man in my position, well, I’m always busy. It’s why I have assistants for this kind of thing.” He leaned over Pierce’s chair and smiled a sly smile.
“Well…guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“Maybe sooner? I figured you’d enjoy some company.” He looked around the room. “Anyone else from your little group here?”
“No. Just me.” Jeff’s hand went towards his hip, grabbing the newly bought tazer and pointing it at the enemy. “I know this is a bit cliché, but I’d love to hear that evil plan of yours.” The predator let out a booming laugh then raised his own gun just as quickly, surprising his adversary.
“I’ve always enjoyed a good cliché. So, I’m going to let you know how this is going to go down. You’re going to put your little toy down, and we’re going to the airpoirt.”
Jeff fingered the trigger, knowing the electrodes and wires would make the distance across the table. He could take the shot, there was no real emotional attachment to the man in front of him, and a plan was starting to form in his mind. Shoot the man, truss him up, and get some answers.
His hesitation cost him. He heard the CO2 hiss, and Jeff felt the sting in his neck. He tried to stand from his chair, and nearly fell without propping himself up with the table. He’d drop the only thing he could use to defend himself, the stun gun clattering to the thinly carpeted floor. Jeff’s hand went to his neck, and felt the feathery tail of the dart he was now pulling out of his neck. Looking to the dart, then to his assailant, his eyes rolled voluntarily at the unfairness of the situation.
“Oh come on!” His vision was hazy and blurry. Jeff could hear the boisterous laughter of the man as he dropped to his knees, nearly hitting his chin on the corner of the table. And now his eyes rolled involuntarily as the narcotic took effect. And Jeff lost consciousness.
Again.
______
We have him.
It should draw her out of hiding. I’m sending my men to your location.
Are we really sure we want to trifle with this woman? You and I both know what will happen if she gets a hold of us.
Just make sure he doesn’t escape or hurt himself. I want him fully intact.
And the rest of the group?
I am not without mercy, far more than she ever gave. You will leave them be for now.
You promised me-
I know what I promised. You’ll have what you want.
______
Elisabeta was still on her computer when the cell phone rang next to her. She’d been waiting for this call. She needed to tell Jeff to leave her alone. It was killing her, because being with him made her much happier than she had been in the last five centuries. He made her feel alive, and she felt whole once more. Perhaps this was a sign for her to start a new life, and the need for penance felt complete for the first time in her life.
He was right though, she wanted him to be Janos; she’d pined for her husband, long dead for ages. And Jeff was right, he wasn’t Janos, he was Jeff Winger: a repentant amoral lawyer who was learning actual humility. But under the layer of unpleasantness lie a heart of gold. He cared, but with so many years of mental abuse, he’d walled it up. Jeff had shut down those feelings and emotions. It was a familiar feeling. She in essence had done the same so many years before.
So, for the first time in weeks, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
It’s so good to put a voice to a face, Ms. Edison. The voice was distorted, she hated when people did this, trying to be ever so clever and anonymous; she already had a trace program at her workstation running. It’d take ten seconds.
“In the past, I have attempted to please. Would you educate me on why you have Mr. Winger’s phone?”
He let me borrow it. Mr. Winger is such a generous individual.
“Indeed. May I speak with him?”
He’s unable to speak with you at the moment. Would you like to give him a message? Her trace was complete. The movies always let the drama play out. In reality, it never took long to attain information like location. If you knew the right people, and had the right coin, you can do anything.
“Why yes. Please tell him that I’ll pick him up at approximately 7:38PM on the December 4th.”
You sound rather certain in your intent.
“Just give him the message. Now, is there anything else you want, because I really don’t have the time to banter with idiots.”
Oh but that’s the fun part, the banter. It’s what separates us from the common man. To think: two opponents across the centuries finally connecting with each other, it makes me giddy.
“God you’re melodramatic.” Elisabeta’s rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the voice.
You don’t like it? Perhaps I should just speak clearly.
“By all means.”
If you want your boyfriend alive, you’ll surrender yourself to us. In exchange, we promise to free Winger. You may find us at the location you traced us to.
“I want proof of life.” She heard a tone, and pulled up the streaming video onto one of the screens. He chained to a metal pole, blindfolded and bound. He was ‘looking’ straight at the camera.
Say something Winger.
Annie, don’t come. It’s a trap. His voice was monotone and dripping with sarcasm. She couldn’t help but smile. Only Jeff Winger would turn a situation like this into a joke. She strained not to laugh. Then he nodded at the camera and smirked when the image froze.
Was that enough.
“Yes. I assume you’ve made the appropriate arrangements?”
We are ready to execute you for crimes against humanity.
“Oh, goody. Mind if I ask how many of you there are?”
“Enough to stop you. Why?”
”I want to know how many body bags I’ll be buying for the various John and Jane Doe’s I’ll be killing.”
Now who is providing the witty repartee and predictions.
“That wasn’t a prediction.” The sly smile crossed her face. “Hurt him, and I’ll make your death slow. Keep him alive and in excellent health, and I’ll make it quick.”
The caller hung up.
Now it was time to make a house call.
______
“Annie!”
“Hey Abed.” She stepped into his apartment, immediately confronted with a low hanging sheet. “New blanket fort?”
“Yeah, Troy and Britta went to get more sheets.”
The woman couldn’t help but smile. “I miss this.” He led her into New Fluffy Town, past the Raider’s model, and into a form of common room. Abed let Elisabeta find a spot to settle in then grabbed a bowl of popcorn for them to share.
“You should have brought Jeff. We could still call Shirley and Pierce.”
“I really wish I could stay, but I have to leave town for a few days.”
“Chicago?”
She was taken aback. “Yeah…how did you know?”
“It’s the nearest place for a dramatic finale to your story. I assume Jeff is their prisoner?” She nodded. “I thought so. The role reversal is a clever twist. Not entirely unpredictable, but it makes for more comedic moments. What can I do to help?” Shaking her head, she remembered that Abed always knew more than he let on. He had figured out her secret during the summer between first and second year. It’d come as a shock, but a secret friendship had been formed amongst the two.
“I need you to take everyone to my home in the mountains. Seal the doors, and wait for my call.”
Abed Nadir blinked at her owlishly. “Lockdown?”
“Lockdown. Just like we discussed.” There was a glimmer in his eye that she enjoyed seeing. The world was a giant adventure to the young man, and that she could provide him an outlet for his fantasies was a privilege.
