Assessment
~
Order 2: Section one. London, England 1963.
~
In a long, dark room somewhere in the expansive Hellsing mansion, a dozen men and women sat as they were briefed by a figure that was pacing at the front of the room, occasionally pointing to an image on a slide-screen as he spoke.
"FREAKs are artificial vampires, as I'm sure all of you know. They are humans that have been implanted with a microchip that extends through their body, augments it, and changes their functions. Their appetites become focused on, presumably, the consumption of iron - which has been extracted from them during their mutation." Walter said, tapping idly at an image of FREAK chip on the screen. "A human's blood contains an iron protein complex called Ferritin; 12 micrograms of it per litre."
He switched the image to show one of a dead man, badly mutilated, his face twisted in a look of pure horror, an eye hanging limply from its socket. There was a collective intake of breath around the room. Walter looked apologetically at them, and momentarily locked eyes with a woman at the front of the table before he continued to speak.
"The average full grown adult has five litres of blood coursing through his or her veins." He murmured, carefully considering the image. "Which isn't even a gram of food, but is usually enough to sustain a FREAK Vampire, even with their particularly violent behavioural patterns."
He glanced around the room, where the twelve others were staring at him with rapt attention.
"Over the last few months, the FREAKs have become increasingly difficult to take down, as have their ghouls. The chips have been changed - a version 2.0 if you will."
There was a long pause. It wasn't a pause of the comfortable sort, but more a pause that would be the precursor to dreadful news.
"Recently one of our squadrons went out on the field - Squadron two-eighty- three - there were eight of them - and they never returned. Our job is to find them. Two groups are being sent out today, Squadron four-eight-eight, Captain Vivian Meadows." Walter again made eye contact with the woman at the front of the table.
Vivian smiled widely at him, and winked, causing the raven-haired man to choke on his words a moment before regaining his composure. "And, um," he said, "Sergeant Smith of the American troops will be - will be joining them on this mission, as he was sent here recently by his government to view Hellsing's method of retrieval."
Walter gestured to a man sitting in one of the darker corners, staring darkly at the troops. It was well known that in recent years the American troops were at arms with the Hellsing Organization. Smith had really been sent to find any sort of faulty in their operation.
"And my own Squadron, three-two-six, will be accompanying them."
By this point, there was a high level of tension in the room; many of the marines were staring fixedly at the table or glaring at the man in the corner. A smile cracked across Walter's young face as he watched his friends and allies sitting together for what would be the last time.
"And I expect every one of you bastards to return alive."
.
End Section
.
~
Order 2: Section two. London, England, 2003.
~
The sun had risen fully over London that spring morning and should have greeted the city with golden rays of light, but had instead clouded over. The sky was blotted with slate grey clouds that crackled ominously with spikes of ragged lightning; there was no breeze, giving the air surrounding a feeling of foreboding.
And, somewhere within the dark recesses of the Hellsing Organization Manor, a similar atmosphere had been attained in a less subtle manner.
"Five!"
The voice echoed angrily off the oak paneled walls of Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing's office. She sat behind her wide desk, eyes like ice narrowed to slits behind her flashing lenses.
"An entire crew sent for clean up and they managed to overlook five bodies!"
Her gloved hands were set firmly upon the tabletop as she spoke, tensing fingers creasing the parchment beneath them.
While the occurrences of the previous night's mission did indeed have much to do with Integra's current rage, it was only one of the reasons. The other reason currently sat perched upon a lavishly decorated red velvet arm chair.
Being the constant fuel to Integra's rage, and well aware of it, Alucard sat casually; his wiry limbs draped across the chair, one hand holding a quarter-cup of red wine.(1) A grin hung on his pallid features, ghastly beneath the shadows of his wide-brimmed tando.
"You think this is funny, Vampire?" She turned her penetrating gaze onto him. "That because of this carelessness, a six year old child stumbled upon a human head while playing in a park?"
His smile widened on one side, revealing the razor point of a glimmering canine. (2)
"Not at all, Master." He said calmly. He waved a hand languidly in the air, as if he were drawing an image in it. "You've merely misinterpreted my early morning cheer."
As always, Alucard had picked the wrong time to try to be cute, and Integra was abruptly on her feet, giving him a stare that would make Satan shiver. A finger pointed accusingly at him.
"You -"
But her line of thought wasn't continued; and much to Alucard's disappointment, he didn't find out exactly what she thought he was. A soft voice spoke from a spot that had been vacant mere seconds ago.
