Integra warned me the next week about plans for a fancy dinner meeting of
the Round Table.
"A dinner meeting? What sort of organization have we become then?" I asked.
"The sort that needs the backing of a few select rich patrons, chosen by the Round Table. Do you object?"
"Why should I care?"
As a matter of fact, the dinner fit in perfectly with my plans. I sent a note off that very evening.
In the meantime, I was forced once again to watch Jackson absolutely doting on Integra. Really, the whole thing had become just sickening. He did everything but cut up her food and feed it to her. And I was fairly certain she was still dressing herself. She didn't seem to mind; in fact she seemed to encourage his attentions. I tried to talk to Walter about it but he merely shrugged and said it was good for Integra. Seras actually went so far as to call Jackson "cute" at which point I decided never to speak to her on the subject again.
I couldn't seem to have a conversation with Integra alone either; he was always there, interrupting me. He still seemed to do everything but actually act as a bodyguard. I was happy with Integra's decision to stay off the front lines, she had put herself in extreme danger too often, but I was angry that it seemed to keep Jackson out of trouble.
The evening of the dinner meeting I was quite excited. I was not expected to attend, but I walked by the door several times to see the seating plan. Jackson was seated separately from Integra for once, which worked out excellently.
Finally, after all the guests were inside and seated, a worried Walter approached me to announce an arrival unexpected to him but very welcome to me: Father Alexander Anderson.
I grinned. "Send him up here, Walter."
"But the dinner meeting is going on."
"Send him up here anyway." Walter could tell I was plotting something, but in the end he gave in, and soon I saw the priest himself coming around the corner. As he saw me he drew a silver knife and began to run. I had known I would not have to mince words, but this was going better than I had thought. I ran into the banquet room with Anderson after me.
The uproar began as soon as we entered, with Round Table members drawing guns or running out the other doors. A few unarmed people, probably potential rich patrons, ran even faster. I wanted to be sure Integra wasn't in any danger, but she was simply standing in a corner looking bored. I knew Anderson wouldn't go after her so I continued to lure him into the room.
When I had a clear shot I fired at Anderson but it didn't even slow him down. Soon I spied my real target: Jackson, who was still sitting at a table looking wide-eyed and frightened. He hadn't even drawn his gun. I ran straight past him and stood behind his chair, taunting Anderson. Anderson ran up, knocked over the chair, and stepped on Jackson. I had been hoping Jackson would get a silver bayonet shoved somewhere embarrassing but this was good enough. Jackson rolled under a table and began to whimper.
Finally Integra stepped out of the corner with her gun. By now the Round Table members and any rich prospects had fled the room. She aimed the gun at Anderson.
"Father Anderson, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to go back to the Vatican or wherever it is you go when you're not trying to kill Alucard. Alucard, I'll deal with you later." Then, without even turning to face the table, she said, "Jackson, it's all over now, you may crawl away."
I had done enough for one day. I walked out and waited, not without nervousness, for Integra's retribution.
(Sorry this was a bit short but it moved quickly I hope. There will be an epilogue!)
"A dinner meeting? What sort of organization have we become then?" I asked.
"The sort that needs the backing of a few select rich patrons, chosen by the Round Table. Do you object?"
"Why should I care?"
As a matter of fact, the dinner fit in perfectly with my plans. I sent a note off that very evening.
In the meantime, I was forced once again to watch Jackson absolutely doting on Integra. Really, the whole thing had become just sickening. He did everything but cut up her food and feed it to her. And I was fairly certain she was still dressing herself. She didn't seem to mind; in fact she seemed to encourage his attentions. I tried to talk to Walter about it but he merely shrugged and said it was good for Integra. Seras actually went so far as to call Jackson "cute" at which point I decided never to speak to her on the subject again.
I couldn't seem to have a conversation with Integra alone either; he was always there, interrupting me. He still seemed to do everything but actually act as a bodyguard. I was happy with Integra's decision to stay off the front lines, she had put herself in extreme danger too often, but I was angry that it seemed to keep Jackson out of trouble.
The evening of the dinner meeting I was quite excited. I was not expected to attend, but I walked by the door several times to see the seating plan. Jackson was seated separately from Integra for once, which worked out excellently.
Finally, after all the guests were inside and seated, a worried Walter approached me to announce an arrival unexpected to him but very welcome to me: Father Alexander Anderson.
I grinned. "Send him up here, Walter."
"But the dinner meeting is going on."
"Send him up here anyway." Walter could tell I was plotting something, but in the end he gave in, and soon I saw the priest himself coming around the corner. As he saw me he drew a silver knife and began to run. I had known I would not have to mince words, but this was going better than I had thought. I ran into the banquet room with Anderson after me.
The uproar began as soon as we entered, with Round Table members drawing guns or running out the other doors. A few unarmed people, probably potential rich patrons, ran even faster. I wanted to be sure Integra wasn't in any danger, but she was simply standing in a corner looking bored. I knew Anderson wouldn't go after her so I continued to lure him into the room.
When I had a clear shot I fired at Anderson but it didn't even slow him down. Soon I spied my real target: Jackson, who was still sitting at a table looking wide-eyed and frightened. He hadn't even drawn his gun. I ran straight past him and stood behind his chair, taunting Anderson. Anderson ran up, knocked over the chair, and stepped on Jackson. I had been hoping Jackson would get a silver bayonet shoved somewhere embarrassing but this was good enough. Jackson rolled under a table and began to whimper.
Finally Integra stepped out of the corner with her gun. By now the Round Table members and any rich prospects had fled the room. She aimed the gun at Anderson.
"Father Anderson, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to go back to the Vatican or wherever it is you go when you're not trying to kill Alucard. Alucard, I'll deal with you later." Then, without even turning to face the table, she said, "Jackson, it's all over now, you may crawl away."
I had done enough for one day. I walked out and waited, not without nervousness, for Integra's retribution.
(Sorry this was a bit short but it moved quickly I hope. There will be an epilogue!)