The flowers of Italy filled my nostrils with their sweet fragrance as I walked past them. God, is there nothing wrong in Rome? Yes, yes there is. It's why you're here. I thought as I pushed passed a group of loud, American tourists. Though, characterizing them as such was a little unfair. I, myself was American; but I could just as easily pass myself off as a French woman if I should so choose. Or a woman belonging to any of the languages I spoke, but of them all, French was preferred. I was in France when they picked me up, in my beautiful city of Avignon. A home I more than likely would not be able to see again.
Your mission is simple. Find Anderson. Figure out what his weaknesses are and where his loyalties truly lie. He and the Vatican will pay dearly for their open contempt of our treaty; you know why we have chosen you for this task. Now go, for God and Crown, get us the information we need.
Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. The leader of the Hellsing Organization. Her words still played through my mind over and over. Yes, I did understand why they chose me. Sheer dumb luck is why. It had been pure coincidence that I knew Alexander Anderson before the Iscariot had gotten ahold of him. I was the only one who knew of his life before Section 13, before his extremist Catholic views, before everything.
How had he changed? Would he even remember me? This is stupid; of course he would remember you. It's hard to forget exorcisms, or their consequences. And then what would happen once he saw me? Death? Not that I would care, this world is filled with horrors and idiots, and I'll be glad to be rid of them and their endless siege upon mankind. That's the only reason you took this job, for a quick ticket to the afterlife. I shrugged off my morbid thoughts as I saw the orphanage come into view.
Anderson was a priest, a seemingly noble man devoting his time to the children of the orphanage when he wasn't running around doing the Iscariot's dirty work. I pitied him; he was so much different when we first met. This is not the time to get sentimental, I had a job and I meant to do it thoroughly and completely; to pretend to be emotionally involved again I needed stow my real ones.
A soft breeze blew, my dark-brown curls carried in its wake. I looked down at myself, making sure I was somewhat resembling the girl Anderson knew. A light blue sleeveless sundress and blue ribbon wedges. I had just a few pins holding my thick curls away from my face; this is the closest this day-in-age would allow me to look without being noticed. Hellsing had provided me with a credit card to get whatever was necessary to get close to Anderson; this was similar enough to how I had been when we knew each other. Nowadays I strictly preferred jeans and button down plaid shirts, but that wasn't who Anderson knew, it wasn't who he'd want to see, and Hellsing was aware of that. I tried to forget that they were objectifying me to get what they wanted, but they were giving me something in return that I had truly desired for ages, something my entire being ached for.
Close to the orphanage, I sat down on a bench with my tan over the shoulder bag and took out a book with worn pages and a fringed cover, The Count of Monte Cristo, my favorite. I had read it a hundred times, and would read it a hundred times more while I was waiting. Patience was the game for the first encounter; patience and a damn good poker face. I looked around, the cobblestone street was bathed in sunlight, and even the orphanage managed to look like the remnants of an ancient Roman edifice. I had been briefed. Anderson and the children of the orphanage go to the market once a week with a small allowance given to them by the Church (courtesy of Anderson, no doubt). The sun lounged high in the sky; they would be coming out soon.
As if on cue, the old gates to the orphanage creaked open, and a herd of children spilled out; excitement and laughter resonating through their voices. My heart quickened and I took a sharp intake of breath. Behind the masses were the unmistakable features of the man that I had tried so hard to forget. Golden hair, emerald eyes frames with glasses and a scar that ran down his left cheek. He was followed by two others, much older than he. I watched them from behind my book, careful not to catch anyone's eye. There was a tug on my dress; I looked down to see a small dirty-faced boy smiling a toothless grin at me.
"Hello!" He said happily. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Anderson looking at me and the boy and he started in our direction. "Dammit!" I swore under my breath, low enough so the child couldn't hear me. I had hopped just to observe today, not come into contact.
Children.
They have a complete genius for messing up even the best laid of plans. Fuck. My mind went to work quickly, remaking my plan to fit this new turn of events. Hellsing hadn't employed me for proficiency in language; it was for my mind, my age, and my history.
