A/N: I knew I was going to make this into its own mini story. It's about what Hellsing does in WWII to save Britain inThe Battle of Britain. I am in love with history, it being my favorite subject. I was watching Victory at Sea the other day with my family, and this idea came to mind. I hope you like it!
There is a key at the bottom if you get lost with all the WWII slang (?)
Disclaimer: I do NOT, in any way, own Hellsing or the characters in it. It is owned by Kohta Hirano, Dark Horse Manga, and any other business or people who assisted in creating these fascinating characters!
15 July 1940
Location: RAF Uxbridge Base
"The Luftwaffe has officially started their attack on our air bases," one man stated as he pointed to a huge table in the middle of the room.
"We have neither the planes nor the men to keep the Germans at bay," another said, folding his arms indignantly across his chest.
"Gentlemen, please. There is no time to argue and fuss. We have an advantage that the Germans do not yet know of: Radio Detection Finding. Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding, I believe, has a plan for this," a stout, bald man with a cigar in his mouth sat down in a nearby chair. The room grew quiet at his order.
A sharp looking man with sunken eyes and a neatly trimmed mustache rose from his seat of the table and habitually unruffled his uniform. He paused only for a moment, as if to pray that his ideas would work. He then cleared his throat.
"Many of the air defense systems that we use had been originally set up by Major General E B Ashmore in 1917. Well, I have been able to modernize many of the features of this system, including the use of two-way radio and the ROC have already helped. Now, I wish to implement the use of Radio Detection Finding in order to intercept German planes. This way-"
"Are you telling me that you wish to use radio waves to detect the Luftwaffe aircraft?" one man questioned, "This would only succeed as long as we have planes, and, as we've already established, we have, or will have, neither."
"Let him finish," ordered the stout man who had one hand balancing his cigar in his mouth. Everyone grew quiet once more.
Sir Hugh Dowding continued, though his expression agitated, "We can use this as a means of detecting where the German planes are headed, and to which air fields they are ordered. We can have operators round the clock who are linked to telephones that have access to an operation center. I believe Fighter Command Control at Bentley Priory shall suffice."
People around the massive table shifted nervously and stared down at the laid out map, scattered with miniature planes and flags in different positions. Suddenly, an uproar of noise and volume shattered the frail silence as Squadron Leaders, Group Captains, Air Marshals, and Generals spoke at once. Everyone began arguing their own viewpoints, and left Sir Hugh Dowding standing there like a fool. He mumbled a curse word and sat back down, wishing for a better turnout and even some support. But the stout bald man waved the Air Chief Marshal over to his seat.
"I believe we can begin your operations at the Bentley Priory starting tomorrow, that is, if you're ready," the bald man smiled.
Sir Hugh Dowding brightened and shook hands roughly with the man, "Oh, thank you Prime Minister. You shall have my plans on your desk tomorrow morning."
The room was a sea of men, a sea of heated debate, flushed faces, and elevated heartbeats. Completely forgotten to all but Prime Minister Winston Churchill, a group of men stood off in a darkened corner. One of the men was confined to a wheel chair and looked in his early eighties. He had a perpetual frown upon his face that glowered with ripe contempt at the crowd's unnecessary volume. Another had wild ebony hair that looked constricted under a fedora and wore a pair of dark, circular wire-framed glasses. He had a perpetual smile plastered to his face, and looked exceedingly amused at the shouting matches. The last was a boy, no younger than fifteen, dressed in a man servant's clothes. His face was one of eager anticipation and excitement. Prime Minister Winston Churchill stood up and groaned slightly, leaving his comforting chair behind as he maneuvered his way to the darkened group. The man confined to a wheel chair straightened up and extended a hand.
"Prime Minister," he shook hands.
"Abraham," Churchill nodded and then turned to face the entire group, "Shall we?" he motioned for a back door.
The boy grabbed onto the back of the wheel chair and proceeded to push Abraham to the door. Churchill opened it and took another whiff of smoke in. The last one to shut the door was the amused and smiling man. He glanced around the room and scoffed, knowing that when his group would return, they'd be in the same state of heated debate. Nothing was ever accomplished with overlapping voices. Just one would do, one tyrannical ruler, with swift justice and harsh penalties of impalement. But the man shut the door carefully, silently, and followed the others. A brisk air surrounded the group as they walked all the way to the side yard where hedges of bushes grew, where no one else was present. Churchill abruptly stopped and turned to face his company.
