Chapter 21: Taking the Bait
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDojyPj8OPd
Cristiãn heard the click as Razvan disconnected the call. He put his cellphone down and accelerated his car, heading to the location that Razvan gave. He soon began receiving phone calls from Nadja and Lucian. Cristiãn ignored their calls as he hurried to his destination. It took him twenty minutes to get to the garage. He promptly parked his car and stowed Cassidy’s gun and cellphone in the glove compartment then set off on foot for the intersection Razvan directed him to.
Cristiãn waited on the southeast corner of Third Street and River Avenue as instructed. He was there for little more than a minute when he received another call from Lucian. Without greeting or hesitation, he answered and spoke his mind.
“Things are going to change, Lucian” Cristiãn advised somberly. “You need to prepare yourselves.”
Cristiãn listened briefly to Lucian’s wrath before laying down his last words.
“I’m doing what I must. You need to start hiding—all of you.”
Before Lucian could respond, Cristiãn disconnected the call. Two more calls vibrated in his hand over the next three minutes. Shortly after the second one, Cristiãn watched a black four door Buick La Crosse turn onto River Street and roll forward at an unhurried pace. The side and rear windows were heavily tinted. Cristiãn saw two men sitting in the front seats as the car pulled up to him and stopped. The passenger window rolled down, and a man that Cristiãn had never seen before looked out at him.
“Get in,” the man said gruffly.
Cristiãn examined the man for a moment with a suspicious stare. He was thin with a scarred and pot marked face. Cristiãn perceived him as a man of minimal education and a possible violent felon. From what he could see of the driver, he appeared to have less distinctive features but physically more impressive.
“Who are you?” Cristiãn challenged.
“Pritchard sent me,” the man in the front passenger seat reported with a scowl. “Get in.”
Cristiãn needed to hear no more than Razvan’s fake name that he used in the mortal world. He opened the back door to the sedan and climbed in. As soon as he had seated himself, his phone began to vibrate. The man in the front passenger seat turned and looked back at Cristiãn in response to the sound.
“What’s that in your hand?” The man asked.
“It’s my cellphone,” Cristiãn answered as he held it up. “I was expecting a call from Razvan.”
“Who?” The man asked as he took the cellphone from Cristiãn.
“Pritchard.”
The man in the front passenger examined the cellphone then pressed and held the power button until the phone turned off. After that, he put the cellphone in his coat pocket and began to scrutinize Cristiãn as he barked orders.
“Open your coat.”
“Pull up your pant legs.”
“Turn around… Put your knees up on the seat.”
Cristiãn complied with the orders so that the man could search him for weapons beneath his clothing.
“You carrying?” The man in the front passenger seat asked just as he finished his frisk.
“No, I don’t have a weapon,” Cristiãn answered with exasperation. “Let’s go,” he insisted while returning to a face forward seated position.
The man scowled, then tossed a black cloth bag back to Cristiãn.
“Put this over your head.”
Cristiãn hesitated long enough to return the look of enmity, and then he pulled the bag over his head. Seconds later, the car pulled off. The ride lasted just under five minutes. When it came to its final stop, Cristiãn heard an overhead door roll down behind him. Once the rolling door slammed shut, the car’s front doors opened. Cristiãn felt the car rock as the two men climbed out. The driver’s door immediately slammed shut after the rocking stopped.
“Keep that over your head and don’t move,” the man from the front passenger seat called back to Cristiãn.
The front passenger door slammed shut after that directive. Cristiãn heard their movements and maybe that of two others. The sound of their movements echoed in the space around the car. It did not sound like a very large space. A few seconds later, Cristiãn heard a door open and the sound of another person walk across the enclosure. He heard the new man come to a stop near the car and speak to the two men from the car. Nearly a minute later, the rear door on Cristiãn’s side opened.
“Get out,” the man from the front passenger seat ordered.
Cristiãn climbed out of the car while still wearing the black hood. Despite the head-covering, the fumes of gasoline and oil filled his nostrils. The movement of people and the intermittent whirring sound of an air impact wrench reverberated off the walls. He guessed that he was in an automotive repair shop. Cristiãn could hear the two men from the car standing several feet to either side of him and the third man was heard shuffling about in front of him a few feet off. Cristiãn knew by the sound of his voice that he was not Razvan.
