"Sorry for gathering you in such an unusual place, but the interrogation of Mr. Bayer and the disgusting things he told us have been exhausting. I need to blow some steam," Mike was standing in the middle of the headquarters rooftop, a golf club in his hand, and about a dozen balls were set up in a row next to him.
Uncle took a swing and sent the first ball somewhere far.
"There is good news and, of course, bad news. There is always bad news! Let's start with the good ones. In the course of our conversation, Mr. Kurt Bayer got so carried away that he blurted out everything he ever knew about primes, nighttimers, and vampires in general. We now have names, addresses, everything. So we know our enemy better than ever. And that's all great, but I have no idea how we should act on it. The problem is that our enemy is extremely strong. Even in terms of manpower the Brotherhood of the Dark…" uncle Mike paused for a second and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "By the way, Bayer himself never mentioned this name… But never mind. So basically they are a hundred thousand times as many as we are, they have finances, resources, facilities, and connections in all governmental agencies, from the local police to the Oval Office. How are we supposed to fight this force is beyond me. This is not even David fighting Goliath. This is David against an army of Goliaths armed with assault rifles. As soon as we come up on the Brotherhood's radar, they'll crush us like a flee. That's how miserable our situation is…"
Mike sent another ball flying and turned to Rettle.
"What are your thoughts? You are the only one among us who actually fought in a war. What should tiny Lichtenstein – nay, even the Vatican – do when faced with the force of the Third Reich?"
"The Vatican would have to lay down arms. But we are not the Vatican. We have one important advantage – the absence of permanent territory. The Brotherhood cannot surround us, siege us or wipe us out of existence with carpet bombings. History knows cases when a significantly stronger side ended up losing. Take the Battle of Thermopylae, for example, when a quarter of a million Persians fought against six thousand Greeks."
"It was shown in the movie 300," Luma whispered in my ear. "But it's all twisted out of proportion there. Even on the last day of the battle, there were around five hundred hoplites left to fight against Persians."
Yeah, just like I said earlier, Luma knew just about everything.
Rettle continued.
"They lost because they were betrayed, but in the aftermath of the battle for every killed Greek, Xerxes had to pay with ten of his warriors."
"So what are we going to do? Ask Gerard Butler to lead our squad and lure the primes into a ravine for a fight?" I tried to make a joke.
Rettle, naturally, didn’t appreciate it.
"This is just an example to show that victory is possible even in the most unfavorable circumstances. We need to take another line of action. The most suitable solution would be a single sabotage operation aimed to disrupt the management system of the Brotherhood. And then we'll take out enemy military units which will be hung out to dry without support from the center."
"Cut off the snake's head, like I said!" added Lee passionately.
Mike hit the seventh ball and continued.
"That's what I was thinking. The Brotherhood's head is obviously the Irwing family. Only getting them is impossible. Bayer said that no one, except for a handful of confidants, knows the exact location of the family members. They pass on orders and instructions through trusted men. According to Bayer, there are at least five ‘way stations’ between him and Heinrich Irwing, and our beloved head of Blood Inc. security doesn't even know where his direct overseer lives."
"And what about the Irwing kids? Chloe and Sebastian. They aren’t very keen on keeping their location secret," Stoker joined the conversation.
"I thought about that too. But it’s the exact opposite problem. That twosome is so wild, that hunting them down is just as easy as catching a single fish in the Pacific ocean. Chloe and Sebastian can go to a party in Shanghai in the morning, decide that it sucks, and half an hour later jump on a plane to Moscow or even the Antarctic to watch some penguins. To top it all, they change the means of transportation, communication, and even their appearance just about every second. They act like real secret agents, only not out of security reasons, but because they are bored."
"Why don't we poison them? Bayer said that the primes receive food on ‘special order’," Lee started talking again.
"Yeah, he said that primes feed on living people. Are you suggesting we poison the entire humankind? Theoretically, we can poison the bloodstock at Blood Inc. but we don't know which part of it will go to nighttimers, and which one – to hospitals. This way we might end up killing more humans than vampires. Besides, I've already talked this over with Fleming," Mike nodded at the professor, giving him the floor.
"I'm afraid, currently we don't have a suitable toxic agent. It has to be lethal. Weakening our enemy temporarily isn’t good enough. There are plenty of substances deadly for vampires, silver among others. But the problem is that their lethal dose is rather high, so the primes will easily tell poisoned blood even by its look, not to mention its taste. The perfect solution would be some virus or other infectious agent but, as you all know, vampires don't suffer from human diseases."
Uncle took a swing and sent another ball into the sky with a special kind of fury.