“Can I coordinate from your work station?”
She smiled. “I would very much like that.”
“Cool…cool cool cool.”
Annie kissed him on the cheek. “That’s why I love you Abed.”
“But not like Jeff.”
“Luke and Leia?”
Abed gave her a ghost of a smile. “The kiss did feel strange. Like I was kissing a sister. Just watch out for ewoks.” She giggled and gave him a hug. “Bring him home Annie.”
______
“Mr. Winger.” He’d just fallen asleep when the distorted voice woke him. Jeff had been moved from the ostentatious metal pole in the middle of a locked room to a more accommodating steel cell. He was fed some sort of gruel with honey, and left locked up for most of the day. Shuffling on the mounted cot, he turned his back away from the wall, shielding himself from whatever may assault him. He was silent, putting the small pillow over his head to block out the voice.
“Mr. Winger.” It said again, only louder.
“I’m trying to sleep.” He grumbled under the pillow.
“Sleep is counterproductive.”
Jeff threw the pillow at the far wall, and then sat up on the cot. “So what do you want!”
“We want you to be comfortable, Mr. Winger.”
“Then let me sleep!” Winger scoffed at the idiocy of the situation.
“Is there anything we can do to make your stay more convenient?”
“Letting me go would be a good start.” There was little in the convenience, save for the mounted cot and toilet in the corner. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d need to use it without some sort of embarrassment. He felt dirty, having no way to take a shower or cleanse his skin.
The door to his cell opened. “And you are free to leave.” A look of bewilderment crossed his face. “Please, Mr. Winger. We won’t hold you against your will.” He tentatively stood up and inched towards the door. Upon reaching the threshold though, the door slammed shut. “We do need something from you though.”
“Fuckers.”
“No need for such language.”
“Ya know what, there is. You have not right to hold me here. If you want something, just say it.”
“We want Annie Edison. You provide her, we will let you go.”
“Fuck you.”
“Temper temper.”
“Jag-offs.”
“Why do you love her?”
Jeff looked up at the ceiling finding no visible cameras or speakers, unsure how they were watching him or where the voice was coming from. “What’s it to you?”
“How can you love someone with so much blood on her hands? It’s a simple question.” Shrugging his shoulders Winger found it odd he wasn’t talking to someone, per se.
“You provide evidence, and I’ll decide.”
“She destroyed thousands of lives over the years. Surely you see that she is a threat.”
“Maybe she had a reason.”
“You’re a bright man Jeff, why would anyone murder people? What reason would they have?”
“Self defense and retributive justice.”
“Yet Ms. Edison could have disabled instead of killed in the parking lot that night. And the slaughter of whole villages.”
“Look, I’m not going to argue intent. You send people to harm others, you have no knowledge of intention; whatever the reason they attack, a person has the right to defend themselves. If they’re the offending party, their rights go right out the window. I know for God damn sure she didn’t slaughter villages.” He was lying through his teeth on that last part.
“You sound so sure of yourself. Didn’t she tell you of her home village? ”
“14th Century history or law is not my concern”
“And so the victims of that massacre have no rights?”
“Whatever she did, she has paid her dues-”
“Wrong! That monster will never know the pain she caused to those families. Her acts are unforgiveable” Jeff did one of the stupidest things he had done in a long time. He punched the wall. And Winger regretted it immediately when the pain shot through his arm.
“Said acts are justifiable under…what the hell am I doing. You want to argue this? Come talk to me in person, face to face. Because you can’t bullshit me. I did that for a living, I’m a master.”
The distorted voice was laughing at him. “You’re blind to the truth Winger.”
“And you’re a hackneyed villain who has no concept of reality. Seriously, who uses kidnapping? Too many cartoons as a kid? Too many B-movie flicks? Where’s the originality.”
“You want to meet me face-to-face?”
“Bring it.”
The door opened, and Jeff wasn’t completely surprised.
______
She hated flying. Call it the fact she was so used to using conventional means by ground or sea over the last several hundred years. Elisabeta felt that sometimes technology advanced far more quickly than what human beings were ready for and flying was one such advancement. She loved her private rail car, and she missed using it. Yet on rare occasions, when flying was necessary, having large amounts of stock in certain companies came with a few perks. The leer jet was an amusing creature in her eyes; yes, they were faster than a railcar, but they were more expensive than her own home. They were a travesty to all that was beautiful about travel.
There was never enough time, she thought to herself, to sit back and enjoy travel. She would have to trick the group into a rail trip this summer. Elisabeta couldn’t help but smile when Britta would huff at the idea of luxury, when Abed and Troy did their special clapshake (her term, she’d have to discuss it with them); Pierce would have his own private car, complete with cognac and cigars, Shirley and he kids would enjoy the trip. But Jeff she was unsure of anymore. Her feelings towards him were stronger than ever before. She cried herself to sleep on several nights, pining for the physical and emotional contact they had shared. In one room of her home, she’d had memorabilia from her many adventures and travels over the years; the debate certificate, a paintball gun, a purple pen and other mementoes of Greendale had been given their own glass case. Each and every one of these items was a reminder of what she’d recently gotten back.
The vampiress adjusted the coat of her trouser suit, and mussed with her hair briefly. She hated these things, and she missed the comfort of her floral prints or the pencil skirt. Modernity was a constant in her life, and she had seen clothing…no, humanity evolve into something completely different through globalization. On several occasions, she longed for a simpler time with simpler clothing.
Her reverie was interrupted by a soft tone and a green seatbelt light lighting up. Taking her seat and buckling her belt she watched as the wing to her right dipped, and the plane started its descent. Elisabeta thought more and more about the upcoming confrontation, and her research was leading to a conclusion she was not pleased with. If it was the offshoot of Marga and Radu, she’d be facing several people with misconstrued ideals. The descendants of the betrayers would have passed down a falsehood that made her a literal monster and them a pious couple doing what was right. There was no amount of convincing that would change their minds. And she loathed the actions she would taking within the next two days.
The jet touched down smoothly. She would be tipping these pilots handsomely for their services and skill. If there was one thing that was constant in her life, it was to support excellent behavior. It worked in education, it worked in business, and it worked in her personal life. It was taxied to a private hanger, the pilots placed on standby; and the upon exiting the plane, she felt the chill air of the Windy City.
“Ms. Barnes, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Elisabeta was approached by a slim, middle-aged black man in a shirt and tie.
