A/N: Standard disclaimer applies.  In addition, I will confess, I am not extraordinarily familiar with the organization MI-5.  So, all “original” characters (cringe at the term), animals and legalities belong to me.  What I don’t know, I make up.

 

Pan’s New Flute

Chapter 3: Visionaries and Liars

 

Alucard materialized outside Integra’s door and leaned back against the wall.  Gloved hands in his pockets, hooded eyes concealed by glasses and an oversized hat, Alucard thought heavily on what he’d seen.

Integra’s blood hadn’t shown him much.  He didn’t understand who the invisible figure was in her dream.  Alucard heard the reptilian voice whispering salaciously to Integra, seducing her, taunting her.  That was definitely distressing, though Alucard was more than irked by the nature of his concern than fear of any possible harm to Integra. 

Any new threat could easily be taken care of; Alucard enjoyed such jobs, challenges.  There would be no threat to Integra herself.  What disturbed Alucard was the silver in her blood.  What could she have sliced herself with that would leave its own tainted essence marked in her blood? 

            Walter stepped out of the adjacent room and interrupted Alucard’s unnerving train of thought.  Standing up straight and grinning from ear to ear, Alucard surveyed the old man, one of few he’d consider calling friend. 

            “Walter.”  The aged butler supported himself on a single crutch and displayed a small, clean bandage on his forehead.

“Just checking up on Sir Integra.”  Walter said warily.  Though he admired Alucard—for his attitude, mostly—Walter was hard put to entirely trust the vampire.  That would be stupid indeed.  Walter didn’t fully understand the terms of the contract between Alucard and the Hellsing family, but he knew Alucard despised servitude.       

Which was why Walter now stood outside Integra’s room. 

Though she might not feel any qualms about allowing a blood drinker into her room when she was so defenseless, Walter certainly felt uncomfortable with the idea.  But, he reflected, he would not be nearly as concerned had it been Seras, and not Alucard, lurking in the hall.  Probably because Seras didn’t lurk quite as effectively as Alucard. 

“Walter, watch Integra closely tonight.  Listen carefully, should she begin to speak in her sleep.” 

“Where are you going?”  Walter asked him.  Alucard paused, his back to the old man.  He turned only his head to study Walter out of the corner of his eye. 

“To reconnoiter.”  He lightly tipped his hat and merged into the shadows.  Walter hesitated only a moment before he quietly opened the door and stepped into Integra’s room.

 

Seras Victoria was currently entertaining the notion of hunting down the good Dr. Ambrose and biting her head off.  Having left late last night, promptly after changing Sir Integra’s bandages, Dr. Ambrose had left Seras nothing but old rags for future treatment. 

“How irresponsible of her!”  Seras fumed.  She could understand the doctor’s reservations about aiding possible criminals—not to mention the disturbing spectacle Alucard himself must make.  But to abandon a patient in the middle of the night?  Really! 

Seras was on the hunt for bedding and anything else she might find to make Sir Integra and Walter more comfortable.  Her father’s old rented offices were now closed, thankfully.  The building had not been condemned, yet, but it was likely to be declared so soon.  If she remembered correctly, these four blocks of the city were in the process of re-zoning.  Instead of offices, apartments and condos were in the blueprints to be built.  Condemning property was the easiest—and quickest—way to knock it down. 

Not much had been changed since her father last came here.  A thick layer of dust covered everything, and Seras’ hands left prints on the desktops and chairs.  But it was spacious and minimally furnished with a couple of futons.  Not for the first time, Seras wondered what exactly her father needed or did with office space this large.  With two rooms and a bathroom separated by a small hallway, it was like a miniature apartment.  He must have paid an exorbitant rent, though that too seemed impossible.  Police salary barely took care of their own meager dwellings, much less one such as this. 

Seras chose not to think on it too closely.  Instead, she was happy to be useful to her master. 

Reaching up to the top shelf of a tall chest, Seras’ fingers happily met with wool.  When Alucard brought Integra here last night, she and Walter were too shocked to do much.  It wasn’t only Integra’s state but Alucard’s.  Somehow, seeing his body profusely bleeding from several bullet holes was more disturbing to Seras than seeing him as a pool of black-tinged blood.  He should have healed more quickly, she thought.  Or at least, she was used to him being impervious to bullets.

More searching led to a couple of folded cotton sheets.  Two sheets and three smaller blankets seemed like treasure to Seras.  She understood that perhaps this was where her father used to stay on the nights he didn’t come home.  Gathering them up, she tiptoed across the hall to Integra’s room.  Walter had sat there for the past couple of hours.  The poor man was exhausted, but something compelled him to remain vigilant.  He wouldn’t say what caused his unease.  Sir Integra was well past any danger with her wound.  Dr. Ambrose had removed the bullet, pronouncing her lucky to have missed any vital organs.  The bullet just barely missed Integra’s left kidney.  All that was left, really, was infection.  And as soon as Alucard returned, Seras was going to run to the nearest pharmacy and get more anti-septic and gauze pads.  The iodine Dr. Ambrose brought was nearly gone already.  And Integra and Walter both would need food.  Seras hadn’t any idea how long they would have to stay here.  Or indeed how long they could stay.

Walter looked up from his seat against the wall.  His normally sharp eyes were dulled with fatigue.  He smiled dimly at Seras.  She offered him one of the blankets, which he accepted.  Then she laid one of them over Integra’s sleeping form, lightly so as not to disturb her rest.

“Walter, why don’t you go in the other room and sleep?”  Seras whispered.  Walter shook his head. 

