Moonlit Midnight

Chapter 6

Integral overlooked the loading of Hellsing's trucks with a calm, even eye. This would be their first full scale operation since the disaster at the Tower of London, and it would be a lie to say she wasn't concerned. Not because of Jacob's warnings—though she always took his advice to heart, she was determined not to let his worries affect her. The operation would be high profile with a great danger of civilian intervention: an hour earlier, she had been contacted on behalf of Oxford University's Dean of Students. As far as her reports would relate, the campus had been sealed off due to a disturbance of unknown origin—that being the presence of ghouls, she speculated.

"Teenage vampires," Integra snorted. "They must be fresh. Always the worst kind."

Walter stepped up beside her, giving a short bow. "The troops have been prepared, Lady Integra. Miss Victoria is waiting for you to speak to her, as per your request. No one has seen Sir Alucard sine I last spoke with him, this morning."

Integra pursed her lips. "I see. He couldn't still be asleep at this hour." She glanced across Hellsing's grounds just in time to see Jacob Zimmerman boarding one of the trucks; he wasn't wearing his usual brown suit. He was armed. She snorted. "He'll hear from me later. For now, we should be able to manage. He'll show up when he feels like it, as always." She turned to face her retainer squarely. "Tell me about Agent Victoria."

"I've had to change her status as an officer," Walter reported crisply. "Mr. Zimmerman reported that she is no longer able to move about in dawn and twilight hours. IT may be only temporary—Sir Alucard was not concerned."

"If she's changing, it will need to be investigated," Integra mused. "But we don't have the time now."

"Do you still want to talk to her?"

"No. I'll speak to her after this operation is complete." Integra turned away, heading toward the awaiting vehicle. "Just make sure she's ready for tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."

---

Celas shifted her weight uncertainly from foot to foot, the Halconnen Cannon clasped tightly to her side as she waited. She'd awoken for duty that night only to have Walter summon her to participate in a real operation. But after the briefing she hadn't been dismissed to join the others, and now this waiting was making her nervous. She was thoroughly relieved when Walter called her over.

"It's all right," he said with a gentle smile. "Please join the unit now. Commander Wellerune is waiting."

Celas nodded, hefting her weapon and being quick to board the truck with her comrades. The American soldiers among them eyed her weapon doubtfully. She only smiled shyly and ducked her head. Were she in better spirits she might have remarked. But she couldn't sense Alucard's familiar presence, which merely reminded her….

"You have a lot to learn, Celas Victoria."

She shook her head; this mission was important, and she couldn't afford to be distracted.

--

By the time Hellsing reached the scene of its newest mission, the University had already been surrounded by local authorities and several representatives from the media. Celas watched all the people shifting about with some degree of awe and dread; this amount of publicity wouldn't be good for Hellsing's current reputation. She wondered vaguely what Lady Integra must have thought of it all—and Alucard, were he even here.

Commander Wellerune stepped outside; the soldiers remained, chatting quietly among themselves as they awaited their orders. Celas checked her weapon again out of nervous habit. Something didn't quite feel right; her stomach was twisting anxiously, and her fingertips felt hot. She had fought worse battles than this—there was no need for concern, especially with the soldiers from Mithril 6 backing them up. Still, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her gut.

Several minutes later the transport was boarded again, this time by Jacob Zimmerman. Celas ducked slightly to keep from being spotted, though the effort was somewhat laughable considering her telltale weaponry. He called her up to the front, and she had no choice but to comply. "Sir?"

"Miss Victoria," he greeted in a clipped, militaristic manner. She was a bit taken back, as he had seemed so much more laid back the other times she'd met him. His attire had changed as well; from the trimmed brown suit to tight fitting, solid black pants and sleeveless turtleneck. A pair of what appeared to be some kind of daggers was sheathed at the small of his back, and a pistol was strapped to his thigh. He looked like some kind of American comic character, and Celas couldn't help but stare. But by then he was talking, and she shook herself to listen.

"You're coming with my unit," he instructed briskly. "We're heading for the interior. Our reconnaissance shows they have a concentration of ghouls in there—that's your job. Understood?"

Celas straightened. She wasn't used to taking orders from this man, and there was something unnerving about it; he was watching her very closely. With the light from the surrounding vehicles glaring back at them, his eyes seemed to gleam unnaturally. "Yes, sir," she managed. "What about…the other officers?"

