Simon Hawke - The Dracula Caper

"You will have much to do here," Lin Tao said. "And you have your warp discs to take you back to where you came from. The passage through time which leads here from the warehouse shall be destroyed. And this weapon I have taken shall be delivered to your friends at the Charing Cross Hotel. I give you my word that you have nothing to fear from myself or Phillipe Moreau. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. All I ask is that you honor yours. I do not think that we shall meet again. Goodbye."

He bowed very slightly, never taking his eyes off them, and backed away towards the room at the far end of the corridor on the upper floor, which contained the mate to the chronoplate hack in the warehouse. The moment he was out of sight. Steiger lunged after him.

"Steiger!" said Forester.

"Sir, if we hurry, he won't have time to-"

"As you were."

Steiger looked as if he were about to say something, but he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, let it out slowly and said, "Yes, sir."

Forrester glanced at Finn and Andre.

"You think I'm making a mistake?" he said.

Delaney shrugged. "If you did, we'll probably find out about it sooner or later. I do know we never would've gotten here without their help."

"I don't know if I could ever trust Moreau." said Andre. "But I think I can trust that strange old man:*

"He does put that out, doesn't he?" said Forrester.

Steiger shook his head. "If you ask me, I think you're all crazy," he said. He glanced down at Doyle and Stoker, who stood looking up at them like two lost little boys. "And I'd hate to ask them what they think."

Andre looked at Doyle and Stoker, then turned back to Forrester. "I think we've got a problem, sir."

Delaney snorted. "So what else is new?"

Grayson smelled the smoke as he came into the courtyard. He blew several sharp blasts on his whistle, then broke into a run as he saw the flames start to lick up from the warehouse roof. In a moment, he saw that putting out the fire would be impossible. By the time the fire department arrived, it would be all that they could do to save the neighboring buildings. And then he froze when he saw what was nailed to the warehouse door.

Smoke streamed from the cracks around the wooden warehouse door. framing the body of Tony Hesketh, which was nailed to the door by an iron railroad spike driven through its chest. The corpse's head lolled grotesquely on its neck, blood and from the corner of its mouth, open to reveal long, protruding canine teeth.

Tremayne came running, up to stand beside him, " Jesus. Mary and Joseph!" he said. And then words failed him.

Sparks shot high into the air, swirling like swarms of fireflies. The building groaned as the flames destroyed it and wood cracked as the roof started to fall in. The door started to burn and as the flames licked at the body, Grayson stood and stared at the dark green ribbon tied around the end of the iron spike.

They sat around the table in the dining room of Number 7 Mornington Place. Amy Robbins. soon to be Mrs. Wells, brought in the coffee and biscuits.

"And so that is where we stand, gentlemen," Forrester was saying. "And, of course. Miss Robbins. I have the means to compel you to forget the parts you played in this incredible experience, but there are certain complications associated with the process-think of it as a sort of hypnotism, if you will-risks I would prefer not to incur or even to discuss with you at length. Such a radical… 'enforced forgetfulness,' for lack of a simpler way of describing it to you, could have certain unforeseen effects upon the personality. Since you are all highly creative individuals, that is a chance I would not wish to take. However, I hope I have made you see the importance of never revealing what you know to anyone, not under any circumstances."

"I quite understand, General," said Doyle, "and you have my word. Even if we were to tell anyone about what we have seen, who in their right mind would believe it? Although, I must admit, the idea of pitting Holmes against a vampire has a certain charm to it."

"I thought you had grown tired of him'?" Stoker said. "Don't tell me you now plan to resurrect him from the dead?" he added with a grin.

Doyle cleared his throat. "Well, who knows?" he said. "Perhaps the old chap never really died. Watson was never the keenest of observers, after all. And even if I were to write such a story, it would necessarily stress the rational over the supernatural, the truth over the fanciful. And as I knew right from the beginning, there was a rational answer to this perplexing case. An answer, perhaps, that is impossible for those of us in this time to fully comprehend, but a rational answer nonetheless. We were not confronted with the walking dead. There was a scientific explanation."

"Still," said Stoker, "there is something compelling about the notion of a dark, Satanic afterlife, a living hell on earth."

"I will leave such musings to your somewhat overly romantic soul." said Doyle dryly. "For my part, I am content to have seen this nightmare brought to a conclusion. Grayson believes that he has found his killers with the help of the Green Dragon tong and if he is puzzled by the riddle of the mysterious American scholars who have disappeared without a trace, then it will give him something to dwell upon in his retirement someday. The one mystery which he could never solve."

"Unlike Holmes, who solved them all, is that it?" Stoker said.

"Well… perhaps that yet remains to be seen. And as for Moreau, well, good luck to him, I say."

"You've been very quiet, Wells," said Stoker. "You've hardly said a word all evening. I don't know about you, but for my part, I do not know if I would object greatly to this process of 'enforced forgetfulness' the general has spoken of. I will have nightmares about this experience for years to come."

"I suspect I will have dreams, as well," said Wells, "but of a rather different sort."

"Will we see any of you again?" said Amy Robbins.

“I trust that you will not misunderstand and take offense, Miss Robbins, if I say that I sincerely hope not?" Forester said.

She smiled. "No offense taken, General." she said. "Thank you all for all that you have done. Especially you. Miss Craven, and Mr. Neilson, for looking after me."

"It was our pleasure. Miss Robbins," said Neilson.

"And please give my thanks and my regards to that strange, invisible man," she said.

Wells frowned slightly and looked thoughtful.

"There yet remains one final question to which we do not have an answer," Doyle said. "We know about the poor creatures who were killed back at the castle and we know about their victims who had died, but what of their victims who survived? If they had attacked people and failed to kill them, will they not also develop the same blood-craving disease?"

"We will remain on the alert for any further murders of this nature, Dr. Doyle," said Forester, "as, I trust, shall you. You could be of invaluable continued service to us in this regard. We will not rest until we have established to our satisfaction that this threat has been eliminated once and for all."

"I will, of course, be glad to help in any way I can “said Doyle. "I will never forget the sight that greeted us when we descended once again into those dungeons. The way those creatures tore several of their own number apart in their frenzy of destruction, it was like a slaughterhouse!"

"Parts of bodies scattered everywhere." said Stoker, "the remains unrecognizable. I cannot help but wonder, how can we be certain that among them were Count Dracula's remains? The idea haunts me. He could be there still, somewhere in those labyrinthine dungeons, still alive and waiting."

They all stared at him uneasily.

"I just cannot help but wonder," Stoker said, "if we have truly seen the last of him."