(Note. As always, since this story is drawn from "Bridget's Nights" it takes place while she still was undead. For my changes to the vampire mythos as they apply to her, see Chapter One of the original story above. Once again, Bridget feels herself to be human, regardless of the fact her heart doesn't beat. In fact, she always has told me she gets more flack about being in the CIA than she does because she's a vampire. The movie reference in the alley behind the bar is, of course, to "Underworld". Bridget has always enjoyed movies, TV Shows and books about vampires. She claims that it's because they always get things so wrong. Personally I think she just likes seeing guys in long leather coats and women in skin-tight vinyl and leather.)
(1997 - New York City)
Two heavy set men moved along the deck of the barge floating serenely in the East River. A third man kept a lookout from the lumber pile near the rickety gangway that precariously linked the old barge to the dock.
"Hurry it will ya'? I mean, damn, it's not like she's that big."
"Yeah, but she sure is a squirmer."
The first man snickered. "I hear she squirms a lot with the right person. Too bad we won't get a chance to find out."
"Knock it off you guys," hissed the lookout. "Just pick the damn broad up and carry her to the edge if that's what it takes. Even with her new overshoes you can do it."
There was a grunt. "Gimme a hand." The two men lifted a slight struggling figure and moved slowly to the barge's side.
"What the hell's with all the chain wrapped around her? This is just a woman and a little one to boot.""
"You weren't there when we caught her. She threw Big Stan across the room and damn near shoved Tiny's head through the wall. It took six of us to hold her and the chain seemed like a damn good idea. Good thing all Feds ain't this strong."
"Oh well, won't matter in a moment." The two men set their burden down. The figure teetered alarmingly on the edge of the splintered wood deck. The first man pulled a strip of heavy tape from the woman's mouth.
"Any last words doll?" He grinned.
"Sure. What time is it?"
Caught off guard by the unexpected request, the first man looked at his watch.
"Its 3 AM."
Okay. So why don't you kiss my ass then you ugly over-grown..." the rest of the words were cut off when the man pushed the woman backwards. Bottom heavy because of the tub of cement her feet were encased in, she rocked back and forth twice before toppling into the murky water.
The two men had stepped back to avoid the expected splash as the woman hit the water. They both leaned over the edge and waited. In short order an explosion of air bubbles came and then the water grew placid again.
"Damn, they usually hold their breath longer than that." observed the second man.
"Probably was still cussing me." replied the first one.
"If you two are done, let's get out of here." commanded the watcher. The three dark shapes walked down the gangway and disappeared into the night. A short time later a car engine started and then faded away into the distance.
*******************************
"Well, this is another fine mess you got me into, Robert!" were my thoughts as I hit the water and sank to the bottom of the river. I KNEW I should have stuck to the spy business. But when the Deputy Director of Operations for the Agency and one of the most senior Deputy Directors of the Bureau are both asking for help, well, just the sight of the two of them in agreement over anything was nearly enough to persuade me without hearing anything about the case. I mean, do you have any idea how long its been since the upper leadership of those two organizations agreed on the time of day, much less the need for inter-service cooperation?
But it was Robert who convinced me. Special Agent Robert A. (for Alan) Dale, whom I have known since the early 19th Century. The man just exudes the concept of Duty with a capital "D". A few words from him and I signed on. He always could convince me to do pretty much anything. Not THAT kind of anything. Well, come to think of it, yeah, that kind of thing too. But he had been the first to show me that a vampire could be legitimate, an actual respected member of a government organization. It was working for him during the Napoleonic War that had led me to the Union Secret Service and eventually to the CIA.
I had been tracking a large shipment of arms headed towards the United States. This wasn't your everyday run-of-the-mill AK's and MAC-10's. This was serious stuff. I'm talking C-4 in large quantities, RPG's, AT-4's, Claymores. Stuff you use to fight a war.
I had picked up the first hint of this in Berlin and the trail led me, to my surprise and pleasure, to Budapest. I caught the first night flight into the city and started following my leads down the back streets. Partly I was nosing about, but partly I was simply happy to be there for the first time in a couple of generations. The city was so different from what I remembered it being during the Turkish occupation and yet in some ways it was exactly the same. It was still vibrant, exciting, a place where East mingled with the West, North with South. Its personality had survived wars, revolutions, conquering hordes and massive bombing raids. I loved it here.