The base
"Ah, there you are, lassie!" A rumbling voice with a faint Scottish accent greeted them as the jeep finally came to a halt. The three occupants got out and Neva walked up to her faithful security officer to get the latest reports. The two devil hunters looked around. They were standing in a large underground garage. Its military origin was clearly visible in the rusting heaps of metal junk that littered the corners and in the use of colours. It was deserted save for the man that now turned away from his female employer and gave them a large grin. The burly Scotsman grabbed Dante's hand and then gave him a slap on the back that almost sent Dante reeling.
"We didn't meet properly last time, I'm Sean MacDougall and you are the son of Sparda and Eva. I can see the resemblance. You have his eyes and hair. Aah, he was a great man. I remember the first time I met him. And your mother was a fine lass. She always had a kind word for a scrawny lad. I always tried to catch a glimpse of her when I was running errands for the missus here. And…blablabla"
Dante blinked at the bombardment of words that the older man shot at him. Wave after wave of monolog washed over him and Trish, who had also been sucked in like a satellite into a black hole. To their relief Neva came up to them and interrupted the red haired man's tirade.
"Could you please show them to their quarters, Sean? I have to go to the infirmary and talk to the doctor."
"Of course I can. You two just follow me and we will soon have you settled in." MacDougall put his arms around the devil hunters' shoulders and started to walk away.
"I think Dante can manage that," Trish piped up. "I'd really like to see the infirmary." The sudden assault of MacDougall's extrovert personality was too much for her. Her life before she met Dante had been a solitary one. She had some problems handling crowds, and the large Scotsman was a crowd all on his own.
Somehow sensing Trish's distress Neva politely pulled her from MacDougall's grip and gave him a smile.
"You men can go ahead and take care of the arrangements. We will meet you there later."
"As you wish, lass."
Without further delay they parted and went their separate ways. MacDougall had instantly resumed his tirade and was making explanatory gestures with his free hand while he led Dante to their destination.
Trish followed Neva to a dull grey door that opened into a long corridor. They stepped through and started walking down the echoing passage.
When Neva started picking up the pace, Trish gave her a sideways glance. By the look on Neva's face she could tell that she was lost in troubled thoughts, so Trish walked silently by her side and occasionally peek inside the open doorways they passed.
Soon Neva stopped outside a double door that had the word "Infirmary" painted across them in bold letters. She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.
At the sound of the doors opening, a nurse turned and then hurriedly rushed to a tall skinny man in a white coat who stood further away from the entrance. When the nurse touched his arm he looked up, and immediately walked toward the visitors with long strides.
"How is she?" Neva asked, as the doctor came to a halt in front of her.
"She's conscious. But I fear that it's only a matter of time. The damage to her brain is too difficult to pinpoint, but it's causing it to slowly shut down."
"I want to see her." Neva motioned for the doctor to lead the way and they followed him past the rows of beds that lined the walls in the large rectangular room.
"Who's hurt?" Trish whispered to Neva.
"Alicia, my secretary. She was attacked on the roof during the evacuation."
The doctor stopped at a bed where a female lay with closed eyes. The young woman was pale but there were no other signs of sickness. At the sound of footsteps her eyes fluttered open and she greeted them with a weak smile.
"Madame," she breathed.
"Hello Alicia. How are you feeling?" Neva gently took her hand. It felt lifeless and cold. When Alicia tried to squeeze her hand Neva could only feel a slight twitch that indicating that there was still life in her body.
"Cold….it's so dark."
"Alicia, I will try to help you. Just relax." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Neva closed her eyes. Trish recognized the expression settling on the Soul Wanderer's face. Neva's soul was reaching out, cautiously touching the injured mind. Tiny green sparks started to shimmer in the depths of Alicia's grey eyes. On the other side of the bed the doctor seemed to hold his breath.
Finally, after a long tense silence, Neva opened her eyes, her serene expression fading.
"Madame?" Alicia looked at her with a hopeful face. Neva gave her a bright smile.
"Do not worry; all you need now is some rest. Just try to go to sleep." Neva gave her secretary's hand a final squeeze and then put it back to rest on the woman's chest. She stood up and walked towards the exit. Trish and the doctor trailed after her, anxiously watching. The happy face she had put on faltered as she turned away from the bed.
"What did you find?" The doctor was hovering beside Neva as she stopped by the doors.
"Her mind is closed to me and so it will be until she dies. I can not get through to heal her injuries. She will probably soon slip into a coma."
"But, why? She was no threat to anyone." The doctor shook his head.
"I do not know. Please inform me if there are any changes in her condition." Neva turned and walked out the doors. Trish looked down the length of the room toward Alicia's bed. She felt a sudden uneasiness at the sight of the pale woman. Something was very wrong here, but she could not put her finger on it. Pushing the feeling aside for future examination, she followed her hostess.
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Matching the strides of the huge Scotsman was a breeze, compared to keeping up with his machine gun monologue. Dante's mind boggled with all the information it was receiving. He had been fully briefed on the events that had led to MacDougall's employment here. He had also been treated to some anecdotes from the man's random encounters with Dante's parents. Now the man was re-enacting some of the battles he had lived through during his life as a mercenary.
Dante silently walked by his side, occasionally ducking a flailing arm. Suddenly something MacDougall said caught his attention.
"Half god?"
"Yup, Neva's a half god. Haven't she told you?"
"No, I think she left that part out. What kind of god is she?"
