The Iscariot Files:

The Passion of Father Anderson

Nicholas D. Wolfwood was smoking a cigarette and watching, through dark sunglasses, a travesty unfold. He was standing in the middle of a field that had a dirt path around it for jogging purposes. Scattered around the filed itself, was an obstacle course designed to test only the most rugged of athletes.

Standing on one of the corners was Father Alexander Anderson. He was glaring at a stopwatch as a runner passed him bye. The runner was a skinny, Japanese school girl wearing a black track uniform. Her long, brown hair had been tied back into a pony-tail. She was breathing heavily, sweat was pouring down her face and she looked as though she might collapse at any moment.

Just watching Anderson put the poor girl through her paces was making Wolfwood tired. He had no idea who the girl was or where she had come from. He tried not to ask Anderson questions when he could help it, but curiosity had finally overcome him. Shouldering the large crucifix wrapped in linen that he carried everywhere, Wolfwood walked over to Anderson just as the girl came around again.

"Alright, I'll bite. Who is she?" Wolfwood asked.

Anderson ignored him to shout at the girl. "You're too slow! Stop slacking and pick up the pace. I know you've got it in you." His thick, Irish accent lent a certain harshness to his tone. The girl, seemingly in her own little world, jogged past him.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a Japanese schoolgirl you've got there. What would you be doing with a Japanese schoolgirl, Anderson?"

Anderson crossed his arms and faced Wolfwood. "I'm doing what Maxwell assigned me to do, what he assigned both of us to do. Bolstering Iscariots ranks."

Wolfwood raised an eyebrow. A few weeks ago, Enrico Maxwell, head of the Iscariot organization, had ordered them to find people of talent and faith (in that order) to join Iscariot. The idea had been to combat the Hellsing organizations growing cadre of freaks. So far, they had been having little success.

"Hellsing has people like Vash the Stampede and Naruto Uza…whatever. Who's she supposed to be?" Wolfwood asked.

"That's Tohru Honda. A schoolgirl from Japan," Anderson said, as though that explained it.

"What does she do?"

"I don't know yet. I'm training her to be my apprentice. Things aren't going so great, but if my Asian cultural studies are any indication, she'll shape up when the time comes."

Wolfwood blinked and removed his sunglasses as Tohru passed bye again. "Say what?"

Anderson sighed, annoyed at both the stopwatch and Wolfwood's questions. "She's a Japanese school girl. Even if she doesn't display anything special in training, she'll shine through in battle."

"So…she's just a schoolgirl then? No powers?"

Anderson looked at Wolfwood as though he were stupid. "I said she's a Japanese schoolgirl, of course she has powers. If not, then deep down, she's an expert martial artist."

Wolfwood's mouth hung open as if to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Part of him knew Anderson had a point; a large majority of Asian schoolgirls were capable of fending off alien invasions and the like, but something about the one running out on the track seemed…normal. Is it possible that he press ganged the one Japanese school girl with no magical powers or martial arts skills? If anyone could do such a thing, it's Anderson, Wolfwood thought.

Anderson sighed and walked past Wolfwood. Tohru had collapsed at the far end of the track. "Not again," Anderson muttered as Wolfwood followed. "Not to worry, Wolfwood. The harder they are in training, the better they are in battle. Happens every time."

Tohru had sprawled out face first in the dirt and was unconscious. Anderson scooped her up in his arms and carried off to a tent that had been set up to treat various exercise maladies, such as exhaustion and heat stoke. He set the girl down on a foldout table while a bored looking medic got up to attend Tohru.

Wolfwood replaced the broken cigarette in his mouth with a new one and shook his head slowly. "You're going to send her at something weak first, right? Just in case she turns out to be a normal girl."

Anderson shook his head. "No. I had thought about it, but then I decided that it was best not to mess around. If Hellsing hears about her slaying vampires, they'll be ready for her. My plan is to train her, and then send her at that Alucard straight away."

Wolfwood looked at the girl, the eyelids covering her large eyes were fluttering as she slowly regained consciousness. The medic who had put an ice pack on her head had gone back to reading a copy of Nun Monthly and was sipping some tea. "Of course you'll call me when you take the girl to get killed, right?" Wolfwood said as he turned to leave.

Anderson didn't respond, he merely glared at Wolfwood. Knowing that was about all they had to say to one another, Wolfwood left, hoping he might be able to at least give the girl her last rites, if not save her from Alucard or some other horrid Hellsing minion altogether.

To be continued…