"They other squad is under the command of Wellerune, and if all goes well you won't have to worry about them." Jacob started away from the truck, and without thinking she obediently followed. "They're our support. Varjak and I will handle the vampires. You take the ghouls."

"Yes, sir." Celas pursed her lips and adjusted her grip on the Halconnen.

"Good. We'll work well together." He smiled over his shoulder at her, but the expression looked forced, and she returned it accordingly. As a pair they approached Integra, who was waiting with several of the local officers, along with Walter, Mark Sanfeld, and Agent Varjak. Celas grimaced beneath the latter's stare.

"Victoria," Integra greeted evenly. "I trust you've been briefed."

"Yes, Ma'am." She hesitated a moment before asking, "What about Master Alucard?"

Integra snorted derisively. "He'll show up when it suits him, and hear plenty from me about it."

"We won't need him anyway," Varjak interrupted tersely. "Let's just finish this."

Sanfeld placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. "The three of you together should be fine, but I have our van parked at the west entrance, in case you need it."

"Which means," Jacob added, "that you, Victoria, are not to go near it. You'd be in danger."

Celas nodded begrudgingly. "Yes, sir."

Integra glanced between the trio, seeming to be satisfied. "If you get into any trouble, radio immediately. We'll have a unit standing by to assist you."

Jacob flashed her a grin—looking much more like himself for that brief moment. "Roger." He slapped Varjak on the shoulder, who scowled, and started toward the police line. "We'll be back in an hour," he called.

Celas fell into step behind him, ducking under the sharp gazes of the surrounding police. They must have made up a very odd trio. And suddenly, despite all that had happened the night before, she was desperately wishing Alucard were there to look after her as promised.

--

Alucard seated himself elegantly on the roof of the Hellsing Institute, watching the slow progress of mist-like clouds over a too brought half-moon. He was smiling and in good spirits. How simple it was to elude his master—though he could never disobey her directly, she couldn't give him orders if she couldn't find him. Of course, this weak freedom would not last long. His prison walls were solidly in place, and when Integra called for him he would have no choice but to comply. Which she had a habit of not doing until the last moment.

The vampire grinned, revealing sharpened fangs. Despite all the anxious energy boiling beneath his surface, he managed not to fidget or stir. Far away, on the edge of his sense, he could still taste the faint, familiar fragrance of his female officer. "Forgive me, Celas Victoria," he chuckled, tilting his head down as a new figure stepped out onto the Institute steps. His grin widened. "I don't mean to disappoint you."

---

The Halconnen shell exploded on impact, scattering half a dozen of the changed ghouls in all directions. The upper torso of one such creature landed at Celas's feet; she crushed its skull under her boot. "I'm going to do this," she told herself deftly, loading another projectile to incinerate the remaining enemies. She lifted her weapon with one hand and fired. "I'm going to take care of myself. I can do this." Pressing her lips thin she investigated, finishing off the ghouls with boots and fists. They were a tough breed—they had greater stamina than the freak-bred ghouls they'd fought at Hellsing, or in the Tower of London. Real vampires had made these.

"They're students," Jacob said thoughtfully behind her. He nudged a smoldering corpse with his feet. "Most of them are barely clothed—they were sleeping when this happened."

Beside him, Varjak cast her gaze across the courtyard. "It's quiet," she murmured. "There's more than one vampire here—they're hiding. WE should have been attacked by now."

"I agree. And I don't like it." He stayed very still, as if waiting for something. A full minute had passed before he spoke again. "Agent Victoria. Varjak." He sent the latter a meaningful stare. "Split up and search the dorms for survivors. And keep track of all the ghouls you kill—we'll need to deliver the list to the Dean once we're through."

"Yes, sir," both complied. Celas started to leave, then paused when she realized Jacob wasn't moving. Varjak wasn't commenting, as would have seemed natural for her. Something was going on. She snorted to herself as she continued on her assigned mission, approaching one of the dorms. "Damn Americans, making plans without me." She rolled her eyes. "I'm an officer too, you know."

Celas quieted down when she approached close enough to see the "gentlemen only" sign posted on the dormitory door. She gulped quietly, even though it was a ridiculous concern. Having never attended college, she'd never been in a dorm, let alone a boy's dorm. With a deep breath she pushed inside.

