Zwischenzug

The first thing that comes is the sound. He heard the rushing of the wind as he jumped. The ground came up to meet him. A thud. Roll. Pull the chute in. Tidy everything up. Get equipped. Move out. Regroup with the platoon. Get to the objective. It was easier said than done. They had landed in swampland, and his boots were soaked along with his backside. The jump was not what he expected, but he had to get over it. Push it down. Move on.

There was a fence ahead of them. He got his bayonet out and used it on his scabbard to cut the wire. He worked until there was a hole large enough for them to move through. They were at the airport in force. Moving through and establishing a command post with the Rangers. Intelligence was gathered. The situation was weighed. The airport was theirs. They now had to attack the surrounding outposts. Companies geared up. Men marched on. Platoons got into formation. Rifles were checked. It was time.

They drew fire. Each fight was intense and short-lived. He remembered seeing one of his friends go down. Rushing over. Watching him die. Other members of the platoon were wounded. They were tended to. His blood boiled. Most of the enemy surrendered after realizing they were outnumbered. Some fled. His platoon pursued. Several men ran into a house, firing wildly back at them. He told his team leader. The team leader told him to shell the building.

So he did. He lobbed 40mm grenades into the building. Through the windows. Like he had been trained to do. Like he had mastered on the range. His team moved in. Time to clear it out. Confirm the threat was gone. They checked the ground floor. The soldiers were dead. A family was too. He saw them. A mother. A little girl. A father. A dog. Torn up. Bloody. Eyes glazed over. Staring at nothing. Sprawled out. Missing pieces of themselves.

He stared. The image burned into his brain. The family. Dead. Nothing he could do. Something inside him broke. Snapped. His team. His buddies. They pulled him outside. Told the platoon leader. Told him not to worry. Told him to get on with the mission. Told him that it was war. He didn’t understand it. He never would. He bottled it up. Like he was told to. Bottled it up and walked away. Back to the line. Back in the fight. Keep moving. Keep going. But the bodies went with him. He carried them. Every day. Every night. Every time he closed his eyes. They were there. In that blown out room. Every. Single. Time.

Somewhere else

Cliff sat up. He caught his wind and steadied his breathing. The pounding of his heart inside his chest was all he heard for a few minutes. His head smarted. They had knocked him out to get him into the car. It was all coming back to him now. But his hands were tied. He was restrained to a pole in the middle of some empty open area behind a few large buildings. The sky was black as rain came down. He looked himself over and realized that he was now wet.

“Perfect.” he muttered to himself.

He sighed and took deep breaths. The thoughts of his past were melting away with the realization of his current predicament. There were voices in the air, muffled from the walls of the building. Not that he could understand them anyway, as he could make out the tone and inflection of the Japanese language. Whatever they were talking about certainly had them animated enough to hear through the walls. He tried the ropes but they wouldn’t give. His military training kicked in. He knew it was a long shot, but there wasn’t much else to do, so he started to shift the rope up and down against the pole.

It wouldn’t be the most efficient method, but Cliff didn’t have a lot of options. There was no telling how long he’d be left alone for. As he rubbed the rope along the wooden pole, his eyes scanned the immediate surroundings. Now that they were used to the dark, he could see more clearly. There were a lot of doors and trash, but no sure way out. The rope itself was thin, which was favorable at the moment. But it dug into his wrists as he tried to pull it taut. It wasn’t giving just yet.

The sound of something landing above him made him stop. He looked up. Eyes glowed in the reflection of light from the surrounding buildings. He couldn’t make out the shadow, but his heart rate spiked. He started to work the rope a bit faster. The sooner he was free, the sooner he could leave this place. His mind followed that train of thought for a while. How exactly would he escape? Maybe there was a door unlocked? It was a long shot, but he’d rather not go and deal with the yakuza.

There was a noise. The sound of footsteps and someone speaking were getting closer. Cliff was still having a hard time with the rope. Something landed next to him. He whirled his head to see the eyes again. In the faintest light, he saw a fox staring at him. It walked over and started nibbling at the rope as he pulled it this way and that. Soon enough, it broke. He pulled his arms around, free from the knot, and rubbed his wrists absent-mindedly.