“Mr. Jacobs. The pleasure is mine. When Martin told me you were my contact, I couldn’t help but remember your father. How is he?”
Jacobs closed his eyes and shook his head. “We lost him a year ago. But he passed peacefully. Our family owes you a great debt for taking care of him in his later years.” Elisabeta gave a silent approval, and Jacobs closed the distance and hugged the shorter woman. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back.
“Jack, I understand completely. Your father was a good man, and I owe him several times over. It was the least I could do. What we went through…was a nightmare that wouldn’t wish on my enemies.” She sighed, the memories of her last visit to Eastern Europe and the horrors she had witnessed and perpetrated.
He led her to the car in silence. “Dad told me a few years back about the…special situation you find yourself in.”
“Did he?” She stepped into the back followed by him. The driver nodded and slowly made his way to guard post than onto Interstate 190.
“He made me promise that whenever you needed help, our family would be here for you.” The woman closed her eyes and smiled a sad smile. “He talked about the woman who saved his life once or twice when I was a kid. Never gave details until last year. We just always assumed your parents were family friends.”
“My friend Abed would say ‘from a certain point of view. My condolences Jack, he was a great man who made a difference.” Jacobs nodded in appreciation. Pulling a case up, he unlocked the lid and opened it. “I remember that…”
“He said you gave it to him. During the War, in Romania.” He passed the case to her. The hand gun gleamed despite its age. She couldn’t help the tear that fell. She touched the grip, ran a finger along the slide and barrel. She remembered everything about that horrible day when she let loose with reckless abandon. Elisabeta regretted nothing that day.
“I don’t know if you know the history of this weapon. The Nazis, on occasion, would take these off POWs. This was an American soldier’s weapon. When I found it, I gave it to him as we escaped the prison camp. It was only right for it to be returned to an American solider.”
“He wanted you to have it in case something like this came up. You’ll need it, for what you’re going to do.”
Elisabeta nodded. “I will return this to your family when I’m done.”
“We know you will.”
______
The vampiress couldn’t help but laugh at the structure in front of her. The abandoned warehouse on the waterfront of Lake Michigan was too cliché even for her. Elisabeta pulled the goggles down over her head and counted again, writing a number on the pad of paper next to her for each individual.
“Tell me about this place.”
”Built in 1938, used by a shipping concern until 1982 when the business went bankrupt. Bought in 2005 by a shell company in the Seychelles; remodeled by Sterlings and Gould in 2009. Power, water, and gas paid in full each month.”
“Anything suspicious Abed?”
“Annie, I’ve only had two hours with this setup.”
“I have faith in you Abed.”
”…Records show there are two land lines into the building, as well as an old T/1 line and newer fiber optic line. Data use is minimal.” She heard typing in the background. ”Did you count how many guards?”
“Sending them now.” Abed, to her amusement took to the workstation setup quickly. With a year of practice, she could use him as a consultant and probably start a small freelance intelligence agency. The young man was naturally intuitive, and the CIA would kill to have him. But Elisabeta also knew that would kill him and his creativity.
”Pierce wants another bottle of cognac.”
“Bottom right hand cupboard. We won’t know how many people are in that building, will we.”
”No, unless you have a spy satellite in the sky, which would be really cool. Troy wants to know what we’re doing.”
She pulled the goggles up and turned on a receiver. Within seconds, she heard voices relaying orders. “Tell Troy that he and Britta should go for a swim by the waterfall.” There was a muffled voice on the other end of the connection, and Elisabeta couldn’t help by chuckle. Troy’s burgeoning relationship with Brtta was a joyful occasion as well as hilarious. In complete contradiction to both of their normal “types,” over the last month they had gotten closer. Her friends deserved their happiness, and she assured herself that she’d make it happen. Closing her eyes momentarily, she reset her focus and starting counting again. “Abed, I’m sending some numbers your way; can you find a patrol pattern?”
”If I was there, I could tell you a lot more.”
“Abed, I’ve had a camera attached to these goggles the whole time. Haven’t you been watching?” There was silence on the line.
”I could tell you a lot more, I could tell you a lot more, I could, I could-”
She should be livid, but she wasn’t. She shook her head in exasperation; the vampiress knew he was deflecting. “Don’t even think of trying that with me. Turn on the recording and see what you can find. I’m going get a different angle.”
Elisabeta knew how to travel light. The kumpania had taught her centuries ago, and her more recent experience of backpacking the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains during the American Civil War. Traveling behind Axis lines required true scavenging skills, making any surplus equipment a godsend. The portable transceiver, the reinforced pad computer, night goggles, and a small medical kit were easily carried in leather satchel. The 1911 Colt was uncomfortable, (as a personal rule, she hated and never used firearms), but the holster was attached to her belt, and if Jeff needed a weapon she hoped he’d be able to shoot a gun properly.
”North Entrance.”
“Pardon?” The voice in her ear took her out of her reverie.
“It’s the best place to enter. The street lamps are-”
“I trust you. Abed, I’m moving up the time table.”
”…why?
“Gut feeling.”
”I can’t stop you. Just be careful.”
She pulled the goggles off her head, and turned them around. Her face was streaming life, and Abed was watching. She knew he was watching her. Knowing Abed, he’d use this as stock footage.
“Abed, I’m going offline now. If I don’t come back, and there is a remote chance, I need you to open the safe in my office.”
”We can come rescue you, you know.”
“The vault door is time locked for three days. Please, don’t fight me on this.”
There was silence, and then a deflated voice. ”Bring him home Annie.” Elisabeta could hear the younger man’s genuine worry as she cut the communications feed. The woman knew that a thousand miles away, her friends were oblivious to what was happening.
She prayed that held true.
______
Years of training kicked into gear; her awareness expanded, her muscles flexed, her mind focused to preternatural crystal clarity. It was time once more to become the Blood Countess, and to her surprise there was some elation in the forthcoming activities of the evening. When her heightened abilities were unleashed, she could feel the twinge of her hunger. Elisabeta at one occasion wondered if she was becoming more and more animal when her “powers” were at full strength. That instance she had laughed the thought off, yet another time she scared herself into a prolonged anxiety attack which almost landed her in a mental ward.
