So many visitors and hits o_o Never thought my story would get that much attention.
Thanks to Wolfstar04 for maybe the most amusing (but also appreciated) review I ever got.
As always, I hope you enjoy. I'm always open for reviews and constructive criticism ;)
Chapter 12: Dust in the wind
Edinburgh, Scotland, September 15th, 2016
Anderson hadn't said a word the whole day. It was if the world around him just didn't exist. The last thing he had said to them was if they would come to Kenzy's funeral. So here they were.
It was cold up here, and the wind rushed over them. Lisa moved a little closer to her brother, who laid an arm around her. Despite the coats, he too was shivering. The wind just seemed to go through the fabric. On the positive side, his icy hands numbed the pain. The wound refused to heal properly which could be as well a personal offense. His mother, Laura, a doctor herself, had claimed this to be normal, but he had his doubts.
The ceremony was long over and the few guests – the majority elderly people from the home Kenzy had lived in – were long gone. The grave was closed up and covered in wreaths decorated with violet and gold. The unofficial colors of Iscariot.
Paladin
Kenzy Greer
12. 9. 1902 – 12. 9. 2016
Returned to the Lord's bosom
It had been Enrico's idea to add the word "paladin". It was better than just "sister". Kenzy had been more than just a nun. She was a hero. Her burning blue eyes were still very fresh in his mind. It had been only three days after all. But he was fairly sure that image would never fade, no matter how far time took them. He had barely known her... but Anderson seemed happy about it.
Dying on your birthday. Nice present. The sarcasm didn't really help. Seeing his teacher devastated like that... it was scary. But Kenzy had been happy to die. She deserved to rest in peace.
They all started when Anderson eventually stood up. Heinkel, Yumiko and Lisa had never met Kenzy personally. Enrico wasn't sure if they knew themselves why they had come all the way to Scotland, while Renaldo, who had known Kenzy as a teacher and friend, had stayed in Rome. But Enrico knew. Anderson had always been there for them. Time to return the favor.
The giant paladin stood in front of the grave and looked at it for a while. Then he turned around abruptly, almost knocking Heinkel and Yumie over. "Ah'll tak ae walk. Alone." He was almost out of hearing range when he stopped again and said quietly: "Thank ye, kids."
They waited in silence until he was gone. The four left exchanged uncomfortable glances. Enrico was the one who broke the silence: "Let's get back inside. It's freezing." The three women gladly obliged. They would stay the night in the home for elderly nuns and clerics where Kenzy had lived and then return to Italy. This Millennium thing was not over, not even at its peak.
They entered the home and were greeted by warmth and the smell of tomato soup. They passed a few of the funeral goers but neither of them greeted. Kenzy obviously had not had many friends. She had literally been the last of her generation and the rumors of Iscariot's work always created a bit of uneasiness among outsiders. Aside of that, the four were probably the youngest people in the vicinity of three miles. Even the owners of the home were at least in their fifties, as were the nurses.
They sat down in a kind of small living room where they were more or less alone. Enrico was glad he could take off the gray coat that had turned out to be no great help in this weather. The purple scarf (Violetto Iscariot, Laura Maxwell had called it when she gave it to him one Christmas) on the other hand had kept him a good deal warmer. Wait... When had that been? The last Christmas they had spent in Richmond. The year their mother had discovered knitting and was doing barely anything else in her free time. Had it already been three years?
Lisa seemed to read his thoughts, like so often. "You think we can go home? After this... situation is over?" The dull grayness of the day had seeped into all of them. Lisa sounded like a scared child.
"Si, certo." What were the next steps? The Holy Father was preparing, the other sections would be on the move soon, so Enrico had nothing to do with it for now. But the inflow of information was so slim, that was what they needed to change. The reports were good, but they were seventy years old. Hellsing would probably send their own agents in. But he couldn't rely on them just as he couldn't rely on Section VIII to pass him all information. Cornelius was not to be trusted, even though Enrico didn't think he would work with Millennium. If Cornelius worked at all for now. The news of him falling down a staircase and breaking his ankle had not failed to cheer Enrico up. Of course he immediately sent his colleague a greeting and a "Get well soon". The mere thought of the old bishop's reaction was enough to bring him through this dreary day. The question was, who would he send?
Outside, it had begun to rain. Anderson would be soaked, even if he was just five minutes away.
