The wind whipped the side of the hill as he walked towards the Abbey. It had been a ruin for several centuries now, but it still dominated the landscape; like the great cracked shell of some enormous sea monster, it seemed to be the last reminder that once there had been some power on the side of this deserted coast.
Jack Delaney was there however not to admire the great ruin but to meet a man he’d rather not. If he was going to go to the seaside from pleasure it would have been somewhere much warmer and if he had to choose any kind of company, it would not be his boss. Especially if it was the kind of seaside weather, he enjoyed the most – sunny, sunbathing weather where one could totally strip loose and see everyone else stripping loose as well…
Banishing the thought from his mind, he headed up the headland and towards the outer reaches of the Abbey where Sir Jacob Jackharn was waiting. The wind was mixing with the waves now and the nearer the sea got, the nearer the feeling of dread mixed with excitement crept up Delaney’s body. He always felt like this before he was about to receiving instructions – it felt appropriate somehow. It meant he was neither ever too apprehensive nor fully at his ease.
Jackharn, or J as he was nicknamed back at HQ, turned to look at Delaney’s windswept and battered face. The pipe that he regularly puffed had clearly proved less than effective at stopping any ill effects of the cold for the collar of his coat, almost always turned down, was pressed against the side of his head. This caused the pipe to look slightly eschew and the smoke billowing from it to resemble the diminishing embers at the heart of a shabby coal train that was about to be discontinued.
“Ah, you’ve finally made it have you?” J’s face betrayed a slight contempt towards Delaney. He reserved this for instances in which one of his agents had inconvenienced in him some way – the most heinous of which was to leave him standing out in the cold when he could be by a nice, roaring fire.
Delaney had seen that look before and looked as sheepish as a schoolboy caught putting a frog into the Head’s desk.
“I must apologies sir, but other matters caught he somewhat unawares. The tidying up of that business in Munich rather made it difficult to get away early…” He stumbled for a moment, his mind momentarily flashing back to that night, the crumpled sheets in Munich…
“Yes well, never mind that now.” J’s brow furrowed even further. Despite Delaney’s abilities his love of life, his living to excess sometimes made him somewhat of a liability. He seemed to spend as much time doing whatever it was, he enjoyed doing as fantasising about it.
Delaney turned to his chief whose pipe’s smoke was spluttering, either with a lack of tobacco or with indignation.
“Sorry sir – so what is exactly the reason for us coming this far north? I mean Whitby is a nice enough place during the summer but I’m not sure –“ Delaney looked out at the wind whipping up against the side of the town directly below them “that it is exactly the time of year to be visiting it is it? Especially if you want to go and eat an ice cream, I should think they’ll all be shut.” Delaney’s grin vanished as he saw further furrowing on J’s face.
“If you would stop interrupting me then I’ll be able to tell you exactly why both of us are here.” J had finally finished puffing on his pipe and emptied the ash on the grass by his feet, stomping on it to try and regain some warmth into his legs.
“Two weeks ago, a Russian ship sank off the coast about four miles out there into the North Sea. What exactly it was doing we aren’t sure, but it appeared to be heading in this direction. We believe it is Russian because of the associated paperwork lodged with the port authority; however its cargo was from all over the place – some from Morrocco, some from Nigeria, a fair bit from China and one package from Romania. A rather large package about the size of a coffin – that’ll become relevant in a moment.”
J paused for a moment, seemingly unsure how the proceed. He noticed the worry on Delaney’s face and continued.
“The coffin shaped box… well the coffin I might as well call it washed up about a mile north of here and was brought to Whitby to be examined.” J’s brow furrowed again and Delaney wondered whether the frenzy of the whipping North Sea air was getting to his boss.
“Would you prefer to continue this somewhere more clement sir?” Delaney was keenly aware that the harsh coldness of the wind, that was whipping across his face, must surely be affecting J in a similar way.
“No, I think it’s best that we get it over and done with here.” His chief’s face was a line of concentration as he stared out into the sea.
