Page 94 of The Vampire's Thirst
Lipton clasped his fingers behind his back. “A soldier reported a strange occurrence. He said a … um … vampire, he guessed, fought on our side. Savage man. Fed from the otherworlders he killed. And he killed a shitload. The vamp was with a second guy. Half man, half wolf. The soldier said they made his childhood nightmares seem like wet dreams. But they were on our side.”
The red-headed officer pushed back from the table, crossing an ankle over his knee. “What do you make of it?”
Lip shrugged. “Maybe they’re not all the same. Maybe some are the good guys.”
“How do we tell the difference?” asked his female lieutenant colonel, commander of the second Ranger battalion.
“We don’t. If it’s an otherworlder, kill it or capture it. No change to the goal. Okay. Let’s talk. What don’t we know?” Lip signaled a staffer to take notes on a whiteboard.
The oldest of his officers, who commanded Task Force Green, leaned forward onto an elbow. “Where they will invade. We are aware of some portal sites but not all. Probably very few.” His temples may have been graying, but his analysis was as sharp as ever.
“Check.” Lip nodded at his notetaker.
“We don’t know their numbers. Leaders. What are we calling them? Their … powers?” The Task Force Blue commander pointed at the whiteboard. “What their world is like. Are they all savages? Are some normal folks with … strange appetites?”
“We don’t know how to get through their portals to where they live.” The female lieutenant colonel held herself stiff-spined, her posture as army as she was.
“What do we know?” Lip pushed off from his chair to stand. He paced, heavy brows hooding his eyes.
The woman officer leaned forward. “They’re hard to kill. Bullets don’t necessarily keep them down. I saw dead ones rise to fight again. Like a fucking zombie apocalypse. We need to kill them for real. Colonel Garcia told us to lob off their heads.”
The redhead rested his hands on the table. “Some are vampires. There’s something I never thought I’d say. Others I’d call werewolves. Hell. One had a lion’s mane. What’s that? A werelion? Used claws to rip out a soldier’s heart. Gruesome way to go. I saw a petite woman wave her arms through the air. Like a witch auditioning for a role inBedknobs and Broomsticks?” A few chuckles made it around the room. “Hey. I got kids. I read bedtime stories.”
“I’d go withHocus-Pocus,” said the Green Task Team colonel.
The woman officer said, “How aboutThe Witches of Eastwick?”
Lipton held up a hand before the officers let off any more steam by listing movies about witches. “Continue, Red.”
“Nothing, just we know they’re different species or races.”
“We know we need stronger firepower. The tranqs we acquired from Dante’s Humans First group are effective if we can hit them.” The Blue Task Force commander crossed his arms over his chest.
Lip stopped pacing to face his officers. “Zero in on our biggest problem?”
“Pinpointing where they’re coming through so we can get soldiers there fast enough to stop them,” said the Green Task Force colonel.
The redhead added, “Being able to kill them once we’re there.”
Lip turned to his notetaker. “Star those items. Staffers, we need solutions for these problems yesterday. Long-term picture, scientists are studying the devices we took off the otherworlders. Apparently, the tech is difficult to decipher. Once they figure out the damn things, we believe we can invade their homeland. Take the battle to them. Roll in with big guns, tanks, planes, bombs, the works. Comments? Questions?”
Lip searched the faces of his advisors. They had volunteered for this mission. He hoped he was the leader they deserved. They stared back at him through expectant eyes, asking if he was the man to get the job done.
It was the same question he had asked himself every night since Joint Ops had created Operation Frankenstein and assigned him the Left Bank Special Mission Unit. His answer to his own question?Hell yes.He was the man for the job.
Now, how would he get Colonel Mateo Garcia back?
****
Chiaraleaned into the pool table, one end of the cue resting on her thumb and index finger. She relaxed her knees, eyed the ball, and aimed for the sweet spot. Missing the pocket, she gripped the stick, resting the bumper on the floor.
Oops.
A grinning demon named Sig rubbed his chin, stepping up to the table while his friend Bade, a vampire, watched the eight-ball action from the sidelines, offering occasional advice.
Stronghold live-ins had gathered for an impromptu party, welcoming Fin and her into their fold. Tonight, forgetting about Arisen Dawn for a few hours, they vowed to eat, drink, and talk too much. The recruits had been assigned to check the portals while they celebrated.
Waiting for Sig to miss, Chiara grabbed a piece of pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.