Enrico still hadn't gotten a look into the files Kenzy had given him. Left him. After calling Renaldo and returning the car to Section V he had gone home, put the briefcase on a chair, made himself a hot chocolate and worked on the sword. After that didn't work out he cleaned up the whole apartment until Lisa came home. The only thing left untouched was her chaotic room. Contrary to the stereotype, he was the orderly one of them. He hadn't really been in the mood for chick flick talk but she had bugged him until he surrendered and told her pretty much anything. Except the sword. He left that out, even though she was not happy about it. So much for having no time for talking. But he had to admit, it felt good having someone else on board.
"Enrico?"
He snapped out of his thoughts. That seemed to happen often these days. "What?", he asked, his thoughts still on the matter of these reports about... whatever was necessary to create a regenerator.
Yumie was the only one wearing "official" clothes. Enrico had done with a dark blue shirt (not a good idea) with the clerical collar, Lisa and Heinkel were in civilian clothing.
"It's about Victoria. I want to take her on a hunt," Heinkel said.
Now she had his full attention. Yumiko's and Lisa's too. "Why that?"
"She's been bugging me with it for literally years. I just have a feeling it's about time. Before she gets any clever ideas."
"How do you want to explain that to Anderson?", Yumiko asked. She didn't agree with Heinkel on the necessity of training the girl, but as a good friend, she supported her anyway and for that the blond paladin was thankful. Before she could say more, the director's phone rang.
"Sorry. Just a moment." He took the call and stood up to walk around the room while listening to the caller. A habit most people seemed to share, except for Heinkel herself.
"Yes... I see. ...Si... Grazie. Ciao." He ended the call and returned to his friends.
"We've got a hit on possible allies of Millennium. It's in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Small club downtown, two or three vampires." He checked his phone, where he had already gotten an email with the data. "Called..." He had to smile. "Nightcrawler."
"Nice one," Heinkel remarked, grinning. "Vicky and I can take them."
"How do you want to explain this to Anderson?", Yumiko repeated. She wasn't happy at all. They would just end up killing people again. She would prefer to stay home if Heinkel had another partner this time. In the end they were doing the right thing. She just didn't want to hurt anyone in the process.
"Not if Anderson is on a mission himself," Enrico said.
Heinkel wasn't sure if she should be happy or angered that it was that easy. On the one hand she believed in what she said – Victoria was a time bomb. Heinkel could not deny the girl was the best student she had ever seen. Vicky was more than ready for her first mission. But Heinkel still hesitated to actually endanger her. But she couldn't rationally explain it and Anderson needed the distraction anyway. It was hard to imagine what it would be like to lose her teacher. She had lost her parents, yes, but she had been a small child back then.
"We need an agent in South America anyway," Enrico said. They were interrupted by a nun in her seventies and with a remarkably loud voice announcing that dinner was ready. The funeral had taken place in the afternoon and Anderson had sat there for what not just felt like a long time.
After an hour of incredibly annoying chatter old people were so fond of, horrible tomato soup (more like tomato acid) and the evening prayer, they all decided for themselves to call it a day. The girls shared a room near the garden, while Enrico and Anderson shared another one on the other side of the wing. Enrico was glad to leave the chatty old people behind. He wasn't in the mood for either smalltalk or suspicious glances.
The rain outside had turned into a thunderstorm. Anderson was still out there somewhere. Not that Enrico was worried about his safety that much. He was a regenerator. Which brought him to the subject. He took the briefcase and sat on the windowsill. Thunder crashed and lightning pierced the sky. For a few seconds, Enrico just listened to the sound of nature's wrath. He loved thunderstorms. The only thing he was missing for a relaxing evening was his cat in his lap, a good book and a hot chocolate. Alex (the cat, not the paladin) was astoundingly calm during storms like this. The perfect companion. He was in the care of Josephine Duvelle now, a retired paladin and former student of Anderson, who worked at the orphanage.
Enrico pulled himself away from the daydream and opened the briefcase. It was filled to the top with old reports. This would prove to be a long evening.
He started with the oldest ones. During the first minutes, it was difficult to read the uneven typing and scribbled remarks of the scientists. The first folder was about the test results on animals. Despite not being really gruesome, Enrico couldn't help a feeling of unease and dread. Then he got to the experiments done on a certain Paladin Kenzy Greer, 29 years old.
Kenzy had volunteered for the experiments, despite knowing of the pain it included and the chance she might not survive. She had. But maybe... maybe she shouldn't have.
Enrico only looked over the reports roughly, but what he read was more than enough to evoke chilling images he could have done without.
...subject stable, but in pain. Had to fix her to the bed to inject more of the serum.
...claims to have nightmares...
...screaming, scientist can barely work...
...almost lost the subject...
We broke the left arm today. Healing process is faster than average, but not groundbreaking. Need to reform the serum structure.
There was a transcript of an "interview" with Kenzy. Every movement and reaction was meticulously described.