---

Lorenna swept into the Institute without flourish or announcement, unnoticed by the officers left behind as sentries. They saw only a shadow of her passing—a wisp of cloud, of dull, clear vapor not unlike a trail of thin steam. Some did not see the gentle shimmer against the night; some mistook it for the passing of their own, tamed vampire. Only one was given cause for alarm, and was silenced without incident in a flash of silent fangs. The mist then swept on, descending through labyrinthine stone corridors, deeper into Hellsing's dungeon.

Alucard, now poised on the edge of his coffin, lifted his head expectantly as the door to his chambers swung open. He blinked slowly at the form revealed. "Is that the style in America now?" he chuckled. "Charming."

Lorenna stepped forward into dim candlelight. She was dressed simply, in a short, black skirt and low cut red velvet halter-top. She grinned subtly as he rose to meet her. "This is your first date in a hundred years," she teased. "I wanted to look good for you."

"We didn't call it 'dating' back then." Alucard watched with amusement as she removed his hat and glasses for him. "It was 'courtship.'"

"That's hardly what this is, though," she calmly retorted. Her eyes were gleaming and bright as she leaned into him, curling the fingers from one hand with his. The feel of the seals scrawled across his gloves was almost burning, and with a quiet snort she thrust her thumb through the center of his palm; even if it wasn't enough to disturb the markings on its other side. Alucard didn't flinch, only watching as she lifted his bloodied hand to her lips. She grinned. "I suppose you could say it's more like a one night stand."

Alucard chuckled again, turning his wrist so that his blood fell more easily into her waiting mouth. "How inelegant." He tugged her forward slowly, deliberately, and sunk his teeth into her full lips. He pulled back only after licking them clean. "Perhaps we'd best not presume to determine labels."

Lorenna grinned. "Yes, perhaps you're right," she murmured, as she leaned in for a proper kiss.

--

The dormitory was eerily quiet; for a building that usually held over two hundred people, finding it empty was creepier than she'd expected. She searched a few rooms on the first floor and found nothing, save that the doors were either unlocked or kicked in, and more rooms showed sign of a struggle. There were, oddly enough, no ghouls about. With this many people being turned, they should have been crawling all over. The second floor was the same. "Where is everyone?" Celas complained as she moved upstairs. "Americans and their plans. This was a grand idea."

When Celas stepped onto the third floor, however, something twisted in her stomach. It was a familiar, urgent excitement—there was a vampire here. She immediately fell silent as she crept down the hall. Though she would have liked to be frustrated with her body's increasingly severe reactions, it was actually a convenient warning. Her hands tightened around the Halconnen. "I know you're in here," she murmured. As soon as the vampire showed up, she would have to lead it back to Jacob; the cannon would be too slow to hit it. Gulping, she continued forward.

She only made it a few more steps down the hall when a pair of footfalls echoed down to her. She spun about, not knowing what to expect. The attack came from behind. A heavy force slammed into her back, and she stumbled but didn't fall—a hand snatched her shoulder a moment later and dragged her back. The Halconnen was wrenched from her grasp as she was thrown face first into the nearest wall. It all happened before she could take in a full breath, and before she realized what had happened she was pressed up against cold plaster, wrists pinned, a firm body holding her in place.

"Keep quiet," a low, familiar voice hissed in her ear. The feeling of cold breath made her tremble. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Celas gasped softly when she realized who was holding her captive. "Ballerant! What are you—"

"Quiet," he snapped, and involuntarily she flinched and did so. He waited a few seconds to make sure she kept still. "Good. I'm going to let you go. Keep your voice down and don't try to fight me. You know I'm stronger than you."

Celas clenched her fists and nodded. Slowly Ballerant released her wrists. He did not, however, step back as far as she thought he ought to have; he was close enough that she couldn't have leaned forward at all without hitting him. She pressed her back against the wall in hopes of gaining some space. "What's going on?" she demanded. "What are you doing here?"

Ballerant snorted. "I told you to keep your voice down," he reminded her. "And I do intend to explain, but I won't be able to if you waste time complaining. Come with me." He stepped abruptly away, crossing the hall to an open, empty room. Though Celas hated to give him the satisfaction of her obedience, she followed.

"Your soldiers will be here soon, so I must be brief," the vampire said briskly as he moved to the window. "It's against my better judgment to tell a Hellsing officer anything, but Alucard insisted that I look out for you."

