Order 24: A Matter of Strategy
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the hellsing characters.
Author's Note: I've made it so that anonymous reviews are allowed. My finals are finally over, so I should be able to write more. Also, please note Millennium will be used to describe the main Antagonists for the most part. FREAK is now the title of the other group who is not involved as of yet.
Darkness swirled around the world and a shadowy figure controlled it all. None who were alive could see it. None that were alive; that was the key. Corvine could've sworn that it was palpable, but he knew that wasn't true. He sat in it at this very moment; his entire body soaked in it. None but him could feel it. The darkness that was death tried to pull his soul sown to the depths of the underworld constantly. It was probably very annoyed with him by now, considering that he had been dead for over two hundred years.
Oh, he remembered his death vividly. The way the blade had splashed through his stomach. The way the priest had killed him saying that he was an abomination. He remembered the mad priest's green eyes. He touched his stomach. It still sometimes hurt where those blades had had cut him. He let out a deep cold laugh filled with malice. Revenge would be sweet. He already knew how that sweet dish tasted. There was nothing better. Revenge wasn't best served cold, as the humans said. It was best served frozen; frozen to the strength of steel...
Integra suddenly thought of something to ask Enrico. "Why is it called the FREAK chip if Millennium made it?"
"Because, it wasn't Millennium who created the first successful chip. It was FREAK. Millennium merely modified it to there liking." Enrico shouted over his shoulder.
And that was that. She now had two meetings finished with. Now the only one left was with the Knights of the Round Table Conference. This was the one that would determine her fate. If the Knights decided that she was to be decommissioned, only the queen could save her, and after the last attack that was probably not going to happen. She now had two allies. Well, one ally, and one wildcard.
She turned towards Walter. "Do you think we can trust them?"
"I wouldn't trust Iscariot more than I could throw them, Sir. That goes double for Enrico Maxwell. He's a crafty one. Totally messed up in the head, but crafty. Still he has a history of finding information. After all, he started as Inquisitor. During that time he uncovered seven plots against the pope, three assassins disguised as priests, two suicide bombers planning on sending a message to the west, and most importantly five Catholic priests who helped Nazis escape. If anyone is master of finding important information, it's him."
"So, what you're saying is that if he's telling the truth, than it's probably true, but he might be lying, so we need to be careful."
"Exactly."
Well that just made him even more untrustworthy. The only thing she had to worry about facing now was the Knights of the Round Table. She had been lucky that they had not decided to throw her into a cell with the key just out of her reach. Now was the time to rebuild. She hoped that they realized that. Her meetings with the Knights rarely went well. They weren't sexists (most of them weren't), but they viewed the Hellsing Organization as a group who had too much sway. Her father had had to deal with them on a regular basis.
Well...not all of them tried to take her down constantly that constantly. Penwood was as bad as anyone when it came to criticizing her, but he held everyone else, including himself, up to the same standard. The rest, however, would use anything they could to bring her down. It didn't matter how small an opportunity it was, they would use it. She headed back to the manner. She would have to use these three days to prepare herself.
Meanwhile, the London headquarters of Millennium had seen better days. Shivaren's brand of brutality had brought order to it, but it also greatly decreased the number of defenders it had. This was the reason for the scene of carnage that was being displayed there at the moment Integra was driving towards the Hellsing Mansion. A tall figure had laid waist to anyone who came in its path. The figure was not recognizable to anyone except Corvine.
He had known who it was the moment he had walked onto the premises. Corvine could have fought the vampire, and maybe even have won, but for now Corvine was willing to let Havoc do as he wished. He knew what Havoc had come for. And the best way to get rid of him was to let have what he wanted...
When Integra came to the grounds of the mansion, she was surprised to Devarious chained along the fence. He was a barely recognizable underneath his mask of bruises and blood. There was a note, now stained with some drops of blood, which lay on top of him.
Integra took the letter and read it.
Dear Integra,
I give you this werewolf as a token of my goodwill. Perhaps you would care to beg for the information I have now. It doesn't matter that you know the origins of your enemy. You still have no way truly knowing them. I am the only being in the whole world who has both the knowledge and the willingness to give it to you.
Signed,
Nosferatu Havoc
She turned to Walter. "Have him taken to emergency quarters and then contact the American Paranormal Division and tell them that we have their pet Werewolf, but he is in critical condition."
Alexander Anderson stood staring at the three Vampires who thought they had cornered a helpless priest. How pathetic. These fools never seemed to learn. He slowly turned around with a cross held out in his right arm. They laughed hard. One said, "It won't do you any good father. We're goanna kill you now, so why don't you just put that little toy down and give up."
If they had only looked at his face they would have realized that he wasn't panicking at all. In fact he was smiling. It wasn't the smile that one such as Shivaren had, the type of smile that sent ice through you spine, paralyzing you. It was a smile of arrogance. The cross that the holy Paladin was holding started to glow. At first it was just a slight change that no one would have noticed, but after a few seconds it grew into a blinding white light. Paladin Alexander Anderson could hear the deafening screams of the three who had tried to attack him before the cross returned to normal.
He stared at the scene before him. Three piles of dust were before him. That attack was something he had learned how to use shortly after his last battle with Alucard. It was simple enough. All he had to do was channel his faith into a medium, such as a cross or a blade and the vampire would be weakened, or destroyed, depending on their strength. He suddenly heard a soft laughing sound.
"I see you still have a great deal of tricks up your sleeve, Judas Priest."
He turned to see a tall black man, whose head was shaved and was wearing sunglasses. He had a black coat and white dress shirt on, as well as black pants. His voice was deep.
"'Ow did you survive, murderer?"
"What's that? No 'Hi, how are?' for me. You're not still mad about me slaughtering your whole family are you?"
"Ah killed you with pleasure, abomination."
"Indeed you did. But like the phoenix, I too have arisen from the ashes. Unfortunately, it wasn't my choice, and thus I am bound to a master. Fortunately, for me at least, he is your enemy. I will greatly enjoy dissecting you, regenerator."
"Not if ah kill you first, vampire."
"We shall see, Paladin, we shall see."
With that the vampire disappeared.
When Corvine appeared in the main chamber of Millennium's main base of operations all the members looked relieved. Shivaren made them all afraid to do anything but hide. Even though these men were about as useful as squealing little pigs in battle, Corvine could not just let Shivaren kill them for no apparent reason. They had their uses. Each man was a powerful business owner in London. That alone was what kept them alive.
Shivaren walked towards him and said, "Was it really necessary to do that?"
"No, but I like to play mind games. It keeps them on there toes."
"We should attack them now fool. They're weak and ready to fall. So what are you afraid of?"
"It's not a matter of fear. It's a matter of strategy. Do what your opponent least suspects, not what he expects. Right now we have dealt them a blow. They expect us to come at them like a shark that smells blood. They're ready for that. We're going to move to a new base of operations instead."
"Where?"
"To the fortress that has bourn witness to more evil than any other place in the world. The place that shall break our enemies to pieces, should they be foolish enough to go in. We're going to the Castle of Torment; the castle once owned by the countess of blood."
The laughs of Corvine and Shivaren echoed throughout the former base of operations...