Subject Kenzy Greer is fixed to the operating table. She is unconscious. Leading scientist is
The name was blackened out for some reason. Only the initials C.R. remained in front of every question or statement he made.
CR: Paladin Greer? Can you hear me?
KG: [moans, opens her eyes] Y-Yes. Who are you? [Subject tries to sit up and look around]
CR: My name is - How do you feel?
KG: What do I look like? [Subject seems to recognize the location. Starts to cry.] Oh God, no... Please, not again. Not anymore.
CR: We will inject you a new form of serum that should make you less sensible to intense pain. You are doing great.
KG: [still crying] My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?
CR: [subject is getting hysterical; lead sc. trying to calm her for the continuation of work] For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. The Lord is with you, Kenzy.
KG: Please make it stop, no more pain, I beg you.
[Lead sc. continues to murmur reassuringly, until subject KG stops struggling. He wipes away her tears with a handkerchief. Injects new serum. Slight violet glow, as reported before.
Subjects cramps and screams. . Wants to make test cut. Subject struggles and heaves; knife accidentally punctuates the eye.]
"Are you okay?"
Enrico screamed and jumped off the windowsill, the files fluttering all over the floor. Lisa stumbled back, wide-eyed, her hand still hovering in mid-air.
After a moment of shocked silence he could breath again. "Oh... Just you. You... you startled me." He laughed uncomfortably and hastily began gathering the papers again. He could only hope nobody had heard his childish and undignified reaction in the noise the thunderstorm made.
"What are you doing?" After a moment's hesitation, Lisa helped him. So much for the wonderful order the papers had been in.
"Reading the reports Kenzy gave me."
"Are they that scary?" Enrico cast her a short glance that answered her question more than she would have liked. "What... what did they do?"
Luckily, he had only strewn the papers about Kenzy everywhere. He found the last page of the report, complete with a recap of the experiment. It had been as successful as possible. Kenzy was alive and well again. Her wounds closed instantly, though she was still having cramps from time to time and she seemed unable to remember most of the procedure. The date was the 17th of March, 1933.
"Oh- Oh my God." Lisa's voice was shaking. She had randomly read one of the papers she had picked up. It happened to be a description of the experiments checking the pain levels and regeneration abilities. She got up and almost slammed the papers on the windowsill. "That's- That's not the work of God," she whispered. "That's just sadistic and inhuman." Enrico had nothing to say to that. Maybe she was right. But sometimes the end justified the means.
"Are you going to read the rest of it?", Lisa asked. She was staring out of the window. The storm was becoming weaker by now. Enrico joined her and almost hoped for Alexander to return, so he had an excuse for not reading more of this gruesomeness. But of course this was childish. End and means. It was that simple.
There's yin problem wi' all o' them. They're reckless. They'll dae anything if they think it's necessary. Ye hae tae protect them fae themselves. Kenzy had been old and her mind maybe not as trustworthy as she thought. Especially not after experiencing something like this.
Just get this over with, Enrico thought. He sat on the bed this time, Lisa at his side. The reports on Anderson they could understand in the midst of medical and biochemical jargon were far fewer but equally horrible. There was a different method that worked quicker, but only few were able to survive the pain that came with it. The results showed better healing than expected. That was thanks to Anderson's special constitution. Also, he didn't have a mental breakdown like Kenzy.
Enrico had only wanted to leaf through the reports. At that time of day he was in no shape to take in more of this lunacy. But the story unfolding, his teacher's story, his suffering in the name of God, had its own spell, repulsive as it was.
Eventually, he came across the photo of something that looked like a really ancient nail.
"The nail of Helena?", Lisa whispered, making Enrico jump. He had thought she had fallen asleep leaning on him. It wouldn't have been the first time.
The nail of Helena. A nail from Jesus' cross. This was almost too hard to believe. The report on it said they measured great power. It didn't get more specific than that, like how they measured it or what kind of power. The rest was a kind of anthology of legends, all somewhat different. They agreed on one thing though – if somebody could handle this nail, he would become more than human.
This had been enough weirdness for one evening, even by the standards of an Iscariot. Enrico wanted to put the papers back in the briefcase, when a note fluttered to the ground. It was less than half a page in a neat, but seemingly pained handwriting. On the sheet were only a few sentences. Kenzy's hands had been twisted by age. Writing this must have been agonizing.
Man is not made to be more.
The end doesn't always justify the means.
A monster of God is still a monster.
Alex.
Enrico stared at the last word. This one little phrase, just four letters, seemed to contain everything Kenzy had held dear in her life, every last emotion. He hadn't known her, but now it seemed-
The door was opened quietly, but in the calm after the thunderstorm it sounded like a pistol shot. Anderson was soaked to the bone. "Ye twae are still up?"