"I do believe you understand the situation, Abraham. Sir Hugh Dowding knows he can use radio waves to detect Luftwaffe planes. But that only goes so far and for so long until Bentley Priory gets bombed herself, if communications jam, or if the Germans change their tactics and are able to somehow come in undetected…that is, to the radio waves."
Abraham stood as tall as he could and nodded, "Aye. Hellsing will use its best forces to aid the RAF from obliteration. That I can promise. We will push the bastards back to France, we will make sure that they do not penetrate England and make sure that they will not get to our citizens."
Churchill nodded in agreement and turned to the boy, "Just as clarification, who exactly will be helping the RAF?"
"I will be, Prime Minister," said a voice coated in velvet. Churchill whirled around, startled and angered that he had forgotten the man's presence earlier.
"Ah, the vampire, the Nosferatu Alucard," Churchill muttered, "And what of this boy?"
"His name is Walter, he is my butler and agent-in-training," Abraham answered, giving Alucard a slide-long look, a warning.
"Who's training?" Churchill asked.
"Mine," Alucard answered, "I have been training him for three years now. He is well versed in the art of killing."
Churchill raised a brow and his eyes widened slightly as his gaze turned downward to the boy. Walter smiled innocently and then bowed.
"Pleasure to meet you," Walter stated.
Churchill nodded and then turned to Alucard. His face twisted into a stern look, eyebrows crashed together, lips tight on his sinking cheeks, and slight color to his face.
"Are you sure you can help us? How exactly would you?" Churchill confused himself more and more.
"Sir, if I may answer," Abraham offered and continued when the Prime Minister faced him. "Alucard already knows how to fly planes. Perhaps not Spitfires and Hurricanes, but he could be trained. Also, he is able to morph into many things such as bats and a hellhound."
"There is just one little problem with this. If he uses a plane, then he's only as fast as our other pilots. What if he uses his bats to spread out and intercept and help?" Churchill asked.
"There is just one little problem with that," Abraham reiterated, "The Radio Detection Finding could detect his bats and pick them up as Luftwaffe."
"Damn," Churchill spat, "Well, if there is any way that you can aid us, any way at all with your vampiric powers, then do so."
"If I may," Alucard interrupted, "It would be wisest to train me in the art of flying Spitfires and Hurricanes, in case I ever do need to fly out with your pilots. It would seem that since the Radio Detection Finding would detect my bats and not be able to intercept what was me and what was a Luftwaffe plane, I should start off in a plane. That way, if I'm detected as the enemy but I'm in a plane, you will not send an entire squadron of planes, which is exactly what would happen if I morphed into all of my bats."
The other two grown men stood there and looked at one another for a moment. Then both nodded to the idea. It seemed plausible enough, and Churchill did not wish to send an entire squadron of pilots over only to find out that the enemy is just a swarm of eerie looking bats that are out in the daytime.
"We do not know exactly how much this detecting system will detect, so it's in our best interest to start out small," Churchill brought the cigar to his mouth, "See to it that you report to Sir Hugh Dowding tomorrow morning for briefing and an assignment."
"Thank you," Abraham shook hands with Churchill.
"Oh, and Abraham, how is Mary?" the Prime Minister carefully questioned and smiled disarmingly.
"She…she's in the hospital. She's been in labor since this morning. God, I hope my grandchild is alright, and I hope Mary…I hope she lives," Abraham's voice grew softer and softer.
Churchill's eyes grew sad, as if remembering what the presence of death could do to a man, and he smiled apologetically, "Yes, she's in our prayers, always."
Abraham sat silent to that, wishing, beyond hope, that his little girl was well. He already had lost his wife Elizabeth in child labor, and it wasn't going to happen to his only child, his baby girl, his world. Thoughts of turning his wife, of begging Alucard to make her like him, wishing that she was a virgin, flashed through his mind as he saw the light leave Elizabeth's eyes. The only thing stopping him from turning to his servant and ordering Alucard to turn her into something, anything, so long as she was still there, was a cross that she was gripping. She held it so tightly, Abraham thought her fingers fused to it. He prayed and prayed until he heard the healthy cries of a baby girl. Elizabeth, her last word, was 'Mary'.
A single tear drop formed on the side of Abraham's face and trickled down to his cheek. His quick movement to wipe it off was so fast that the Walter wasn't sure it was ever there. Churchill, already making his way back to the meeting, waved a goodbye and left the group of men to themselves. The old man motioned for Walter to help him start moving, and Walter quickly grabbed the handles of the bars.
