LITMIR.BIZ

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His name is Alexandru. And he is the main reason we’re sitting here now, having this conversation.”

      “Who is he? What will he... what will he do to my mother?”

      “I’ll get to him. The business with Dracula occurred in 1891, two years after your great-grandfather took work in Professor Van Helsing’s house. The men who survived the journey to Transylvania, whose names you no doubt know...”

      “Harker,” said Jamie, distantly. “One of them was called Harker.”

      He turned and looked at the bronze plaque on the garden wall, saw the names engraved on it, and felt things start to click into place in his mind.

      You believe him. Or are starting to, at least. My God.

      “Jonathan Harker,” Frankenstein replied. “That’s right. He, along with Professor Van Helsing, John Seward and Arthur Holmwood, swore an oath when they returned home, a promise they would remain vigilant, and deal with Dracula again if it was ever required.”

      There was a sharp intake of breath from the teenager.

      “It wasn’t,” Frankenstein continued, quickly. “Trust me, he’s dead. Unfortunately, he was not the only vampire in the world; merely the first, and the most powerful. He was a man once, the Prince of a country called Wallachia, named Vlad Tepes. A terrible man, who butchered and murdered thousands of people. In 1475, his army lost its final battle, and he disappeared along with most of his supporters, until he appeared a year later in Transylvania, calling himself Count Dracula. With him were his three most loyal generals from the Wallachian Army. Three brothers; Valeri, Alexandru, who you met yesterday, and Valentin. As a reward for their loyalty, Dracula made them like him, along with their wives. And for four hundred years, they were the only vampires in the world, their power and their immortality jealously guarded by Dracula, who forbade them from turning anyone else. But when Dracula was killed, the rules died with him, and the brothers began to convert a new army of their own. In the last years of the nineteenth century, the condition began to spread. And it’s still spreading.”

      Frankenstein paused, then cleared his throat, a deep sound like a bulldozer’s engine starting up.

      “This organisation, the base you are in now, the people you met yesterday, it all grew from the promise those men made to be vigilant. They grew exponentially throughout the twentieth century, founding equivalent organisations in Russia, America, India, Germany and Egypt, becoming what you see around you.”

      Frankenstein gave Jamie a sly grin.

      “Which, to all intents and purposes, doesn’t exist. The only people outside the organisation who know about us are the Prime Minister and the Chief of the General Staff. No one can ever acknowledge its existence, or tell anyone they are a member. As your grandfather was. And your father. And as you would have been offered the chance to be, in about five years’ time.”

      Frankenstein stopped talking. Jamie waited to see if he had merely paused, and once it became clear that he was finished, tried to think of a way to respond to what he had just been told.

      “So...” he began. “What you’re telling me is that my dad was a secret agent who fought vampires for a living. Real vampires, who actually exist, in the real world. Is that right? Is that what you’re asking me to believe?”

      “I’m telling you the truth,” Frankenstein replied. “I can’t make you believe it.”

      “You have to realise how crazy this sounds, though. Surely?”

      “I know it is a lot to take in. And I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. But it is the truth.”

      “But... vampires?”

      “Not just vampires,” answered the monster. “Werewolves, mummies, zombies, any number of other monsters.”

      “Werewolves? Come on.”

      “Yes, Jamie, werewolves.”

      “Full moon, silver bullets, all that stuff?”

      “Silver bullets are unnecessary,” said Frankenstein. “Normal bullets will work just fine. But the moon controls them, as it always has.”

      Jamie’s interest was piqued, despite his scepticism. “What are they like?” he asked. “Have you ever seen one?”

      Frankenstein nodded.

      “They are terrible, tormented creatures,” he said. “Savage, and instinctive. I hope you never encounter one.”

      Jamie paused. “And where do you fit into all this?” he asked, cautiously.

      “You’re a well-read boy,” Frankenstein replied drily. “You work it out.”

      “But that was just a novel,” Jamie replied.

      “Like Dracula?”

      “Well... yes.”

      Frankenstein looked away. “That miserable little girl,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “She gave my pain to the world as entertainment.”

      Jamie tried another angle. “So what happened the night my father died? I mean, what really happened?”

      For a moment he didn’t think the monster was going to respond. Frankenstein was staring into the distance, lost in his memories. But then he shook his head, as if trying to clear it, and answered.

      “I don’t think you’re ready to hear about that yet.”

      The cruelty of this statement almost broke Jamie’s heart. He composed himself, though not so quickly that the watching Frankenstein failed to notice, and continued.

      “What about yesterday?” he asked.

      “Alexandru has been looking for you and your mother ever since your father died. Yesterday he found you.” Frankenstein replied. He saw the look on Jamie’s face, and anticipated the question that was coming. “We don’t yet know how. But he did.” “Why am I still alive?”

      “The girl, Larissa her name is, was supposed to kill you. She didn’t do it.”

      “Why?”

      “We don’t know that either. She says she won’t talk to anyone except you.”

      “Me?” Jamie asked, his eyes suddenly wide. “Why me?”

      “Don’t worry about that now.”

      “What about my mother? Is she... is she dead?”

      “Our assumption is that your mother is being ransomed by Alexandru.”

      “Ransomed for what?”

      Frankenstein looked at the boy with great sadness.

      “For you, Jamie.”

      The monster and the boy sat in silence for a long time, letting those three terrible words sink in, until eventually Frankenstein stood up. His shadow engulfed Jamie entirely, and he reached a hand down to the boy, who took it and let himself be pulled to his feet.

      Frankenstein led him along the wooden path and out of the rose garden. They walked in silence across the vast field towards the low dome until they crossed the empty runway and Jamie finally spoke again.

      “What do they call all this?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

       My mother. Oh God, my mother. The thing in the grey coat has my mother.

      “This?” Frankenstein replied, sweeping an arm to indicate the huge circular base. “This is Classified Military Installation 303-F. But everyone calls it The Loop, for reasons I’m sure you’re clever enough to work out.”

      Jamie glanced round at the enormous circular base, and smiled. “Not the base,” he said. “The organisation. What’s the organisation called?”

      Frankenstein smiled.

      “I’ll

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