Dirk Strider was a professional. He would get hired, he would kill vampires, he would get paid, and then the process would repeat. In his very limited free time, he honed his abilities.
Being a vampire hunter was the Strider/Lalonde family business. Dirk, his younger brother Dave, and his cousins, Roxy and Rose, had been trained to kill vampires since they were young. The Striders specialized in swords and hand-to-hand combat, where as the Lalondes used ranged tactics. Though, out of the two Lalonde sisters, Rose was the one that used the dark arts. Yup, that's right. Rose was a motherfucking witch.
It was an ordinary morning, with the older of the two Striders getting on his laptop and checking out his emails. He looked through the emails and nothing catched his interest. A few cases were here and there, but none of them seemed to be challenging enough for the family. He sighed, closing the laptop before he crawled out of bed.
He grabbed his sword when he heard a knock on the apartment door. Slowly making his way towards the peephole, he glanced out the glass. In front of him stood two men wearing black suits and glasses. They flashed a familiar badge to the peephole.
He didn't lower his sword as he opened the door. The two men walked into the apartment and glanced around. Running a hand through his orange-blond hair, Dirk said, "Lemme go get Dave." It didn't take much to wake the other sibling. He had jumped out of bed at the very light knock on his door.
After the duo had sat down in their assigned chairs and forced their 'guests' onto the couch, Dave finally asked, "So, what can the Striders do for you, the oh-so great and powerful Hellsing Organization?" He smirked and crossed his arms. "If I remember correctly, you guys said that you didn't work with, oh, what did you say? 'American lunatics?'" Dirk laced his fingers together, sword resting across his lap.
"The manor was…" They looked between themselves, and the senior of the two took his sunglasses off. He stared at younger of the two, desperation in his eyes. "Sir, Hellsing was under attack less than a week ago. Ninety-six armed guards died to ghouls. Two vampires were sent to kill Sir Integra and the vampire Alucard. They obviously failed, but they left us with one piece of information: Millenium."
Dirk blinked behind his glasses, but kept his poker face nonetheless, "Millenium?" He knew he had heard the name before, but he couldn't quite place it in his memory.
The younger smirked slightly, "Millenium, huh? Well, that tells us nothing. Why does Sir Integra need our help if she only has one piece of info?" He leaned forward in his seat, gripping the armrests of the chair tightly. His shaggy hair fell in front of his sunglasses and casted a dark shadow over his face. "I mean, unless she wants to ask us 'American lunatics' for help. There's no harm in fixing what her father broke all that time ago."
The men stiffened, the senior replacing his glasses over his eyes. He inhaled through his nose, "Sir Integra wanted us to give you this." He pulled an important looking letter out of the inside of his blazer, handing it to Dirk. He accepted it and examined the wax seal keeping it closed. Embedded in the red wax was the Hellsing emblem. He nearly smirked; so, they really did need their help. This was official shit. "She also wants us to request the aid of both the Strider brothers and the Lalonde sisters."
"So this will be a family job?" the older asked carefully. "We haven't one in ages, so we'd need time to get prepared." He opened the envelope of the letter, being especially careful to save the wax seal. He would add it to his collection of odd trinkets from his assorted jobs. From behind his glasses, his eyes scanned the letter quickly, absorbing as much information as possible. He couldn't help but snort at the round about way she asked for help.
The Family Business, as they had become known among the vampire hunter community, were famous for their ruthlessness, which compared with Hellsing's. Where the two differed was that as long as the Strilonds got paid for their work, they got everything done quickly and secretly, not drawing much attention to their kills.
She had written the letter quickly if the sloppy, loopy letters had anything to say about it. And it was handwritten by the leader. Dirk snorted again; Hellsing was desperate enough to come to them for help.
The older handed the younger the parchment. He laughed slightly, "She just doesn't know how to say please." Dave folded the letter and placed it on the coffee table that separated the chairs from the couch. "Well, if she just needs us for protection detail, I guess we can. As long as she understands that we'll be fighting by our rules, not hers."
Dirk nodded, "We don't do well when people give us limitations for our jobs." He jutted his chin in the direction of the letter. "It says she needs us to help with training a group of hired mercs. Was Hellsing unable to get the government to supply more mindless idiots?" The younger suit swallowed, turning his head away from the brother duo.
Dave smirked and looked at his brother, who could almost immediately tell what he was thinking. 'So they were denied more soldiers, huh, big bro?' Dirk gave his sibling a pointed look, but he just brushed it off with a sigh.