She had learned long ago that theatrics went a long way towards intimidating the human mind. Presenting an anonymous façade provided her a psychological edge against her enemies, and she relished the fear it produced. The blood red tear drop under the left eye of the volto mask made it all the more dramatic. Her costume had also been modernized over the centuries; she’d added a duster that billowed like the riding cape she wore long ago, and instead of the long lost wedding robes, she now wore a skintight body suit turning her vampiric bride to succubus assassin. Elisabeta mused that she pulled the look off better than that Underworld trollop with the added bonus of having come up with the idea decades before the movies. She’d shown Abed, who cocked his head and said what she thought was his trademark line of “cool cool cool.” The final component of her “costume” was the sheath on her back for her husband’s falx. The wooden handle, longer the double-sided curved blade itself has been used with brutal efficiency over the centuries, along with the short sword at her side.
Abed was correct about the northern approach. She stayed to the shadows, the midnight blue of the duster helping her blend in but the bone white face still visible in the dark of the night. The visage was enough to spook a hobo stumbling through the alley way, wherein he promptly dropped an empty bottle and ran off in a panic (Elisabeta couldn’t help but smile).
The door to the warehouse was left mostly unguarded, save for a sentry that patrolled every fourteen minutes. She looked for cameras over the door, she look for any kind of alarm system. Abed had been thorough, but she needed to double and triple check.
The guard strolled by the woman, as if on cue, whistling an improvised tune and twirling the large key ring. It was too stereotypical for her when her eyes glanced at the belt. He had a sidearm, which never bode well, as well as a heavy flash light. They were armed and ready for anything may happen on their appointed rounds. Smaller caliber bullets never stopped Elisabetta, she’d learned enough first aid in the war to patch herself up and the added benefit of an accelerated healing ability could fix any minor injury. But the stun guns the thugs were using were worrisome. The idea of losing muscle control so quickly frightened her. Instincts honed over the course of several lifetimes told her if she stopped moving, she was dead. And if there was thing she shared with her Annie persona, was the loss of control could cause a problem.
She was in the shadows, her ears picking up the sound of every footstep and every breath. He was within five feet of her when she lunged at the man, spinning themselves around and slamming him hard against the wall. There was a loud thunk as his head hit the bricks of the building, and the sentry slumped down. Elisabeta checked his pulse then noticed the zip tie cuffs. She couldn’t get this lucky, and she wasn’t going to complain. Grabbing a handful and stuffing them in the satchel, she restrained the man and put him in the dumpster to hide her approach. Finished with the lookout she examined the door, looking at the lock, searching for a keypad; it was dead bolted, but that never stopped her. Two small paper clips bent into the right shapes helped deal with the lock, and she quickly slipped into warehouse portion of the building.
Taking refuge behind a pallet full of boxes, she closed her eyes and perked up her hearing once again. There were muffled voices in the background: several men, a few women, and at least one radio playing some no-name one hit wonder.
This was going to be harder than she thought. She never claimed to have sonar, but she could always picture the general whereabouts of individuals in even a largely enclosed area with enough concentration.
“Hi Annie!” She felt the shock of electricity. Elisabeta cringed, the electricity coursing through her body and figuratively freezing her in place before she could turn towards her attacker. It took three seconds before she went limp, and unconscious a second later with a kick to the temple.
Author: Christmas Pterodactyl
Rating: R/Mature for large amounts violence and implied sexual situations.
Word count: Part 5: 5,967 words
Disclaimer: The author makes no claims of ownership to any material that may be recognized by the public.
Spoilers: Up to and including 3x05: Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps
Summary: Escalation.
Notes: Groundwork, groundwork, groundwork. It’s all I seem to ever do. But oh does it help. More work stoppage due to more illness. Let it be noted that sometimes the flu shot works…and sometimes it misses. It missed again. Oh hey, look, it’s me playing author again. Funny that. (Split personality disorder not included.)
Previously: Part 1a Part 1b Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
“She’s not coming back, is she?” Abed was staring straight ahead at the third episode in season fifteen of Inspector Spacetime on the television, waiting for an answer to his question from Jeff. Troy was absent this evening, on a date with Britta, who despised the term but had been almost giddy with anticipation for the event.
He was pacing the apartment, avoiding the fan on each pass. It was two weeks now with no word from her and it was tearing his insides to pieces. He couldn’t sleep and barely ate, couldn’t watch TV or pay attention in classes. When he wasn’t in class, eyes glazed over with disinterest, he was lifting weights and running. It was unhealthy with such a minimal amount of nourishment . He knew it was unhealthy. But the exercise prevented him from thinking too hard about her.
He missed the mix of Elisabeta’s seductiveness with the innocence of Annie. Elisabeta was worldly and forceful. Annie was delicate and sly. Both were determined, both were intelligent. And both were conflicted and wounded.
“I don’t know buddy. I might have fucked this one up. Big time.” He was scared; for him, for her, for their friends. This was beyond the Greendale weird he’d become accustomed to. Beyond anything he’d ever encountered. And it all stemmed from a young brunette with mesmerizing eyes and aa positive outlook on a world that had tried to destroy her.
“She’ll come back. Her storyline isn’t over. The lead has to make a grand gesture. Have you thought about flowers and a mariachi band?”
“Who says I’m the lead?”
Abed looked up from his show and pierced Jeff with a stare and a raised eyebrow. “I think we can safely assume who is who after three years.”
“You? Assume?”
“I’m saying that for your benefit.” Jeff snorted, and not paying attention, hit his head on the fan. Wincing in pain and putting a hand to his aching forehead, he sat down next to Abed. By then, Abed was once more absorbed in his show; and Jeff was now hurt both physically and emotionally.
“Can you please take that damn fan down?”
“Landlord said we couldn’t. He’s evil.”
Jeff’s brow crinkled. “He’s evil?”
“He dressed as the Joker for Halloween.” Winger snorted, he knew Abed was obsessed with batman, but sometimes it was a little excessive.
“I said I could protect myself.” He looked at the younger man. “I told her that I’m not who she thinks I am and that I can take of myself. She has this weird idea that I can’t. Relationships are a two way street, right? Fifty fifty down the middle. We’re supposed to trust each other?”
“Hypothetically yes.”
“She thought I couldn’t contribute. I’m not a pretty face…well, attractive and handsome, yes.”
“Hm.”
“These arms, this body,” He flexed his muscles, “it isn’t for show.”
“Allow me to use sarcasm for a moment. The bully in the first year.”
“That was a fluke.”
“His backup.” He was ticking his opponents off with each finger.
“Lucky he had some.”
“Annie, twice. And Buddy. You’re not a fighter, despite what I thought when you were defending my honor. You bluster, you connive, you convince, but you don’t act physically. You’re charismatic Jeff, but your Inspector Spacetime, you’re not Constable Reggie.”