I smiled down at the child, "Why hello there, how are you?" I said responding in his Italian. He eyed the book I held in my hand, Anderson was getting closer. "What's that?" He asked curiously. I showed it to him. "This? It's a book about a man wrongfully convicted and he escapes and casts his revenge in the ones who framed him." His eyes widened, alight with the thrill of an adventure. He was about to speak but a harsh voice halted his intent.
"Thomas! What have we been over about talking to strangers?" the boy looked up and looked down at his shoes quickly. "To not to," He muttered. "That's right," The voice softened, "Now apologize to this lady and head back with the others alright?" boy named Thomas looked back at me, "I'm sorry Miss-Lady." I couldn't help but smile, the young boy's innocence was intoxicating. I found myself, for a moment, wanting to go back to a time when I could live in a carefree innocence. But that time had been long gone.
"That's not a problem Thomas; it was very nice to meet you!" He seemed placated by this and ran back to where the rest of the children were playing, turning back to shoot me another smile. I laughed to myself though I could still feel Anderson's presence close to me; he had not left to join the group. "I'm sorry about that miss, Thomas has always enjoyed a lady's company, I'm afraid we'll have to keep a closer eye on him as he gets older." His voice was smooth; I still hadn't looked at him, preparing myself for the encounter.
"There is no reason to apologize, Father, I'm sure he meant no harm." I said as I lifted my gaze to meet his. He was an imposing 6 feet and 8 inches tall, this man didn't scare me. "Well I will be God Damned." He said. I stared, waiting for him to continue. He didn't.
"Alexander Anderson." I said, mirroring his short statement. He stared at me for a long time before calling one of the other priests. Whispering, the man looked at me and back and Anderson before turning to the group of children who had grown more and more restless, allowance money burning holes through their pockets. The man and the other that walked out with them started making their way to the market square, leaving Anderson and I alone in the cobblestone street. He stood there a long time, I put my book back in my bag and stood up to leave, but his hand shot out to grab my arm, clearly I wasn't going anywhere.
"Not so fast there." I turned to look at him, tapping into my former self I rolled my eyes and said, "Well if you aren't going to say anything there's no point in staying is there?" A half smile formed; a good sign. Putting my free hand on my hip, I raised my eyebrows, waiting. "Oh you haven't changed at all, have you?" He said, almost mocking. I stared at him, "Apparently not. Is there anything pressing you need? I really need to get back to where I'm staying, I have work to do." He let out a laugh. "By God, you really haven't changed! Heaven forbid anyone keep the great Rachel Lee Bell from doing her work!" I glared at him, was he actually happy about seeing me? No you idiot, can't you tell by the way he laughed? He's plotting something just as you are.
Once he finished laughing he yanked me close so that I was just inches from his face, his voice lowered, "What the Hell have you come here for, you atheist heathen?" There it was, the Anderson I was so disgustingly familiar with. "Atheist?" I said sharply. "Your facts are a little outdated. I found the way of the Lord and have since walked a righteous path, I compled the RCIA." I said matter-of-factly. A tone that always got under his skin, his eyes flashed, but he looked surprised. "And I have gone through six of the seven Sacraments." I added. Come on you extremist sociopath, take the damn bait! He stared, unknowing of what to say. "Which one have you not completed?" Checkmate.
"Marriage." I said shortly. "Now release my arm, I have to go." His grip loosened. "I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you Rachel. I have never really wanted to harm you." I looked into his deep green eyes, he almost seemed regretful, but I knew better. "I still have not forgotten, Anderson. Had I known you occupied Rome I would've avoided all of Italy like it was the plague." I stared him down, I had addressed the tension, and I hoped it would fade away. He tightened his grip on me once more, "That night was for your own good. I was trying to help you! You had no idea of the ramifications of what might have occurred had I not stepped in!" He shouted.
There was a time when I would have shirked away from him. That time had been long gone. Getting closer to his face I looked him in the eye and yelled back, "Oh I see! Am I then to bow to you in thanks Saint Anderson?" I spat the words like venom. "I may look like the same girl I was, but do not think that I have remained the same in all ways. I am not a girl you can sway easily, I am no docile female." I tore my arm from his grip. Spinning on my heel I turned and walked away, not looking back. He could've easily caught up with me if he wanted, but I heard no pursuing footsteps. Good, this was going as planned. Over the next few weeks I would complete the initial phase and then move forward with the rest. Alexander Anderson, you have finally met your match.