LITMIR.BIZ

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its results.

       Subject name: - ANDERSON (UNKNOWN)

       Species: - VAMPIRE

       Priority level: - A2

       Known associates: - RUSMANOV, ALEXANDRU RUSMANOV, VALERI RUSMANOV, ILYANA

       Most recent sighting: - 24/3/2007

       Whereabouts: - UNKNOWN

      Jamie breathed out a sigh of relief, and looked at Larissa, gratitude all over his tired face. Larissa smiled at him, and mouthed, ‘Told you.’

      “Zoom out and switch to infra red,” said Seward.

      The picture switched from the still of Anderson to a live close-up of the building he had just entered, then drew out and up until it again showed the entire estate. Then, as the infrared kicked in, it changed to a series of coloured swirls; waves of dark blue and black where the cold woods and lawns had been, the H of the main house a rainbow of yellow and orange, studded with moving blobs of hot, dark red.

      “There must be thirty of them in there,” said the Lieutenant.

      Frankenstein turned his chair and looked at the Director. Seward was staring at the screen, his jaw set firm, assessing what he was seeing in front of him. After a long pause, he spoke, and the monster closed his eyes with relief.

      “Scramble a strike team,” said Seward. “Four squads. Full weapons and tactical. I want wheels up in thirty minutes.”

      He looked down at the men in the seats below him, as if suddenly remembering they were there.

      “Frankenstein, Morris, you will lead squads 2 and 4. Carpenter, you will be limited to the transport. I would leave you here, but given the events of today I believe I would rather have you where I can keep an eye on you.”

      Jamie opened his mouth to protest, but Seward cut him off.

      “Do not try my patience any further, young man. I’m giving you a gift by letting you come at all. Don’t make me take it back.”

      Jamie closed his mouth.

      “Security,” continued the Director. “Take her back to her cell, then report to the hangar for briefing.”

      Suddenly the whole room was moving. Seward stepped down from the command platform and strode towards the door. The two Operators who had been guarding Larissa took her by the shoulders and led her in the same direction, towards the lift that would return her to the cellblock, deep in the bowels of the base. Jamie jumped to his feet, calling her name. She looked back at him briefly, then turned away, allowing herself to be led out of the room.

      “It’s not fair,” he shouted at Frankenstein and Morris, who had risen from their chairs and were watching him. “She did what she promised.”

      “She can’t go,” said Frankenstein. “You know she can’t.”

      Jamie looked at Morris, who stared uncomfortably at the ground.

      “Fine,” he spat. “Let’s go and get my mother. We can deal with Larissa when we get back.”

      Chapter 34

      THE HUNTING PARTY

      The mobilisation of the Department 19 strike team was a sight unlike anything Jamie had ever seen.

      The hangar on Level 0 was a hive of activity: Operators in black uniform and purple visors filled the wide floor, clustered into tight circles as officers, Frankenstein and Morris among them, briefed them on the mission ahead. The hum of voices and the click of weapons being checked was deafening in the silent night air, but Jamie barely heard it; his attention was trained on the large structures that loomed in the darkness on the other side of the runway.

      The doors of two of the buildings were slowly rolling open, spilling bright white light across the tarmac, illuminating the white markings that led to the runway. Two enormous black shapes were slowly being revealed, and Jamie watched, fascinated.

      Inside the hangars stood a pair of black helicopters, their fuselages hanging bloated and swollen beneath twin sets of rotors. They were so tall and wide that Jamie could not believe they were capable of flight; their cockpits sat tiny above their bellies, which were the size of a suburban house. Behind him, he could hear the voices of Frankenstein and Morris giving orders to their men, but he paid no attention. It had been made clear to him that he was not going to be allowed to be involved in the mission, that his role was purely that of an observer, and so he saw no reason to bother with the briefings and the mission priority checklists. Instead he stood alone, in the huge arc of the main hangar’s open door, and watched.

      With two earth-rattling explosions of sound, the engines of the helicopters growled into life. Jamie felt the vibrations shudder through him, even though he was the length of a football field away from the towering vehicles. Lights blinked on in the cockpits, and Jamie could see the pilots, impossibly small, running through their pre-flight checks. Then there were two heavy screeches of rubber, and the helicopters began to move towards him, rolling slowly over the tarmac under the power of their diesel engines, towards the strike team that would soon occupy them.

      As they crossed the runway and emerged into the bright light of the open main hangar, Jamie gasped. The scale of the vehicles was vast; they towered above him, at least two storeys tall, and as wide as a 747. They looked as though someone had taken the cockpit, wings, landing gear and rotor assemblies from a normal-sized helicopter and then glued them on to a huge steel box.

       They can’t fly. Surely they can’t. They’re too big.

      Then a new thought occurred to him.

       What the hell goes in there? Sixty men won’t fill half of one of them.

      Behind him in the main hangar, the Blacklight officers shouted at their men to form up. Jamie turned and watched the squads line up into four neat lines, evenly spaced, facing out towards the waiting helicopters. Light blasted out of the bellies of the helicopters, and his shadow raced away in front of him, reaching the feet of the motionless soldiers.

      “Jamie!” shouted Frankenstein. “Get out of the way! Next to me!”

      Covering his eyes with his forearm, Jamie squinted up at the huge transports. The near sides of both vehicles had lowered, meeting the tarmac as wide ramps. Inside, beyond the blinding white lights, he could see hulking shapes at the top of each ramp, then he was grabbed by the arm and pulled to the side as the squads of Blacklight Operators marched forwards and upwards, disappearing into the cavernous interiors.

      Frankenstein loomed over him.

      “Are you going to make this difficult?” he asked, leaning down so his eyes were level with the teenager’s. “Or are you going to stay out of the way and let us do our job? Tell me now, so I know.”

      Jamie stared up him. Frankenstein was looking at him with no compassion, no pity; he was all business.

      OK. Have it your way. If it brings my mum home, have it your way. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he answered. “I won’t get in the way.”

      Frankenstein smiled at him.

      “Thank you,” he replied.

      They ran out to the nearest helicopter, crouching low beneath the screaming rotors. They climbed the ramp and headed to the right, where two of the Blacklight squads were sitting, in eight rows of heavy-duty flight seats. Frankenstein and Jamie sat down alongside them, and strapped themselves in. Jamie looked around the enormous interior of the helicopter, his eyes widening.

      In front of him were two jet-black armoured vehicles, huge and heavy-looking, with two enormous wheels on each side, the kind of wheels that looked like they belonged on a monster truck. Guns bristled from a turret atop each vehicle, and a purple

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