"Well, she not really a god of something, she doesn't rule over anything in particular. She was only created for one thing, to destroy Cthulhu. Her twin brother-"
"Twin brother?"
"Yes, Mr what's-his-name. Sorry, but I can't pronounce it, it's in some ancient extinct language. I think the missus is the only one that still speaks it properly. Anyway, her twin brother was supposed to be the slayer, Neva was only providing the juice, you know, her soul."
"What's her soul got to do with it? All you need is a proper sword."
"It's not that simple, but I guess the missus will tell you all about the killing part. After all that's what you're here for. Oh, and don't tell her I told you about her brother. She's kind of sensitive about that. She kind of lost it when he was…killed."
"Lost it?"
"Yeah, she went kind of mad and killed one of her priests. There was something about him betraying her, and then she disappeared for a while. I don't know. That was over two thousand years ago so you can't really relay on the rumours."
"How do you know all this? Surely you weren't around two thousand years ago?"
"I've read the chronicles. There's a huge library back in Scotland in one of the headquarters. The priests have been writing down these things since Neva and her brother was born. She has a small cult of her own, you know."
"I figured that much, with all the priests and headquarters and stuff."
"Anyway---Oh, here we are. Your quarters, sir." MacDougall stood at attention and gave Dante a salute, but his wide grin spoiled the serious pose.
"Would you like two rooms or one? Is that lady your wife?"
"Eh, not wife-"
"Right then, this will be your room and I'll place the young lady in the next one. Will that do?"
"Guess so." Dante peeked inside the room. It was more like a cell, the only furniture being a bunk and a night stand. Pegs hammered into the grey concrete wall served as coat hangers.
"Cozy."
"I know. Those military lads aren't that good at interior decoration. Tragic really. First forced to sleep in a place like this, buried underground like in a coffin, and then you go out and get your ass blown off."
"And I suppose a mercenary gets to sleep in more luxurious places?" Dante shut the door and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Nah, as a mercenary you're most likely to end up sleeping under a bush and then get your ass blown off, if you can't get the other guy first, that is."
The Scotsman's grinning face made Dante laugh. This was a man that didn't seem to take life too serious, but Dante had a feeling that MacDougall took his own life, and the lives of his friends, very seriously and was lethal when defending it. He had seen him fighting during the evacuation.
"Enjoying yourselves, I see." Neva came walking towards the two men, closely followed by Trish. Dante thought he saw a glimpse of worry on their faces, but it quickly disappeared when they got closer. He shrugged mentally and figured he would ask Trish about it later. For the moment he was more interested in getting some sleep. His head still ached after Neva's little mind trick and he had a feeling that he would need his strength in the morning. Trish was starting to look worn as well, and soon Neva said good night and left. MacDougall lingered, anxious to see that all was to their pleasing. Under his watchful eyes Trish and Dante went to their separate rooms.
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The door creaked slightly as it opened. Light from the corridor spilt inside the dark room, illuminating a sleeping Dante, his bare chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. The silhouette of a woman was briefly visible in the opening, then the door closed and darkness once again filled the room.
Dante was woken by a most pleasant feeling, slender fingers lightly touching his torso. They slowly moved further up his body, sliding over his chest.
"Trish?" he murmured, sleep still fogging his brain.
He felt the warmth of a soft body against his left side and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down on top of him. Suddenly cold steel rested against the skin of his throat.
"Wanna play it ruff, ey?" He grabbed the hand that was holding the blade to his windpipe.
Suddenly the door burst open and he could see a figure outlined against the light in the opening.
"Dante!"
He looked up and squinted as the lights were turned on. Trish was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him. He looked down at the person lying on top of him.
"Dante! What are you doing?" Trish asked with a sharp tone.
"What? Oh, her. I thought she came with the room. You know, like complimentary mints on the pillow." He gave her a cheesy smile.
The girl in his arms struggled and managed to take the scalpel in her free hand. The razor sharp edge gleamed in the light. She took another swing at Dante's throat but he quickly let go of her waist and caught that hand too. Sitting up, he shifted his grip so he held both her wrists with one hand and turned her around, placing her on his lap, facing Trish.
"Oh! My! God! It's Neva's secretary!" Trish gasped as she gained a clear view of the girl's face.
"Compliments from the boss? Maybe she's not as uptight as she seems."
"Oh, will you shut up! She's not supposed to wander around here. She's not even supposed to be able to get out of bed."
"She seems fine to me. Mighty fine!" Dante wiggled his eyebrows, imitating Groucho Marx.
"Get serious! I'll go fetch Neva."
"Can you just hold her for a second, while I get dressed? I wouldn't wanna embarrass anyone."
Trish stepped forward and took hold of Alicia's arms, forcing her to stand up and drop the scalpel. Dante threw the covers aside and stood up. He walked over to the pegs where his clothes were hanging and started to dress. Trish rolled her eyes and promptly turned Alicia's face towards the wall, not wanting her to gawp at Dante, since he was butt naked.
"You don't have a modest bone in you, do you?" Trish only received a gleeful grin at that comment. She sighed and shook her head. He could be so trying at times. For one thing, he saw girls that tried to kill him as a perk.
Dante sat down on the bed and pulled on his black biker boots. He had not bothered with the vest and coat, he had only put on his thin black turtle neck sweater and his red leather pants. By habit he also strapped the twin holsters to his thighs, checking the guns.
"Now go and fetch Neva. I'd like to know why her secretary sneaks into my room and tries to cut my throat."
"Your wish is my command. Not." Trish opened the door and walked out to find Neva.