“Bring him,” the third man instructed.
Almost immediately, Cristiãn felt the two men from the car grab him by his arms and nudge him forward. He could hear that they were following the third man. A few seconds later, he heard a door open and he inhaled fresh air. His guards ushered him through the door behind the third man. On the other side of the door, he sensed that he was in a cramped area. His guards walked slightly behind him as they maintain a hold on his arms. They walked about ten more yards before he was ushered through another door. Cristiãn could feel that he had just entered another small structure; these walls seemed to absorb sound.
“We’re going down some stairs,” the third man advised.
Cristiãn took some comfort from his warning. It gave him hope that there was no immediate plan to do him harm, but he had no doubts about Razvan’s plans.
They descended a narrow and musty staircase that came to a landing halfway down then continued in the opposite direction. Just as they reached the bottom, Cristiãn heard the third man grunt as he tugged to open a creaking door. The walls on this level felt hard and cold—clearly concrete. He believed he had been led into a basement. After stepping through the doorway, Cristiãn heard the door slam shut followed by the sound of a deadbolt lock sliding into place.
Cristiãn caught the sound of one or more individuals in the room after the door was closed behind him. He clearly heard someone moving a dozen or more feet off to his left. He could not tell if it was one or more persons. Near that same area, he heard the whir of a small machine and detected the acrid smell of chemicals thick in the air. There was also the barely noticeable sound of feet shuffling ahead of him on his right a couple of times.
“Here he is,” the third man announced from several feet in front of Cristiãn.
Cristiãn heard his two guards step out wide and two steps ahead of him. He heard the footsteps of another person coming toward him a little off his right. This person stopped directly in front of him then pulled the hood off his head.
“I apologize for the precautions,” Razvan said as soon as he removed Cristiãn’s hood.
Razvan gestured toward his armed associates. The driver had a double-barreled, sawed-off shotgun pointed up at the ceiling and resting against his shoulder. The man from the front passenger seat was armed with a semi-automatic pistol directed down toward the floor. A large rectangular section of the room’s center was enclosed behind clear plastic industrial curtains. Within the enclosure were two tables pushed together end-to-end about five yards ahead and to the left of Cristiãn. The tables were long enough to accommodate ten chairs, if chairs had been provided. Two men wearing chemical aprons, rubber gloves and eye protection were seated on stools working opposite each other at the far end of the table away from the door. The table held a large assortment of laboratory equipment complete with a burner and an open flame. The other end of the table nearest to the door had a slightly similar grouping of equipment. It appeared to Cristiãn as though they were standing in the middle of a chemistry experiment—boxes and barrels stacked along the perimeter of the room, and no windows. The only illumination came from a string of four overhead lamps.
“Where is she, Razvan?” Cristiãn demanded without regard for his apology.
The third man was surprised to hear Cristiãn use his vampire name and turned to Razvan with a surprised expression.
“He’s one of you?” the third man questioned.
Razvan smiled at the third man.
“Yes Tony, he is.”
Razvan held Tony’s gaze as he gestured to Cristiãn with his hand.
“Tony McGuire, I would like you to meet Cristiãn Domitius Norbanus.”
Tony McGuire was a middle-aged man wearing a gray suit. He was slightly above average in height and looked like a powerful man even though his athletic physique was long gone. He stared at Cristiãn with wide-eyed surprise.
“I didn’t come here to socialize, Razvan. Where is Cassidy?” Cristiãn bellowed while ignoring Tony McGuire’s examination.
“Don’t worry, Cristiãn,” Razvan responded nonchalantly. “She’s fine.”
Razvan turned his attention to the guard with Cristiãn’s cellphone extended out to him.
“His cellphone,” Tony reported. “He didn’t have any weapons.”
“He is the weapon,” Razvan warned as he took the cellphone. “Don’t let his pretty boy looks throw you off your guard.”
In response to that warning, the man from the driver’s seat brought his shotgun off his shoulder and directed the twin barrels at Cristiãn. The other man aimed his handgun at Cristiãn as well. Razvan gave Cristiãn’s cellphone a quick look then handed it back to him.