"Master Abraham, are you alright?" Walter asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, quite fine indeed. I should visit the hospital," the old man's eyes grew anxious.
"No, sir. You need to get back to the mansion. You haven't been feeling well these past few days, and you must rest. You can see Mary tomorrow," Walter countered, though carefully.
"Lad, the only reason why I've not been well is because of Mary. If I go and see her then I'll feel better. I'm not like you anymore, not young, agile, pliable, and full of energy. But I can make it to the hospital and make sure that my baby girl has delivered her child. You cannot tell me otherwise."
"But sir-"
"I will not hear it! Do not make me order you, servant. She's all I have left, and I won't let her leave, I won't let her get hurt. Now, take me to the hospital," Abraham demanded.
Walter swiftly turned and pulled up to an early Bedford O series van. The servant opened the two back doors and then hoisted the wheel chair up and into the back of the van with the help of a man made ramp. Finally securing his master, Walter shut the doors of the van and walked to the front of the vehicle.
"Alucard," Walter murmured. A mass of flesh materialized in front of him. Had it been three years ago, Walter would have screamed and run away. But he was used to this game now, and sometimes found it amusing.
"Yes, little one?" Alucard's deep voice penetrated Walter's nerves.
"Thank you for helping," the young boy gritted his teeth.
"I can't do all the heavy lifting and leg work now can I?" the vampire grinned under his fedora. Walter could see, with the help of a full moon, a glistening fang exposed from Alucard's mouth. He kept himself from shivering, but had to wonder when the last time the vampire had fed.
"So what am I supposed to do, drive Master Abraham to the hospital? You're the ones with the keys to the van," Walter changed the subject.
"Am I?" Alucard questioned with a devious smile as he turned on his heels. The boy frowned, his mind lost in confusion, until he rummaged around in his own pockets. Walter gasped when he felt a sharp metal key against his index finger.
"Alucard!" Walter shouted, but the vampire was almost out of earshot.
"You're fifteen; you should learn how to drive that van. I'm not going to be around starting tomorrow to drive Abraham around, now am I?" Alucard's voice carried ripe amusement.
"Next time, warn me. I don't want your hands running in and out of my pockets," Walter said, sick to his stomach. All that answered him was deranged laughter.
"At last, I'm alone," Alucard whispered as he phased himself in and out of walls in downtown London.
The glare of the streetlights was annoying, but he managed to maneuver around them, just out of sight. Crowds of people stumbling out of pubs shouting at one another entertained him for a while, but their rank breath and stench that he could smell even from a distance eventually repelled him into moving on. The elder vampire enjoyed soliitariety and the soft breeze, the cool night air, the silence of the night, the calm, wonderful weather. His footsteps eventually led him to an older section of London, where the roads were too narrow for cars and the crowds had thinned to nothing. Alucard roamed around outside new pubs and listened in on the conversations of drunken people in each pub. Some were so close in proximity that the buildings were across the street from one another. It took time for Alucard to muffle out things he didn't want to hear, and focus in on conversations he liked. But this eventually bored him as well. He often wondered if this is what his life had come to: spying on people's conversations at night, roaming the streets forever alone, separate, detached, from the rest of people. However, Alucard had chosen this. It was far easier to be feared then loved*. It was far easier to kill than to care, and it was far easier to seek death than try to be human. Alucard laughed in spite of himself, until he heard anxious and angered voices. They were not coming from a pub, but from an abandoned warehouse next to a pub. Alucard concentrated and focused when he heard someone with a thick German accent. There was another, a woman's voice…a woman's terrified voice.
"Please, I don't know anything!" she begged.
"You don't know anything. You don't know anything! Vat about your uniform? Vat does that say, hmm?" a man's voice bellowed, "I think it says ROC, und do you know vat that means?"
"Please, I'm just a nobody; I'm not even a messenger!"
Alucard heard her get slapped and he opened his eyes, "So, a spy and his hostage…sounds like some fun," the vampire closed in on his destination.
Alucard scaled up the broken and cracked walls of the warehouse like gravity was nonexistent and perched himself atop the roof of the building. From there, he could see a woman tied to an old leather chair and a man who had pulled up his own chair. Another woman stood two feet away with a Roth-Steyr M1907 in her hand. Two spies, one hostage.
"Then let me honor this setting with two casualties on the stage," Alucard whispered with delight at the thought of finally catching some action.
