Drew D'Amato:Bloodlines:02 by Drew D'Amato Page B

invitation to join the Crusaders.  Bandini told them they would fake both their deaths and give them a new identity soon, but there was too much going on right now to start that train rolling just yet.
       
    3
    W ithin a few minutes the three of them were back at James’ hotel room.  It was a typical hotel room: one bed, TV, desk, window, and a bathroom.  James put his keycard in the door, opened it, and found two new additions to his room.  A laptop hooked up to the flat screen TV in the room, and Bandini.
    “James Whitmore, I am Alan Andolini.  These men work under me.”  Bandini stuck out his hand and James shook it.  James felt ambushed.
    “Why are you in my room?” James asked.
    “Well, we weren’t sure you were at Unionsbrau.  The consigliere recommended it to you, but you could have been anywhere.  So while my men looked for you, I stayed here in case you came back.”
    James was uncomfortable.  Bandini noticed that.
    “I understand you might have some doubts about accusing your employer of being a terrorist threat, but let’s watch this video first.  Come sit on the bed, I have the video hooked up to your TV.”
    James sat on the bed.  A small part of him was scared at the unprofessionalness of this entire experience, but played along nonetheless.  Bandini queued up the video and it played on the flat screen.
    James couldn’t believe what he was watching.  It was the Geneva Airport, it was the shootout, but it seemed as if half of the people firing their weapons were invisible men.  He saw objects move, knives thrown, but who ever was doing the attacking wasn’t there.  It’s as if a few men decided to have a battle against air.  After it finished Bandini shut it off.
    “What do you think?” Bandini asked.
    “ That had to have been tampered with.  That’s impossible.  You could have just deleted whoever was really fighting and now you want to pin it on my boss.  This shit proves nothing.”
    “Or it may prove that your employers are in fact vampires.”
    “What?”  The shock in James seeped through his face.  This was ridiculous. 
    “Mr. Whitmore, you have already correctly assumed that this was not normal procedure for police authorities and you are right, because we are not them.  We are a group called the Crusaders, and we hunt vampires.”
    Before James could get out a second what, he was lifted from the bed by both Clerc and Bodmer and thrown to the ground.  His hands were shoved behind his back and handcuffed.  Bodmer was twisting a silencer on his gun.
    “Now, Mr. Whitmore,” Bandini said.  “We want your help.”
    James had flown for the US Air F orce and performed some mi ssions in Afghanistan and the Middle East immediately after 9/11.  H e was prepared for torture and questioning.  He was not prepared for the absurd.
    “D o you hear what you are saying, vampires?  You gu ys have seen one too many movies. I f you want money from Vlad tell me, at least I could feel that I’m dealing with sane people and not you crazy sacks of shit.”
    Bodmer cracked James in his jaw.  He felt a tooth come loose and blood filled up in his mouth.
    “ I know th is is a hard thing to swallow, ” Bandini said.
    So’s your own blood , James thought as he spit out the thick red liquid in his mouth .
    “James, do you have any pictures of Vlad or his men?”
    “No.”
    “Did you ever hang out with them in all the time you have worked for them?”
    “Never.”
    “So you can ’t really argue our claim.”
    “Of course I can.  There are no such things as vampires, you crazy fuck.”
    “Mr. Whitmore,” Clerc started.  “When I was first presented with this information I believed just the same as you did.  And maybe I had the advantage of knowing for sure this film had not been tempered with unlike you , but witnesses have also reported men disappearing after they were shot.  The evidence is there, they are vampires.”
    “This is preposterous,” James said in