“You see we think someone… got out of the coffin. Something survived the ship wreck inside the coffin and subsequently left it.” J had never looked more concerned than he did in that instant, the years of worrying suddenly showing on the otherwise naturally
Delaney stared at him for a moment.
“What exactly are you suggesting sir? That there was something that somehow survive the shipwreck and managed to get out? Something…” the words whipped around him as the waves seemed to inch closer to the shore “something not entirely human?”
“I’m afraid…” J stopped again, turning away from Delaney for a moment before turning back and looking him straight in the eye “I’m afraid I am.”
The public house was one that Delaney had frequented several times. He was aware that all kinds of illicit things were traded here – from booze that had fallen off the back of lorries to drugs to the most dangerous thing of all; information. As Delaney scanned the room he noticed all kinds of horse trading going on – addicts of every kind desperately attempting to get satisfaction, to find for a brief moment a release from the never-ending gnawing feeling of desperation for oblivion. It was something he toyed with as well as he saw legs that were inviting and lips curled into a smile. He thrust those thoughts to the back of his head – he was on the job and had to stay on it.
“Mr Delaney? You was asking for me sir?” He turned around to see a craggy face come into view. The wrinkles, deep and lined like a cracked reef at the bottom of the sea, defined the face more than anything else. The mouth was a moving wrinkled; the nose a distorted submerged one, twitching with anticipation at the reward it was about to receive.
“Ah Denis good to see you.” Delaney knew that if anyone in Whitby knew where some kind of viscous creature in need of a good sorting out was hiding, it would be the oldest and roughest active fisherman there was.
“I presume,” Denis said sucking his wrinkled mouth inwards and revealing the gums that lay behind it, “I presume that this is a matter of business sir and not one of pleasure?”
“You’d be right there Denis. I’m on a job and it’s important you help me. There’s a hell of a lot riding on this, if you don’t mind the expression. I need to hear anything that you’ve heard about shipwrecks in the past few weeks-“ Delaney could see the apprehension in his friend’s eyes “And I don’t care about the small fry stuff – this is a big international case. I’m only interested in anything to do with the Russian ship that sank off the coast, about two weeks ago?” Denis’s tongue slipped from his mouth and he licked his lips.
“Oh that – not sure we’re meant to know too much about that are we guv? I heard it got hushed up a bit didn’t it?” Denis’ eyes were scanning Delaney’s face, calculating all the while as to see what kind of reaction he might get from them.
“Yes, it was. And it was for a very good reason. You’ve heard about the coffin I suppose?” Dennis nodded.
“Big fuss it were guv and no mistake, local coroner wanted it all done by the book. I knew the lad who found it in the first place and called the police. He said… well he said he saw claw marks on the edge of the coffin.”
“Like a dog had gotten at it? When it washed ashore?”
“No,” Denis’ eyes wrinkled to the point that he looked as if he didn’t have any at all, “No I mean there was claw marks on the inside edge of it – like something had scratched its way out.”
If Denis was hoping to see shock on Delaney’s face it didn’t break through. The cruel, hard mask of a face that protected the constantly whirling mind of the service’s most effective agent, was turning.
Outside the air hit his face with the force of a tornado. He reached into his pocket, pulled out at Players, placed it in his mouth, took his lighter out and let the rush of nicotine enter his body. The light of the cigarette felt, despite the street lights and the pub’s somewhat dingy interior lighting, as if it was the only contrast to the enveloping dark around Delaney. He’d heard J’s story in full and he wasn’t sure he bought it but that didn’t matter – it was a job, like any other job and one that had to be done. He normally dealt with cases that were abroad, quieter affairs that required his explicit attention, his own particular skill set. None of those could be used without causing a fuss here – he was sure of that. Regardless of what happened next, he was sure that there would be a stink kicked up. Maybe some Red Notices slapped on the local rags. It was not the sort of thing he dealt with so he only heard about when he listened to the idle gossip of the tea ladies, who were the truly the best source of information. They were unrivalled in both their ability to make an Apple Crumble last an inordinately long time and pick up any little titbits of information about what had caused a fuss or what J and the very top brass were worried about. Delaney smiled ruefully – they were often silent when he was in the canteen, perhaps because they knew that much of their gossip revolved around him.
