Ranger flew forward, his articulated mouth widening his canines thrusting forward to bite into the dummy’s simulated flesh. His old secured, the hollow barb in his tongue shot out and pierced the jugular vein, sucking out the coloured nectar used as blood. The bell rang, and Ranger pulled away. The tiny wound caused by the barb sealed instantly, leaving only a drop of the red-dyed nectar to betray its existence. The overseer stepped from the shadows, a smile on her face.
‘Ten seconds. A new record.’
‘For biting. Not for sucking.’
‘Sorry, but that record must wait. The Head wants you.’
Ranger groaned, but dutifully slipped on his top and walked up the seven flights of stairs from the basement training room to the Head’s office. This “Head”, or more properly “Abteilungsleiter ”, was a gaunt figure whose dark complexion served to reinforce his position as leader of the Regensburg division of the Europäisch Geheime Polizei – Nachtwanderer Secktion. Ranger sat down in one of two chairs placed on the opposite side of the desk to the Head.
‘You sent for me, Sir?’
The Head nodded. ‘We’ve had an alert from our colleagues in Cluj. We’ve had a murder. It’s Nightwalker related.’
Ranger scowled. ‘Nachtwanderer Schweinhunde. What’s their deal this time?’
‘More territory. More food. More everything. They’re still not content with the way of things.’
‘Why call us in? It’s Cluj’s problem. Let them sort it out.’
‘That’s not an option. Their Abteilungsleiter was the victim.’
This made Ranger sit up and take notice. ‘Their Head’s dead?’
The Head tried not to groan. He didn’t like Ranger’s blunt and informal way of putting things.
‘According to the report, “dead” is a mild understatement. Her body was ripped limb from limb, her torso disembowelled with extreme prejudice, and her head was thrown through the wall into the next room. Gave her secretary quite a shock.’
‘How do we know it’s a Nightwalker?’
‘The secretary. He ran inside to see what was happening and saw the attacker silhouetted against the window. He swore that it was a Nightwalker, in a highly advanced stage of....change.’
‘A Strigoi?’
‘Possibly.’
‘And why send me? Why not Klauser or Sigsun? They’re free. I’m still in training, as you’ve reminded me when I tried requesting missions.’
‘You’re the best we’ve got.’
‘I haven’t even passed my exams yet.’
‘Aren’t you committed to following rather than questioning orders?’
‘I feel justified in questioning unusual orders.’
‘Need I remind you that you were transferred here from Berlin for insubordination, and that if you weren’t the best trainee Nachtwanderer Secktion’s ever seen, you’d be out on your ear and in the hands of the authorities? Or have you already forgotten who you once worked for... Vernichtungslager Aufseher?’
Ranger squirmed in his chair. He never liked reminding that he had once been a part – however unwilling – of the worst war crime in Earth’s history. He swallowed his questions and became the dutiful servant.
‘You won’t be going alone.’ said the Head. ‘We’ll be sending someone with you. It wasn’t only the Cluj Head – a woman called Ardeleanu – who had died. Before leaving, the attacker wounded the secretary. He died just yesterday, shortly after the initial message was sent.’
‘Whose this person coming with me?’
‘A human. Quite a character from London. She’s been the top operative of that country’s Nachtwanderer Secktion for three years.’
‘Her name?’
‘I’m sure she’ll tell you herself.’
The Head pressed a buzzer on his desk, and a young woman came in. Ranger looked her up and down. In her late twenties, wearing a strange fusion of men’s and women’s clothing, hair that hung down in defiance of post-war fashion, she immediately appealed to Ranger’s jaded tastes. The woman bowed theatrically, and spoke to the two men with a smile.
‘Lady Isabella Harker-Morris, at your service.’
Introductions were made, and the mission briefing was given. They were to travel to Cluj by train from Regensburg. This, as Ranger knew, would entail a change at Munich and an uncomfortably long journey across Austria and Hungary before another set of changes out from Bucharest. The journey was as long and tedious as he expected, but to his surprise his new companion remained in high spirits. During much of their time together, she played with a length of twine, making shapes between her fingers. Ranger couldn’t help but smile at her antics, and the easy way she talked with virtually everyone she met.
