Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano, Geneon and all that awesome people who distributed so that I got to know the existence of it. Duke Milford, Mary and Rails Maloy are my invention.
(Re) Building an Empire
The 387th Night -Part One-
He was bored. When he woke up, the only notice he had gotten from his Master was a pile of papers on Integra's desk along with a post it glued on them saying she had gone to a hunt with Seras. A last minute call had put them in the road to Banbury, where a family massacre had taken place and it was assumed a vampire was the culprit. The girls hadn't minded waking him up, he has been sleeping a lot since the night of the sealing. And honestly, he was more useful in the office than in the battlefield. Fuming, he went to the kitchen to get his dinner. Recently he was able to eat human food, even though he still found it too weird. Centuries drinking nothing but blood didn't let his system to adapt to all these changes. He felt himself lazy, weakened. He pulled a grape juice brick and mixed it with a bag of medical blood. He drank just the half of the beverage before feeling nauseated.
So he went back to work. Started thinking at the letters he had to write among other pendings; nothing was urgent. So he looked for Mary, at least for having someone to talk with. He found the maid in her room. The girl was glued in a book.
"What is it?" She raised her lime colored eyes above the pages, obviously annoyed.
"Mary, I'm bored and lonely." In Duke's mind, his problems concerned everyone.
"And?"
"What would you say about a match of badminton?"
"I'd say that it's my free day and I don't want to spend it babysitting a clingy girl." She always had a mean comment to spit when Integra wasn't around to put her in halt. Lately Seras had been training the young lady along with him in the shooting practice, which had given the maid a level of familiarity with them. Utterly offended, Duke returned stomping to the office, sat down by his desk to begin writing the first letter addressed to an UN agent. After the first final dot tapped on the keyboard, he realized that his diplomatic abilities were on the leash by his absent-mindedness. So he made the most sensible thing he knew.
The other side of the line called for a good while. About two minutes later an angered voice answered.
"For god's sake, it's three hours in the morning!" The unexpected response put Duke aghast, like some stake had been slam into his heart. The other person took the silence as a warning and immediately changed to a concerned tone "Did something happen?"
"Jack," Duke couldn't contain some tears falling from reassurance of hearing his beloved for the first time in a while. Then the emotions overflew and he couldn't keep even anymore "Integra and Seras left me alone."
There was a sigh the other side of the line.
"I had forgotten your voice change," there was a mocking accusation there that Duke preferred to ignore "did they tell you where they gone?"
"Yes."
"Duchess," Jack knew how much he despised that nickname. Aside of his body, he was still a He; it was clear since the day Dracula had taken him for a priest. After all, he had been disguised as one "it was you who told me you wanted to stay with those ladies. You, who decided I wasn't worth a Master."
"I never said that, don't put words in my mouth." Duke moaned. It was obvious Jack was also hurt from the changing. "It's just that… it was the only way to clean Integra's name. But I didn't think it deep, she leaves me alone, she forgets that I demand supervision. I'm a monster, a threat to humanity."
"It's exactly like that day you signed contract with that Chinese company, and what happened then?" Again the old man was reprimanding him.
"We sold that terrible merchandise for about six months." Duke answered rolling the eyes.
"Aaand?"
"We lost a gross of one million… But this is different!"
"In which way, darling?" It was almost visible how the businessman was crossing arms in that very moment "Since the sealing you call me any other day to complain about what Integra does or doesn't do. You were aware how important it was for us, and you never asked my opinion when it came for lifting the seal over you."
"Does it help you saying that I'm sorry for the hundredth time?"
"There's nothing for feel sorry about, I'm proud of your decision and I will never stop loving you" Jack's words warmed Duke's dead heart, then his beloved added in mocking tone "I still like you even if you've turned a girl."
"Oh shut up!"
A window breaking stopped their conversation.
"What was it?"
"I think it came from the upper floor." Jack heard the fast pacing from the other side of the line. More windows breaking buzzed him that something wasn't right in the place, but Duke wasn't there for hearing his advice, the vampire had placed the receiver far from his ear. The old man listened attentively, there was a gasping scream from Duke's feminine voice and the next second the communication was cut.
