Fresh Blood

By SSG Michael B. Jackson

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing or anything connected with it, though it sure as hell would be fun if I did. I'm writing this purely for my own twisted amusement, and will not make a dime in the process.

It didn't taken long to get wherever they were going, but for Brad it was an eternity. He remained silent for most of the drive, and, blindfolded, there was nothing for him to see but the horrible images indelibly seared onto his brain.

Over and over again he saw the pale man, standing over his murdered wife and children, his one remaining child held as a human shield in front of him. The bullets from the blonde woman, Seras' gun ripping through Janin's poor little body, killing both her and the pale man, who'd so inexplicably crumbled away to dust as he fell. And even the tears that slid down Seras' cheeks as she turned toward him afterwards.

And while he remained unaccountably numb regarding most of the images flashing through his tortured mind, unable as yet to encompass the full horror of what had just happened, that last part unfailingly stoked him to red-hot rage. How dare she! What fucking right did she, his daughter's murderer so far as he was concerned, have to cry? Who the hell had that right now but him, his family, and Anja's? Surely not some damn government spook who'd so casually exterminated a little girl in order to take out one man.

But as these thoughts played over and over in his mind, Brad slowly realized that something about the images nagged at him. There was something that just wasn't quite right... something about the woman Seras. And then finally it struck him. Her eyes. He hadn't noticed at the time, far weightier matters forcing themselves on his attention, but now that he was able to review it all he realized that Seras' eyes were an unearthly shade of red-orange he'd never seen before. He frowned. Contacts? That was the most logical explanation, but somehow that just didn't seem quite right either...

Finally, turning toward where he knew the woman sat, even if he couldn't see her through the blindfold, he said in a flat monotone, "So why did you do it? Shoot her, I mean. There had to be another way to get the bastard. But you took the path of least resistance. Why?"

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Seras as his words cut through her, and then, in a miserable voice she said, "I told you before. There WAS no other way. Even if he'd dropped your daughter-"

"Janin," Brad interjected in a low, cold tone. "Her name was Janin."

Seras felt a knife twist in her gut at the repressed agony in Brad's tone, but, swallowing once, she continued. "Even if he'd dropped Janin, it was too late. He'd already bitten her, taken her blood, and tainted her with his bloody filth. If I hadn't shot her then, I- I'd have done it afterwards. Believe me, it was the only humane thing left to do."

Brad felt his jaw tighten and his blood pressure spike, and he growled, "How the fuck do you figure? What the hell exactly was so horrible about her being bitten by that fucking psycho? Did he have some kind of disease? Something incurable? What?"

Seras sighed tiredly, and said, "I guess- you could call it something like that. He- I- I really can't tell you any more. That's for Sir Integra to do, if she decides she should. But I will tell you this; even if I hadn't... killed Janin, she would've died anyway. Nothing could've prevented it at that point, and... it would've been a far worse death than what I gave her." Brad heard her swallow once more, and he was almost certain she was crying again as she added in a low, urgent tone, "That's the truth of it. Please believe me when I say that."

Brad felt the rage building inside him once again as a part of him struggled NOT to accept her words. But then, all at once, he felt it all just drain away, as if someone had just suddenly opened a drain-cock and let it all out. He had no idea what was really going on here, but thirteen years as a military policeman had made him pretty damn good at telling when people were sincere and when they weren't. And, as near as he could tell, the young woman next to him was nearly as torn up inside by what had happened as he was. Maybe more so in a way; after all, while Janin had been his daughter, he'd only watched. Seras had made the decision to pull the trigger, apparently with a full moral appreciation of what she was doing and the intent to spare his daughter unnecessary suffering. As much as it killed him to just let go of his rage toward her, Brad had to admit to himself that, assuming that what she obviously believed was true, he had no basis for hating Seras. She'd just been doing what she thought was right.

With a long sigh that seemed somehow to take a part of Brad with it, diminishing him almost physically, he finally said, "I do. Or at least I believe that you believe it. And I- I guess I need to ask you to forgive me for- not being able to forgive you just yet. If what you're telling me is true, then I'm going to end up owing you an apology, I suppose." And then, I a strangled tone, he finished, "But there's just no way in hell that I can do that yet."

Once the APC had stopped, Brad was ushered out and a rather long walk ensued. After proceeding along a path or sidewalk, they entered a structure of some sort, and, after climbing a flight of stairs, finally halted. At this point, Brad's blindfold was finally removed, and he looked around curiously. The surroundings were, to put it lightly, a bit intimidating.

He found himself standing in front of a set of brass-handled, oaken double doors on the second floor of what appeared to be a mansion. A very expensively appointed mansion, no less, obviously the residence of someone either very rich, very influential, or both.