Lisa got up and Enrico hastily stuffed the papers into the briefcase again. "We wanted to wait for you."
"Thas nice o' ye," Anderson replied. He took off the long coat and shoes so he wouldn't make everything dirty. Or more dirty. Enrico passed him his bag and the paladin disappeared into the bathroom. Until he was finished, Lisa had returned to the room the three girls shared for this night. Heinkel and Yumie were already sleeping, their weapons next to them, in direct reach. After a while in this job, some things never left you. Enrico was lying on the bed, the documents stored away safely. It was the middle of the night, but he was wide awake. The reports had triggered pictures his overactive fantasy refused to let go. This would prove to be a long night.
Anderson laid down and shut off the lights. "Thanks fae waiting."
"No problem. You're going to be alright?" Should he tell him the next mission would go to Brazil soon? No. Not now.
"O' course." Anderson wanted to believe it himself. But even Enrico could hear he was not. "Whit were ye twae doing?"
Enrico felt like a schoolboy caught in the middle of a prank. But in the darkness, his teacher would not see any guilty reaction. What guilt, for that matter? As the chief, he had every right to do anything he wanted. "Oh, just a few files that need to be checked. Old stuff."
"Ah." After that, there was nothing. Enrico turned around and wondered if Lisa could sleep. She had always been a bit prone to lying awake after a nightmare. Her company would be a great relief. He certainly wouldn't be able to sleep for quite a while.
Just seconds later, he had drifted into darkness.
London, September 21st, 2016
The city was burning. It stank of blood, and smoke, and death. Corpses were strewn everywhere, walking corpses, a flood of them. Over them, the enormous zeppelins threatened. Explosions thundered, deafened her. Shadowy creatures crawled and scurried on the ground. In the midst: The Iscariots. They had been severely decimated, but at least she could see Heinkel and Yumie among them. Her friends were safe for now. They were too talented to just... die. Die like all the others. Lisa was standing high over the crumbling London, on the edge of a now emptied building. Her fear of heights – normally weak, but always there – was forgotten.
"Enrico?" She waited for his reassuring voice, his presence beside her, but she was alone. The hot, stinking wind made her coat flutter. "Brother!"
Then she remembered. Enrico was dead. Fallen off his high horse like Lucifer himself. It had taken only one bayonet to shatter his safety. Then she had been taken away. Just like he wanted it to happen. Rather him than her, he had said. And some part of her hated him for that. They were destined to stay together. Always and forever. Until the end.
Lisa felt tears burning in her eyes and wiped them away. She would have the time to cry when this was over. When they had fulfilled their purpose. When Enrico's dream was reality.
Catholic Britannia.
And for that, Anderson would defeat the godless creature that called itself Vladimira.
Lisa couldn't hear the words, didn't care to. But she saw the nail he held. The shock on the vampire's face. Words drifted to her. "A divine force of nature..."
Lisa saw light reflect in the nail of Helena. Was this the right thing? The battle had stopped. Everybody was watching Anderson and the vampire woman. The Iscariots, what might be left of the Last Battalion. Caitlyn. The Major. The maniac who was responsible for all of this. The monster that had pushed her brother over the edge. So there had been no choice but to take his life.
"...then Ah'll be happy tae abandon ma humanity." Anderson burrowed the nail in his heart. He fell to his knees. And the most awful thing Lisa had ever seen happened.
"Lisa! LISA!" Wasn't that Enrico's voice? Where? There was a shrill screeching in the background, like a terrified child. She was having hallucinations. Her brother was gone for good, along with all the crusaders, much of Iscariot, the damned vampires of Millennium and thousands of innocents.
Anderson and Vladimira were fighting. But no matter how large the damage, the thorns recreated the paladin's body. Until... until it was too much. Until the vampire ripped his heart out, the pulsing heart with the nail still in it. And squashed it like an insect.
Pain shot through her cheek. The screeching stopped. Lisa opened her eyes and saw a terrified-looking Enrico.
"What?", she managed. The room was sparse, with a wardrobe and three beds, one of them just a folding bed. They had drawn straws to decide who would get the cot. Heinkel had gotten the shortest straw, but didn't seem to mind. The Chaos Girls were up now, as was probably everyone in the whole house. With the difference that the paladins had their weapons drawn and were ready for a heavy fight.
"Are you alright?", her brother asked. Anderson was standing in the door, like a silent guardian. A guardian in giant striped pajamas, but a guardian nevertheless. The man she had just seen become a monster and then die horribly.