“Come on,” Razvan said to Cristiãn with a gesture toward the door at the right end of the basement.
Cristiãn followed Razvan through the doorway and into a narrow room that extended across the width of the basement. The room was set up like a small office. It was illuminated by a single light bulb in a ceiling fixture at the center of the room. Cassidy was seated in a chair along the wall furthest from the door. Dumitra stood guard next to her. Cristiãn’s full attention snapped onto Cassidy as he entered the room. She returned his gaze while quickly rising from her chair. A few seconds later, they were facing each other about a half dozen feet apart.
“Are you okay?” Cristiãn asked with a worried stare.
Cassidy was hesitant to respond. She did not know how she should feel or act about his being there. She stared at him for several seconds with a frightened expression. The two gunmen took up positions on opposite sides of the room close to the door with their weapons ready.
“Yeah,” Cassidy whispered with a slight nod.
“See, I told you,” Razvan chimed in with a smile. “Not a hair out of place.”
Cristiãn turned his attention sharply on Razvan and glowered.
“What do you want, Razvan?”
“We want you,” Dumitra responded on Razvan’s behalf.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cristiãn asked with a frown.
“The majority rule bit is over,” Razvan explained pleasantly. “We’re on our own now.”
“What are you saying, Razvan?” Cristiãn demanded impatiently. “Spit it out.”
Razvan smile mischievously then attempted to speak earnestly.
“I want you to join us.”
“Join you?” Cristiãn returned incredulously.
“The others will follow if you side with us,” Razvan explained with insistence. “How could this be wrong if Cristiãn is in on it?”
“This won’t end well,” Cristiãn argued. “You know that. These mortals will come after us with more than just dogs and wooden stakes.”
“You don’t get it,” Razvan returned with defiance. “This is a different world, Cristiãn. Twelve-hundred years ago, we were living off droppings from peasants. In this time, we can be the kings.”
“Join us, Cristiãn,” Dumitra pleaded.
“You’re going to make more of us,” Cristiãn realized with astonishment.
“And why shouldn’t we?” Razvan asked with a palm up gesture. “We have what all mortals want, and they will give us all that they have to get it.”
“You’re both mad,” Cristiãn declared with a stern look. “You’ll create chaos on an unimaginable scale.”
“We’re vampires, Cristiãn,” Razvan declared. “We thrive on chaos.”
Cristiãn was surprised to hear Razvan identify himself as a vampire in front of the mortals. He quickly studied the faces of the two gunmen to see if they were shocked by his admission. Both took the statement without surprise or change of expression. He could tell from their smell that they were mortal, but their awareness of Razvan and Dumitra’s true identity made him consider the possibility that other associates of theirs may have already been turned.
“Have you turned any mortals?” Cristiãn demanded of Razvan.
“Not yet,” Razvan answered. “But now that we are unfettered by a covenant, we have nothing to stop us.”
Cristiãn shook his head and pondered the idea for a moment.
“I won’t be a part of this.”
“Not even for her?” Dumitra asked, nodding toward Cassidy.
Cristiãn quickly turned a fierce look on Dumitra before challenging her statement.
“What does that mean?”
“Lucian was going to kill her,” Razvan began to explain. “You know that.”
“I would have convinced him to leave her to me,” Cristiãn sharply countered.
“That might have worked yesterday,” Razvan disputed. “But that option disappeared when she showed up at the inquisition.”
“Cristiãn, you know what will happen if we release her to you,” Dumitra insisted.
“And how will joining you change that?” Cristiãn challenged.
“Turn her,” Dumitra explained in two words.
Cristiãn and Cassidy looked at each other in wide-eyed horror.
“The others would never have given you the okay to do that,” Dumitra explained hopefully. “But we’re giving it to you now.”
Cristiãn was dumbfounded by the very idea and could think of no response for several seconds.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“And I can’t let her go,” Razvan insisted.
“We lose all control if I turn her,” Cristiãn argued the obvious. “How can that work to your advantage?”
“Cristiãn, one way or another, she’s staying here,” Razvan declared and pointed to a large chest freezer stationed along the wall opposite from the door.