“I will not leave tonight.  It is imperative that someone keep watch tonight over her.”  Walter didn’t mention the ominous warning Alucard had left him with. 

“I can look after her, if you like.  You really need some rest.”  Seras tried to persuade him.  He smiled lightly and shook his head. 

“It is my responsibility, Miss Victoria.”  Walter frowned, staring intently at Integra’s still form on the futon.  He seemed far away, his eyes seeing events that happened years ago.  A young girl, newly orphaned, left alone with her would-be murderers.  Walter shook his head.  That was in the past.  And he supposed that Integra had ceased to be a child even before she outgrew her schoolgirl clogs. 

The two sat in companionable silence, until Walter whispered softly. 

“You said these were your father’s offices?”  Seras nodded, her eyes going soft and sad with memory. 

“Yes.  I’ve only been here once before, when I was a little girl.  But I know he used to come here three nights a week.  I think meetings or something.”  She fell silent again, but a look of consternation passed over her features.  She remembered Harry Anders, the MI-5 agent who somehow knew her father.  He’d never had the chance to tell Seras about the connection; he’d been killed early in the fallout from the impediments to the investigation. 

Seras sighed.  Perhaps she would never know.  But then, she didn’t know what it was she was even curious about.  Something had been gnawing at her since her final meeting with Harry, however.  Perhaps it was as Alucard said, that her intuition was getting sharper.  How she wished it were true. 

She and Walter said nothing for the rest of the night, opting for silence so as not to disturb Integra’s restless sleep.

 

Alucard stalked the streets like a cat on the prowl.  Red eyes slid right and left, senses alert for signs of the undead.  He traveled sans hat, not wishing to leave too much of an impression on passers-by.  Integra’s dream had disturbed him greatly.  He knew that Incognito had not signaled the end of the battle.  Glorious as it was.  God, he’d not had a fight like that in centuries.  But there was still that matter of the organization responsible for producing the freak chips.  Alucard was personally affronted upon the realization that one of his own kind, a true immortal vampire, would lend itself to humans to be copied and passed around.  And he was certain that whoever was responsible would not stand down so quickly and easily. 

MI-5 was apparently still searching for the perpetrators, with no luck.  And the other members of the Round Table Conference, minus two, were getting nowhere in their investigations either. 

A small rat scurried across the alley, momentarily illuminated by the quarter moon.  Alucard thought, very briefly, of making it a quick meal.  He immediately rejected the idea as distasteful and a sign of desperation.  Not that he was desperate.  Just—annoyed.  Integra’s blood, though laden with silver, still enticed him.  Enough!  He put it out of his thoughts and continued.

A familiar voice from the other end of the alley caused Alucard to melt into the walls.  Only a series of small, red eyes peeked out as he watched and listened to a most intriguing conversation.

“I don’t foresee a problem, Mr. Connolly.  The Round Table mole has been taken care of, so there’s nothing coming from him.  He’s in our custody, and he’s not getting out for a while—Her Majesty’s orders.  All other rogue members of MI-5 have been silenced.  The Hellsing Organization has been dismantled.  There is no opposition anywhere.”  The speaker was John Richter, chief inspector for MI-5 special operations.  Connolly interrupted the agent’s next sentence. 

“But only last night, Sir Hellsing escaped from the Tower, along with her pet vampire.  You may not feel that’s important, but I certainly am not about to begin yet another fight.”  A cigarette was hurriedly lit, smoke swirling around the two men like a malevolent spirit.  “We had to destroy three of our labs, because of their meddling investigations.”  Richter began to speak, but again was cut off mid-sentence.  “Not to mention your inept handling of your own agents.  I was led to believe that all MI-5 exploration of the chip production would be ceased.  Or at least misdirected.  However, it took you far too long to silence your ‘rogue agents’, as you called them.  Information was leaked to a member of the Hellsing Organization.”  The cigarette was extinguished into a puddle at Connolly’s feet. 

In the shadows, Alucard entertained the notion of detaining the two men himself, but rejected the idea.  He knew very well who Mr. Richter was, not to mention where he could be found, as did Integra.  Alucard felt she would find this bit of information quite fascinating.

“I’ve already explained the situation to you, and all problems have since been taken care of.  Integra is a fugitive, wanted by every guard in the UK.  She is nothing.”  Richter took a deep breath, trying to calm his temper.  Sometimes, the grimy little man really irritated him, what with his whining.  “Now, I’m only going to offer once more, then the deal expires.”  Connolly nodded his head.  “10 million quid, 500 chips.  To start.”  Richter added.  Connolly grinned, slowly, his eyes lighting up as he realized what it would mean to his organization. 

“To start,” he repeated, nodding again.  The two shook hands, Richter wiping his discreetly on his jacket lapel afterward, and parted ways.

Alucard growled low in his throat, a chuckle working its way up.  The idea of a member of the Round Table as someone’s whipping dog was immensely amusing.  He materialized into the alley, and sauntered out into the streets, heedless of the rain and various wary, innocent stares.  Alucard decided to make a detour back to the Hellsing mansion.  If they were lucky, the blood supplies would still be intact.  Smiling, Alucard walked into a dense patch of fog, fading into it.  It was shaping up to be an excellent morning.

 

A/N #2:  First of all, thanks so much to readers and reviewers alike.  I’m REALLY sorry it took so long to update, and even sorrier I am not providing a longer, more provocative chapter.  I was abroad for a month, and was afflicted by a nasty case of writer’s block.  Profuse apologies for any suckiness.