"It looks as if the German's information has paid off at last," McKay said as he looked up from his laptop.
"What have you found?" Nera asked. She stepped behind him, cradling his head against her breasts.
"He booked a flight," McKay answered. "I don't know from where, but using the alias names Shultz gave us, I found an arrival flight. At Heathrow. In about an hour."
Nera's eyes lit, and she smiled with a glimmer of fangs. "Assemble our faithful and collect him," she ordered.
"With pleasure," McKay responded as he opened his cell phone to make the call.
- - -
John Stone's plane landed at Heathrow. He waded through the customs waiting line and made his way outside. He spotted a taxi, and shouldering his duffle bag, walked over to it.
A horde of young men, boys really, crowded around him. There were shouts of "Uncle John! Uncle John". One of them reached to embrace him, smiling. He stepped back, but found he had been cut-off by one of them from behind. He felt the sharp prick of a needle in his neck. The world around him began to blur.
They held him up, still shouting and acting as if they were greeting him. He was placed into a car that sped away from the airport.
- - -
Stone sat quietly in the living room of the safe house. Explosives had been planted in strategic areas of the house and its surrounding grounds. The team assigned by Keller was set up in positions around and on the house. Sharpshooters waited quietly on the roof and at the end of the driveway.
Sundown was coming rapidly. The light that filtered in through the windows was growing dark. Stone knew Nera would be arriving soon. Tonight, this would end. One way or another, the past days of running and hiding, of fearing for the lives of his wife and unborn child, as well as his own, would be over. He would see to it. He would fight like a samurai: as if he was going to die. And that may well come to pass. But not before they did.
Stone wore his Kevlar reinforced bodysuit, with the cloak. He carried his master's katana tucked inside his belt at his left side. There was a small, unobtrusive radio speaker/mic in his left ear. He heard a crackling of static, then Keller's voice.
"Six, Ghost," Keller said.
"Six," Stone replied.
"Vehicle lights in the driveway. Looks like two cars, coming up to the house."
"Roger," Stone replied. He took a deep breath. "Weapons free," he added.
"Copy weapons free," Keller said.
Stone waited.
They would wait until Nera was at the door before they opened fire. They had no plans to kill her, as she was Stone's prey. But whatever vampiric entourage traveled with her would meet with certain doom.
Stone slowed his breathing. He centered himself. Mushin. Mind of no mind.
"Six, Ghost," Keller said over the radio, "vehicles have stopped. Nera and another vampire, red haired, are exiting, along with several others, some human, from the second car. Wait.. they've got a hostage with them. Male. Caucasian. Michael, it's your father."
Stone did not reply. His jaw clenched.
"Six, copy?"
"Copy," Stone replied. "Weapons hold."
"I copy weapons hold," Keller acknowledged.
Stone stood from his chair. He watched the door. It would open. He waited.
When the door opened, a human stepped inside with a small submachine gun, an Uzi pistol, trained at Stone. He held the door open while Nera entered. Following her was Robert McKay, who held his father by the neck. Two more humans came inside. He saw others, he couldn't tell human from vampire, post up by the doorway on the exterior.
John Stone looked like hell. He had been beaten. His eyes were blackened, and one of them was partially closed. His lips were swollen and bruised. He walked with a lip, and his hands were bound in front of him by wire.
Michael fought to show no emotion. He looked from his father to McKay, who sneered back at him. He then looked to Nera.
"Good evening, Michael," she said.
Good evening you fucking bitch, he thought. However, it came out as, "Nera".
"This is no final confrontation," she said, looking at his katana in his belt. "This is simply an ultimatum: deliver to me the abomination or I kill your father."
Stone looked at his father. John Stone grimaced back at him, but said nothing. He didn't need to. Michael knew.
"Why do you call my child an abomination?" he asked.