His eyes moved skyward – there was a sense of calm all around him, despite the lights, despite the noise. The never-ending crashes of the waves in the distance, though too distant to be heard could be felt in some strange way. The continuousness of them comforted Delaney in a strange way. Regardless of what he would do tonight; what he hoped to achieve the waves would still be there. They would splash on passers-by. They would erode the coastline, perhaps forever, bit by bit. They were as unstoppable as the march of time, the ever-ticking movement of his wristwatch. His walk up, back towards the ruins of the Abbey was not a long one. He enjoyed the sense that he was being watched carefully, assessed for how likely he was to react in a certain way. It demonstrated to him that what he was up against, despite the fear it had inspired in those around him was apprehensive of him. Uncertain what it was that he had been sent to do and whether or not he could do it.
The last few dog walkers were ambling their way past him as he reached the Abbey. The darkness around him felt oddly comfortable as if it was protecting him and keeping him out of sight of the object of his mission. He lit up another Players to not look too conspicuous to the overly curious dogs and their apologetic owners who came near him. He felt, perhaps ruefully, that if he had to come back to life he’d have liked to have come back as an Irish Wolf Hound or a Lurcher – dogs that weren’t simply pets but ones that still had that streak of purpose in them, of the desire for the hunt and all that came with it.
Delaney waited until he was certain he was alone. He placed his hand back into his pocket, replacing the cigarette lighter in it. He wanted to make sure he had it handy with him as he was sure that he’d need it. The package J had given him was in his overcoat and he felt it in his inside pocket. It was ready to be used even if the use for which it had been intended was not the one Delaney was most familiar with. He self consciously checked his holster and his trusty Bereta that was nestled in it. He preferred to use the Bereta for jobs like this than the Walther – it wasn’t quite as bulky and easier for him to draw quickly. Based on Denis’ information, he wouldn’t have long to wait until he would need to spring into the action, if springing was needed. He had hoped that he could be slightly subtler about it…
Delaney knew about setting up the distance from a target. Calculating all kinds of small details – the depth of perception, the range of the instrument (he disliked the word gun, it sounded far too Dirty Harry, better to say what it was called or what it was – an instrument for doing an operation) how quickly the target and those around him or her would react. He knew that the job in hand wouldn’t be a long distance one, but he liked to imagine that each task he was given was as it gave him a greater sense of perspective. He could infer, by doing it like this, how long the bullet would take the reach the target and the impact it would have. Which organ it might rupture, which artery it might nip.
He could see the main body of the Abbey but hoped the tree he was positioned behind would mean he could not be seen from it. The darkness that had at first seemed comforting became bleaker and blacked as night seemed to spiral towards its end. Delaney was beginning to wonder if this whole operation had been a wild goose chase – some kind of amusement for J and those stuck back in the office who felt that he, Delaney, was far too grand and full of himself. If it were then he’d be sure to enact some revenge – nothing too sinister just the odd tire slashing or ruined date.
Delaney was about to give up and give Denis, J and whoever he need came into contact an ear full when his ears pricked up. He could hear slow, deliberate footsteps crushing the corn in the fields behind the Abbey. He scrunched himself as much behind the tree as he could. He stared into the distance – he could see nothing and then a flicker of flame. Dazzling, burning intoxicating flames, light that seemed to be all the brighter because of how utterly dark his surroundings were. Delaney felt a cold sweat begin to break out across his body. My god, how many of them were there?