“Inspector who?”
“Spacetime.”
“Then tell me what to do Abed.” Jeff slumped into the chair that Troy normally occupied.
“You’re the master at this kind of stuff.”
Abed paused his show and turned to Jeff. “This has something to do with the people appearing randomly on campus watching us, doesn’t it? Those people have guns Jeff.”
“You saw guns?” Again, Abed raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
“This isn’t a schoolyard bully, those people are playing for keeps.”
“It’s me they’re after.”
“It’s Annie too. What did you two do?”
He couldn’t say anything. She may have kicked him out of her life, but he damn well was going to keep her secret. “I…I can’t say buddy.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I made a promise.” Abed nodded once.
“That’s all I needed to hear. You’re the only one who knows what to do. Remember, I’m Yoda.”
“And I’m Han Solo.”
“They never shared screen time, but they were interconnected. You know what you have to do.”
Jeff rose from his chair, and put a hand on Abed’s shoulder. “Thanks. For everything. I don’t say it enough, but you’re all right.”
“Just so I know, and I probably do, what are you going to do?”
“Find her, help her, and tell her how I feel.”
Jeff nodded and walked out of the small apartment.
______
Hi! This is Annie! Leave me a message and I’ll call you right back!
He loves you Annie. You should give him a chance. I’ll watch the group, while you two take care of whatever it is you need to do. Protect each other, because he’s about to be an idiot.
Elisabeta listened to the latest message from Abed. She couldn’t help but smile. She was mad, angered by Jeff’s inability to take a hint, but it still made her smile.
______
Jeff had actually stayed past dusk on the campus of Greendale of his own will on rare occasions. Between conspiracy theories, Halloween parties, dances (his mind was still boggled by them), and paintball, his life was becoming more and more consumed by the community college. But tonight, he wanted something from Greendale besides a substandard education to get his law license back. Tonight, he wanted it to provide the appropriate venue for a supposedly unsuspecting bait.
He’d taken her advice, and was even more surprised that the sparse Greendale Community College library had a copy of anything by Steven Vincent Benet, and he had to admit that Daniel Webster was a slick son of a bitch. If a man could go up against the Devil with a fixed jury and still win, he had to be impressed. He had a few pages left. Old Scratch was predicting Webster’s future, and despite it being bleak, at least he wasn’t going to be disbarred. Annie would be proud of him, reading on his own initiative. But Annie…no, Elisabeta also said she wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
It was 2AM. And his brain was screaming and telling him what a fuck-up he was for putting himself out in the open like this. But he wanted to be with the enigmatic woman who over the past few years had drawn herself into his life and him into hers.
The first indication something was amiss was the sound of heavy footsteps. He’d been straining to hear anything, and this was it. He didn’t look up towards the approaching predator, didn’t show any emotion, and stuffed the fear into the back of his mind.
“Jeffrey Winger.” The voice was familiar, but the presence of the man it belonged to was bewildering. Opening the door, the predator clasped his hands behind his back and ambled towards the tall man.
“Do I even want what you’re doing here?”
“Oh I think you know why I’m here. I was just finishing some things up in the other building when I saw you sitting in here from outside. Big test coming up?”
He grunted. “Of all the people in the world, wouldn’t you be the first to know if we had something?”
“Well, you’re right. I’m just so busy lately, that I’ve totally lost track of the time.” The man opened his arms. “A man in my position, well, I’m always busy. It’s why I have assistants for this kind of thing.” He leaned over Pierce’s chair and smiled a sly smile.
“Well…guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“Maybe sooner? I figured you’d enjoy some company.” He looked around the room. “Anyone else from your little group here?”
“No. Just me.” Jeff’s hand went towards his hip, grabbing the newly bought tazer and pointing it at the enemy. “I know this is a bit cliché, but I’d love to hear that evil plan of yours.” The predator let out a booming laugh then raised his own gun just as quickly, surprising his adversary.
“I’ve always enjoyed a good cliché. So, I’m going to let you know how this is going to go down. You’re going to put your little toy down, and we’re going to the airpoirt.”
Jeff fingered the trigger, knowing the electrodes and wires would make the distance across the table. He could take the shot, there was no real emotional attachment to the man in front of him, and a plan was starting to form in his mind. Shoot the man, truss him up, and get some answers.
His hesitation cost him. He heard the CO2 hiss, and Jeff felt the sting in his neck. He tried to stand from his chair, and nearly fell without propping himself up with the table. He’d drop the only thing he could use to defend himself, the stun gun clattering to the thinly carpeted floor. Jeff’s hand went to his neck, and felt the feathery tail of the dart he was now pulling out of his neck. Looking to the dart, then to his assailant, his eyes rolled voluntarily at the unfairness of the situation.
“Oh come on!” His vision was hazy and blurry. Jeff could hear the boisterous laughter of the man as he dropped to his knees, nearly hitting his chin on the corner of the table. And now his eyes rolled involuntarily as the narcotic took effect. And Jeff lost consciousness.
Again.
______
We have him.
It should draw her out of hiding. I’m sending my men to your location.
Are we really sure we want to trifle with this woman? You and I both know what will happen if she gets a hold of us.
Just make sure he doesn’t escape or hurt himself. I want him fully intact.
And the rest of the group?
I am not without mercy, far more than she ever gave. You will leave them be for now.
You promised me-
I know what I promised. You’ll have what you want.
______
Elisabeta was still on her computer when the cell phone rang next to her. She’d been waiting for this call. She needed to tell Jeff to leave her alone. It was killing her, because being with him made her much happier than she had been in the last five centuries. He made her feel alive, and she felt whole once more. Perhaps this was a sign for her to start a new life, and the need for penance felt complete for the first time in her life.
He was right though, she wanted him to be Janos; she’d pined for her husband, long dead for ages. And Jeff was right, he wasn’t Janos, he was Jeff Winger: a repentant amoral lawyer who was learning actual humility. But under the layer of unpleasantness lie a heart of gold. He cared, but with so many years of mental abuse, he’d walled it up. Jeff had shut down those feelings and emotions. It was a familiar feeling. She in essence had done the same so many years before.
So, for the first time in weeks, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
It’s so good to put a voice to a face, Ms. Edison. The voice was distorted, she hated when people did this, trying to be ever so clever and anonymous; she already had a trace program at her workstation running. It’d take ten seconds.