"Sir Integra,"
Integra stared at the figure she hadn't heard enter the room, her expression didn't waver. Alucard gazed over his shoulder and lifted his glass a little in greeting, giving him an almost disjointed appearance - no one should have been able to bend the ways Alucard did; it put into mind the stretch-man action figures.
Walter bowed slightly from his current post at the doorway.
"I am terribly sorry to intrude, but the dental analyses of the bodies found earlier have arrived."
"Bring it here." Integra said, sitting down again, Alucard forgotten.
Walter crossed the room and set a manila folder down on Integra's desk, stepping back.
The previous night, several troops had been sent to silence a target that had managed to acquire multiple ghouls in the park the bodies had been found. Afterwards, a sterilization crew had been sent to clean the scene. That morning, the entire park looked as if the crew hadn't even shown up.
She set the papers out on the desk; each was a dental print with an image of its owner clipped to the top of the page. She looked intently at them, and Alucard appeared at her shoulder, looking only vaguely interested in the images.
"Stop that." Integra growled, pushing her palm into Alucard's face and moving him away from the ear he had been breathing on. Alucard merely grinned, pleased with the reaction. He straightened up again, unfazed, and Walter could have sworn that Alucard winked conspiratorially at him from under his orange-tinted goggles before disappearing through the floorboards.
There was a long, heavy silence as Integra scanned over the information. Suddenly she lifted a hand, and twitched a beckoning finger to Walter.
"Do these people look familiar to you?" She asked, as Walter crossed around the desk to observe the images she was gesturing to. There were five of them. He looked at the Hellsing-Issued Identification cards, then at the images taken from the morgue.
He looked back to the cards and turned an unusual shade of white before he spoke shakily.
"Four-eight-eight."
.
End Section
.
*
(1) At least, it appeared to be wine, and somewhere in the back of Integra's head, she really, truly hoped it was wine. (2) Cudos to anyone who caught the irony of this statement.
*
Note from the Author:
The Donut is very grateful for all the kind reviews and is more than willing to accept flames, as she can always use a good laugh and extra tinder. She will continue to refer to herself in third person as a shtick which will likely run thin and result in her being beaten around the head with blunt objects. Because, you know, blunt objects are fun.
~
Order 2: Section one. London, England 1963.
~
In a long, dark room somewhere in the expansive Hellsing mansion, a dozen men and women sat as they were briefed by a figure that was pacing at the front of the room, occasionally pointing to an image on a slide-screen as he spoke.
"FREAKs are artificial vampires, as I'm sure all of you know. They are humans that have been implanted with a microchip that extends through their body, augments it, and changes their functions. Their appetites become focused on, presumably, the consumption of iron - which has been extracted from them during their mutation." Walter said, tapping idly at an image of FREAK chip on the screen. "A human's blood contains an iron protein complex called Ferritin; 12 micrograms of it per litre."
He switched the image to show one of a dead man, badly mutilated, his face twisted in a look of pure horror, an eye hanging limply from its socket. There was a collective intake of breath around the room. Walter looked apologetically at them, and momentarily locked eyes with a woman at the front of the table before he continued to speak.
"The average full grown adult has five litres of blood coursing through his or her veins." He murmured, carefully considering the image. "Which isn't even a gram of food, but is usually enough to sustain a FREAK Vampire, even with their particularly violent behavioural patterns."
He glanced around the room, where the twelve others were staring at him with rapt attention.
"Over the last few months, the FREAKs have become increasingly difficult to take down, as have their ghouls. The chips have been changed - a version 2.0 if you will."
There was a long pause. It wasn't a pause of the comfortable sort, but more a pause that would be the precursor to dreadful news.
"Recently one of our squadrons went out on the field - Squadron two-eighty- three - there were eight of them - and they never returned. Our job is to find them. Two groups are being sent out today, Squadron four-eight-eight, Captain Vivian Meadows." Walter again made eye contact with the woman at the front of the table.
Vivian smiled widely at him, and winked, causing the raven-haired man to choke on his words a moment before regaining his composure. "And, um," he said, "Sergeant Smith of the American troops will be - will be joining them on this mission, as he was sent here recently by his government to view Hellsing's method of retrieval."
Walter gestured to a man sitting in one of the darker corners, staring darkly at the troops. It was well known that in recent years the American troops were at arms with the Hellsing Organization. Smith had really been sent to find any sort of faulty in their operation.
"And my own Squadron, three-two-six, will be accompanying them."