"Fine, if you von't tell us, ve'll just find another," the woman impatiently stroked the barrel and pointed it to the girl's head. She whimpered slightly, but kept her mouth shut, clenched against her jaw.
One shot was heard, and the hostage girl laid back, stunned, shock forming. But when she couldn't feel anything, when she couldn't see death opening its arms for her, she opened her eyes. A river of blood ran from the dead body of the woman spy who had held a gun to her head, her arms stretched out on the floor as if to block what had killed her. The girl peered down and noticed spattered blood that now stained her uniform. The girl gasped at the sight and almost screamed. But a gargled noise from her left caused her to snap her head in that direction. She focused her eyes across the room and saw that a tall man dressed in dark red and black had a vice grip on the male spy who had slapped her moments before. He was now choking, desperately attempting to feel air in his lungs again; but the taller man dressed in red and black seemed to growl at him. She craned her neck to hear what he was saying.
"I-I told you, she's the spy," the real spy gurgled.
"Aw, where did your accent go?" Alucard toyed, letting the man down only for a second to breathe in air to answer, "It sounded so very natural."
"W-e were just p-p-playing our part. This i-is all a-a misunders-stainding! You g-got it wrong!" the man protested and grabbed Alucard's arm in a futile attempt to get released.
But Alucard let a feral, guttural sound escape his throat as he squeezed the spy's neck until the whites of his eyes turned red and his face purple.
"Liar, I know a native when I see one. I don't appreciate people who lie to me. Back when I ruled, such men would be impaled; liars, cheaters, and thieves, all charged with the death penalty of impalement. You would fit in just fine, kraut," Alucard hissed, exposing a fang which made the man scream in terror.
Sensing someone was watching him, Alucard turned around for a brief moment to face and see a horrified girl staring at him in mild fascination. He locked eyes with her, entrancing her, making her feel dull and fuzzy around the edges. She stared back into those red eyes, completely committed to them, to the trance they held her in. The girl's eyes started to lower as her body slunk back in the chair, though she was still tied to it. The vampire grinned as he had successfully brainwashed his words she had heard from her mind. He plucked them out, one by one, until all were gone.
Alucard turned back around to face the man that he still held in his grip, only to find out that he had choked the spy to death. The vampire let his body fall to the ground with a thud. Alucard stood there, wondering what to do, when an idea crept into his mind. He picked the corpse up from the ground, glanced back at the sleeping girl, and then bit into the spy. Immediately, Alucard felt the warm blood slide down his throat. The vampire gripped the body and consumed more and more liquid with every mouthful. He groaned in pleasure as he felt the blood nourish his powers and make him feel again. Alucard also watched as images from the spy's life flash before him, including that of his assignment as a spy to obtain information…information about the RAF. Pictures fluttered across Alucard's eyelids as he concentrated and linked picture to words and orders spoken to the man. The elder vampire sucked the last bits of blood from the now dry husk of a body. Alucard let it drop and licked his lips when he heard a girl softly stirring.
"Miss, are you alright?" Alucard swooped in and knelt down to face the girl.
"W-what? Are they dead?" she asked as her head rolled around trying to find its balance.
"Yes, I killed them. You are free," Alucard wasted no time and unbound her from the chair. He easily tore through the leather belts tying her down and ripped through the string tying her ankles together.
"Thank you," she woman rubbed at her bleeding wrists and ankles, "They've had me in here for a day and a half," she gulped but managed to keep a strong voice.
Alucard was impressed at her state, and the fact that she wasn't wallowing in self-pity, blubbering into his shoulder. He smiled, concealing his fangs as best he could from her raw open wounds that he noticed. She reflected his smile, and used his arms to help her stand. The vampire looked over her soft red curls and light green eyes that nervously darted from his face to the dead male spy. Alucard could hear her racing heartbeat, despite her formal composure, and realized that he had not introduced himself.
"My name is Alucard. I'm a part of the Hellsing Organization, a secret service for his majesty," Alucard introduced himself. It made little effect, but it was worth a try.
"My name is Loreley, Loreley Turner. I'm a woman in the ROC, the-"
"Royal Observer Corps. I've heard of them. You're brave to join their cause," Alucard helped her walk down the rickety stairs, wishing he could just whisk her down the side of the walls and land gracefully to the ground; as efficient as it was, he knew he couldn't.
"I, as a woman, have just enough cause to help in this as men do," Loreley let her voice carry an edge.
Alucard smiled; how cute she was. "I understand. What happened?"