Razvan’s meaning quickly became clear. From the beginning, Cristiãn had assumed the freezer was there for the basement’s chemistry lab. Now he understood that their plan was to lock Cassidy inside after turning her. As a newborn vampire, the chest would be an ideal tomb for her. The process of dying and resurrecting would leave her too weak to escape it. Her weakened condition would stay in effect until she fed for the first time. And with no way of acquiring her first meal, her body would have no recourse but to go dormant and sleep away the time.
“That’s not happening,” Cristiãn declared, looking astonished.
“Be reasonable, Cristiãn,” Dumitra implored. “We can’t let her go. In fifty years, it won’t matter what she knows.”
“Fifty years?” Cassidy blurted out with a look of fear and astonishment.
“What’s going to change in fifty years?” Cristiãn asked.
“We’re going to own this world,” Razvan answered with a trace of elation.
“Join us, Cristiãn,” Dumitra beseeched with excitement.
“Own this world?” Cristiãn repeated incredulously. “With these guys? They’re just local hoods.”
“This is the perfect business for a vampire,” Razvan declared with a smile. “Name me another business that can quadruple your investment overnight. And it’s all under the table—no government forms, no identification checks. Anonymity is built in—no documentation. It’s perfect. It’s an underworld; the realm of a vampire.”
Razvan turned and began walking toward the door.
“Come, let me show you.”
Tony opened the door for Razvan. Razvan stopped just inside the doorway and turned to see Cristiãn’s reluctance to leave Cassidy behind.
“Detective Tremaine, will you join us?”
Cassidy hesitated and then set off for the door with Dumitra a step behind. They both passed by Cristiãn and followed Razvan and Tony through the doorway. Cristiãn followed them with his armed guards bringing up the rear.
“I don’t like this,” Tony stated as he walked beside Razvan. “It’s bad enough that we have a cop in here. Now we have this guy. Are we running a tourist attraction?”
“Cristiãn is an old, old friend, and he can help us.”
“We don’t need your friends,” Tony argued. “Just do what you promised, and I’ll get you all the friends you need.”
“Relax, Tony,” Razvan encouraged. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Razvan and Tony led their small group through the entryway to the plastic enclosure at the center of the basement and then over to the table with the chemistry project at its center. The two men wearing chemical aprons stopped working as the group entered.
“You’re synthesizing MDMA,” Cassidy said to no one in particular.
“Yes, Detective,” Razvan responded pleasantly. “We were forced to move the lab here after your misadventure inside Lantz’s warehouse.”
“MDMA?” Cristiãn questioned.
“Ecstasy or E,” Cassidy explained as she scanned the contents of the room. “It’s a popular street drug.”
“What are you doing, Razvan?” Cristiãn asked.
A smile spread across Razvan’s face as he turned to Cristiãn.
“We’re participating in a criminal enterprise. Right now, our participation is limited to assisting in mergers, acquisitions, and with the collection of intel on competitors and the local constabulary. The money that we acquire through real estate investments and stock dividends is a pittance compared to what we can make in illegal commerce. But the real money, the real power is in what only we can sell. We have the ultimate commodity, Cristiãn, and the mortals will pay any price to get it. We’re going to be the largest organized criminal enterprise on the planet. And that’s just the beginning. We’re going to extend our tentacles into all levels of law enforcement, local and national politics, and Wall Street. There’s no limit to how high we can go. We’ll own it all.”
“You’re both insane,” Cristiãn proclaimed into the silence that followed Razvan’s presentation. “You will lose control.”
“No, we won’t,” Razvan returned forcefully. “That is what makes this time so great. Wealth is power. It doesn’t matter who your father was, or where you were born. The only thing that matters is how much money you have.”
Cristiãn fixed Razvan with a perplexed stare as he pondered the enormity of his plan.
“You’re feeding a baby dragon. And when it gets big enough to understand that it doesn’t need you anymore, it will devour you.”
“Not if you help us,” Razvan slyly countered.
Razvan paused to examine the effect of his words on Cristiãn.
“Join us, Cristiãn,” he pleaded.
Cristiãn studied Razvan sternly for several seconds. He then turned his attention on the tables and the activity of the two men working there. He watched their movements carefully then started toward the table. Razvan stepped in front him before he could complete a second step.
