Freedom Chapter 7

By J.L. Pitard

Standard disclaimer: All characters belong to Kohta Hirano and his publishers. I have no stake in them...

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Since the disaster of the Valentine Brothers attack on Hellsing Manor, Integra had been forced to recruit troops that weren't exactly up to the traditionally high standards of the Hellsing Organization. The soldier who stood before her was an exception. The Royal Order of Protestant Knights had flagged his file for her and the handful of Hellsing commanders had been sufficiently impressed. So what he had to say came as a shock.

"Sir, I regret that I can no longer remain in your employ." His face was blank. When he'd first walked in, he'd looked pale and a bit unsure of himself.

"Please, sit down Waltham." Integra said with a matching blank look.

He looked down and scuffed his feet. He was a large man, though he stood only five foot ten. His generally easy going demeanor hid the tough training and experiences he'd had.

Integra noted that he was still standing as she picked up his personnel file and read aloud "You joined the Royal Marines Volunteer Cadet Corps at the age of 10 and stated that you wanted to be a commando," she smiled and looked at him, "many children do, of course," looking back at his records, she continued, "but you became a cadet and rushed through the training. That was some 30 years ago. You saw action," her finger ran down the long list of covert and non-covert offensives in his records, "until retiring and entering MI-5's service." She looked up at him to see if anything she'd said would bring a reaction.

He had studied her face as she was reading, but now was noting the craftsmanship of the carpenters who made the desk.

An uncomfortable silence developed. Integra let it grow and bloom. His background was impeccable and his training here had been encouraging, what had gone wrong?

Walter entered through the side doors and Waltham jumped slightly. Integra raised an eyebrow. Walter set down the large silver tray and began to pour for Integra.

"Coffee?" She offered. See? We can be civilized, she thought to herself.

He nodded gratefully and seemed to relax just a touch.

As Walter and Waltham exchanged the cups and accouterments, Integra noted that Waltham was assigned with Alucard's unit.

Walter settled himself in a chair beside the door. Waltham was blowing lightly into his coffee to cool it. His first sip helped him to find his nerves again.

"Sir Hellsing," he started, "I know my own history, but I do not believe I am a good fit with your operation." He had been thinking about what to say from the moment the transport arrived back at the manor. He couldn't sleep at all. Truth be told, he was sure he'd awaken to find an enraged vampire at his throat. When daylight stole in, he thought maybe he'd been a bit childish, but the chill remained in his bones. He'd slept with his old gold cross around his neck, and found a new one on the side of his bunk in the morning. No one would take credit for putting it there, but he knew someone was taunting him for running from the vampire.

"You've been with us for three months and been on four cleansing operations?" Integra's eyes were trying to bore through him and he almost fidgeted.

"Yes, sir."

"Then please, do tell me why you only now realize you are not a good fit!" She slammed her fist down.

Waltham knew the fault was his. He'd go back to MI-5 with his tail between his legs. This assignment had seemed easy at first. That the undead were real he'd discovered while in the ops unit. That there was a secret organization to eradicate them he'd learned at MI-5. It had been his superior's suggestion that he should infiltrate it and they would contact him about reporting back. So far, so good. Once in, he realized that Hellsing operatives only left in boxes. He also, so far, had heard nothing about reporting back. What was there to report? That Hellsing had a pet vampire was news to him, but probably not to MI-5. Maybe that they had two would be important, but again, maybe not. He'd been sold a raw deal, but that really hadn't bothered him until last night. He had no exit strategy. That really scared him.

Integra stood and moved to the window. Units were practicing and moving about normally around the gated manor grounds. She turned back to Waltham. Her manner softened.

"What happened last night?"

He looked startled, but it was fleeting. His training really was good, but hers was better. Her father had raised her, after her mother's young death, and then Walter and Alucard trained her after her father's illness took him. She'd killed at a young age, then killed ghouls and vampires again and again. She took responsibility for every Hellsing solider dead under her watch. She'd faced up to heavy duty at an even younger age than Waltham and she'd learned to hide her emotions away, sometimes even away from herself.

