Chapter Twelve
It is always more difficult to fight against faith than against knowledge. — Adolf Hitler
It was 1 a.m., and Heinkel was exhausted. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be going to bed any time soon. She, Dorian, Seras, and Integra were currently barricaded in the head of Hellsing's office, the humans guzzling copious amounts of coffee in a futile attempt to remain alert (the butler's laced with brandy). Seras was her normal overly cheerful self, chattering away as though she hadn't a care in the world. Secretly, Heinkel was grateful that caffeine had no effect on vampires; a hyped-up Victoria would be downright terrifying.
She smothered a yawn, glancing at the clock to see that exactly one minute had passed—though it seemed much longer; time had a way of slowing when you were tired. And after a long training session with the recruits, followed by several hours scouring the streets for any sign of the London Slasher (with a quick detour to avert a terrorist attack at Buckingham Palace), Heinkel was beat. Only years of training kept her from falling asleep right then and there.
Her companions were in a similar state; Dorian's usually immaculate uniform was creased and the wrinkles lining his face were even more pronounced than usual: making him seem impossibly old and weary. And despite her stoic demeanor, there were shadows under Integra's eyes; her carefully coiffed hair was mussed. The lack of progress in the hunt for London's newest serial killer had taken its toll on the head of Hellsing.
Since her near capture, the witch had been more cautious in committing her crimes, just as Heinkel had feared. However, she'd still managed to strike twice more, with the public becoming increasingly fearful as the police failed to apprehend the culprit. A protest at Whitehall became a riot; and a woman was attacked on the subway when another passenger thought she seemed suspicious. At the time, informing the authorities of the killer's true gender seemed like a good idea—a way to put people on their guard—but now, Heinkel regretted her decision; London's female residents had enough to fear without being accused of murder.
Blinking to focus her bleary eyes, she tried to distract herself by focusing on Integra 'brainstorming', which mainly consisted of Heinkel's boss muttering to herself while alternating between chain smoking and guzzling espresso black as her soul. Several hours ago, Integra had summoned them, announcing that no one would leave the office until they'd come up with a plan to capture the witch. So far, though, they had yet to devise a feasible proposal. All attempts to lure their prey out of hiding by using one of the recruits as bait had failed; and Seras was unable to track her, claiming the witch's spells interfered with her supernatural senses. Heinkel had no idea what had caused the barrier spell to fail, but it had obviously been a fluke, a mistake which wouldn't be repeated. She clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. I should have never let that bitch get away.
As if the murders weren't gruesome enough on their own, each death brought the enchantress that much closer to resurrecting the Major; and if that were to happen, everything they'd fought so hard for would be lost. For with their leader restored, Millennium's unholy legions would gleefully wreak havoc on London once more—only this time, Hellsing might not be able to stop them. If only they knew where the Nazi scum was hiding…
Integra sighed, looking as exhausted as Heinkel felt. "If we had more information, we might actually have a chance of determining Millennium's location, or at least discovering some way to fight them. But there's almost nothing about them in Hellsing's records."
Heinkel sat up so fast her head spun, gloomy thoughts forgotten. Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner? "There's a file in the Vatican Archives."
Integra's eyebrows rose. "In the Vatican? You mean…"
Heinkel took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say. Yet even as she tried to reassure herself that she wasn't betraying the Church, the words left a sour taste in her mouth. "I can retrieve it."
Integra was silent, considering. Finally, she said, "How long will it take?"
"Three days."
Privately, Heinkel doubted it would take that long, but she'd learned to learn to reserve time for unexpected developments. That way, even if she ran into trouble, she wouldn't disgrace herself by arriving late. Besides, three days away from Seras and her Little Miss Sunshine act would be a welcome reprieve.
Before Integra could respond, though, Dorian broke in. "My lady, you can't possibly be considering such an outlandish proposal. How do we know she won't betray us to the Vatican at the first opportunity?" From his position at Integra's side, he gave Heinkel a look of pure hatred.
She smirked, feeling a flicker of satisfaction when the old man's cheeks reddened. Someone's had a little too much brandy. "If I were going to betray you, I wouldn't ask your permission first, Protestant."
Integra lit another cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke that made Heinkel's throat itch and her eyes water. "She has a point." When Dorian began to protest, she added, "Do you have a better idea?"
The butler's shoulders slumped; and Seras gave him a sympathetic look (which the old man ignored). "No, my lady. My apologies for speaking out of turn."
"I think it's a good idea." Seras chimed in. "I've always wanted to see St. Peter's—"
Heinkel cut her off. "You're not going."
The vampire visibly deflated. "But you can't go alone; it's too dangerous." She gave Integra a pleading look, but the head of Hellsing remained silent, her gaze studying Heinkel's face.
Heinkel forced herself to remain expressionless, even though she wanted to squirm under Integra's scrutiny. I can't give her any reason to suspect me. "Vampires can't enter the city; it's sacred ground."
That much was true, although it was far from the only reason she wanted to handle the mission solo. She may have been (temporarily) working for Hellsing, but that didn't mean Heinkel would allow a vampire to enter one of the most hallowed places in all of Christendom. Besides, she had plans for this particular excursion: plans Integra must remain unaware of. Seras might be an idiot, but even she was bound to notice Heinkel's extracurricular activities.
"I've entered churches before." Seras argued. "It makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I can handle it."
Protestants. Heinkel rolled her eyes, begging God for the patience to deal with this idiot. "The Vatican is no mere Church; it's one of the holiest places on earth. Even if entering it doesn't kill you, it will put you out of commission for a long time."
"But—"
To Heinkel's surprise, it was Integra who overrode the vampire's protests. "Seras, we need you here. With both of you gone, the city would be virtually defenseless." Her tone made it clear this wasn't up for discussion.
She's letting me go on my own? Hellsing must not be as sharp as she looks.
Seras was frowning, but she nodded, accepting her master's orders like the dog she was. "I understand. Heinkel…promise you'll be careful."
Who does she think she's fooling? If something happens to me, Victoria will be the first to celebrate.
Heinkel snapped,"I'm not the one you should be worried about." Before Seras could respond, she turned to Integra. "I'll leave at sundown tomorrow."
Already preoccupied with her next responsibility, Hellsing's leader only nodded, scribbling into the leather-bound notebook in front of her; Heinkel made a mental note to 'borrow' it when she returned, as it undoubtedly contained many of Hellsing's darkest secrets. "Dorian will make the necessary arrangements."
Lips curving in a dangerous grin, Heinkel replied, "There's no need. Someone in Rome owes me a favor…"