“I don’t think so,” Razvan insisted with a slight shake of his head. “You can look from there.”
Cristiãn was a couple of feet away from the end of the table nearest to the entrance. He understood that Razvan did not want him near the workings on the farthest end of the table with flammable liquids and burner with open flame. Cristiãn settled back and continued to watch.
“And what will you do if I don’t join you?” Cristiãn both questioned and challenged.
Razvan studied Cristiãn for a prolonged moment.
“I will do what I must.”
Cristiãn knew that Razvan was offering him an either/or proposition: turn her or watch her die. Razvan was gambling that he would turn her to save her life. And with Cassidy hidden away from him, he would have no choice but to guard their existence. He also knew that Razvan and Dumitra were counting on their presence to stop him from trying to take Cassidy by force. The two-armed guards were a problem, but they were not insurmountable problems. When it came to taking Cassidy by force, Razvan and Dumitra were his biggest obstacles. Dumitra suddenly broke into Cristiãn’s train of thought.
“Turn her, Cristiãn,” she pleaded.
Cristiãn looked at Dumitra, then he turned his gaze on Cassidy. She returned his gaze. Her expression morphed into terror. After a long moment, Cristiãn began to move toward her. When he came within two feet of her, she inched back into Dumitra who held her in place with a hand in her back as Cristiãn took her by the wrist. The two gunmen stood across the table on Cristiãn’s right by about a dozen feet—their guns ready; their focus fixed on what they expected to see. Razvan stood behind Cristiãn by four feet or so and a little off to his right. Dumitra was standing a few inches behind and slightly to the left of Cassidy. Tony stood about a half a dozen feet back from Razvan and was taking it all in. Everyone within the plastic enclosure, except the lab workers, were collected around the end of the table nearest to the entrance of the improvised cleanroom. Cristiãn stood with his back to the entrance with Cassidy still in his grip.
“No,” Cassidy pleaded while trying to pull free from Cristiãn’s grasp.
Cristiãn ignored her plea and pulled her forward with authority. The forcefulness in the act convinced Dumitra that he had Cassidy well in hand, and she moved off to Razvan’s side. All eyes were on Cristiãn and Cassidy, even the two lab workers stopped their work to watch.
“Don’t do this,” Cassidy pleaded as she continued to pull against Cristiãn’s grasp.
“They will kill you if I don’t,” Cristiãn answered as he pulled her in close to him.
Cassidy continued to try to pull away from his grip but could not. Cristiãn pulled her up tight against him as he stared into her eyes. Cassidy audibly gasped and tried to push away using all her might. Cristiãn quickly restrained her squirming by folding her arms behind her back. He immediately put his left hand to the task of holding both her arms in place and then slipped his right hand between them. As surreptitiously as he could, Cristiãn retrieved the small plastic bag of food seasoning from the cellphone pocket of his suit. He kept it down and between them and no one noticed.
“I will never forgive you for this,” Cassidy huffed out in defiance and terror.
Cristiãn and Cassidy gazed into each other’s eyes for several seconds. He then looked over his right shoulder at Razvan and Dumitra, holding their bewildered stares before flinging his right arm out with all the speed he could affect and releasing the food seasoning into their faces. It happened too quickly for them to know what Cristiãn had done. The mustard powder instantly burned their eyes and made them howl in pain as they spun away from the cloud of powder. Their hands immediately went up to their faces as they tried to wipe away the irritant that had effectively blinded them.
In that same instance, Cristiãn pushed Cassidy to the floor. The speed of her fall took her breath away.
“Stay down,” Cristiãn called out as he turned to shield his head and face from the imminent gunfire.
No sooner had Cristiãn spoke those words did the guard with the shotgun discharge both barrels at him. Immediately after that, the second guard discharged two rounds from his pistol. A dozen or more shotgun pellets punched into Cristiãn’s side and back along with both bullets from the pistol. Cristiãn rolled with the hits and stooped down. The guard with the pistol attempted to reacquire a bead on Cristiãn, but his position below the plane of the table took him out of his sight line. While showing no ill effect from his gunshot wounds, Cristiãn scooted beneath the table, lifted it and its contents off the floor and charged the two gunmen.