He took a breath. "Your ...vampire..." Her gaze was steady, almost friendly, urging him on. "Last night, our unit arrived to clean out a nest of ghouls and an unknown number of vampires." He had fallen back on a soldier's most familiar debriefing style. "When we arrived at the cordoned off area, we were advised that your...agent had already arrived and we heard many gunshots from within the building. Ghoul corpses outside revealed that he had done most of our work. There was silence when we entered the building and began our sweep of it." He fought for what to say. "I...followed a corridor," he paused, "and, observing a pile of corpses in the hall and entryway..."

Integra's eyes seemed impossibly large to him as he tried to look away from them. He decided to close his before proceeding, but found that the images in his mind were worse. He looked back at the woman who was, ultimately, responsible for the beast.

"I saw Agent Alucard with a woman kneeling in front of him. She was naked and I thought they might be... um," His body tried not to remember how shapely her form had been in that submissive posture. "He leaned down to kiss her and...just tore her head off. Her body exploded into dust. I'd thought she was human at first and..." he stopped and swallowed, "then he looked at me with the most malicious look I've ever seen." He heard Walter rise and walk beside Integra's desk. Waltham had almost forgotten that the old butler was in the room at all. Now his eyes looked from one passive, vaguely sympathetic face to the other. "And I've seen many hostile looks in my day," he added ruefully.

"Is there anything more?" Walter asked after exchanging a look with Integra. She moved back to her chair and picked up her cup of coffee. It was tepid, but the caffeine was welcome. She had the feeling this would be a very long day.

Waltham shook his head and looked down. He did not want to discuss running from the room with the monster's laughter chasing him.

Walter went back to his chair and gathered some papers from the small table nearby. He dropped these on Integra's desk. Waltham looked up at them.

"These are your transfer papers." She said. "Before I sign them, I would like to advise you, as I'm sure they did in your training, that the special agents in my employ are under very strict orders not to kill anyone in the Hellsing Organization. They have never and will never do so." In her mind, Integra added, "without their requesting it or being turned ghoul already..."

She sought Waltham's eyes. "I need to advise you that Hellsing soldiers can retire, but are rarely allowed to switch services. You have not been here long and are still somewhat probationary, so I think we can trust you not to go spilling anything sensitive to MI-5, right?"

Waltham's eyes were hazel, pleasant and blank. Of course, he didn't have anything to report back to MI-5, but it wasn't for lack of trying. This was the time to decide. He desperately wanted out, but the voice of duty was trying to convince him to stick it out.

"Sir..." He could feel himself stalling, "there was one other thing I noticed last night about the vampire." Integra looked confused for a second.

"Go on." She said as Walter moved her notes back to the top of the papers for her.

"There was a tattoo I noticed, on the back of the female..." His mouth was working one way while his mind tried to figure a way out of his real trap. Answer to failure at MI-5 or die at the hands of a lunatic vampire. Failure or death...to a soldier, death would be easier. "...Raw skin around the cross."

He waited for the conversation to get back to his transfer.

"A snake, you say?" Walter was moving to get some papers from his area near the door.

"Can you draw the image?" Integra asked.

It was Waltham's turn to be confused. "Yes, of course." He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair pulling a pencil from his uniform pocket. Taking the offered paper, he leaned over Integra's desk. One eye taking in the notes she had made about the tattoo. Unclean flesh and cross were written in a lovely, but crisp hand. He drew a close facsimile of the image in his mind.

"Thank you."

"About the transfer." He hated being the one to bring it up, but they seemed so wrapped up in his drawing and he felt that Sir Hellsing would sign it without his input.

"I'm sorry?" Integra looked up at the soldier as if she'd forgotten his presence. "Oh, yes, I'll let MI-5 know. I'm sure they'll be glad to have you back."

"That's just the thing, sir," he'd better just spit it out. "I'd like to stay, if I may, sir." Walter's head turned and he reset his eyeglass as if to see the soldier anew. Integra had a cautious, but thoughtful look.

"Why is that, Waltham?" Her voice was level, betraying nothing. They needed men, good soldiers, but did they need one who came in as spooked this one?

This had to be good, he thought. "This morning, when I spoke with my commander about leaving, he suggested that I could instead ask to remain closer to the manor, perhaps on extended guard duty...and I received a gift, to put me at ease around the vampires." He stood and pulled the chain out of his pocket. The cross glinted in the daylight.

"Interesting." Integra eyed the cross. Walter suppressed a smile. Was Alucard apologizing to the soldier or taunting him with such a gift? He leaned towards taunting. Whichever, it was clearly lost on the man.