"Will you take the job?" the senior asked. The junior kept his head turned away. Once again, the brother duo stared at one another.
"Should we give Roxs and Rosie a call or do you think they'll be chill with this?" Dave shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "I mean, personally, big bro, I think they'll be fine with it. They've been dyin' for a job since they annihilated the last freak."
Dirk lifted his sword up before he stabbed it through the ground. The suits visibly stiffened. Standing up, the sunglass-wearing man said monotonically, "We take it. How long before we leave?"
"Sir Integra asked for you to be there as soon as possible." The junior had finally spoken, but his voice was shaking. Dirk could tell he was intimidated by them; with right reason, too. The family was one of the most deadly.
"I'm assuming there's a private jet at the ready?"
"Who do you think you are!?" the senior asked in a combination of astonishment and anger.
Dirk whipped his head to stare at the senior, "I am Dirk motherfucking Strider, current leader of the Family Business. I am the slaughterer of hundreds, the savior of thousands, one of the four feared lights of the darkness. All I ask is that there be a jet at the ready so I might be able to more efficiently do my job; the one you just bestowed upon me." He gripped the hilt of his sword and pulled it from the floorboards. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Dave and I have to pack and enlighten the other two members." He pointed the edge of the sword at a notepad on the wall. "Write your number down there. I will call you when we are ready to leave. If you would be so kind as to leave after this, that would be fantastic. I don't appreciate trash in my apartment."
He didn't bother to look back at the suits; the sound of shuffling across the floor was enough to ease his anger. He hated when people questioned him. If they had the balls to ask him for help, they needed to know what came with hiring him.
Dave two-finger saluted the men, "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out." When the men were gone, he whistled loudly. "Haven't seen you that pissed in a while, bro." Dirk merely grunted in response, picking up his phone from where it laid on the table. He unlocked it and selected a familiar number. The younger merely walked towards his room.
"Rocky, uh, Roxy speaking~!" He angled his shoulder and neck so that he could support the phone while he packed. It was an easy process, packing the necessary clothing. He had done it a hundred times before.
"Roxy, we have a job." The girl giggled loudly. "Have you been drinking again?" Again, she giggled. "I thought we've gone through this once. No drinking. Ever again."
"Nah, I just took a swag, swig of Rosie's juice! I tink, think it was juice, at least." He opened up another duffle bag, nodding when he saw all the necessities for vampire hunting were there. "I mean, awesome though! A jorb, job is fantastic. Rose and I were gettin' boooored."
There was some fussing with the phone, but soon a calmer voice said, "A job, Dirk? Where exactly would this be at?"
"Hellsing."
"Hellsing?"
He sighed when the sound of something clattering to the ground came from the next room. "Ah! Get the fuck out, crow!" There was cawing, and then more clattering, until he heard a window slam shut. "Caw caw, motherfucker, stay the hell out!"
Rose sniggered, "The crows are attacking Dave again, dearest Dirk. You can brief Roxy and I after we pack and we're on our way over to the UK. For now, we shall pack…" After a moment of silence, she said knowingly, "I assume there is a jet?"
"I made sure of that. What kind of leader would I be if I didn't get the best for us?"
"So there wasn't one originally."
"Integra seriously underestimates the boy she thinks she remembers. It might've been sixteen years since we've last seen one another, but I'm not the same little boy I was back then." The girl laughed lightly. "To think I used to have a crush on her, back when our parents took us over to England."
"Has it really been sixteen years since we've last seen-Roxy, this is a job, not a strip club. Put that skirt back." She sighed, "I need to be going, Dirk. Roxy thinks she can pack for herself, which she has just proven she can't."
"Make sure to bring everything for hunting."
"Yes, mother dear." He could almost hear that sarcastic smile in her voice. "We'll be over in roughly an hour." With that, she hung up. Dirk zipped up the duffel bag and walked out to his chair.
He wondered if he said too much. Not many people knew about the four lights of the darkness. Honestly, he doubted Integra even knew of the name bestowed upon the four members of their small family.
For the first time in what felt like whatever, he removed the triangular sunglasses from his face. His eyelids fluttered to get used to the light of the room, and he looked around while squinting. Sometimes, he needed to remove his glasses. Remind himself that he was more than a vampire hunter; that he was still a human.
After his moment, he put the glasses back on.