Chapter 16
The alarm bells shattered the predawn quiet like breaking glass, their shrill clanging reverberating through the ship’s metal corridors.
Around me, my flock awakened with supernatural speed, their bodies tensing for action before their minds fully processed the situation.
The ship’s intercom crackled to life: “All special units to the main deck immediately. This is not a drill.” Desiderius stood at the door to our quarters, his frame casting no shadow despite the harsh corridor lights behind him.
I caught his eye; the slight tightening at the corners of his mouth was all the emotion his ancient face betrayed.
Neither of us had anticipated the test of our preparations would come so soon.
We moved through the ship with preternatural quiet, our footsteps making no sound against the metal decking despite our haste.
Regular crewmen flattened themselves against bulkheads as we passed, their eyes averted, heartbeats accelerating.
They knew what we were, or suspected enough to fear us.
I felt a familiar pang at their reaction—the gulf between our kinds had never seemed wider.
The main deck lay shrouded in darkness, the ship running without lights to avoid detection.
Moonlight spilled across the churning Atlantic, transforming the waves into endless shifting patterns of silver and shadow.
The air carried the sharp bite of salt and the faint metallic tang of approaching rain.
I inhaled deeply, tasting the atmosphere, sensing the subtle shifts that told me dawn was still several hours away.
I prayed it would be time enough for the mission that awaited us.
Captain Mercer stood at the railing, his silhouette crisp against the night sky. He turned as we assembled, his face betraying nothing but cool assessment as he counted heads. Dr. Gallow hovered nearby, clipboard still in hand despite the crisis, his glasses reflecting twin crescents of moonlight.
“German U-boat detected on our starboard side,” Mercer announced without preamble, his voice pitched low enough that only our enhanced hearing could catch his words over the wind and waves. “Three nautical miles and closing. Intel suggests it’s the U-19, one of their newer Wolf Pack vessels.”
He unfolded a diagram on a small table bolted to the deck, weighing its corners with brass instruments.
“The submarine will surface briefly to confirm our identity before attacking. That gives us a narrow window to strike first.” His finger traced a path across the diagram.
“I’ll lead Alpha team—Vincent, Ruth, Catherine, and James—in a direct assault through the conning tower once it surfaces. ”
He looked up, his gaze sweeping across our faces. “Our mission is simple: neutralize the German crew, secure any intelligence materials, and disable the vessel for later retrieval by Allied ships.”
“Neutralize?” The truth of the euphemism wasn’t lost on me. “You mean kill.”
Mercer’s expression hardened slightly. “This is war, Miss Bladewell. The U-19 has sunk three Allied vessels in the past month. Over four hundred lives were lost.”
“And adding thirty more German sailors won’t bring them back,” I countered.
“This isn’t about vengeance,” Mercer said, though something in his tone suggested otherwise. “It’s about operational security. We cannot risk being discovered.”
“There are other ways,” I insisted. “We can disable their weapons, their communications, and their navigation systems. Render them helpless without bloodshed.”
“Dead Germans can’t spread tales of monsters,” Mercer replied. “Any survivor becomes a potential witness of what we are.”
Desiderius, who had been studying the submarine diagram with careful attention, looked up. “Perhaps they should,” he suggested. “If the Germans believe they are fighting against superhumans, think of the panic, the blow to their morale.”
Mercer considered this. “Psychological warfare has merit,” he admitted reluctantly.
“But it also has risks,” I added. “If the Germans learn what we are, what’s to stop them from acquiring their own ‘superhumans’? We could find ourselves facing enemies who share our abilities but lack our restraint.”
Mercer laughed dismissively. “That’s preposterous. The German high command would never sanction such methods. They’re too rigid, too traditional in their approach to warfare.”
“As was our government,” I reminded him, “until desperation made the unthinkable acceptable.” I gestured to our assembled flock. “We stand as living proof of how quickly men abandon their principles for the sake of victory.”
A muscle twitched in Mercer’s jaw—the only outward sign that my words had landed.
“Your concerns are noted, Miss Bladewell. But ultimately irrelevant.” He straightened, assuming the posture of command that seemed as natural to him as breathing once had.
“This is why we’re here. I command this unit, not you. General Gantry’s orders were explicit.”
The mention of Gantry’s name—and the implicit threat against Bishop Harkins that it carried—effectively ended the debate.
I pressed my lips together, containing arguments that would serve no purpose now.
The decision had been made long before this moment, perhaps before we had even boarded this vessel.
“Beta team,” Mercer continued, “led by Desiderius with Thomas, Rebecca, and Maria, will secure the engine room and communications center.” He turned to me. “Gamma team, under Miss Bladewell with Brother Andrew and Sister Constance, will locate and secure any intelligence materials.”
The delegation of teams was strategic—he had assigned me the task furthest from direct combat, with the two vampires whose control was unquestioned.
Our most vulnerable, our newest recruits, were given the most violet of assignments.
He also split me up from Rebecca and Ruth, perhaps realizing I might use my influence as their sire to limit their aggression.
A strategic decision that ensured German throats would meet newly-sharpened fangs rather than mercy.
Dr. Gallow stepped forward, directing crewmen to distribute what appeared to be specialized equipment.
“Waterproof garments,” he explained. “Designed to withstand extreme pressure and to streamline your movement underwater.” The black rubber suits looked eerily like a second skin, complete with hoods that would cover everything but our faces.
“These have never been tested at the depths you’ll be operating,” Gallow added, his scientific curiosity evident despite the tension of the moment. “The data from your descent will prove invaluable for future operations.”
“We’re not your laboratory rats, Doctor.”
His smile was thin and entirely professional.
“Everything in war advances science, Miss Bladewell. Your participation is merely more... unique than most. And your unique physiology eliminates the need for breathing apparatus and grants you resistance to the crushing depths where no human diver could survive.”
As my flock donned the strange garments, I noticed Ruth’s excitement, the gleam in her eyes that spoke of anticipation rather than apprehension.
She had embraced Mercer’s vision of their purpose more fully than I had feared.
Rebecca’s movements betrayed nothing—each gesture calculated, economical, her eyes fixed forward with the blank intensity of a chess master contemplating sacrifices several moves ahead.
The others fell somewhere between—uncertain, anxious, but committed to the path before them.
“Remember your training,” I told them as I helped Constance adjust her hood. “Both kinds. The discipline Desiderius taught you will serve you as well as the combat skills Captain Mercer emphasized. Control is your greatest weapon.”
“Two minutes,” Mercer announced. “The U-boat is surfacing to confirm our identity before attacking.”
He moved to the railing, his body coiled with predatory readiness. “On my signal, we drop simultaneously. The water will be cold and the pressure intense, but your bodies can withstand it. Remember—we move as shadows, invisible until the moment we strike.”
Beneath the rubber of my wetsuit, my fingers found the smooth beads of my olive-wood rosary. Each one slipped past like a small absolution as I prepared myself to guide my flock into bloodshed—the very thing from which I had once promised to deliver them.
“God forgive us,” I whispered, too softly for even vampire hearing to detect. “For we know exactly what we do.”
The dark shape of the U-boat broke the surface a hundred yards from our vessel, its conning tower emerging like the spine of some ancient sea beast rising to challenge us. Mercer raised his hand, poised to give the signal that would commit us to our first act of war.
“Now,” he said, and we leaped into the void between ship and sea.