Normally, Brad would have been more than a little intimidated by such surroundings. But, in his present frame of mind, he simply couldn't care less. In fact, other than the white-hot anger he'd felt toward Seras, which had already apparently run it's course and gone, he hadn't felt much of anything since it'd all happened. Somewhere inside himself he realized that this numbness had to be a defense mechanism of some kind, sheltering him from emotions that otherwise would have been crippling. Eventually, he figured, everything would probably come crashing down on him, smashing him under it's ponderous bulk. But not right now.

Frowning, he looked over at Seras, who apparently had accompanied him. "So what now?" he asked quietly.

"Knock," she replied in a similar tone. "It's the proper thing to do."

He grunted in acknowledgement and then complied, knocking firmly but politely three times just as if he were reporting to his commanding officer back on base. There was silence for a moment, and then, from inside, a low, firm female voice said, "Enter."

Pushing the doors open in front of him, Brad did just that. Without thinking, he marched across the room, stopping exactly three paces in front of the large antique mahogany desk behind which the speaker was seated. Unfamiliar with the etiquette required for such a situation, he unconsciously fell back on his military experience, and very nearly saluted the coolly attractive nearly white-haired woman. He remained standing, silent, at the rigid position of attention while she examined him and he examined her in turn. Finally, realizing what he was doing, he broke the silence with, "Sir Integra, I presume?"

The woman cocked her head, light from the overhead fixtures glinting off the lenses of her wire rimmed spectacles, and said, "Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing. And you are?"

Eyes narrowing, Brad said a bit shakily, "Staff Sergeant Brad Porter, United States Army Military Police Corps, ma'am." And then, in a tone edged with a kind of hysterical humor, he added, "Though I'm hardly here in an official capacity."

The woman nodded slowly, and said, "So I've gathered, Sergeant Porter. Commander Williams was so kind as to phone ahead and let me know what had occurred out there. That being the case, let me just say up front that I'm terribly sorry for your loss." She paused for a moment, her gaze never wavering from his, and then said, "Now, as for the other matter... I've been told that you have some questions, Sergeant Porter. Questions that you refused to leave unanswered. Is that right?"

Brad nodded slowly, and then said, "You could say that, ma'am."

Eyes narrowing slightly, Sir Integra said, "Well, then, Sergeant, by all means ask. If I can answer, I will."

Brad looked down briefly, and then, locking eyes with Sir Integra, he said, "Alright. How about this then. What the hell happened at that motel tonight? What WAS that bastard who attacked my family? And why, WHY, in the name of GOD, did Miss Victoria over there HAVE to shoot my daughter? What did that bastard do to her that was so horrible that death was preferable? Can you tell me any of those things, Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing?"

Sir Integra sighed deeply, and then said, "I could give you the answers to those questions, Sergeant Porter. But there would be a few problems involved with that, I'm afraid."

Brad frowned, and, in a tightly controlled voice, said, "Problems, you say? Ma'am, I don't know how you define 'problems', but I seriously doubt that those 'problems' outweigh losing a wife, three children, and an unborn baby ALL IN ONE NIGHT! And while I very well understand the nature of classified material and 'need to know', I really think that in this situation I NEED TO KNOW! So if there's some damn waiver I need to sign, or if I simply need to 'disappear' after this little conversation is over, that's just fine with me. The truth is, for all intents and purposes, my life is over now anyway. My whole purpose for EXISTING just died in that damn motel room tonight, and the only thing keeping me going right now is my absolute refusal to give up until I know what the hell my family died for. So please take that into consideration if you will, MA'AM."

Sir Integra was silent for several moments, contemplating, and then, nodding slowly, she said, "I can appreciate your position in this, Sergeant Porter. You're not the only one who's ever lost someone you cared for. But... Hellsing is, by it's very nature, a secretive organization. We operate in the shadows, as it were, dealing with things that ordinary, everyday people refuse to even believe in. And that's the way it has to be. If the public had even an inkling of what was really out there, the social cost would be immeasurable. And so we keep what we know to ourselves. Within our organization and within certain other esoteric factions of the British Crown. In fact, Sergeant Porter, we go to great lengths to keep our knowledge from leaking outside the organization. If you understand what I mean."

Brad shook his head slowly, and said, "Oh, I think I understand, ma'am. And that being the case, I think I have a proposition for you." He paused for a moment, composing his racing thoughts, and then continued. "If you'll just tell me who or what that bastard was, and whether he was a loner or part of some damn terrorist cell or something, I can't think of anything I'd rather do with whatever's left of my life than help track down and annihilate any others like him who might be hiding under a damn rock somewhere out there. If you understand what I mean, ma'am."

