He had been standing in the officers’ mess when the Director’s message arrived. Around him, Operators had already started to receive orders and briefing schedules, but what had appeared on his console had been an immediate summons to Paul Turner’s quarters, with no detail whatsoever. Excitement had instantly burst through him, as he had allowed himself to consider the possibility that he had tried his hardest not to take for granted: that he would be part of the strike team sent to take down Dracula.

After all, it would make sense; he and Larissa were the most powerful Operators in the Department, and had direct experience of confronting the first vampire. He assumed that Angela Darcy would lead the team, given that she was the Security Officer and had been the first person turned by PROMETHEUS.

What he had not considered was that Frankenstein might be chosen too.

“Lieutenant Carpenter,” said Paul Turner from behind his desk. “Come in.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes and walked slowly into the room, towards where Angela, Larissa and Frankenstein were standing. He nodded, trying to somehow silently convey a greeting to the two women, but not to the monster, and stopped beside the Security Officer.

“We’re waiting for one more of you,” said Turner. “Then we’ll get started.”

Despite his disappointment at the presence of Frankenstein, Jamie felt his excitement return. There could surely be no doubt now: this was going to be the strike team, and he was part of it. His thoughts turned immediately to who the final member might be – the newly turned Jack Williams, perhaps, or Dominique Saint-Jacques, or even Lizzy Ellison from his own squad. All would be good. He would happily fight alongside any one of them.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor outside the room, and he frowned as he turned towards the door; there were two sets of feet thudding rhythmically across the ground.

Paul said we were only waiting for one, he thought. What’s going on?

A familiar scent entered his nostrils. Jamie’s eyes glowed with crimson fire and a growl rolled from his throat as Valentin Rusmanov stepped into the room, a Security Operator at his side.

“Well,” said the ancient vampire, looking round the room with a smile on his face. “Here we all are. How terribly exciting.”

“Come in and shut up, Valentin,” said Turner. “I haven’t got time for jokes this afternoon.”

“Of course, my dear Major Turner,” said Valentin. The ancient vampire walked across the room, stopped next to Jamie, and gave him a broad grin.

He stared at the youngest Rusmanov’s pale, handsome face.

Him? he shouted silently. A mass murderer who helped Larissa leave and took great pleasure in biting our Operators? We’re really going to trust him with something so important?

“This is ridiculous,” rumbled Frankenstein, as though he could read Jamie’s mind. “Are you briefing a mission or a farce?”

“You can shut up too, Victor,” said Turner, fixing the monster with a cold stare. “In fact, that goes for all of you. Until further notice, I am the only person in this room who has permission to speak. Is that clear?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Jamie tore his gaze away from Valentin and focused his attention on the Director.

“All right,” said Turner. “I’m going to credit you all with enough intelligence to know why you’re here, but in case I’m being too kind, let me spell it out. The five of you have been selected for the strike team that we will be sending into Carcassonne tomorrow, while the majority of the Multinational Force engages Dracula’s army. You will have a single objective: to destroy the first vampire himself. If any of you don’t understand the importance of this mission, leave now.”

Nobody moved. Jamie stared at the Director, excitement crawling up his spine; it was out in the open now, in black and white.

They were being sent to kill Dracula.

He was being sent to kill Dracula.

Heat pulsed behind his eyes as his fangs itched for release inside his gums.

Calm, he told himself. Stay calm.

“The five of you were selected by me, in consultation with the other Directors,” said Turner. “I am fully aware that there is negative history between several of you, and I know it’s unlikely that any of you would have selected this specific group of people. But the simple truth is that you are the five most powerful men and women the Department has at its disposal, and three of you are among the most powerful vampires in the world. We are sending you after the most powerful, so nothing else matters. You don’t like each other? Fine. Would prefer not to work with each other? I couldn’t care less. This is bigger than any of you, and all I’m interested in is whether or not you can follow the orders I’m about to give you. If you don’t think you can put your personal shit aside for the sake of the most important mission in the history of this Department, speak up now.”

Jamie glanced at his colleagues. Their faces were set with determination, and nobody said a word.

“Last chance,” said Turner, eyeing each of them in turn. “No? Good. Direct your attention to the screen behind you.”

The newly appointed strike team turned as one. There was a rattle of keys and the wall screen lit up, displaying an overhead photograph of Carcassonne’s medieval city.

“Intelligence regarding the locations and numbers of Dracula’s vampires is extremely limited,” said Turner. “The buildings of Carcassonne are old, with thick walls, and vampires are arriving each night. We may not have a clear picture until tomorrow, when Dracula’s army moves out to meet us.”

“What if he’s with them?” asked Angela Darcy. “This whole operation relies on him staying inside the city. What if that doesn’t happen?”

“In such a scenario, your objective would remain the same,” said Turner. “The difference will be that you’d go after him on the battlefield rather than in the city. The advantages and disadvantages of such a scenario will be covered before we ship out, but we’re going to move forward on the assumption that he’ll stay put. He was a General, and our belief is that he’ll remain removed from the actual fighting unless it becomes absolutely necessary for him to intervene.”

“That is exactly what he will do,” said Valentin. “He will restrain himself unless the battle turns. He will want to fight, but he will not consider it appropriate.”

You should know, thought Jamie. You fought for him often enough.

“Thank you, Valentin,” said Turner. “Our expectation is that he’ll watch from above the city.”

“Out in the open,” said Frankenstein. “What will stop him fleeing if things go our way?”

“Pride,” said Valentin, his voice low, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Arrogance. Call it whatever you want. He will not run.”

“What about the hostages?” asked Angela.

“They are not a mission priority,” said Turner. “Their best chance lies in you completing your objective.”

“Not a mission priority,” repeated Angela. “One hundred and eleven innocent people.”

“I am aware of the numbers, Captain,” said Turner. “I suggest you reread the Intelligence Division’s projection of how many lives will be lost if Dracula asserts his authority over the entire world. It may help soothe your conscience.”

Angela gave the Director a long, cold look. He met her gaze for several tense seconds, until the Security Officer slowly turned to look back at the screen.

“So we don’t know how many vampires the main force are going to face,” said Jamie. “We don’t know whether Dracula will fight with them, and if he doesn’t, we don’t know exactly where he’ll be located. We’re taking a lot on faith here, sir.”

“Yes,” said Turner, simply. “We are. General Allen and I will be in constant contact with the five of you, and I promise that you will know everything we know. We’ll just have to hope it’s enough.”