Just now Lisa noticed the tears on her face. She was drenched in sweat and shivering like in a fever. "A nightmare," she croaked. Her brother's worried expression softened. He sat down beside her on the bed and Lisa burrowed her face in his crumpled shirt. Just a nightmare. His arms encircled her and she finally grew calmer. But she wouldn't be able to sleep, that much was sure. At home she would just have cuddled up to her brother and after a while gone back to sleep knowing she was fine, but here this was not possible. She wiped her face. "Sorry for waking you." God, this was so embarrassing. She was an Iscariot for God's sake!
The clock said five in the morning. Great. Heinkel yawned and got up, putting on a very stylish jacket with the Chesire Cat's grin all over it. "Well now it's too late anyway. We can sleep on the plane."
"Too late for you," Yumie complained. She got back into bed and pointedly turned her back to them. Heinkel grinned, ignoring Lisa's burning face completely. "Let's go. The princess needs her beauty sleep." For that, she got a pillow in the face.
They were on the way to the small room they had already spent most of the time before. Anderson had decided, after making sure everybody was alright, to go back to bed. The corridors were empty. Either the residents had a good sleep or didn't want to be bothered.
Lisa held Enrico's hand all the time. She was back in reality now – at least she hoped so – but the feeling of loneliness was just so fresh in her mind. Had it just been a dream? Or a bit more? Enrico knew she was having these nightmare, had had them all her life. When her parents died in a car crash when she was eight it had gotten worse and worse. Post-traumatic stress disorder, the psychologist called it. Lisa never told them she had had the dream before the car crash. After a while she wasn't even sure anymore. The only thing she accomplished over time was not screaming every time she woke up. Until she was adopted by the Maxwells. Then Enrico was there to protect her. It was a miracle. Two children, complete strangers, growing so close in barely weeks.
Lisa flinched – though not the only one – when somebody stepped in their path. The woman's long hair was still astoundingly dark and full for her age. She had a black cat in her arms that purred sleepily. "Ye youngsters are up early," the woman said, trying to minimize the Scottish accent. Her bright green eyes wandered over the little group, noticed the young bishop and his agent – that's what the others called them – holding hands and saw the tired, pale face of the young dark-haired girl. "Haed ae nightmare, darling?"
Lisa hesitated. "Yes."
"Explains ae lot. Jay here was restless the whole night. She can feel such things." The woman nodded at the cat, that now opened her eyes, yawned and jumped to the floor. Jay stretched and then proceeded to rub her head on Lisa's leg, purring loudly. After a few moments, a second cat looking pretty much the same but smaller, joined in.
"Take care before we all get smothered by cats," Enrico joked. The old woman laughed.
"May and Jay are normally not that open to strangers." She watched the two with so much love that Lisa automatically had to think of the "crazy cat lady" stereotype. Maybe it was true after all that women without children had to compensate somehow, though she had never felt that urge herself. Well, they did have a cat. "I think we didn't meet before," the old nun said. "Sister Cynthia. Ye're fae Iscariot, right?"
Lisa shot a glance at Enrico, who nodded. Sister Cynthia nodded as well, as if that was crystal clear. "The big one, that's Kenzy's Alex, right? She was always very proud of him." Kenzy's Alex. That sounded genuinely strange. Lisa wondered what the old paladin had been like.
"It's only sad fae thon left behind," Sister Cynthia said suddenly. "Kenzy is in the Lord's hands now and protecting those she loves." Are you sure? Lisa couldn't forget what every Iscariot knew on some level: They were damned to hell. They were killing, though in the name of the Lord. But killing was killing. Some sins you could never atone for. And Cynthia seemed to know that too. She was just too optimistic to think of it.
"Ah know wha' helps after ae nightmare, dear," she said warmly. "Ah'll make ye ae cup o' hot milk and honey and then ye might sleep ae bit more. Yer brother too." Now Lisa had a good idea how Enrico must have felt in the conversation with Caitlyn Hellsing. The old nun just smirked at them and went in the direction of the kitchen, the cats following her after a moment's hesitation.
Lisa blinked. Heinkel had to be pissed being ignored like that. But when she turned around, the corridor behind them was empty. "Where is Heinkel?"
Enrico seemed confused. "Showering. She told us, remember?"
"Oh." She ignored his smile and some comment she didn't want to hear, pulling him to the kitchen, where Cynthia was already preparing the milk. "I didn't wake you, right?", Lisa asked, rather embarrassed.
"Ah, nae. Ah was already awake. Sister Alison might complain, but these days she's complaining aboot everything. Naebody haes tae be embarrassed aboot ae nightmare ye cannae control."