Hand trembling, Jack dialed again the long number to London. The operator informed him that the line was dead. Any other day he wouldn't worry for his beloved's sake, he was before a powerful vampire none the less; now things weren't by their side, his darling was weakened to the level of a simple girl. Maybe Duke was right, it was reckless to leave him without supervision. He dialed another long number, this time a mobile's.
Integra wasn't answering either. What could he, an old man in pj's at three am, do from the other side of the ocean? The only answer was to use his contacts. One last long number, luckily the called was someone who rarely slept.
"Mister Clemens. Are you in England or calling from America? What time is there now? What can I do for you?"
"Hello Rails, in that order. Yes, I'm in NY right now. It is three and a half in the morning. I think you have a scoop, do you know the Hellsing household?"
"Sure I do. Don't tell you got me an interview with lady Hellsing!" Rails was already hopping in expectation.
"You want one? You'll get it. For now I only need that you get to Hellsing's manor right now and call me once you arrive. If something is wrong, you have to call the police."
There was a long pause before the journalist arranged what to say. So was the lynching plan true? Rumors of the 'Radicalist' a group of neonazis that had gathered a good amount of followers among the Hellsing haters was hot topic in the underground society. Mostly because the world couldn't find the relationship of the single Sir Lady and the London massacre, didn't mean some clever enough guys had had it hard to notice. And far as he knew, Duke Milford was a new addition to said household, no wonder his lover was concerned. But Clemens was an old friend, in every aspect of the word, and Rails wasn't the kind of causing heart attack to friends.
"Sounds great. I just hope they don't take me for a peeping Tom." Clemens laughed at the comment and, a little reassured, left everything in Rails hands. Which after hanging down the receiver, scrubbed his messy beard, wondering if it was worth losing time in shaving.
Likewise, he didn't mind changing his two days worn clothes. Just grab some empty cassette tapes, the camera, and a pack of double AA batteries for the recorder. He was dipping in deep water if something actually was happening in that mansion, and he knew better than anything that he needed an emergency exit in case of things turning nasty. Worried sick, he got a hold of his always trustful 1911 R1 to hide it inside his jacket while his other hand called for a taxi, it was out of question to drive into a probable war zone. At least, he spared the driver by getting down a mile or so before hitting the road towards Hellsing's household.
Rails blamed his kindness when he arrived, short of breath, just in time to get into what exactly he was troubling him. The group of people reunited in front of the house had formed an interesting vision. Half of them would make the exact copy of hippie camps all along the trimmed gardens, which would result in the typical pacific plaint if it wasn't for the other half; the one that had took down a tree, and turned its log into a battering ram.
He didn't want to mix up with that people, and he knew that if the house had had occupants, they would have already informed the police. But for Mister Clemens to call him at his god sake three hours in the morning, something was actually happening inside the house. So he kept his promise and dialed through his cell phone. Apparently, no one in the station had idea of the events in Hellsing's manor; and suspicious of a mole in the police that had hidden the evident, Rails gave a false name and hung up. At least his conscience was at ease.
The heavy screeching sound of the grill giving up warned him. He had to find another way to enter. However, these people was no stupid, he found a back door that was guarded by three tall guys. He'd wished he had noticed them before they came out from a bush. Two black dudes and a white one. This last had some manic expression on him when his rifle's muzzle touched Rails' temple.
"It seems we have a peeping Tom." He said, and Rails couldn't blame more that quirk he had said at Clemens hours ago. "What should we do with him?" Of course the question was far aside from only taking up his camera and emptying his pockets, 1911 R1 along with the recorded that ended its days under their boots.
As if he was the leader, one of the black guys was about to give his partner an answer, when a young woman caught up them screaming for help. Someone has started shooting at the mob from the house. Bewildered expressions ran across the three men, it was obvious they were expecting the house empty. The seemingly leader gave the order to the white guy to stay with Rails, who was already pointing at the nape of the kneeled down journalist. The menaced man wasn't happy at all about the leader's decision and glanced bemused at the woman, who was frozen from the idea of possibly seeing him shot down.