Their hooded cloaks disguised almost everything about them – they were sexless and colourless, haunting phantoms seemingly conjured up from the past. But for the occasional glimpse of wrist watches on some of the hands that held the flaming torches, Delaney would have thought that they were the monks come back to reclaim what was once their former home. There were twenty of them in total making their way slowly to the heart of the Abbey. As the last of them reached it, they moved to stand in a circle right in what would once have been the nave, their flaming torches seeming to transform the ruin into a circle of hell, the dancing flames seeming to bounce of the centuries old stone work and make it look as if the Abbey was beginning to burn.
For a moment, they stood in silence. Then, the figure who had led them up to the Abbey made a gesture towards the person standing on their right, handing them their flaming torch to hold along with the one the other person had originally held. Stepping forward into the centre of the circle, the leader slowly pulled back its hood. Beneath was a face unlike any that Delaney had ever seen. Almost completely bald save for a few whisps of hair that fluttered in the wind, the face was that of a true monster. Ears, most similar to those of a bat, seemed to protrude from the side of the head and point upwards as if attached less by flesh and more by some inhuman substance that welded them to it. The sharp, harsh features jutted out from the skull; curved, cruel lips with fangs protruding from the lay beneath less of a nose and more a hawk’s beak. It was a face that was devoid of any traces of humanity. It moved like a lumbering dog, its arms gravitating towards the floor and its head ever cocked as if trying to sense a possible intruder on its private thoughts. Satisfied that there wasn’t anyone it could detect, the creature turned towards the others stood in the circle.
“We are gathered here, brothers and sisters of the dark, to embrace the inevitable. To embrace the truth of the holy scripture of Nosferatu, the majesty of the Vampire. I am the vârcolac and I bring my gift to you all. Raise your hoods my children, embrace the night.” The creature turned its back to Delaney and beckoned at the hooded figures.
The hoods were slowly raised, one by one. Delaney squinted to try and make out the faces. Some of them he recognized – failed actors, minor (with the emphasis truly on minor) government ministers and one civil servant Delaney had met in passing once in Whitehall. None of them had any true significance in public life except as the dogsbodies of those who had the real power. They emitted nervousness like a bad smell, their faces twitching half in delight and half in anticipation of what might happen if they had played their cards incorrectly. Delaney knew what he had to do – the moment J had warned him about had arrived.
He straightened his back and reached into his overcoat pocket and pulled out the package. Slowly opening it, he took the thick wooden stake out and grasped it in one hand, transferring the hammer from the package into his jacket pocket. Slowly he edged forward, the sweat on his forehead feeling like it had become a plastic sheen stuck to it.
He hoped that the night might distract the creature but it seemed to sense his presence and turned around.
“Ah, I thought someone might come to spoil my fun.” The leering, curved mouth seemed ready to emit a laugh.
“Well I’d say that you were right on that score. Any fun that’s to be had tonight will be had by me.” Delaney reached into his side pocket and pulled out the Beretta.
The creature let the laugh it had been supressing out, a croaking cackle that echoed around the Abbey’s walls.
“You think your tiny gun can do anything to me? Scraps of metal aren’t going to scare me. “
Delaney smiled – he was glad that the creature was as arrogant as he’d expected it to be.
“Oh, this isn’t for you – it’s for them.” Aiming the Beretta straight at the closest member of the circle, Delaney squeezed the trigger. The bullet pierced the side of the man’s arm, and he let out a yelp of pain. The other members of the circle who had been standing aghast at Delaney’s entrance now regained some semblance of reality and began to drop their torches almost in unison. The man with the bullet wound, screaming with pain threw his torch directly at the creature who only just managed to avoid being set alight by it. The grass in the centre of the nave was soon consumed by fire, the green of the grass quickly becoming orange and then pure red rage.
“I knew that anyone who would choose to follow something like you would either have to be pretty stupid or feckless or both. Seems as if they were both.” The creature turned its head backwards and forwards, its fangs gritted together. The flames seemed to be enveloping it, creating a new circle around it but one not of its own making.