The fox scampered out into the middle of the lot. It looked back at Cliff, and then ran off. It jumped onto the nearby overhang, clawed up onto a ledge, and over a roof. It turned around and sat on the ledge, staring at Cliff. The priest hadn’t any real idea what to do, but something struck him. He had a golden opportunity right now, and it wouldn't be a better time to dig up some real actionable intel. All he had to do was sneak in and see what he could find.

Cliff checked his person. He didn’t have anything on him usually beyond a pocket knife, his wallet, and a set of keys. The keys were back in his field parka, but his wallet was still there along with his pocket knife. They must not’ve frisked him while he was out, which was lucky on his part. He went to the nearest door and listened. When he was satisfied that no one was waiting on the other side, he opened it and peeked through the doorway. He visually confirmed the lack of any yakuza presence.

Sneaking around wasn’t his forte in the military. He was a paratrooper. He’d been trained in assaults and rifle proficiency. Sustainability behind enemy lines was touched on, but he never went through Survival Evasion Resistance and Escape School. He was taking a lot of risk with this, but that was the whole job. And that, more than anything, was something he was used to.

The halls were dark and dank. It was an office of sorts, which seemed rather odd to Cliff. He was used to the mafiosos back home operating out of bars and restaurants. This was eerie, in all honesty. He crept through the office ground floor and heard some noise ahead. He slowly approached a door, which he thought was the origin of the sound, and listened. There was some kind of groaning. Maybe it was Sable, or someone else that got caught. He noticed there was a lock on the door. Luckily, Brooks had shown them how to get past that the other day.

Cliff took his pocket knife to the lock. He jimmied it around like he had been told, until something gave and the lock broke, rotating freely. He pulled the door open and noticed several hunched over people standing in the dark room. His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to make out the vague shapes. They all looked at him with glowing green eyes, and suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

“Oh fuck…” he dared to breathe to himself.

Elsewhere…

“It won’t work.” Takahiro said, exasperated.

“Why not?” Phillip shot back, “It’s not like we need to keep him around any longer.”

“His body is purified by another magic. He will not be able to become the conduit we need for the ritual.”

“Well let’s bump him off and be done with it, then.”

“We need to know where the witch is, first. What of the others?”

“No use. They gave us the slip in the mountains. We don’t know where they went.”

“A shame. The witch would be the perfect conduit. We must have her.”

“Yeah yeah, Bob’s your uncle. I gotta run.”

“As you wish.”

Phillip headed out and grabbed a few of his associates on his way out. He was not very fond of sticking around any longer than he had to. Japan was a very hostile country when it came to their kind. Not that it made much difference. Wherever he went, it was always the same story. The whole world had learned of their existence during World War I. Special units were secretly made to test the abilities of supernatural creatures on both sides. Tactics were further developed and refined in World War II.

He had been part of it. Back in the day, he had tried out for the SOE. He was quite good at espionage, but they kicked him to the curb after the war. A lot of the other neckbiters started getting into the organized crime business after the war. It really soiled their reputation, as they started running blood banks and getting into the local farms. All to try to keep a nice pipeline of blood going to their friends to keep them from feeding on regular people. Of course, that didn’t stop the occasional fresh snacking, but it was certainly better than the alternative.

The British parliament didn’t see it that way. After a string of medical malpractice accidents, the racket was uncovered. It was a huge scandal that rippled worldwide. Soon enough, the rest of the countries in Europe were getting tighter with restrictions on vampires. In Western Europe, they were even quarantined or admitted to asylums. In Eastern Europe, militias formed overnight to hunt them down, and most went on unchecked by local police. Anyone who objected was thought to be in league with them.

America quietly began to investigate its own vampire population too. It didn’t go over as well when many of the vampires outed themselves as hardened veterans of World War II, most of whom were decorated for heroism. America always had a soft spot for its warriors. After extensive and exhaustive years of persecution, many of the supernatural beings tried to go back to hiding. But Phillip, and those like him, saw it as a betrayal from the country they worked so hard for in war. It didn’t take long for them to start assembling at night and discuss what to do with the humans and their leadership.

That was how he got started in it all, and he became very good at what he did. Phillip sired a few vampires himself, and had a good many thralls to work with. Sadly, the American CIA took notice, and MI6 was hot on their heels. They had forced them into hiding. Even now, when they were so close to their goal, their shadow loomed over them. It didn’t matter now, though. He knew what to do next.