In the closed-off environment of the building, it was hard to tell time. There was no clock, no windows, only dull white lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the training room. His team had all gathered there, each pretending to be getting a workout in while discreetly keeping an eye on him. The only one who couldn't be bothered to hide his interest was Asim. The giant had occupied a bench and was shamelessly studying his every movement, and Geralt didn't know if he should be bothered or amused. He continued to run through drills until a stringent beeping sound made them all stand at attention.
"Come on, they have it! Time to put that sword through something real," Terry shouted at him from the far corner of the room. The rest were already on their way to the armoury to collect their weapons and ammunition.
The gods had answered his prayers. They were going on a hunt, and he still felt relatively normal. After hours of training, he had only a faint muscle ache. Maybe it had been stupid of him to waste his energy like that, but he needed something to keep his mind occupied. He had to remind himself to conserve his strength if he wanted to get back in one piece.
"What time is it?" Geralt asked the nearest man.
"Half-past twelve," C replied. "If all goes well, we might be back by the end of our shift. If not, we either get paid extra or we won't care cause we'll be dead." The man attempted to grin, but his teeth were so bad the smile looked ridiculous.
The drive seemed to take forever, but in the end, they reached their destination. A vampire had made its dwelling in an apartment in a poor area of town. The plan was to draw it to a nearby abandoned building. The information struck Geralt as odd. Regis was proof that some vampires could keep the company of humans, live among them, and learn to blend in, but he was the one and only example Geralt knew of. The idea that what - or who - he was about to hunt was like Regis, even in a small way, unnerved him. It wasn't fear, but something deeper that nagged at him. He never killed monsters that could be reasoned with, but this one he'd have to kill regardless. They hired him to do a job, and they expected results. His life might even depend on it. So, for the time being, he put aside his moral qualms; that was a guilt he'd deal with another day.
They charged one person with leading the vampire through the city using a piece of fabric soaked in their bait. The scent was irresistible for them and it was a sure-fire way to get the monster's attention. After that, they needed to stay ahead of it at all times, and keep a safe distance that didn't allow the vampire to see them. Once they were close enough to the setup area, they tucked the fabric in a sealed box and another team arranged for a decoy to take his place. Getting the timing precisely right was extremely important if they didn't want to lose the vampire's attention.
Another team cordoned off a secluded area under some pretence, and now Geralt and his team had to set the new bait inside a large, abandoned industrial building. They had chosen a sheep and Lisa explained that its heart rate was similar to a human's, making the decoy believable. The gentle mammals had the additional benefit of being easy to corral. She guided the animal to the centre of the hall, behind a parapet to hide it from view, and tied it to a pillar. The only thing left to do was to smear the synthetic blood over its coat. Lisa applied it, careful not to get any of it on herself. A handful was all she used - much less than Geralt imagined they'd need - but it was so potent, he could sense the metallic salty smell of blood from several meters away.
They took up positions hidden within the shadows of the dusty old building. Geralt and Adam remained on the ground floor, flanking the entrance on either side, while Asim stood closer to the bait. The others clambered up the stairs to offer cover from above. Now all they had to do was wait.
It didn't take long for the vampire to appear. An alpor from what he could tell. Geralt could see the slight ripples of the air around it as it moved; it had been smart enough to hide itself and was silently stalking toward the unsuspecting animal. Looking at Adam, Geralt nodded to the vampire's location. Unfortunately, the only thing he got back from him was a confused look. He didn't see it, none of them could see it. For all their technology, they were surprisingly unprepared. What he wouldn't have given for a Moon Dust bomb at that moment. Instead, he reached over his shoulder for the hilt of his sword and patiently waited for the alpor to get closer to him. A few more steps, he thought. One more.
The blade flew silently from its scabbard, careful not to let it catch the light before striking. He covered the distance in a few quick steps and swung at the outline, aiming for the neck, hoping for a quick and clean kill. To his disappointment, the monster sensed his approach, and he only sliced into its shoulder. It was enough to make it bleed and howl in pain. Its camouflage failed and the rest of his team could see the vampire.