“In the past, I have attempted to please. Would you educate me on why you have Mr. Winger’s phone?”
He let me borrow it. Mr. Winger is such a generous individual.
“Indeed. May I speak with him?”
He’s unable to speak with you at the moment. Would you like to give him a message? Her trace was complete. The movies always let the drama play out. In reality, it never took long to attain information like location. If you knew the right people, and had the right coin, you can do anything.
“Why yes. Please tell him that I’ll pick him up at approximately 7:38PM on the December 4th.”
You sound rather certain in your intent.
“Just give him the message. Now, is there anything else you want, because I really don’t have the time to banter with idiots.”
Oh but that’s the fun part, the banter. It’s what separates us from the common man. To think: two opponents across the centuries finally connecting with each other, it makes me giddy.
“God you’re melodramatic.” Elisabeta’s rolled her eyes, unimpressed with the voice.
You don’t like it? Perhaps I should just speak clearly.
“By all means.”
If you want your boyfriend alive, you’ll surrender yourself to us. In exchange, we promise to free Winger. You may find us at the location you traced us to.
“I want proof of life.” She heard a tone, and pulled up the streaming video onto one of the screens. He chained to a metal pole, blindfolded and bound. He was ‘looking’ straight at the camera.
Say something Winger.
Annie, don’t come. It’s a trap. His voice was monotone and dripping with sarcasm. She couldn’t help but smile. Only Jeff Winger would turn a situation like this into a joke. She strained not to laugh. Then he nodded at the camera and smirked when the image froze.
Was that enough.
“Yes. I assume you’ve made the appropriate arrangements?”
We are ready to execute you for crimes against humanity.
“Oh, goody. Mind if I ask how many of you there are?”
“Enough to stop you. Why?”
”I want to know how many body bags I’ll be buying for the various John and Jane Doe’s I’ll be killing.”
Now who is providing the witty repartee and predictions.
“That wasn’t a prediction.” The sly smile crossed her face. “Hurt him, and I’ll make your death slow. Keep him alive and in excellent health, and I’ll make it quick.”
The caller hung up.
Now it was time to make a house call.
______
“Annie!”
“Hey Abed.” She stepped into his apartment, immediately confronted with a low hanging sheet. “New blanket fort?”
“Yeah, Troy and Britta went to get more sheets.”
The woman couldn’t help but smile. “I miss this.” He led her into New Fluffy Town, past the Raider’s model, and into a form of common room. Abed let Elisabeta find a spot to settle in then grabbed a bowl of popcorn for them to share.
“You should have brought Jeff. We could still call Shirley and Pierce.”
“I really wish I could stay, but I have to leave town for a few days.”
“Chicago?”
She was taken aback. “Yeah…how did you know?”
“It’s the nearest place for a dramatic finale to your story. I assume Jeff is their prisoner?” She nodded. “I thought so. The role reversal is a clever twist. Not entirely unpredictable, but it makes for more comedic moments. What can I do to help?” Shaking her head, she remembered that Abed always knew more than he let on. He had figured out her secret during the summer between first and second year. It’d come as a shock, but a secret friendship had been formed amongst the two.
“I need you to take everyone to my home in the mountains. Seal the doors, and wait for my call.”
Abed Nadir blinked at her owlishly. “Lockdown?”
“Lockdown. Just like we discussed.” There was a glimmer in his eye that she enjoyed seeing. The world was a giant adventure to the young man, and that she could provide him an outlet for his fantasies was a privilege.
“Can I coordinate from your work station?”
She smiled. “I would very much like that.”
“Cool…cool cool cool.”
Annie kissed him on the cheek. “That’s why I love you Abed.”
“But not like Jeff.”
“Luke and Leia?”
Abed gave her a ghost of a smile. “The kiss did feel strange. Like I was kissing a sister. Just watch out for ewoks.” She giggled and gave him a hug. “Bring him home Annie.”
______
“Mr. Winger.” He’d just fallen asleep when the distorted voice woke him. Jeff had been moved from the ostentatious metal pole in the middle of a locked room to a more accommodating steel cell. He was fed some sort of gruel with honey, and left locked up for most of the day. Shuffling on the mounted cot, he turned his back away from the wall, shielding himself from whatever may assault him. He was silent, putting the small pillow over his head to block out the voice.
“Mr. Winger.” It said again, only louder.
“I’m trying to sleep.” He grumbled under the pillow.
“Sleep is counterproductive.”
Jeff threw the pillow at the far wall, and then sat up on the cot. “So what do you want!”
“We want you to be comfortable, Mr. Winger.”
“Then let me sleep!” Winger scoffed at the idiocy of the situation.
“Is there anything we can do to make your stay more convenient?”
“Letting me go would be a good start.” There was little in the convenience, save for the mounted cot and toilet in the corner. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d need to use it without some sort of embarrassment. He felt dirty, having no way to take a shower or cleanse his skin.
The door to his cell opened. “And you are free to leave.” A look of bewilderment crossed his face. “Please, Mr. Winger. We won’t hold you against your will.” He tentatively stood up and inched towards the door. Upon reaching the threshold though, the door slammed shut. “We do need something from you though.”
“Fuckers.”
“No need for such language.”
“Ya know what, there is. You have not right to hold me here. If you want something, just say it.”
“We want Annie Edison. You provide her, we will let you go.”
“Fuck you.”
“Temper temper.”
“Jag-offs.”
“Why do you love her?”
Jeff looked up at the ceiling finding no visible cameras or speakers, unsure how they were watching him or where the voice was coming from. “What’s it to you?”
“How can you love someone with so much blood on her hands? It’s a simple question.” Shrugging his shoulders Winger found it odd he wasn’t talking to someone, per se.
“You provide evidence, and I’ll decide.”
“She destroyed thousands of lives over the years. Surely you see that she is a threat.”
“Maybe she had a reason.”
“You’re a bright man Jeff, why would anyone murder people? What reason would they have?”
“Self defense and retributive justice.”
“Yet Ms. Edison could have disabled instead of killed in the parking lot that night. And the slaughter of whole villages.”
“Look, I’m not going to argue intent. You send people to harm others, you have no knowledge of intention; whatever the reason they attack, a person has the right to defend themselves. If they’re the offending party, their rights go right out the window. I know for God damn sure she didn’t slaughter villages.” He was lying through his teeth on that last part.
“You sound so sure of yourself. Didn’t she tell you of her home village? ”
“14th Century history or law is not my concern”
“And so the victims of that massacre have no rights?”
