“Twelve hours.”
*****
John timed himself as he planned the words of his speech. He was no longer nervous and sensed things would be in his control. He knew everything would go according to plan, provided he received the ultimatum. He had his frequency set to the vampires’. This special connection was established for diplomatic situations such as these. He knew however, this incoming message would be a cry for blood and war. He stared at the empty, black screen on his wall. He checked the clock in the office and the watch on his wrist: they both showed 8:25. Kurt would be coming in five minutes, which gave him enough time to prepare for his speech.
The office was filled with old war relics, which John loved collecting. Some he had bought at auctions and exhibitions before the Coming of the Vampires. Life was good then. Politics were sensible. There was no constantly changing government like there had been in these twenty one years. A white marble bust of Napoleon, John’s favorite general, sat on the coffee table watching his every move. Two comfortable leather chairs were placed near a large fireplace opposite a library full of books about war strategies. The collection also included classics by Dickens, Dumas, Bronte, Hugo, and Shakespearean plays, of which John was a huge reader and adorer. His desk stretched almost twelve feet long, carved out of the trunk of an oak tree and varnished with a dark reddish-brown lacquer. A pile of cluttered files lay on it along with a computer and many books bound in leather. These were John’s own works on the vampire race. The vampires’ vast and authentic history had always intrigued him from the very beginning. In comparison, the history of the human race seemed short, tragic, and redundant. At least ninety five percent of vampiric history was conclusive. Their history was filled with extensive facts and there were no contradictions. John’s fascination grew to the point where Aidan had instructed that he be the unofficial historian for both vampires and humans alike. Aidan wanted John to convey to future generations, when the time came, the history of the War for Existence, which took place before Alex’s birth and the War of Vengeance, which he named the Coming War.
There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said and the door opened. The man standing at the threshold was of medium stature with a long thin face and whiskers for a mustache that were the fieriest of orange. He grinned like an innocent child as he saluted John. He walked to the desk and John told him to sit down. “It’s good to see you, Kurt,” said John, smiling.
“Same here, General,” said Kurt, his grin growing double. He ruffled his hair, which was the same color as his whiskers and sighed, “It’s been too long, I’d say.”
“Yes,” John said. “Definitely too long. You should keep in touch more often.”
“Ah, you know, with the training, and the work I got at home...”
“Work?”
“Yeah, I’m actually writing a book.”
“Really?” asked John. “What about?”
“I’m compiling a history of the Regnum. It’s still in its initial stages, but right now, I’m interested in the latest development.”
John laughed. “Brilliant! Now you sound more like a journalist.”
Kurt gave a warm smile at this. “Well, you have to admit: it’s a bloody good story!”
“Yes,” John said. He got up and went over to the small bar where he poured some whiskey for Kurt and himself. “You know, I am very interested in this project of yours, Kurt. You have to tell me more about it,” he came back with two glasses in his hands, “But,” he gave Kurt one, “I want to get down to business first.”
“Of course,” Kurt said, sipping his glass, “Tell me what you had in mind.”
“How are your boys?” John asked, meaning the pilots Kurt had trained.
“As usual, in top shape.”
“Good. Can we have them ready by tomorrow?”
“Sure. So, you really are serious?”
“Of course, my friend,” John said, “This is the time. With Alex on the Earth, I will negotiate with the Regent and the President for his release.”
“Bit risky, isn’t it?”
“Well, that’s where you and your boys come in.”
“How many you need?”
“About a hundred.”
Kurt nodded, contemplating and beginning to make plans already. “And all of them, by the next day?”
“Yeah. I figure there’s going to be an attack, and you will have to come to cover Alex and me along with a few ground soldiers.”
“That would require about fifteen to twenty, I reckon.” He paused to see John’s reaction. John simply nodded. “So why the extras?”
“I suppose there will be a lot of defense in space itself, but very little in the atmosphere,” John said, “So, what we should do, is attack them when they least expect it. Take down their cities, destroy as much as possible, so they know we’re serious about it, and this will give us the advantage.”
“But how do we know where to attack and what to attack?”
“I figure the place of negotiation will be an important part of the Earth, somewhere the vamps deem special or vital for their security.”
“Why do you think that?”
“It’s just an educated guess, but I think that they won’t waste time looking for a God-forsaken area to negotiate. They will want to get the killing done with as fast as possible. I guess they think we are stupid and so they won’t really expect a heavy air strike.”
“Okay.”
“Just remember: first let out twenty fighters, so that they think that’s all we have and when I say so, let out the entire air strike.”
“Any places in particular?”
“Not really. When the time comes for that, you’ll know.”
“Alright. As you say, General,” Kurt said taking his glass and raising it in a toast.
The screen John had been looking at flickered and Daniel’s face appeared on it. “General Howe,” Daniel said.
“President Gareng,” John said, “how do you do?”
“We have reason to believe that you have broken clause number 108765. Because of this disobedience and outright audacity, there will be consequences.”
“Oh?” John said in a mocking tone.
“Yes,” Daniel pretended to not notice the sarcasm. “And since you have hidden the Falsifier from us, and now that he is in our custody, we ask you to destroy all your arms within the next twelve hours. We are prepared to be merciful this one time, since this is the first collective instant.”
“I see.”
“You have twelve hours,” Daniel repeated quickly.
Before Daniel disconnected, John said, “No, President Gareng. You are sadly mistaken. You have twelve hours.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have twelve hours to return Alex to his rightful place, or we will attack.”
Daniel laughed. “Is that so? Surely we can negotiate.”
“Negotiate?” John paused, acting as if he was considering the thought. “Alright. In the next twelve hours, I shall come, albeit with a few guards for my protection, to negotiate. I’m sure we will arrive at a decision that will suit both our best interests.”
“So be it,” Daniel said. “You may meet me here. I am sending you the coordinates.” As soon as the pictures had come up on the screen, Daniel flickered away. The map on the screen showed that the destination was in the Atlantic, somewhere near England.
“How can that be?” said Kurt, “There ain’t no land mass there.” “Yeah, but whatever is there, like I said, is of key importance.” “Hmm.” “Well, looks like there’s been a change of plans.” Kurt looked at him, his eyes unblinking. “We move out in the next twelve hours.”
Angel held the newspaper limply in her hand. The top story of the day covered John’s rise to dictatorial power and the appointment of Richard as Vice-Chancellor, but what had shocked and frightened her most was the news about Alex and the Rebels. According to the reports, Alex was a hybrid of vampire and human. She watched the television, waiting for Mr. Howe to come on for the coronation ceremony. She felt, like the others in Regnum, betrayed and hurt, but for her this was much more personal. She worried about herself and her mother, who was working silently in the kitchen. Her father grunted at the mention of John Howe and cursed under his breath. She felt constricted. She feared in her heart that they would soon tell her to abort the baby. In any case, they were waiting for John’s speech to confirm everything. His confirmation would more settle the matter and Angel would have little choice but to abort the unholy thing in her womb.