He spun out of the way in one fluid motion, hoping their bullets would take care of the work for him. Sure enough, shots rained down from above, piercing the creature's flesh, making it sizzle upon contact with the silver, but it wasn't nearly enough. The monster was robust, and now it was also enraged. It ignored Geralt altogether and jumped onto a platform at level with Lisa, Terry and C. Its piercing screech sent sound waves ripping toward the group, knocking the two men down and making them drop their weapons and cover their ears instead. They were as good as dead if he didn't get to them, but the platform was too high for him to make the jump. Time was short, and he had little hope of reaching them ahead of the beast. Fortunately, Adam had already taken aim at the monster, his shots firing in rapid succession. A few of the bullets hit their target, enough to make the beast turn its attention toward him for a few moments. Long enough for Geralt to make a quick climb to the platform, but not long enough for him to get between his fallen comrades and the beast. It looked with desperate, hungry eyes to the humans; it planned to feed to regain its strength.
For his own sake, Geralt needed to save his energy, but that meant someone would likely die. A quick choice had to be made: risk himself to save them or let them die. His fingers quickly formed the Sign of Aard and he focused as much power as he could into it. The effect pushed the monster back and dazed it enough for him to make another jump that landed him directly on top of it. His blade sliced through the flesh and bone of the ribcage, then with another blow he hacked off its head for good measure. He turned to check on the rest of the team. Adam and Asim were climbing the stairs, while the rest were gathering themselves off the floor.
"I think I ruptured an eardrum," complained C.
"What?" shouted Terry.
"Fuck, just what we needed. He never shuts up, and now he's gonna be loud as hell to boot," Adam muttered.
"What?" Terry repeated, and Geralt couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. He was feeling lightheaded and exhausted, but his mood had considerably improved. They'd make it back with time to spare, and he was already dreaming about taking a hot shower. Perhaps he'd buy some lunch and surprise Criss at the university. He needed her healing touch, but it wasn't just that; he missed her presence, the subtle fragrance of her skin and her reassuring smile.
He held out a hand to help Terry up, then C, and motioned to his wrist, hoping he would understand he was asking for the time.
"Half-past one."
"Perfect! I have somewhere else I need to be... and soon."
"First, we need to get back and fill out a report," Lisa cut him down quickly.
He nodded, dissatisfied. Doing paperwork sounded tedious.
His report was laughable, the sort that read as veni, vidi, vici. He was sure the rest would fill in the details of the gory encounter and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. Unfortunately, his rush proved fruitless, as he needed to wait for the van to drive them all back. Meanwhile, he was stuck there. He took this as an opportunity to visit the Director.
He found him at the same desk, looking over paperwork. This time, he didn't wait for an invitation and plopped down on the chair across from him. The man glanced over the rim of his glasses, unperturbed by his lack of manners.
"I trust you're happy with my work so far," Geralt said, confident.
"Indeed, you've proved yourself to be very skilled and... efficient."
"Then might I propose a shorter and more efficient workday for myself? All this waiting around doing nothing isn't sitting well with me and isn't producing any palpable results."
"I beg to differ. All this sitting around doing nothing builds camaraderie between team members. In your case, that is very needed."
"Perhaps that wouldn't be so needed if this team wasn't the same one that hit me over the head and locked me in a cell just a few days ago. But I assume it's no coincidence you paired me with them."
"It's not. I also had a purpose when I asked them to mistreat your friend."
Geralt's face darkened. Images of Adam's hands touching Criss flooded his mind and a righteous rage boiled within him.
"I can see the hate in your eyes despite your best efforts to appear unfeeling, and I apologize for my choice. I thought it necessary at the time."
"Groping and hitting a helpless woman was necessary?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"I needed to see what moves you. What makes you tick. If anything moves you at all. And I did." His fingers clasped together on the desk. "Mr. Rivia, I don't need mercenaries. I prefer to do this job with finesse and as few casualties as possible. In the past, my predecessors have made the error of hiring unscrupulous sorts. It led to what most would deem a massacre. It also led to the abrupt termination of the culpable team members."
"You mean execution."
"Yes, of course, but it is such an unpleasant word. My aim is to avoid future unpleasantness of the sort. I'm sure we understand each other."
"We do. I understand you quite well."
"Good. And now that you understand, I have another ask of you."
The Director paused for what seemed an unnecessarily long time. Geralt cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow in anticipation.
"The images from today's fight were impressive. I want you to train the rest of your team to use a sword the way you do. Of course, we'll generously compensate you for your time."
"You recorded it?"
"Body cameras help us improve tactics and identify mistakes so we don't repeat them."
Geralt's mouth twitched up in a derisive smile, thinking of his gruelling training.