Lisa sighed. Some part of her wanted to ask how the nun had guessed them to be siblings, but then again she didn't really care. It was a lot better than all those stupid rumors going around.
"Ah've been wi' Section VIII fae years. Still Cornelius at work?" Lisa leaned against her brother and let the conversation drift past her without listening. There was a soft vibration every time Enrico spoke. Now, in the figurative light of day, her dream seemed ridiculous. Had she actually believed for a few moments to be able to see the future? God sending her signs? Nonsense. She shouldn't have read those horrible reports late at night, simple as that.
She was startled out of her half-sleep when Enrico gently nudged her. Cynthia carried two steaming cups and brought them into the "lounge". Lisa hadn't seen the sign next to the door before and the room was a bit too small for a lounge, but fair enough. They sat down on the sofa, exactly where they had sat hours before after the funeral.
"Ye hae surely ae wee bit tae talk aboot."
"Thank you," Enrico replied. Then Cynthia left. Lisa laid down, her head in her brother's lap. The drink was too hot anyway. "Want to tell me what you dreamed?", he asked.
She stared past him at the ceiling. This was ridiculous. Nothing more. "Not now. I... I was scared. And people died." Two furry weights, one small, the other one slightly bigger, landed on her and laid down. Her body seemed to vibrate with the deep purring. She was exhausted.
All she could hope for was a dreamless sleep. And that her nightmare would never come true.
Hellsing mansion, London, September14th, 2016
"Get your hands off me, idiot!"
"Mais non, ma chérie, we're all friends here. Okay guys, let's sing the eskimo-song!"
Seras groaned. Night had fallen quite a while ago and the lamps only provided the least of light. That was the point of this training. They were practicing constantly, with great results, some better than the old troop. Unfortunately, Pip Bernadotte was also a lot more uncontrollable and childish, as his fiancee knew quite well. Seras' face lit up considerably when she saw Caitlyn approaching the shooting stand. "Lady Hellsing! Could you please tell them to stop singing this filthy song? They don't seem to listen to me."
Caitlyn didn't need to hear more than one line to understand Seras. But that was probably how it was among so many men, right? "Alright guys, stop it, okay?" She had to yell to be heard over the gunfire. The men laughed, but stopped singing.
Men of few words are the best men. Caitlyn had to disagree. Men of few words were a sad bunch. ...Was it such a good idea to have a personal bond to them?
"Do you want to give it a try, Lady Hellsing?", Pip Bernadotte asked. Caitlyn hesitated. She hated guns. It was not even that she was incredibly untalented with technical things. She just had no urge to try. She hated the weight, and the noise and pretty much everything about it. But with Millennium coming up she obviously had no other choice. Thanks to Mira she found at least a spot of fun in fencing, but that didn't make her awfully good.
"Why not?", she sighed. "But don't you dare laugh at me! I haven't done this in an eternity." In fact, she had never wielded a gun. She had refused to, which in retrospect might have led to the first dissonance with the rest of the Round Table. Aside from the fact that they had not wanted her to get the post in the first place. Not that she had been dead-on focused on becoming a leader of such a weird thing as Hellsing organization. She had been a confused, introverted, sixteen year old orphan. Now she was a slightly less confused, (pretending to be) confident, twenty-two year old woman with something like a family she could rely on. She defended herself as well as she could. Just out of principle. And because she had nowhere else to go to.
Pip handed her a small caliber gun. "Try that target." The plate with the shape of a man was about twenty meters away. It was almost lost in the gloom. Caitlyn fixed her eyes on the target and tried to look professional.
Try to set the right foot a bit further in front of you. Aim, shoot and then hold the gun for a moment longer.
Aiming, shooting, holding. Caitlyn pushed her right foot forward, praying she was standing steadily, and pulled the trigger. The recoil was a lot weaker than she had expected and she directed the muzzle downward on accident. The bullet hit the pretend-man right between the legs.
Groaning and laughter among the men. "That's one way of taking somebody out," Seras commented, grinning. "He won't have any need for you eskimo song ever again." More laughter. Caitlyn lowered the gun and hoped nobody could see her burning face in the twilight.
"Not a bad shot." For a beginner, the voice finished the sentence in Caitlyn's head. The men froze. Mira was wearing that suit and the hat again which always looked like it should rather belong to a man. Caitlyn wasn't sure if she should be more worried about the vampire getting into her head or why she was worrying about questions of fashion in times like these.
"Did you get bored?"
"Somewhat. It's not that there's an awful lot to do."
