Untitled
By: Ordos45
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Hellsing still isn't mine. None of the characters are, except my original one.
Chapter Two: Explanations and Interludes
A/N: Don't worry about offending me Bluemew. We never learn from our mistakes unless someone critiques. Thanks.
There was the definitive crackle of the old wood floor. Someone was approaching him from behind, but Father Anderson continued to sit at attention. He could show no fear here, for he should fear none in a house of God.
"Father Anderson," said the quiet voice of his superior.
"Father Maxwell," replied the paladin in his normal tone.
The floor continued to creak as Maxwell paced around the chair, his voice echoing, despite being a mere whisper," Thousands of Catholics are dead. Father Baggia is missing. How would you explain this?"
"I cannot explain what I do not know," replied Anderson honestly.
"You cannot explain," replied Maxwell in a hushed tone, his right eyebrow twitching unconsciously.
"Aye."
"You said the island was already lost by the time you arrived," asked Maxwell, quiet tone a thousand times more terrifying and commanding than when he was screaming.
"All I know is in my report," said the paladin, his inflection unchanging, despite being questioned by his leader.
"I know," said Maxwell, his voice not rising above the level it had been," However a report is not enough. I am the one who must tell His Holiness of the deaths of so many Catholics in a dominantly Muslim area of the world. The circumstances will make things worse."
"Aye Father," nodded the paladin from his chair, grasping it was not just his life hinging on the outcome of this mission's debriefing.
"I am curious as to one thing however," said Maxwell, his voice taking on an icy chill in addition to its quiet tone," How did you manage to become wounded with cursed bullets if you only encountered ghouls and FREAKs?"
"How did you," began Anderson surprised.
"Our physicians found some of the fragments your body has yet to expel on their examination of you," replied his superior, still not raising his voice, knowing that the paladin wished to be screamed at.
"I see," replied Anderson. Alexander Anderson had never been a good liar during his lifetime, and even after all his contact with that which was corrupt, it still showed. He had been caught trying to withhold information, even though he thought he would get away with it.
"Would you care to explain," asked Maxwell coldly.
"There was some creature there," said Anderson in reply.
"Of what type," inquired Father Maxwell, his cool stare appraising the Paladin as one might a bug before squashing it.
"It seemed to be my equal, but not a vampire," said Anderson quietly," and it knew of how regenerators were made."
For the first time of the meeting, Father Enrico Maxwell was struck silent. The most guarded secret of the Roman Catholic Church was known by an enemy they knew nothing about.
It was dark, and even with his enhanced vision he could not pierce the darkness and see the leader of this agency. The only sound in the room was that of their breathing, and the air circulation systems working.
"Did you distract him," asked the Director, a sense of urgency underlying his voice.
"Yes," said the man with the Appalachian accent,"Anderson didn't arrive in time to stop the incident with Baggia."
"Good," replied the Director," The Vatican must not know of the threat, not yet."
"Perhaps we should inform them," asked the agent, shifting uncomfortably in the darkness.
"They will find out soon," replied the Director," and I hope our deal with the Devil was not in vain."
"I'd hardly call a fallen being the Devil," replied the agent, his accent coloring the apostrophe.
"Close enough," replied the Director," too damn close for my tastes."