Delaney reached into his pocket and pulled out the hammer. It was time to make his move now – he had to be quick before the fire got to them both – it was quickly spreading throughout the Abbey’s ruins and he knew that very shortly the flames would attract attention; even at this time of night smoke from the town’s most famous landmark would be sure to bring both people and the fire service rushing forward to dampen it out.
The creature could perhaps sense what Delaney was intending and tried to back further and further away, despite how high the flames were licking around it. Delaney took one deep breath and launched forward, his legs propelling him head first into the centre of the creature forcing it to be winded in front of him, Delaney on top of it. Claw like fingers ripped at his overcoat, scratches seemed to appear across his body as Delaney attempted to get the upper hand on the creature. Despite its strange appearance it had a certain strength to it and knew that it had to fight for its life. The intensity of the heat was becoming greater all around them – fortunately the smoke was not yet too thick though Delaney was aware it would only be a matter of time before it overwhelmed them both. Digging deep into a reserve of energy, he released the force of one arm slightly so that he could fling it, the arm holding the stake, forward. The wood connected with the creature’s jaw, sending it jutting upwards at an awkward angle. Spit rained down from it, covering Delaney’s hand and he saw to his horror that it was having an acidic effect on his skin.
Biting down on his lip, Delaney raised his blistering hand high and brought the stake down decisively into the centre of the creature’s chest. A cry, guttural and full of pain, came flying from the creature’s lips. Delaney raised his other hand, the hammer falling down upon the top of the stake, driving it deeper and deeper into the creature’s chest, its arms writhing, gripping onto Delaney’s shoulders with all its might. The flames grew closer and closer, beginning to encroach on Delaney and the writhing creature. Delaney tried to move his arms, but the death throws of the vampire had given it a renewed strength – it seemed determined that if it were to finally embrace the darkness it thought it represented it would take Delaney with it.
Leaning forward, Delaney cracked his head down, connecting with the creature’s; at first it seemed to do nothing. Delaney head butted it again and again, blood trickling from his forehead. The blood dripped down his head, down his nose and onto the creature’s lips. The taste of it seemed to distract the creature for a moment – the taste of the blood seemed to bring it contentment and for a brief moment it loosened its grip. As it did so, Delaney wrenched backwards, throwing himself onto the burning grass and away from the creature. Hugging the shredded remains of his overcoat to him, Delaney pelted through the fires that was now licking up the walls of the Abbey. He ran and ran like he had never run before running further and further away until he was at the edge of the field that led directly to the Abbey’s remains. The smoke was billowing upwards, and Delaney could hear the screech of voices and engines. Before he passed into unconsciousness, Delaney was certain that the creature had managed to stand upright as the flames consumed it. Delaney’s eyes fluttered shut as the burning abomination seemed to laugh at him.
“Well, I’m sure you’re glad that’s all over.” J’s pipe smoke was quickly filling his office with greater rapidity than it usually did. Delaney coughed slightly – his boss’s lack of consideration was legendary, but this seemed to be taking the biscuit. J noticed his discomfort.
“Ah of course, I do apologize. I’m afraid old habits die hard. I suppose they’ll have to die another day but for the moment I’ll pause them for your sake.” J placed his pipe down and knocked the ash into his ash tray.
“Thank you, sir. Since the ending of that business at the Abbey, my lungs aren’t as strong as they once were – the doctors say that I should be right as rain soon but presently… well I can’t even think about lighting a Marlborough or a Players without shuddering.” Delaney tried to smile but his teeth itched too much for him to be able to fully enjoy the moment.
“Understandable of course. Well, I’m glad it’s all wrapped up now. Not the sort of thing we want being spread around – especially with all those minor officials being entangled in it. I don’t know what the Undersecretary was thinking of getting involved in it all. Him an ex Naval man as well. The PM has quietly dismissed him – he’ll retain his seat of course, don’t want to cause too much fuss but I don’t think it’ll be long before he gets dispatched to the obscurity that he deserves.” J swung his chair towards his window, looking across London towards Westminster.
