chrome-gray bars slid out of the jam across the face of the door into the wall on the opposite side. Almost immediately the Fomorian began hammering at the door, which quivered and buckled.
Vlad returned to her side, machine pistols in both hands, as the door continued to deform. Hearing a commotion behind her, she turned and saw Lt. Maudine at the head of a dozen troops, accompanied by Holt.
"Set up a cordon here," the lieutenant said. "Don't let it get into the solar." He then went up to her with Holt beside him.
"Get her to the shelter," he told the Vampire.
"No," Holt said. Maudine threw him a sharp look.
"Your pardon, Sir, but that door is made of high-strength steel with titanium plates and a depleted uranium core, and those bars are pure tungsten carbide. If this creature can get through that, the shelter will be a deathtrap. We need to find someplace open, so we can see it coming, but sufficiently closed to contain it, while large enough to maneuver."
Maudine rubbed his upper lip. He always reminded her of Peter O'Toole. "The north portico. I've called in the rest of the troops from the compound; they should be here in fifteen minutes. Mr. Holt, take charge. Use as many men as you feel you need, then send the rest to support us."
"Yes, Sir."
A thunderous crash climaxed the cacophony of battering. The crumpled door flew across the hall and bounced off the opposite wall before falling onto the floor. The bars had been torn loose, and their broken ends looked like splintered wood. The Fomorian stood in the doorway, screaming, as it struggled to pull its body through the opening.
"Get her out of here!" Maudine said as he pulled his pistol and started shooting. Vlad added his own not inconsiderable firepower.
Holt draped his assault rifle over his shoulder and bent down to pick her up. "Pardon, Mum." He lifted her out of the chair, settled her into his arms, and turned to face the troops.
"Make a hole!" The ranks parted in the middle.
"Hang on." She wrapped her arms around his neck as he ran between them. Over his shoulder she saw the troops reform their ranks as Maudine and Vlad retreated.
"Shoot!" she heard the lieutenant say. The troops opened up as the Fomorian extracted itself into the hall and charged them.
The tableau vanished from her sight as Holt hurried through the solar. She caught a glimpse of troops setting up two heavy machine guns before he dashed down the rear stair hall. He ran up the passage into the west wing towards the north helical stairwell and flew down the steps to the ground floor. All the while the sound of gunfire faded, but didn't disappear.
He turned left and charged through a door in the passage onto the dais in the Great Hall. In the short time she had been gone, the food had been cleared away, the tables brought in from outside and moved against the south wall, and the staff removed except for Aelfraed.
He approached them and followed as Holt went out into the portico.
"The house is very nearly evacuated." He had to raise his voice to be heard over the clattering if gunfire. "The only persons left are Chef Trumbo and a few of the cooks securing the kitchen, and Dr. LeClerc and some of the orderlies doing the same with the infirmary."
Holt nodded. "Understood. Make sure they get out, and go with them."
Aelfraed was about to say something, when the whole house shook along with the sound of an explosion above them. In the silence that followed, Differel realized the shooting had stopped.
Vlad appeared out of a burst of shadow with her wheelchair. "You forgot this."
Holt placed her in the seat. "No, I knew you'd show up eventually. What happened?"
"The Fomorian was threatening to overrun the cordon. Lt. Maudine rigged a couple of concussion grenades with a few stun grenades and a smoke grenade, attacked it single-handed, and detonated his ordinance to give the troops a chance to retreat into the solar." As if to prove him right, the gunfire started up again, including the unmistakable sound of the machine guns.
Differel felt appalled. "You mean, he killed himself?!"
Vlad gave her a level stare. "He understood his role and purpose, My Master."
That sobered her, coming face to face with her responsibility for the first time.
"Such a man should have a hundred thousand enemies impaled in his honor."
The thought sickened her, and yet it felt strangely appropriate.
A group of soldiers came up the steps from the patio onto the terrace towards the portico. Holt went to meet them and she followed. There looked to be two dozen of them, but they appeared nervous, glancing around at the sound of the shooting.
"Gentlemen; good, you've arrived. We are defending Dame Differel here. I need half of you--"
"Just a moment, Lance Corporal," the platoon sergeant said. "The Lieutenant called us in, to combat an intruder. Where is it?"
"Mr. Maudine is dead; he placed me in charge."
The sergeant gave him a skeptical look. "Even if that were true--"
"It is true, Sergeant." Differel wheeled closer. "I heard him myself. Do as he says."
He flashed an irritated look. "With all due respect, Miss--"
She felt her temper flare. "That's Director, Sergeant. Now, I'm going to give you a direct order: you will do exactly what Mr. Holt tells you, or I will relieve you. Am I clear?"
He glanced behind her at Vlad and licked his lips. "Yes, Director."
"Very good. Mr. Holt?"
"Station half your men here, then take the rest to reinforce the solar."
The sergeant quickly scanned his men. "Forrester, you and your men fall out here."
"Yes, Sergeant."
"One section isn't enough!" Holt said.
"Let me make one thing clear, Mr. Holt. These are my men, and until I am relieved I will deploy them as I see fit."
For a moment she considered putting him under arrest for insubordination, but realized she couldn't have dissension at a time like that. "Very well, Sergeant, we'll make do. Carry on."
He saluted and led his mean into the hall.
"Gentlemen," Holt addressed the remainder, "the intruder could approach from outside or in. Deploy yourselves accordingly.