During one particularly uncomfortable part of the journey, where they were bumping along “temporary” tracks laid during the final years of the War, Ranger decided to engage his companion in conversation. ‘Are you really called Harker-Morris? Rather an odd name, isn’t it?’
The woman looked sheepish for a moment, then grinned. ‘Nope. It’s not. I just use it for my professional life. It’s good to have pseudonyms. What about yours?’
‘Call me “Ranger”.’
‘That’s not a name. That’s a title.’
‘Then we’ll both have them. I’ll call you “Lady”. Suit you?’
‘Lady...’ the woman considered long and hard. ‘Well....Alright. But only with you. To everyone else, I’m Harker-Morris.’
‘It’s a deal.’
Upon arrival in Romania’s fourth largest city, it was a long walk from the train station to the decidedly castellated headquarters of Europäisch Geheime Polizei’s Cluj division. The interior was dull and bland, much like Ranger’s memories of the place from his time in the German army three years before. They were shown first to the scene of the crime, where Ardeleanu and her secretary were brutally attacked and killed. Everything was untouched.
As he looked at the splashes of gore where the first murder had taken place, Ranger kept one eye on his companion. To his surprise, she acted like some detective from fiction; she stepped around the room on tiptoe with a peering expression, then threw herself flat upon the floor to examine some part of the rich carpet, before bounding up again and darting to each of the corners before stopping dead still to view a particular angle for upwards of a minute.
Finally she spoke. ‘The killer came in through the window. Ardeleanu was taken completely by surprise. She was hoisted from her chair and thrown over the desk, then the assailant swooped down on her and killed her. His...unusual use of her head as a rugby ball attracted her secretary, who came in through the broken door. It’s clear that the assailant was in the midst of departing when the secretary arrived, but for some reason they didn’t do to him what was done to his Head.’
‘A warning.’
‘Hmm?’
Ranger picked up the blotting pad on the desk. There was a slight spray of red from its owner’s death, but the mirrored writing was otherwise legible. The Lady came over and studied it in the small mirror Ranger produced.
‘Look at this. It’s a report to Europäisch Geheime Polizei headquarters in Berlin. Let’s see. “Two agents lost in the Rodna Mountains....” then there’s “...alert headquarters and... Castle Vytautas–”. It’s cut off there. Guess that’s when she got her last visitor.’
‘Isn’t that going a little far?’
‘You obviously know the name. Castle Vytautas. You’ve heard the title if not the full name. I saw it in your face.’
The Lady frowned. ‘Alright. Yes. We’ve had trouble there for some time. This region of Europe’s always been a stronghold for Nightwalkers, ever since the nearly 300s. We’ve been doing our best to keep numbers down, or failing that keep them contained. If they started spreading–’
‘Looks like we’ve got an excuse to go there.’
‘Eh?! You’re not serious?’
‘You expect us to go back without doing anything? That’s insane.’
‘You’re the one that’s insane, wanting to chase after Nightwalkers.’
‘Hey, I’m not afraid.’
‘But you’re human.’
As answer, Ranger extended his four fangs and barbed tongue, showing his true heritage. His gaze momentarily darkened, as if rain clouds were passing behind his eyeballs, then he was normal once again. His widened mouth snapped back into a normal shape, and his eyes became bright once more. The Lady looked at him for some moments, then smiled.
‘I see. That explains what your Head said to me about “being prepared for unexpected developments” when he acknowledged our telegram. Guess he didn’t want me getting startled by one of his operatives being a Sunwalker.’
Ranger’s smirk was harsh. ‘Yeah. It’s what my comrades called me. Sonnewanderer. Someone whose abandoned the dark and chosen a life among humanity. There’s more than some might think.’
‘I know. I’ve worked with some of your kind. And killed a few too.’
‘Some don’t make the transition well. They’re still Nightwalkers at heart.’
‘And you’re not?’
‘We all are. So what next? Go home and report?’
The Lady smirked in return. ‘No. I think we’ll go to the Rodna Mountains and catch ourselves a killer. At least once we’ve found out what we can about Castle Vytautas.’
Come read part two of this narrative here!
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