“It’s a good thing that he didn’t end up fully submitting to that monster though sir – who knows what damage he could have caused. I’m guessing it was Reader, the civil servant who tipped you off?” Delaney was trying to concentrate on the debriefing, but his mind seemed to be going elsewhere – lingering on the steak he’d eaten for lunch… it had been very red…
“How perceptive of you. Yes, Reader had been under observation for some time as he’d been acting oddly. We thought he was going to defect until the ship sinking. A phone tap here and a few discrete questions to his landlady and the whole thing slowly became apparent. Of course, we never dreamed how far it might go but, in these matters, I always like to err on the side of caution.” J swivelled round in his chair and looked at Delaney thoughtfully.
“Are you feeling alright?” Delaney shook off his far away look for a moment to turn his gaze back to his boss’ trouble eyes.
“Yes of course sir – just still feel a bit rough after the whole thing. Was more of an ordeal than I thought it would be.” Delaney forced himself to focus, but his mind kept wandering… blood seemed to be coming at him from all angles…
“Yes well of course. Make sure you get some good rest – at least a couple of weeks should do it. Try and improve your handicap whilst you can. There is one point I’d like to clarify – how on earth did you know that they’d try and enact their bizarre ceremony at the Abbey?”
“Well sir,” Delaney suddenly felt on safer ground now – the events at the Abbey seemed to be far more intoxicating that the conversation he was having right now – “It was all down to Denis. Local man, I’ve known him for years. Based on what you said about the shipwreck and the package you’d given me I knew there’d be some hocus pocus going on somewhere and that kind of operation doesn’t go totally unnoticed. In order to carry it off you need supplies, support financial or otherwise, that kind of thing. Denis knew that I was looking out for some something unusual and once he began listing the odd things that had been ordered in bulk recently, the torches, plenty of petrol, those stupid cloaks I knew I was on the right track. Factor in the fact that according to Denis the same people who had been buying up all that rubbish had also been out of town and been trying to put the word around that any local would be richly rewarded if the Abbey was kept clear for the night – well it all made sense.” Delaney suddenly felt exhausted – as if the sunlight framing J through his window was somehow too intense for him to stand.
“Excellent piece of work I must say. I’ll certainly be putting you up for a discreet reward – not a K or anything of the kind but something that you can enjoy.” The cautious glower that had been across J’s face had vanished and he seemed to be relaxed once more.
“Well thank you sir. The first thing I think is, if that’s alright with you sir, take up that offer of a brief holiday. I feel like I need it.” J nodded at him and Delaney got up, slightly stiffer than he thought he should. Damn it, he really did need that break.
“Capital notion. You going to go to Norfolk, Suffolk? Maybe even Cornwall?”
“No sir – “again that sensation that he was being pulled somewhere else “I think somewhere a little further afield. I thought perhaps maybe somewhere in Europe – maybe somewhere near to the East, it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Delaney slowly turned towards the door to the office, his body feeling as if it was going to collapse under the sudden strange weight of the sunlight.
“Well make sure to send me a postcard when you get there.” J was already buried deep in some paperwork, having mentally dismissed Delaney moments before.
“Yes of course sir.” Delaney opened the door carefully, almost gingerly. On the other side of it he breathed a sigh of relief. That last job really had taken it out of him. He still felt fragile and only when he ate – something like an undercooked steak or black pudding – did he really seem to come alive. Most of the scars on his body had healed but he still felt so listless and languid. It didn’t help that two of them, almost imperceptible to the human eye, on his collar bone didn’t seem to be healing at all. They were still as deep and sore as when he’d first noticed them the day he woke up in hospital.
Mentally dismissing them, Delaney walked quickly out of J’s office and down the stairs towards the entrance to Headquarters. He was sure a holiday would soon restore him to full fighting health. He might even meet someone worth falling in love with – at least for two weeks. He’d heard that Eastern Europe was especially nice during this time of year and that Transylvania really was a charming place to visit…
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