“Whatever she did, she has paid her dues-”
“Wrong! That monster will never know the pain she caused to those families. Her acts are unforgiveable” Jeff did one of the stupidest things he had done in a long time. He punched the wall. And Winger regretted it immediately when the pain shot through his arm.
“Said acts are justifiable under…what the hell am I doing. You want to argue this? Come talk to me in person, face to face. Because you can’t bullshit me. I did that for a living, I’m a master.”
The distorted voice was laughing at him. “You’re blind to the truth Winger.”
“And you’re a hackneyed villain who has no concept of reality. Seriously, who uses kidnapping? Too many cartoons as a kid? Too many B-movie flicks? Where’s the originality.”
“You want to meet me face-to-face?”
“Bring it.”
The door opened, and Jeff wasn’t completely surprised.
______
She hated flying. Call it the fact she was so used to using conventional means by ground or sea over the last several hundred years. Elisabeta felt that sometimes technology advanced far more quickly than what human beings were ready for and flying was one such advancement. She loved her private rail car, and she missed using it. Yet on rare occasions, when flying was necessary, having large amounts of stock in certain companies came with a few perks. The leer jet was an amusing creature in her eyes; yes, they were faster than a railcar, but they were more expensive than her own home. They were a travesty to all that was beautiful about travel.
There was never enough time, she thought to herself, to sit back and enjoy travel. She would have to trick the group into a rail trip this summer. Elisabeta couldn’t help but smile when Britta would huff at the idea of luxury, when Abed and Troy did their special clapshake (her term, she’d have to discuss it with them); Pierce would have his own private car, complete with cognac and cigars, Shirley and he kids would enjoy the trip. But Jeff she was unsure of anymore. Her feelings towards him were stronger than ever before. She cried herself to sleep on several nights, pining for the physical and emotional contact they had shared. In one room of her home, she’d had memorabilia from her many adventures and travels over the years; the debate certificate, a paintball gun, a purple pen and other mementoes of Greendale had been given their own glass case. Each and every one of these items was a reminder of what she’d recently gotten back.
The vampiress adjusted the coat of her trouser suit, and mussed with her hair briefly. She hated these things, and she missed the comfort of her floral prints or the pencil skirt. Modernity was a constant in her life, and she had seen clothing…no, humanity evolve into something completely different through globalization. On several occasions, she longed for a simpler time with simpler clothing.
Her reverie was interrupted by a soft tone and a green seatbelt light lighting up. Taking her seat and buckling her belt she watched as the wing to her right dipped, and the plane started its descent. Elisabeta thought more and more about the upcoming confrontation, and her research was leading to a conclusion she was not pleased with. If it was the offshoot of Marga and Radu, she’d be facing several people with misconstrued ideals. The descendants of the betrayers would have passed down a falsehood that made her a literal monster and them a pious couple doing what was right. There was no amount of convincing that would change their minds. And she loathed the actions she would taking within the next two days.
The jet touched down smoothly. She would be tipping these pilots handsomely for their services and skill. If there was one thing that was constant in her life, it was to support excellent behavior. It worked in education, it worked in business, and it worked in her personal life. It was taxied to a private hanger, the pilots placed on standby; and the upon exiting the plane, she felt the chill air of the Windy City.
“Ms. Barnes, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Elisabeta was approached by a slim, middle-aged black man in a shirt and tie.
“Mr. Jacobs. The pleasure is mine. When Martin told me you were my contact, I couldn’t help but remember your father. How is he?”
Jacobs closed his eyes and shook his head. “We lost him a year ago. But he passed peacefully. Our family owes you a great debt for taking care of him in his later years.” Elisabeta gave a silent approval, and Jacobs closed the distance and hugged the shorter woman. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back.
“Jack, I understand completely. Your father was a good man, and I owe him several times over. It was the least I could do. What we went through…was a nightmare that wouldn’t wish on my enemies.” She sighed, the memories of her last visit to Eastern Europe and the horrors she had witnessed and perpetrated.
He led her to the car in silence. “Dad told me a few years back about the…special situation you find yourself in.”
“Did he?” She stepped into the back followed by him. The driver nodded and slowly made his way to guard post than onto Interstate 190.
“He made me promise that whenever you needed help, our family would be here for you.” The woman closed her eyes and smiled a sad smile. “He talked about the woman who saved his life once or twice when I was a kid. Never gave details until last year. We just always assumed your parents were family friends.”
“My friend Abed would say ‘from a certain point of view. My condolences Jack, he was a great man who made a difference.” Jacobs nodded in appreciation. Pulling a case up, he unlocked the lid and opened it. “I remember that…”
“He said you gave it to him. During the War, in Romania.” He passed the case to her. The hand gun gleamed despite its age. She couldn’t help the tear that fell. She touched the grip, ran a finger along the slide and barrel. She remembered everything about that horrible day when she let loose with reckless abandon. Elisabeta regretted nothing that day.
“I don’t know if you know the history of this weapon. The Nazis, on occasion, would take these off POWs. This was an American soldier’s weapon. When I found it, I gave it to him as we escaped the prison camp. It was only right for it to be returned to an American solider.”
“He wanted you to have it in case something like this came up. You’ll need it, for what you’re going to do.”
Elisabeta nodded. “I will return this to your family when I’m done.”
“We know you will.”
______
The vampiress couldn’t help but laugh at the structure in front of her. The abandoned warehouse on the waterfront of Lake Michigan was too cliché even for her. Elisabeta pulled the goggles down over her head and counted again, writing a number on the pad of paper next to her for each individual.
“Tell me about this place.”
”Built in 1938, used by a shipping concern until 1982 when the business went bankrupt. Bought in 2005 by a shell company in the Seychelles; remodeled by Sterlings and Gould in 2009. Power, water, and gas paid in full each month.”
“Anything suspicious Abed?”
“Annie, I’ve only had two hours with this setup.”
“I have faith in you Abed.”
”…Records show there are two land lines into the building, as well as an old T/1 line and newer fiber optic line. Data use is minimal.” She heard typing in the background. ”Did you count how many guards?”
“Sending them now.” Abed, to her amusement took to the workstation setup quickly. With a year of practice, she could use him as a consultant and probably start a small freelance intelligence agency. The young man was naturally intuitive, and the CIA would kill to have him. But Elisabeta also knew that would kill him and his creativity.
”Pierce wants another bottle of cognac.”