By this point, there was a high level of tension in the room; many of the marines were staring fixedly at the table or glaring at the man in the corner. A smile cracked across Walter's young face as he watched his friends and allies sitting together for what would be the last time.
"And I expect every one of you bastards to return alive."
.
End Section
.
~
Order 2: Section two. London, England, 2003.
~
The sun had risen fully over London that spring morning and should have greeted the city with golden rays of light, but had instead clouded over. The sky was blotted with slate grey clouds that crackled ominously with spikes of ragged lightning; there was no breeze, giving the air surrounding a feeling of foreboding.
And, somewhere within the dark recesses of the Hellsing Organization Manor, a similar atmosphere had been attained in a less subtle manner.
"Five!"
The voice echoed angrily off the oak paneled walls of Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing's office. She sat behind her wide desk, eyes like ice narrowed to slits behind her flashing lenses.
"An entire crew sent for clean up and they managed to overlook five bodies!"
Her gloved hands were set firmly upon the tabletop as she spoke, tensing fingers creasing the parchment beneath them.
While the occurrences of the previous night's mission did indeed have much to do with Integra's current rage, it was only one of the reasons. The other reason currently sat perched upon a lavishly decorated red velvet arm chair.
Being the constant fuel to Integra's rage, and well aware of it, Alucard sat casually; his wiry limbs draped across the chair, one hand holding a quarter-cup of red wine.(1) A grin hung on his pallid features, ghastly beneath the shadows of his wide-brimmed tando.
"You think this is funny, Vampire?" She turned her penetrating gaze onto him. "That because of this carelessness, a six year old child stumbled upon a human head while playing in a park?"
His smile widened on one side, revealing the razor point of a glimmering canine. (2)
"Not at all, Master." He said calmly. He waved a hand languidly in the air, as if he were drawing an image in it. "You've merely misinterpreted my early morning cheer."
As always, Alucard had picked the wrong time to try to be cute, and Integra was abruptly on her feet, giving him a stare that would make Satan shiver. A finger pointed accusingly at him.
"You -"
But her line of thought wasn't continued; and much to Alucard's disappointment, he didn't find out exactly what she thought he was. A soft voice spoke from a spot that had been vacant mere seconds ago.
"Sir Integra,"
Integra stared at the figure she hadn't heard enter the room, her expression didn't waver. Alucard gazed over his shoulder and lifted his glass a little in greeting, giving him an almost disjointed appearance - no one should have been able to bend the ways Alucard did; it put into mind the stretch-man action figures.
Walter bowed slightly from his current post at the doorway.
"I am terribly sorry to intrude, but the dental analyses of the bodies found earlier have arrived."
"Bring it here." Integra said, sitting down again, Alucard forgotten.
Walter crossed the room and set a manila folder down on Integra's desk, stepping back.
The previous night, several troops had been sent to silence a target that had managed to acquire multiple ghouls in the park the bodies had been found. Afterwards, a sterilization crew had been sent to clean the scene. That morning, the entire park looked as if the crew hadn't even shown up.
She set the papers out on the desk; each was a dental print with an image of its owner clipped to the top of the page. She looked intently at them, and Alucard appeared at her shoulder, looking only vaguely interested in the images.
"Stop that." Integra growled, pushing her palm into Alucard's face and moving him away from the ear he had been breathing on. Alucard merely grinned, pleased with the reaction. He straightened up again, unfazed, and Walter could have sworn that Alucard winked conspiratorially at him from under his orange-tinted goggles before disappearing through the floorboards.
There was a long, heavy silence as Integra scanned over the information. Suddenly she lifted a hand, and twitched a beckoning finger to Walter.
"Do these people look familiar to you?" She asked, as Walter crossed around the desk to observe the images she was gesturing to. There were five of them. He looked at the Hellsing-Issued Identification cards, then at the images taken from the morgue.
He looked back to the cards and turned an unusual shade of white before he spoke shakily.
"Four-eight-eight."
.
End Section
.
*
(1) At least, it appeared to be wine, and somewhere in the back of Integra's head, she really, truly hoped it was wine. (2) Cudos to anyone who caught the irony of this statement.
*
Note from the Author:
The Donut is very grateful for all the kind reviews and is more than willing to accept flames, as she can always use a good laugh and extra tinder. She will continue to refer to herself in third person as a shtick which will likely run thin and result in her being beaten around the head with blunt objects. Because, you know, blunt objects are fun.