Sir Integra's eyes widened just fractionally, and she said, "Are you offering your services to me, Sergeant Porter? In exchange for whatever I might be able to tell you?"

Brad nodded sharply once and said, "If what your organization does is hunt down bastards like that one, and if you'll have me, then yes ma'am. I am. There's nothing else left for me that's worth doing now."

Nodding again, Sir Integra said, "Based on what Commander Williams told me, I thought you might feel that way. So, naturally, I took the liberty of having someone make a few hasty... inquiries into your background, Sergeant Porter. Nothing near the level of detail I'd demand before finalizing anything, of course, but enough to give me a rough idea of who I was dealing with."

Face stony, Brad said flatly, "And?"

"And," Sir Integra said slowly, "It seems that you have a decent, though unremarkable, service record, Sergeant Porter. Thirteen years as a military policeman, duty assignments both inside the United States and in Europe as well as multiple deployments to, shall we say, some of the 'garden spots' of the world. Sparkling performance evaluations right up through 1999, and then, from 2000 on, well, shall we say, a bit more mediocre work overall."

Brad frowned, and said, "I can't deny that. 2000 was when Anja and I were married. Suddenly I had a wife and two kid, who I'm happy to say cam with the deal, and another one on the way. That was all I ever really wanted out of life, and my priorities changed. That didn't mean I was any less dedicated, but it did mean that I had to divide myself between the military and my family. I think you can guess which one got more of me." And then, mood suddenly turning dark, Brad said, "But I hardly think you have to worry about that now, ma'am. There's nothing left for me to divide myself between. The only purpose I can even imagine for myself at this point is taking care of trash like that bastard and making sure that no one else has to go through what I'm going through right now. I've never been part of any spec-ops unit or anything like that, but I damn sure know how to handle myself. I know what to do in combat, and I know what to do when there are friendlies caught up in the middle of things. I know how to take orders and how to lead troops. And, first and foremost, I know how to learn. So I guess what I'm saying is, either let me into the club and tell me what's going on, or just shoot me and dump the body somewhere. At this point, it's got to be one or the other."

Sir Integra gazed piercingly at Brad for a very long time, something that, if he'd given a damn anymore, most like would've made him very uncomfortable. As it was, it only made him impatient, and he did his best to hide that behind a military poker face. Finally, her lips quirking into just the slightest hint of a smile, Sir Integra said, "Well, Sergeant Porter, far be it for me to waste anything of potential value, be it bullets or manpower. As I said, however, before I make any final decisions, a far more thorough background check will be conducted. That should take no more than a day or so, and in the meantime, consider yourself a guest. And, so far as your family is concerned, I'll ensure that the proper... arrangements are made. Naturally, there are going to be quite a number of loose ends for you to tie up, but, contingent upon your eventual status here, whatever assistance you require will be provided. Any more questions, then, Sergeant Porter?"

Brad shook his head slowly, and said, "No, ma'am, I guess not for now."

"Good," she said quietly, and then, "In that case, I'll have Sergeant Victoria introduce you to Walter, my household manager. He'll be able to billet you, so to speak, and attend to any other domestic needs you might have."

Then, looking past Brad, Sir Integra speared Seras, who'd been quietly hovering near the door throughout the exchange, with her gaze. "Sergeant Victoria," she said just loud enough to be heard.

Coming forward quickly, Seras said a bit nervously, "Yes, Sir Integra?"

"Since it was your advice that brought Sergeant Porter here, until such time as I tell you otherwise, he's to be your responsibility. That means both ensuring that he's properly taken care of AND making sure that he doesn't get into any... trouble. Do you understand me, Seras?"

Frowning just slightly, Seras said, "I... think I do, ma'am."

"Good," Sir Integra said, the tiny hint of a smile playing about her lips again. "In that case, kindly show him out and get things started if you will."

Seras nodded and, with a quick, "Yes ma'am," turned to escort Brad from the room.

"And Sergeant Victoria?" Sir Integra said as they reached the door.

"Yes ma'am?" she said, pausing.

"You may, at your discretion, answer some of Sergeant Porter's questions. I leave it up to your judgment to decide which ones and how far into... depth to answer."

And with that, Brad and Seras left Sir Integra's study, both with the feeling that they'd started down an unlit path that led towards parts unknown.

Well, kind of a weak ending for chapter 2, I guess, but what can I say? It's late and I'm tired, and, yet again, it's leading somewhere. It might be a little while longer before I get chapter 3 up, but if so it should be worth the wait. Once again, please review; I really need the feedback!