"You know that, once the Luftwaffe has crossed the coastline, the Observer Corps provides the only means of tracking their position. The ROC is operating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, mapping out the enemy aircraft and then passes this essential information to RAF Fighter Command Groups and Sector Controls. I was just one of the operators who'd gotten off her shift. They must have followed me," her voice finally faltered and died.
Alucard knew she couldn't speak anymore, not after what she'd just been through. That speech had caught him up, and made a sliver of pride for her cut its way through his mind as he helped her down the last steps, one hand placed gently on her hip. She seemed to relax at its presence, and the vampire secretly smiled. She stopped suddenly which caught Alucard off guard.
"Look, I appreciate your help, and it's not that I don't believe you. I just don't want you walking me all the way to my apartment, not really knowing who you are…and only having your word," Loreley looked down and scuffed one foot awkwardly.
Humph, used to be that a man's word was his honor, but that was a different time, a different era…a dead era, Alucard internally thought, frustrated.
"It's fine, I have matters to attend to. Are you sure you will be alright?" Alucard looked her battered body over, mildly concerned, but he said it more to be polite.
"Truly, it's not like my drunken father never did things similar to me when I was a child. After the Great War, he was never the same, no one in my family was," Loreley's voice was practically a whisper, but it didn't escape the vampire's hearing.
Alucard stood there, like a statue, unsure exactly what to do in a social situation such as this. He stood there, if a little awkwardly, thinking what he should do. Had she been selected by him to be his bride, the two would have already been in his coffin with him tearing her clothes off. But such as it was, they stood there instead, in a completely different scene and a situation that he found himself slightly confused to be in. But a moment later and she was hugging him, almost tugging at his coat to hang on. It startled Alucard for a second, but she pressed her body to his like grasping a life jacket in a maelstrom. Alucard's teeth immediately clenched, fighting all of his desires to make her body scream for him. He held her back, gently at first. But Loreley gripped tighter and tighter, forcing her head on his chest and pulling his back into her. Alucard mimicked her in a gentler way, a little unsure if he had breached her comfort; but she only yanked him even closer to her. He smelled a light perfume in her wavy curls that made his mouth water and his fangs lengthen. Just when the heat from her body was unbearable, her blood readily coursing through her delicious veins, and when his body ached at the thought of taking advantage of her, she ripped herself away from him and straightened her jacket. Like a ripcord being pulled in an air balloon to let it descend, Alucard felt his entire body relax and the tension between them lessen.
"My apologies, I…I needed that," Loreley's cheeks grew rosy red and she bit at her lip.
Alucard was able to retract his fangs in time to flash a pearly white smile her way, making her eyes gleam back at his.
"Anytime," he finally let go of her, though somewhat reluctantly, and took a step back.
"I should…I should go home. Thank you for…everything, and perhaps we'll meet again," Loreley offered as she turned around and started off.
Alucard nodded and turned around, looking back only once to see if she had made it across the street alive.
He whispered, "Count on it."
The elder vampire set off back to the manor, the empty halls of the mansion, just filled with vacant rooms and dusty book shelves that were never read, that no one ever had the time to read. Alucard felt a stir within him wither and die as he stepped further and further away from the young women, both walking in opposite directions. But Alucard easily shook the feeling and let it roll off of his mind; he'd felt this feeling before, and it only took a moment to shake it, one sentence that his second wife had told him when they were married. He wished to slap her after what she had said, the thought she believed that he never loved his first wife, that he never had feelings for her, and that he didn't grieve when she died.
"Vlad, dear, real loss is only possible when you love something or someone more than you love yourself, and I doubt you've ever loved somebody that much."**
* That was from Alice in Wonderland, the movie.
**Yes, that is a quote from Good Will Hunting, one of the best movies ever made.
Soliitariety- Sol`ii*ta*ri"e*ty\, n. The state of being solitary; solitariness.
HA! See? I'm not crazy, that word does exist. Found it on
WWII Key
ROC- Royal Observer Corps
Radio Detection Finding - RDF-known later as Radar (radio detection and ranging).
RAF Uxbridge- base that Churchill, George VI, and Eisenhower all visited.
RAF Bentley Priory: non-flying Royal Air Force station near Stanmore in the London Borough of Harrow. It was famous as the headquarters of Fighter Command during the Battle of Britain and the Second World War.
Roth-Steyr M1907- was a semi-automatic pistol issued to the Austro-Hungarian cavalry during World War I.