“Run!” Cristiãn called out to Cassidy as he charged the gunmen with the table.
The man with the pistol fired three shots at Cristiãn. Two impacted the table; the third hit Cristiãn in the left thigh but did not affect his assault. The strength of Cristiãn’s charge and weight of the table forced the two gunmen to the floor. Cassidy quickly scrambled under the plastic drape, ran to the door and began to fumble with the lock after hearing Cristiãn’s order. Cristiãn turned to the second table just as Cassidy reached the door. He grabbed a beaker that was partially filled with a liquid and tossed the contents onto Razvan, Dumitra and Tony, then snatched the lit burner and threw it at Razvan, instantly setting him ablaze. Razvan was still writhing in pain from the mustard powder when the fire started. His spinning and flailing caused him to bump into Dumitra and set her aflame. Their torsos were quickly engulfed in fire. Tony was the least affected by Cristiãn’s assaults and the furthest away. Dumitra bumped into Tony’s left arm and ignited his suit, which he immediately set about extinguishing.
By this time, Cassidy had opened the basement door. Cristiãn pulled up the drape, raced across the basement and followed her into the stairwell two steps behind. One behind the other, they ran up the staircase and out the door at the back of the building. Four cars were parked in a parking area behind the building along with the refuge of unwanted furniture and household equipment. Cassidy ran down along the back wall of the building and came to a stop at a door several yards down. She was just about to grab the knob when Cristiãn stopped her. The sound of an air impact wrench whirring on the other side made him think it was not a door they should open.
“Come on,” Cristiãn instructed as he took Cassidy by the hand and began to lead her toward the ten-foot-high fence at the back of the yard.
Cristiãn came to a stop at a sliding gate that was latched with a chain and padlock. Cassidy immediately turned her eyes to the task of finding the best location for climbing the mesh fence. She discontinued her search when she realized that Cristiãn was trying to break the chain. After several seconds, he pulled one of the links apart. The effort clearly fatigued him. He leaned against the fence and began to pant away his exhaustion. Cassidy quickly reached in, unraveled the chain and pulled the gate open. She then took Cristiãn by the arm and rushed him down the side street at the back of the auto repair shop.
Cristiãn followed Cassidy’s lead. After a few seconds, their scurry turned into a fast walk. A little more than thirty seconds later, they reached a large street crossing. Cassidy turned left onto it with Cristiãn in hand, where their escape transitioned into a slow walk. Their change of pace was Cristiãn’s doing. He suddenly looked like a man exhausted from dehydration.
“You okay?” Cassidy asked with deep concern.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Cristiãn reported with a huff.
Cassidy saw the holes in his suitcoat from the shotgun pellets and bullet. She could see his blood soaking into the material around the holes. She marveled that he was moving at all with so many wounds.
“I need to get you to a hospital,” Cassidy said as she looked about to get her bearings.
“No!” Cristiãn insisted as he quickly reached out and grabbed Cassidy’s arm. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”
“You don’t look well,” Cassidy stated with a look of worry.
Cassidy was seeing more than an injured man. Cristiãn looked much older than he did several minutes ago. Streaks of gray lightened the color of his hair; age lines and wrinkles were visibly etched into his face.
“My body will heal on its own,” Cristiãn explained breathlessly. “I just need to get out of the sun and rest for a while.”
Cassidy took a moment to think.
“Okay, but I have to call this in.”
“No—don’t do that” Cristiãn countered with a pleading expression. “I need to tell you something first.”
Cassidy paused to consider Cristiãn’s request.
“It’s important,” Cristiãn asserted into the silence.
Everything in Cassidy said that she should call Lieutenant Graham and report all that had happened. But a concern for Cristiãn was fighting her sense of obligation as a police officer.
“Okay, I’ll get you home,” Cassidy reluctantly agreed.
“No,” Cristiãn sharply countered. “They’ll be looking for me there. I need to get out of the sun.”
Cassidy considered his response several seconds, then moved over to Cristiãn’s side.
“Okay, let’s go,” Cassidy instructed as she took Cristiãn by the arm.
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.