The Bitten(5)

"That's why we have taken you," the strange man said.

Berkfield studied his abductor intently. He had a wild rush of silver hair all over his head, piercing gray eyes, and a seeking expression. He looked like someone's professor. His accent was foreign, but hard to place. His demeanor was calm, almost too calm.

"What do you want?" Berkfield noted the four heavily armed men on either side of the professor.

"We're trying to protect you," the man said.

"Protect me?" Berkfield's eyes narrowed. "What branch of government are you from?"

The man offered a patient smile. "What's about to happen is an international issue. Not just an American issue. But you, my friend, are at risk."

Berkfield ran his sweaty palm over his bald scalp. His objective was singular - get home to ensure that these nuts hadn't harmed his family. "I'm just a cop on a local force - not worth much to anybody," he hedged.

The man's face became stern and the polite smile vanished from his face. "Let's stop playing games, Detective Berkfield - or is it Captain now? You are lucky to have so narrowly escaped death at the hands of your partner. And even more lucky to be placed under the protective seal of the master vampire in this territory, Carlos Rivera."

Stunned, Berkfield leaned forward. "You've seen him? What do you know?" His voice escalated. Someone else, somebody in authority, knew there was such a thing as vampires! Berkfield grabbed his captor's arms. The henchmen bristled, but the man before him remained calm. He nodded reassuringly.

Gently extricating himself from Berkfield's hold, the man sat back and removed his sunglasses. "They are the most fascinating creatures we have yet to study," he said. "They have abilities that we could never fathom. Until we found out about your situation, we thought that they didn't have anything resembling a conscience梩hat their capacity to discern emotions, like empathy, was impossible. But they can, which means there may be hope."

Total confusion kept Berkfield riveted, but there were so many questions that he needed to ask that he couldn't contain himself.

"You actually know there are such things as vampires? You guys study them? You've seen the vampires? You know about Carlos? When did he become one? How? We'd just seen him taking a stroll by day, then, bam, just like that, he's a creature of the night桝nd the girl. Is she one? I'm not bitten, am I? You guys work for the feds, black ops? CIA? You said my family is at risk. Why? Some-fucking-body talk to me!"

"Take a deep breath, Mr. Berkfield," the man ordered. "Yes, to all of the above, except we don't work for the feds. Every government has been searching for its next weapon of mass destruction. They've each set up very small, well-funded, independent science teams to research these areas. But a few years ago, several of us broke away from our countries and banded together under an international umbrella. Once the governments saw that they'd lose their top scientists and that their threats had minimal effect on men who'd lived their entire lives on a quest of knowledge, they begrudgingly funded our group. Currently, we're made up of all the global superpowers. Recently we began to follow up on some old German research."

The man's eyes contained pain, and his voice became weary. "Our directive, when attached to our respective countries, was simple. Find a way to harness the paranormal, if it existed, and give it to the highest bidder within our respective military units. Phase one was to determine if there was such a thing as a paranormal plane. We succeeded with those tests. But as we gained further insights, it became apparent that the dark energy was limitless and stratified - almost like finding out there's an entire universe within a universe... space exploration is nothing compared to what we've uncovered. Yet, it's all linked; the esoteric sciences are just as real as hard quantum physics."

He gazed at Berkfield, his beady, gray eyes shining. "We also found out that there was another side - a side we hadn't considered. If there's a Hell, there's a Heaven," he whispered. "You cannot even begin to quantify the energy of that realm. Since we couldn't capture it, they wanted us to abandon that as a potential source for weaponry and to focus on dark matter. That's when the group fractured... Several good scientists died or, better stated, were murdered or driven mad. Those of us who survived now pretend to go along with the demands of our governments."

Berkfield sat very still. "So, you guys are like a hostage ghost-busters team?" he said as he continued to look for a possible escape route.

The man sighed. "Don't be foolish. We found hard evidence behind every myth and legend. We've catalogued demon fila, Detective Berkfield. The ancient high priests, warlocks, witches, generals, you name it, called on deities to assist them in wartimes. The new era of so-called reason has made us forget their power."

"So, you plan to do what with me and my family?"

Raking his fingers through his hair, the man looked Berkfield in the eye. "Listen carefully. We don't have much time. There are two sides of this organization - those insane enough to believe that they can open up the gates of Hell and contain what comes out of it, so that they can proceed with imperialistic desires to rule humanity. And those of us who, after having studied the phenomena, have enough respect for it to leave it alone. We know that chaos will ensue. Therefore, the group is philosophically at odds with itself and threatening to implode. That means that valuable and dangerous research will spill out into the various nations that support this work, and as we all know, anything is for sale on the black market. Do you follow?"

Berkfield nodded, but he still didn't understand his role. This whole story was too bizarre to wrap his mind around.

"You, my friend, are currently under the protective seal of the master vampire who controls this region; therefore, right now, you're in full favor. The dark side essentially has a no-hit policy on you, and the Light apparently has you covered, as well. However, the way the power shifts seem to work within the vampire world are very much like old feudal law - they wipe out anything once associated with the outgoing incumbent. Understood?"

Terror halted Berkfield's breath for a moment. He touched his throat and then his fingers slid down to the small gold cross that he never took off. "But I'm a believer," he rasped. "How could I be marked by the dark side?"

The scientist calmly reached beneath his olive green flack-jacket and pulled a long chain from beneath it, bearing a sterling silver Star of David. "I'm a believer, too. The mark isn't physically on your body. It's in your aura. That's what we measure - energy fields, if you will. Our equipment cannot pick up much more than that. All we can ascertain is that a very strong energy from the nether realms has been gathering in the region, and it has been sending out sensor tentacles in your direction. Time is nigh, my friend. We're not exactly sure what this means, but it cannot be good."

"My wife, my kids - how do I get this f**king seal off me? I didn't ask for it, I don't even understand it!"

"That's why we want you to make a decision - quickly - to come work for us. Maybe, just maybe, you hold the key to bringing both sides to a standstill, a stalemate. You were deemed a good man by both sides. You could be the key to creating world peace. We must have an opportunity to study you, understand the conditions that led up to - "

"No! I don't know! This is all so crazy!" Berkfield put his head in his hands. "I want my old life back, my kids and wife safe. I want to read the damned paper, drink beer, and worry about gas prices. I do not want to be a guinea pig, nor do I want my family traumatized."

"Then you should have never become a crime fighter, never should have made that bargain in that alley, never should have started researching otherworldly phenomena and come up on our radar. I am a man of logic. I'm a scientist with thirty years of hard research under my belt and degrees that would..." The man stopped, swallowed hard, his voice gravelly with emotion. He spread his hands before Berkfield, imploring him to understand.

"I'm no cop. I'm no weapons designer. I opened a gate in a lab and found Hell," he said in a barely audible tone. "I thought I was losing my mind, and I cried out to God to save me, and another door opened and bright light bearing a blade shut the gate. We all saw it - and all of those colleagues joined us that day." The man's gaze slid away and he held the hair at his temples in clenched fists as he stared at the locked back door. "Some said it was a group hallucination. We told our superiors and they gave us an unlimited budget. That's when I knew we were in trouble." His voice dipped to a scratchy murmur. "They don't open the financial floodgates unless they know you're close. We're so close, and so are they."

"I thought I was the only one..." Berkfield said, dazed.

"So did we," the professor said sadly. "Then we began religious research, started looking at texts we had never considered in our scientific quest." He glanced up at Berkfield. "Ever wonder why you were spared that night in the alley where your partner double-crossed you and pulled a gun on you? Ever wonder what higher purpose you are to serve?"