“Bottom right hand cupboard. We won’t know how many people are in that building, will we.”
”No, unless you have a spy satellite in the sky, which would be really cool. Troy wants to know what we’re doing.”
She pulled the goggles up and turned on a receiver. Within seconds, she heard voices relaying orders. “Tell Troy that he and Britta should go for a swim by the waterfall.” There was a muffled voice on the other end of the connection, and Elisabeta couldn’t help by chuckle. Troy’s burgeoning relationship with Brtta was a joyful occasion as well as hilarious. In complete contradiction to both of their normal “types,” over the last month they had gotten closer. Her friends deserved their happiness, and she assured herself that she’d make it happen. Closing her eyes momentarily, she reset her focus and starting counting again. “Abed, I’m sending some numbers your way; can you find a patrol pattern?”
”If I was there, I could tell you a lot more.”
“Abed, I’ve had a camera attached to these goggles the whole time. Haven’t you been watching?” There was silence on the line.
”I could tell you a lot more, I could tell you a lot more, I could, I could-”
She should be livid, but she wasn’t. She shook her head in exasperation; the vampiress knew he was deflecting. “Don’t even think of trying that with me. Turn on the recording and see what you can find. I’m going get a different angle.”
Elisabeta knew how to travel light. The kumpania had taught her centuries ago, and her more recent experience of backpacking the Great Plains and Rocky Mountains during the American Civil War. Traveling behind Axis lines required true scavenging skills, making any surplus equipment a godsend. The portable transceiver, the reinforced pad computer, night goggles, and a small medical kit were easily carried in leather satchel. The 1911 Colt was uncomfortable, (as a personal rule, she hated and never used firearms), but the holster was attached to her belt, and if Jeff needed a weapon she hoped he’d be able to shoot a gun properly.
”North Entrance.”
“Pardon?” The voice in her ear took her out of her reverie.
“It’s the best place to enter. The street lamps are-”
“I trust you. Abed, I’m moving up the time table.”
”…why?
“Gut feeling.”
”I can’t stop you. Just be careful.”
She pulled the goggles off her head, and turned them around. Her face was streaming life, and Abed was watching. She knew he was watching her. Knowing Abed, he’d use this as stock footage.
“Abed, I’m going offline now. If I don’t come back, and there is a remote chance, I need you to open the safe in my office.”
”We can come rescue you, you know.”
“The vault door is time locked for three days. Please, don’t fight me on this.”
There was silence, and then a deflated voice. ”Bring him home Annie.” Elisabeta could hear the younger man’s genuine worry as she cut the communications feed. The woman knew that a thousand miles away, her friends were oblivious to what was happening.
She prayed that held true.
______
Years of training kicked into gear; her awareness expanded, her muscles flexed, her mind focused to preternatural crystal clarity. It was time once more to become the Blood Countess, and to her surprise there was some elation in the forthcoming activities of the evening. When her heightened abilities were unleashed, she could feel the twinge of her hunger. Elisabeta at one occasion wondered if she was becoming more and more animal when her “powers” were at full strength. That instance she had laughed the thought off, yet another time she scared herself into a prolonged anxiety attack which almost landed her in a mental ward.
She had learned long ago that theatrics went a long way towards intimidating the human mind. Presenting an anonymous façade provided her a psychological edge against her enemies, and she relished the fear it produced. The blood red tear drop under the left eye of the volto mask made it all the more dramatic. Her costume had also been modernized over the centuries; she’d added a duster that billowed like the riding cape she wore long ago, and instead of the long lost wedding robes, she now wore a skintight body suit turning her vampiric bride to succubus assassin. Elisabeta mused that she pulled the look off better than that Underworld trollop with the added bonus of having come up with the idea decades before the movies. She’d shown Abed, who cocked his head and said what she thought was his trademark line of “cool cool cool.” The final component of her “costume” was the sheath on her back for her husband’s falx. The wooden handle, longer the double-sided curved blade itself has been used with brutal efficiency over the centuries, along with the short sword at her side.
Abed was correct about the northern approach. She stayed to the shadows, the midnight blue of the duster helping her blend in but the bone white face still visible in the dark of the night. The visage was enough to spook a hobo stumbling through the alley way, wherein he promptly dropped an empty bottle and ran off in a panic (Elisabeta couldn’t help but smile).
The door to the warehouse was left mostly unguarded, save for a sentry that patrolled every fourteen minutes. She looked for cameras over the door, she look for any kind of alarm system. Abed had been thorough, but she needed to double and triple check.
The guard strolled by the woman, as if on cue, whistling an improvised tune and twirling the large key ring. It was too stereotypical for her when her eyes glanced at the belt. He had a sidearm, which never bode well, as well as a heavy flash light. They were armed and ready for anything may happen on their appointed rounds. Smaller caliber bullets never stopped Elisabetta, she’d learned enough first aid in the war to patch herself up and the added benefit of an accelerated healing ability could fix any minor injury. But the stun guns the thugs were using were worrisome. The idea of losing muscle control so quickly frightened her. Instincts honed over the course of several lifetimes told her if she stopped moving, she was dead. And if there was thing she shared with her Annie persona, was the loss of control could cause a problem.
She was in the shadows, her ears picking up the sound of every footstep and every breath. He was within five feet of her when she lunged at the man, spinning themselves around and slamming him hard against the wall. There was a loud thunk as his head hit the bricks of the building, and the sentry slumped down. Elisabeta checked his pulse then noticed the zip tie cuffs. She couldn’t get this lucky, and she wasn’t going to complain. Grabbing a handful and stuffing them in the satchel, she restrained the man and put him in the dumpster to hide her approach. Finished with the lookout she examined the door, looking at the lock, searching for a keypad; it was dead bolted, but that never stopped her. Two small paper clips bent into the right shapes helped deal with the lock, and she quickly slipped into warehouse portion of the building.
Taking refuge behind a pallet full of boxes, she closed her eyes and perked up her hearing once again. There were muffled voices in the background: several men, a few women, and at least one radio playing some no-name one hit wonder.
This was going to be harder than she thought. She never claimed to have sonar, but she could always picture the general whereabouts of individuals in even a largely enclosed area with enough concentration.
“Hi Annie!” She felt the shock of electricity. Elisabeta cringed, the electricity coursing through her body and figuratively freezing her in place before she could turn towards her attacker. It took three seconds before she went limp, and unconscious a second later with a kick to the temple.