"Well then you will be happy to hear that we are flying to Brazil tomorrow. That is, Walter and you are." Why was Mira smiling like that? "The Iscariots are sending someone in, but it would be stupid to rely on them." Aside of that, Mira is bored like hell. And I have the Round Table on my ass.
"Are you sure that is a good idea?"
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, trying to look as much an authority as she should be. "Why is that?" The thought came to her the same instant. Can he cross water? That had never been an issue as far as she knew. Walter had been a vampire for... what? Seventy-two years? Pretty much on the day. But what did she know how powerful he really was?
Powerful enough. It's not that.
- Get. Out. Of. My. Head!, Caitlyn almost snapped. How about a normal, decent conversation?
"How about you take those guys instead?" She made a motion to the Wild Geese that didn't seem too comfortable around Mira. Not that Caitlyn had expected that. Mira liked scaring the hell out of people. Walter too, but at least he mostly kept to Caitlyn's orders, which included not scaring the crap out of people if possible. Especially her.
Mira just smiled. "They'd only slow me down. ...But you two, maybe. At least I would have a bit of company then." She snapped against the brim of Pip Bernadotte's hat, making it fly away. Seras caught it, seeming a lot more pleased than her fiancee.
"Fine then," Caitlyn announced. "Everybody else is on liaison duty." She waited for complaints and got none. She gave Captain Bernadotte the gun. "Another time." When she was a bit better. It was late, but better she started training at all. God, how much she hated this. "And don't sing, okay?" Laughter and salutations bid her farewell when she walked back to the mansion, Mira at her side, away from the noise and the stink of gunpowder or whatever it was.
"So you'll take Seras and Pip?", Caitlyn eventually asked.
"Any objections, master?"
"Why not Walter? If you encounter hostile forces..."
Mira smiled. "Ask him yourself. I'm sure he would be more than happy to accompany me... to a country less sunny."
"Ah." The goddamn sun problem. Brazil was basically one of the sunniest countries she could think of. She could have thought about that before. "What about you?"
"Lady Caitlyn, I told you before. To me, sunlight is not some great enemy. I just hate it."
That's what he always says too. "Not as much as Walter, apparently."
She laughed. "He's young."
Caitlyn stared at her for a moment. Young. Of course. Sometimes she thought she would never learn anything from working with these two. Young, for God's sake.
It was more than time to go to bed.
"Caitlyn?" She yawned and buried her head into the pillow. Just a few more minutes. It was weekend. She had such a strange dream, it could be a book. Lady Dracula, Hellsing, Millennium, Iscariot, the fact that she had fallen in love first with a vampire and then with a bishop... What a joke. She was just sixteen. Just another orphan nobody really cared about and who didn't know what to do with her life. The only thing she had was an overactive fantasy, obviously.
"It's eight o'clock." Caitlyn shot up. Crap. Miss Evangeline would be so pissed if she didn't show up on time. Not to mention she would get no breakfast. What chores were due for today? She couldn't remember anything. Homework, then?
"Lady Caitlyn?" She screamed when she met red eyes in the twilight. Walter stared at her with wide eyes. "Uhm... Lady Caitlyn?", he repeated. She looked around. A big chamber with high windows, all closed off with curtains for now, a huge bed for her alone
(There would be space for a nice guy...
...Wait. What the hell, Cait?!)
... other furniture way too expensive for any normal person. Walter, looking impeccable like always, was standing next to the bed, just a fourteen year old boy with eerily glowing eyes. When she first slept in this house, he had woken her with breakfast in bed. At first, Caitlyn had liked the thought, but then it soon felt uncomfortable. She just wanted to be normal again. But this was her normal now. And to be honest she didn't know what to do with her life. She had finished school, but this was her job now. She didn't even know how normal people on their own lived.
"...Mira and the others are waiting, right?" She sighed and got out of bed.
"What do you want for breakfast, milady?"
Caitlyn still had to smile about this. This sounded like a servant in the Victorian ages. Or in Black Butler. That was a series she did enjoy, despite not being Shakespeare. Though she had her doubts Sebastian would be able to beat Walter. "Same as always. Thank you." He vanished. Caitlyn went to the bathroom and then changed her clothes to a blouse and jeans. Just when she was done with that she opened the curtains and tidied her clothes and hair and eventually the room, too. She always had the feeling somebody would chide her if she didn't.
After a quick breakfast she hurried to the "private meeting room" - the one she had met the Wild Geese in for the first time. Mira awaited her sitting on a black coffin – hers. That creepy thing Caitlyn didn't really want to be near. The vampire was wearing a business suit with a red shirt, the collar opened just enough to be a bit cheeky, her hair falling over her shoulders like black silk. Caitlyn felt a sting of envy.