"Hold on. I think I have a solution," I said. "I'm such an idiot! I've seen one weird document among the ones we stole from the Blood Inc. archives, but I didn't know what to make of it until you started talking about food. There was an invoice for an integrated shipment of a great number of industrial equipment. An assembly line, a packer, some sort of corker, a labeler, and so on. I've just realized, that's the equipment for bottling drinks. If the Brotherhood needs to feed a hundred thousand vampires across the country every day, they are not going to putter around with blood bags. They would need normal plastic bottles and a blood-bottling factory! That's what all this equipment is for! It's all in the documents. We can find the place where all that stuff was delivered to and bust the entire feeding station of the Brotherhood."
Uncle's face brightened for a second, and he joyfully exclaimed, "That's awesome news, Sam! I guess you've become the biggest expert on the Brotherhood of the Dark!"
But then Mike frowned, and a deep vertical line appeared between his eyebrows. Uncle took a swing and hit the ball once again, this time carelessly letting the club scratch against the concrete of the roof, almost striking sparks.
"But what are we going to do with this freaking factory? Blow it up? Then what? The Brotherhood members will stay on short rations for several days or even go and kill humans to substitute for donor blood. But most importantly, they’ll retaliate, destroying us faster than the last embers of that shithole go out," Uncle's voice rang with unusual bitterness. "It would be great to poison all their stock. But we have nothing to do it with, god damn it!"
Mike kicked the next ball. He then hurled the golf club to the floor.
"The Red Plague."
Suddenly, Luma's voice broke the silence brought on by my uncle's outbreak. My eyebrows went up, and I looked at my girlfriend in surprise. Everyone else stared at her as well. Mike sat cross-legged right on the concrete floor of the roof, picked up his club, and talked to Luma in a pleading voice.
"Go on. Go on, love, surprise me. You are my last hope. Otherwise, I might eat this freaking club out of despair, and then I'll need a lot of laxative."
Luma stood right next to uncle Mike, facing everyone else.
"I studied the history of the Night Guardians. After the end of the Great War with the nighttimers, the Order ceased to exist. Mainly due to heavy fights, but not only. During the same period of time, quite a big number of the daytime vampires died in an epidemic of a previously unknown disease named the Red Plague. It affected only vampires and spread as rapidly as the Black Death among humans in the middle of the 14th century. Presumably, it was transmitted through the consumption of infected blood, hence the name. One of the theories even claims that the First Guardian and his Apostles didn't die during the battle, but actually fell victim to the Red Plague."
"A beautiful historical note, Luma. But how can that help us?" asked Mike, somewhat irritated.
"We can infect the bloodstock of the Brotherhood with the Red Plague. It cannot be cured and it ends up in death in a matter of days."
"But…"
Luma interrupted uncle Mike with a gesture. I smiled at the way my girlfriend treated the head of the Order.
"There are several known group burials of the Red Plague victims on the US territory. If we exhume the remains, we might find the Red Plague pathogen there."
Mike tried to open his mouth again but one more time Luma stopped him with a strict move of her index finger.
"Bacillus anthracis is a bacterium that causes an extremely dangerous disease known as anthrax. It forms spores that keep their pathogenic properties for decades. And under certain circumstances, these spores can even stay harmful for centuries."
This time my uncle didn't even try to ask a question, he just looked at Luma inquiringly.
"Thanks, I'm done."
Luma made a mock curtsey, pulling the fabric of her jeans to the sides and bowing slightly. This time I didn't even bother to hide my smile. She was absolutely amazing! This girl just gave a scientific lecture, interrupting the head of the Order twice, and finished with this nice joke. Noticing my smile, Luma winked at me.
Mike turned to Fleming.
"Do you agree with the findings of our young Miss Know-it-all?"
"I'd say yes. She's right in saying that it's possible to extract the infectious agent from the remains. I'm also familiar with the research regarding the long-term pathogenic power of Bacillus anthracis."
"So you think our little meanie…," my uncle looked at Luma. "I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about the Red Plague."
Luma answered with a wry smile.
"You think it can be as resistant as that bacillus of yours?"
"If it can infect vampires, I'd assume it's even more resistant than infectious agents that make humans sick."
Mike grew thoughtful.
"Let me clarify something. We can dig up a grave, extract a deadly bacteria and infect primes' entire supply of blood with it. And the nighttimers won't even figure out what killed them?"
Everyone turned to Fleming. The professor nodded yes. Uncle Mike nodded in response, then jumped to his feet, pulled Luma toward him, and kissed her loudly on the forehead.
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