"I have to refuse. For one, I don't have the equipment I need here, but I suppose that's not much of an impediment. You could build it, I assume. But even so, there is another obstacle and I'm afraid it's quite insurmountable... their age. The oldest trainee - that I know of - was 15 at the time. To achieve the agility necessary to fight an alpor or a bruxa, one would need to train incessantly for years. It's unrealistic to believe that any of your men can even come close to what is needed to survive a fight, let alone make a kill. Superficial training would only serve to embolden them to take needless risks for which they are not properly prepared."
"I see..."
"But, perhaps I can help you in another way."
"And I assume you'll want something in return..."
"No, not at all. I'll provide the information regardless, simply because I think it will save lives. The team was considerably under-prepared for the alpor we fought today. They had difficulties in locating the creature, let alone in fighting it. There is a mixture called Moon Dust. It comprises saltpetre and silver shavings in a four to one ratio, and it's very efficient in annihilating a vampire's cloaking magic. I suggest you produce as much of it as you can and equip them with it."
The Director gazed at him in silence.
"That is a useful piece of information. And you want nothing in return?" he asked sceptically.
"Take it as a sign of good faith on my part. If you choose to offer me something, let it be out of your own free will, not because I forced you to barter. For now, I'm content with the identity you've provided and I require nothing else."
"Thank you, I appreciate how forthcoming you are."
Geralt got up and attempted a smile. He was determined to make this job work as best he could and earning himself some goodwill was part of his plan.
"I'll go check how the rest are doing with their reports."
He got up and sauntered to the office where he had left them, but the room was now empty. After a cursory search, he found Asim and Adam sparring in the training room.
"Where are the rest?" he asked Adam.
"Terry and Cecil are getting their ears checked and Lisa went off to get a CT scan."
"Cecil?"
"Yea, C is for Cecil. He doesn't like the name tho. Thinks it's not badass enough, so we just call him C."
"Do we need to wait for them?"
Adam shrugged and took his eyes off Asim for a moment, which led to him getting punched in the gut. Geralt imagined the giant's enormous fist must have hurt just as much as a hammer.
"Holy... fuuuu... Give me a minute, you asshole!" Adam shouted at the giant, who was preparing to land another punch. Asim grinned and backed away, then looked at Geralt and decided to speak.
"We usually leave together, but Lisa's medical visit will probably take a while, so we won't wait for her today. The rest are bound to be back soon enough. Meanwhile, maybe you'd like to get in the ring? Have a bit of fun?"
"No thanks, I like my ribs just the way they are."
Since he got back from their vampire hunt, he had been feeling increasingly weak and lightheaded. That Aard had taken a lot out of him and he wasn't planning on doing any more fighting until he got back to Criss. Instead, he sat on a bench and watched the two men get at it. It was entertaining to watch, more of a dance than a fight. Adam was agile and moved around Asim, trying to outmanoeuvre him without getting nicked. Asim, on the other hand, had a large reach due to his sheer size, and that made any attempt at a hit come with a huge risk of a painful counter punch.
He followed the movements of the fighters, conserving his energy as much as possible, but it wasn't enough. His body was drained and his mind was drowsy. He laid back on the bench and drifted into sleep.
He dreamt of himself in a dark place. His body was shrouded in dim light whilst shadows moved around him like ripples over water. As the light grew weaker, his body seemed to lose consistency. Is this what dying feels like? he wondered to himself. His hand reached out into the darkness, curious and unafraid; there was a sense of calm all around. Before he could touch the dark veil, someone caught his wrist and stopped him. It was a tall, dark-skinned man with indigo eyes, his black hair braided in many strands, weaved with thin silver wires. His voice echoed loud in his head despite his lips not moving.
"Not yet! Your sacrifice is still needed!"
"Who are you?" Geralt asked, but his own voice sounded hoarse and weak.
"A guardian." The man's eyes flickered gold and Geralt felt energy pour into him. His body regained its form and the dim light grew brighter and stronger.
He woke up to Adam's face staring down at him.
"Whoa, man! When you sleep, you really don't mess around! A marching band could pass by you and you'd still be snoring! It's time to go."
He sat up, feeling refreshed. Not quite at full capacity, but incomparably better than before falling asleep.
"That was fast. I thought I'd have more time to rest."
"Fast? It's been a little over two hours. Don't know how you slept in full armour on a bench so thin. I would have ended up on the floor within the first five minutes."
Geralt shrugged in response. What could he say? That he could sleep on a tight wire if he needed to?
"Thanks for waking me up," was all he said in the end.
He accompanied him to the locker room, where the rest were already changing into their civilian clothes. He did the same and packed his armour in the duffel bag, thankful his first day ended with him in one piece and without too many complications.