The men split into two groups of four, one facing the garden, the other the house, as they spread out. She watched them fidget with each burst of gunfire above them.
A radio Aelfraed carried bleeped. He switched it on and raised it to his face. "Yes?"
"Everyone's out," Mrs. Widget's voice said. "We've assembled in the park and are proceeding to the military road gate. Over."
"Understood. Out."
"Go ahead and join them," Holt said. "The Vampire and I have everything under control here."
"If you don't mind, I would prefer to stay. You're short handed as it is."
Holt stared at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, but then nodded. "As you wish. We could use the help. Are you armed?"
Her butler reached under his jacket and withdrew a Sykes-Fairbairn fighting dagger. "I have a dozen of these; not as many as I would prefer, but I was caught off guard."
Holt pulled his L106 pistol out of its holster. "Here." He handed it to Aelfraed, along with three magazines. The butler took them without a word and placed them in his jacket pockets.
"Master."
Differel looked at Vlad and saw he held a Beretta 93R with a 120-round drum magazine. She took it, and its weight brought home to her the life and death seriousness of the situation.
Another radio bleeped; this time Holt answered it. "Holt speaking; over."
The sound of the gunfire echoed through the radio more loud and shrill. "We can't stop it! We've had to retreat twice! One machine gun out of action!"
"Reinforcements are on the way--"
"They're already here, but they're useless! We can't hold--AAAAAEEEEE!!" Then the radio went dead along with the gunfire.
"Solar! Solar, come in! Do you read me? Over!"
"It is no use," Vlad said. "Those who were not slaughtered have retreated. They are regrouping
on the next floor down, but cannot hold for long."
"My Holy God," she breathed. She couldn't believe it. So many people dead in so short a time; she couldn't comprehend it. And all in her name; she couldn't accept it.
It's not fair!
Firing started anew, but it was sporadic, and kept changing location.
"We must get Dame Differel away," Aelfraed said.
"Ordinarily I'd agree," Holt replied, "but it would just follow, and God only knows the damage it could do searching for her."
"But we don't have the firepower to combat it."
Holt looked uncertain, and he placed his hand over his mouth in thought. Then he brightened and grinned.
"Of course!" He turned towards her. "I have an idea, Mum, but it would mean putting you at risk. If you want to leave, I'd recommend you and Aelfraed evacuating to RAF Marham. From there you can be transferred to Bethmoira Castle for safekeeping. However, if you're willing, I'd like you to stay here, and act as bait."
Aelfraed looked aghast, the first time she had ever seen his mask of reserve slip. "Are you out of your mind?"
But Vlad grinned, as if getting a joke only he and Holt understood.
She felt an urge to run, to escape, to crawl and hide in a hole fifty deep, but people were dead because of her. She couldn't flee like a coward after that. "What do you have in mind?"
"There's no time to explain. There is a danger, but if it works, we can destroy that monster here and now."
Her heart pounded against her sternum like it wanted to escape. I don't blame it. "What is your assessment, Mr. Holt? Does it have a chance?"
There was no uncertainty in his expression or voice. "Yes, Director; a good chance."
Every fiber of her being screamed against it, but she said, "Do it."
He nodded. "Cpl. Forrester." One of the troops turned around, and he handed him his rifle. "You're in charge, but if you're smart, you'll do whatever the Vampire tells you."
The soldier glanced at Vlad, but said, "Yes, Mr. Holt."
Holt turned towards the house.
"Master-at-Arms," Vlad said. He hesitated and looked at him. "My name is Vlad Tepes Drakulya."
He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Of course. My apologies, Vlad." He then jogged into the house.
Aelfraed glanced at her.
"Go ahead, Manservant," Vlad said as he pulled his machine pistols out from under his coat, "your mistress is safe with me."
She nodded, and he returned it with a slight smile. He then stared Vlad in the eye as he straightened his back. "My name is Aelfraed Dalton Walters."
Vlad grinned and bowed. "Of course. My apologies, Aelfraed."
Back to TOC
+++
Soldier
Aelfraed hurried after Holt and caught up with him as the young soldier entered the Security Block in the Basement. "And just what do you have in mind?"
He proceeded to the Armoury. "You gave me the idea: firepower." He went through the unlock process.
He pulled the vault door open and stepped inside, and Aelfraed followed him in. "I don't understand."
Holt gave the weapons a cursory examination. "The Fomorian's armor is too tough for our NATO 5.56 and 7.62 ammunition. It's a safe bet Vlad's .303's won't penetrate either, and I'm not so sure about his .44 Magnum backup pistols, even at pointblank range. We need something more substantial." He selected a Barrett M82 anti-material rifle.
"Are you sure you can handle that?" At thirty pounds and nearly five feet long, it was normally used with a bipod to steady it. Its targets included lightly armoured or unarmoured vehicles, crew-served weapons, and fuel and ammunition dumps rather than people. Sir Henry had ordered three when they first came out, and they had given good service against monsters too tough for conventional firearms.
Holt placed it on a table in the middle of the room and proceeded to remove his jacket and tie. "In this case, the weight is an advantage; it will reduce the recoil. Besides, I don't have to shoot very far with it." He unbuttoned his shirt collar as he stepped up to an ammunition locker, and removed a single magazine.
"Raufoss rounds?" The Mark 211 bullet was a .50 caliber shell filled with an incendiary charge,