"Master did?" Celas stared at him blankly, a thrill of heat running through her. She ducked her head. "But…why? Where is…?"

She trailed off when Ballerant merely looked at her. She knew very well where Alucard was, whom he was with. They both knew now. Celas took a step back in disbelief. "No, but Master—"

'Zimmerman already knows why we're here," Ballerant was saying, and she fell silent in frustration. She joined him hesitantly as the window and followed his gaze to where Jacob stood alone in the courtyard. "We're buying time. He must have realized by now—he always does. But he can't do anything, because he won't leave as long as we're here. His only choice is to kill us and trust Alucard. He knows that."

"Where are the students?" Celas asked softly. She wanted to be defiant, or appalled, or anything other than the timid uncertainty and confusion she was now. "Why aren't there any ghouls here?"

"There was no need to turn them all," Ballerant replied, as if it were obvious. "The third rule of Lorenna's following is to feed only when hungry. We changed as many as was necessary to lure all of Hellsing here, and herded the rest into the basements."

Celas took another step back. "You're lying," she challenged, though she still could not raise her voice to any semblance of courage. "Vampires aren't—"

"A vampire that kills its own ahs no right to tell me what our kind is and is not," he interrupted. "We're here for our master, and that's what matters. I'll no ask you to understand. Look." He indicated the window.

Celas moved closer again reluctantly. Jacob was still in the courtyard, this time not alone; a squad of soldiers was stopped with him. Jacob spoke to them swiftly and pointed toward the dorm they were in. With a quiet gasp Celas pushed away from the window. If she was found conversing so easily with her supposed target….

Before the soldiers could follow their instructions, however, there was a scream among them, and Celas found herself again pressed against the window. It was the teenager from the hotel room the other night; he struck with spectacular speed, smashing the skulls of two of the guards together before the others could turn to fire. He then retreated into the shadows between a pair of nearby buildings.

Celas bit her lip; she couldn't stay here any longer. Whatever was really going on—whatever…Alucard was thinking—these were her comrades, and she couldn't stand idly by anymore. Even if it meant fighting…her own kind. While Ballerant appeared distracted by the battle she sprinted abruptly out into the hall. Her hand closed tightly around her Halconnen. In an instant she'd spun about, weapon ready to fire as soon as Ballerant emerged. But he didn't come out, even as gunfire continued to rattle outside. Eyes narrowing in determination Celas investigated, only to find the vampire having fled.

"Damn him." Celas shouldered the cannon and smashed the window open; it was only the third story, and as she'd learned, dropping to the ground gave her little trouble. There she stopped, sharpening her senses for any sign of the vampire. It was no use—he was gone. "Coward." Scowling, Celas joined her comrades as they awaited the appearance of the second target.

"Hold your fire!" Jacob ordered. Once the gunfire had died down he signaled for silence and walked forward several steps. He rested a hand on the handle of his dagger. "All of you, don't fire unless I say so."

Celas frowned at the man. If he planned to right the vampire alone, he was making a foolish mistake. When she started to speak, however, he was already raising his radio to his lips. "Varjak. Where are you?"

"Right here, sir," came the clipped response.

It was no kind of answer, but Jacob nodded as if he understood, and tossed the radio back to Celas. "Don't interfere," he warned without facing her.

Celas bristled. "Sir, I don't know what you're implying, but—"

This time Jacob did look back; his eyes were gleaming and cold. "As soon as we're done here, I'm reporting you," he told her sternly. She blinked, and caught herself before she could take a step back. "I know you've spoken to Mephistos. I know where she is."

Celas didn't have the chance to reply. As soon as Jacob stopped speaking a shadow darted out across the courtyard, racing toward him. With greater speed than Celas had thought a human capable of he turned, firing off several shorts from the pistol she never saw him draw. The vampire dodged, and closed in with a hand outstretched.

Celas's finger curled involuntarily around the trigger of her cannon, but she didn't fire yet. There was hardly any time to. Jacob moved; she couldn't well see what he'd done, but in a flurry of silver and gun smoke the vampire's arm was severed, and he fell back, growling. The shot that split his skull open came from behind. The vampire reeled; Jacob charged, his second dagger flying from its sheath to bury in its heart. Celas could only stare as their target creamed, incinerated by another barrage of close range gunfire.