"Mustard Gas." The brunette woman corrected what, apparently, the guard was thinking. There was a hint on the man's face that showed how deceived would be if the civilians were shot from a noble's house.
"What?" The white guy shook his rifle a little to look at the woman, she smiled nervously.
"Why don't you go with them? I can get a hold of him too, Raymond send me after all."
Despite her short frame, she knew she was trustworthy only by using the real leader's name. It hadn't taken her more than a few minutes to find out who had pulled this charade. In the place of giving her the rifle, the guy handed her a handgun, and after he confirmed she was able to hold it like an expert, she could see him rushing towards where she knew his girlfriend was in the campfire. Not far from Mary's shooting range. As Duke pointed again at the man on his knees, he had an only headache; he didn't know what Integra would think out of this.
"Weeell?" After some minutes of death silence, and judging by the broken pieces of camera by their feet, it was clear she was pointing at a journalist. He threw the handgun far from reach but to eye sight, so that this person could find him harmless, even in the half darkness. "Before you run away of here, I would like to know who sent the media to cover this."
"Are we playing good cop, bad cop?" The blond man glanced up at his new captor, and Duke couldn't hide his surprise upon seeing his red face.
"Rails? Is that you, Rails Maloy?" He bounced in joy before hugging from the back the old friend. The other was at loss of where he was supposed to know this woman.
"It's me, Duke! You don't remember? That night in Las Vegas, when they kick us out of Caesar's Palace. God, they almost killed us that time."
"Sorry but…" Rails stood up to spin on his heels, never giving the back to Duke, and walking backwards to where the gun was waiting "that trick won't work in me lady. You have lost points impersonating one of the most powerful businessman in America." He stressed the gender, and Duke remembered with amusement how paranoid his friend used to be.
"Yeah, it sucks to be a girl." The vampire knew his Master and sister would hate him for saying that. Anyway, he wasn't going for the truth for gaining this man's trust. "It was an accident. The doctor mistook butt implant for breast, it seems it's a common mistake but it took her career. I've been in hiding because of complications with the anesthetics. Happy?"
"What about the high pitched voice?" Rails had gotten hold of his gun, now Duke was the one pointed at. He didn't have the time to answer, something exploded inside the house. The vampire didn't think it twice to pull the journalist by the wrist to the back door, in a rush they passed the kitchen towards the stairs. The floor was already covered in debris, and Duke was recalling the terror he had seen by TV one year ago. He didn't have to open the door of Sir Integra's chamber; their remains were nothing but smithereens on the floor. The vampire's throat got dry upon entering. Mary was hunched in a corner, a red line sliding from her temple to the chin. Rails released of the grip to run helping her. She slowly recovering the conscious, despite her pitiable state, the girl wanted to stand up.
"I don't know what they thrown, the whole roof fell down." She said in a raspy voice, while the journalist was taking out of his pocket a handkerchief. Duke gulped hard while seeing how the fabric was trampled by warm blood. A glass bottle rolled across of what was left of the room, a little flame coming from its neck. "Look out!"
It was like his body reacted before knowing what was happening. Duke pushed both humans towards the entrance with ease he used to have with his full power; problem here was that he was a weakened creature. The glass scattered in another explosion, burning pieces nailed into his back. The pain. The voices inviting him to madness.
He resisted though. The front door opened abruptly, he could hear it. Hurried steps and an enraged mob. The stirring sound of more glass breaking, one piece of it landing on his ear. The image of the werewolves, he couldn't see the syringe for they were holding his head against the cold table, but he could feel. That burning oil penetrating into his brain.
"Seras! Seras! Save me, sister!" He mentally called before his mind gone numb.
Author's Note: One month without updates? Seriously? I'm sorry for disappear. Call it lack of motivation or that pile of rejected ideas about how to come out of the sealing problem, which resulted in this absurdly long chapter. Also, this was a huge narrative experiment, cookies if you find out why. Cookies also if you tell me it's unclear (I'll fix it if it's the case).