"Nice outfit."
"Well, I can't go for a plane ride without fitting in. It would make me a walking billboard for our foes." Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. If the vampire could read her thoughts anyway, why bother? Do you think you look like an ordinary person now?
This time, of course, Mira didn't react. Caitlyn studied the smooth ebony surface of the coffin. It was framed with gold. A small golden cross was on the top half, with an inscription that literally looked like Greek. On the bottom there was another one, equally illegible. She didn't ask and obviously everybody had been clever enough to keep their mouths shut as well.
"Lady Vladimira? We need to make the coffin transport-ready." The man was called Joker by his friends. He nodded friendly at Caitlyn, but kept an eye on Mira.
Lady Vladimira? Holy crap. She certainly knows how to get her groupies to do what she wants.
Mira stood up. "Of course." She gave them a charming smile.
"How are you planning to get that through customs?", Caitlyn asked, frowning. Not to speak of the firearms.
"There shan't be any," Walter said.
"Why not?"
"Because it's a smuggling vessel."
"It'z ze same smugglers we always use," Captain Bernadotte explained.
"As long as they are paid, they are reliable," Seras said, though not looking terribly happy. "God, I hate flying," she muttered.
"Zen you should choose a different job," her fiancee teased, ruffling her hair. Caitlyn looked from them to Mira and wondered what the vampire was thinking about. She had Walter now, right? The thought stung a lot less than Caitlyn had expected.
"Fine then," she announced with more vigor than she actually felt. "Mira, Seras, Pip, you are our agents in South America. Try to find out as much as possible about Millennium. Work with the Iscariot agents should you meet them, but be careful. We can't trust them, but we don't want a fight." Caitlyn had to think of the records done by the former Hellsings. She hadn't been sure what to feel when she encountered what seemed to be their motto: Search and destroy. She saw Mira's eyes light up when she caught that phrase.
This was not like her. But what choice was there? "Gather information... and if you encounter Millennium... destroy them. Try not to die." The last phrase was more directed at Pip and Seras. Laughter. Mira bowed, her eyes gleaming. "Yes, Master." Caitlyn watched the preparations for a while. What else was there to do except informing the rest of the Round Table? Or better the queen directly. She didn't trust Walsh or Irons. Maybe she should go through the reports of the Vatican again. After all, the gaps in the narrative would maybe, just maybe give her a few hints at what the Vatican kept secret.
Everything we love will fall to dust. Well, for a really bad case there was still Walter to defend them, which was probably good enough, even with Mira out of country. She turned around and walked in the direction of her office. The paintings on the wall stared at her, people she still didn't know much about. Her heritage was a puzzle, a closed door, she never had the guts to try.
"Who do you think are the traitors?", she asked.
Walter hesitated. "Milady?"
"Stop calling me that. You know I don't like it. Who has betrayed us to those monsters? At least some must have a good deal of influence."
"Well... some suspect Sir Penwood."
Caitlyn thought of the stocky, shy man with the nervous eyes. "He's not a traitor."
"You are in the minority with that opinion."
"He's got no personality for his kind of job. But he's not a traitor. But neither are Walsh or Irons. No Round Table member, as far as I see that." Maybe she was relying too much on what she thought she could read in the people. Was the Vatican struggling with the same problems? For sure. Like the mystery man Caitlyn had had the honor to meet. So not just traitors to Millennium, but to the counterpart organizations too. Welcome to the world of politics.
"What about our contact with the Vatican?"
"The archbishop of Canterbury?"
Caitlyn sighed. Who had thought up that system? "No, I mean Enrico Maxwell. Would be a lot easier to have direct contact." They could have exchanged phone numbers. Caitlyn had been too distracted to think of that, but he hadn't mentioned it either. Now she probably had to go through the Round Table or at least Iscariot's secretary (did they have one?).
"We were sent this." Walter handed her a letter. Caitlyn had to smile. Either he liked writing letters or his wounded hand didn't allow him much typing. In it, there was only a small sheet, scarcely more than a note. On it was an email-adress on the Vatican server, a phone number... and a smiley.
Caitlyn frowned. She would have to check, but... that was not the same handwriting like in the first letter. Maybe Lisa wrote it? Or someone completely different.
Maybe she should ask him who he had sent to Brazil. Definitely not Lisa. Maybe they could prevent another unasked for encounter. Right, she still hadn't talked to Mira about that. She had some doubts about that being very effective anyway.
Search and destroy. With enemies like that, she had no choice. People would die. There was no way around it. All she could do was keeping the innocents out of it.
But still she couldn't silence the voice inside of her asking: Did I do the right thing?