It…hadn't even taken a full minute. Jacob took a step back and flicked the bits of ash off his daggers; every movement smooth, almost casual, as if he had done nothing more extraordinary than taking out his garbage. Celas jumped a little when he plucked the radio from her. "Varjak. Nice shot."

"Screw you, Zimmerman. I'm coming in."

"Roger."

Celas fidgeted nervously. He…had promised to report her; he couldn't have known all that she was trying to hide. There was simply no way.

But when Jacob turned, when his eyes fell on her, she shrank away. Something almost snapped inside her. "You're…." She gulped, stepping back further. "You're not human."

Jacob marched forward, taking her sharply by the arm. She couldn't help but cringe at the strength of that grip. "Last night you and Alucard killed three vampires," he said darkly. "You told me there were no Americans—you lied."

"But I—" Celas started to protest.

"You lied," he repeated. "I know you, vampire—I know you lied. And then you asked me something."

Celas tried to pull away—the soldiers were staring at them, and Varjak was approaching with a sneer. She remembered; she'd asked him about love. If vampires could love. "Mr. Zimmerman, please, I—"

"She's here—that was her vampire, wasn't it? She's already contacted Alucard. Hasn't she?"

"Zimmerman," Varjak interrupted angrily. "What the hell is going on?"

Jacob didn't answer at first—he was watching Celas with a piercing gaze. She couldn't bring herself to pull away, to even breathe. At long last she lowered her head. "I'm…I'm sorry."

At first he didn't seem satisfied, and she winced, expecting more of his questions. Even though he already knew. To her relief he let her go. But then he was raising the radio to his mouth again, and her apprehension returned. "Integra, we've been played," he said quickly. "Mephistos isn't here, but I know where she is."

"What's going on?" Integra demanded on the other end. "What do you mean, 'she'?"

"I'll explain later. Leave a squad to clean up the rest of the ghouls—we have to get back to Hellsing."

There was a long pause on the other end, and in that silence Jacob turned to Celas. "Give your weapon to Agent Weiss," he instructed.

Celas returned his gaze with attempted defiance. But when he stepped toward her again she lost her nerve, and reluctantly complied. She smiled a little when the soldier nearly fell over from the weight of it. Her humor fled once more, however, when Jacob said, "Agent Varjak, take Miss Victoria into custody."

"What?" Celas exclaimed. "I'm a Hellsing officer. You have no right—"

Jacob's radio sparked to life and cut her off. "There's been no report at Hellsing," Integra was saying tersely. "I don't know what you're thinking, but—"

"Alucard still isn't here," he persisted. He made a motion towards Varjak, who stepped forward with a snort and drew her gun. The barrel dug harshly into Celas's temple. "The vampire's been taken care of—this was a distraction. I guarantee you, Mephistos is already there."

Another pause, shorter than the first. Celas shifted in disbelief of all that was happening. If they returned to Hellsing, if they found Lorenna with Alucard…. She shuddered, glancing around the courtyard in panic. Somehow, Jacob knew. And it was her fault. "Master…."

"We're pulling out," came Integra's voice at last. "Tell the squad there to remain—we're leaving a small detachment. Get back here with your agent Victoria."

"On our way." Jacob flicked his radio off and turned to Agent Weiss. Without too much trouble he lifted Celas's cannon over his shoulders. "Keep your eye on her," he instructed Varjak as he started out of the courtyard.

"Yes, sir." Varjak grinned humorlessly and jabbed the barrel of her gun into her captive's back. "Come on," she prodded, enjoying her assignment too much. "Get moving, blood sucker."

Celas bit her lip and complied; she could at least attempt to retain some dignity. As they walked, she watched Jacob's back—the shift of muscle, the unfaltering stride. "He's not human," she half-murmured to herself.

"Not quite," Varjak agreed contemptuously. She, too, glared after him, her eyes narrowed and grim. "They say his mother was turned just after birthing him. Baby raised on a vampire's milk—vampire's blood. He's no better than one of them, as far as I'm concerned."

Celas frowned. "But that's…not possible. Isn't it?" She abandoned her inquires when she saw Jacob's gait shift; he had heard them. She dropped her gaze. So Jacob Zimmerman wasn't quite human after all. That didn't explain very much, but she had more important things to worry about. "Master…." She closed her eyes briefly, though she couldn't begin to imagine what she was hoping for. Everything was spinning around her too swiftly. All she could do was pray everything would turn out all right.

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