Prisoner transfers were never handled lightly. Every one was
carefully planned and implemented to ensure that nothing went wrong. The
officers in question attempted to anticipate every possible outcome, whether
they could control it or not. Tonight, the weather was interfering; a
winter squall had come in over the Altantic, washing over the floating city of
Gideon.
The stakes were even higher when the prisoner was a vampire.
Peter Bendiot was nervous for that reason; in all of his years of
dealing with the undead, he’d learned that they were most dangerous when
cornered. Miu Shen was facing deportation to America. She’d be
burned alive, probably within five minutes of hitting US sovereign soil.
If she was going to try something to effect an escape, it would be now.
The door of the holding facility opened and Peter straightened,
feeling his muscles tense. Two guards walked out backwards, looking like
robots in their body armor. Their masks guarded their vision and supplied
air if oxygen was cut off. They had padding around their necks to blunt a
strike to the neck; their arms, upper legs and torsos were covered with
puncture-resistant plating over a kevlar underlayer. They seemed to hulk
over their prisoner; Shen was a deceptively small form, shadowed on either side
by the officers escorting her. The small Asian woman in an orange
jumpsuit shuffled forward, her steps restricted by the titanium alloy leg
restraints. Not only were her ankles secured, but her knees and thighs
were restrained by the strong metal as well, forcing her steps to measure in
the mere inches. Her arms were wrapped around her, held by a metal
harness as if in a straight-jacket.
Her path was forced by the metal rods held by the officers;
similar to those used to control vicious animals, these were attached to her
harness. A handful of green laser guides swarmed from the night to waver
over her heart. With her head down and the bite-guard covering the lower
half of her face, she looked subdued and meek.
Peter doubted that. Vampires were stubborn when it came to
giving up their own lives. They sold others much more cheaply, he mused
darkly. Her victim, Jeremy Matthews, was lucky to be alive. His
rifle was the source of one of those dots, glowing brightly on the orange
cloth. He took steady steps back, keeping his bead on her.
Behind Shen, the two guards were using more restraining poles
widened their positions as well, forming a rough X with Shen at the center.
Another seven officers were watching her tensely, their sidearms
out. Like Peter, they’d be loaded with incendiary rounds. If you could
get a vampire to burn, you could kill them quickly.
The waiting aerocar idled behind Peter, its Harrier engines
shoving against his armored body. Above them, another aero hovered; it
had three more officers waiting to support them from the air, if needed.
He carefully backed up the ramp as the officers guiding her stopped their
progress. The others watched, their guns pointed at the floor. The
space was getting tight; the arcs of fire without friendlies were closing.
Still, there wasn’t a moment when she wasn’t covered by at least two men.
It wasn’t until Peter and another officer, Devon Carson, had secured themselves
behind the bars of the guard cage that the officers moved forward. Peter and
Devon aimed their guns at her, unwavering as the two forward guards entered and
secured her restraining rods to the wall. They eased around her and
helped the two men in the rear secure her as well. The four of them left
together, leaving her with the two guards.
On the other side of the metal plate that separated the passengers
from the transport section, Peter could hear the other officers talking as they
boarded, strapping themselves into the restraints. He should have felt
better knowing that comrades were just on the other side of the thick plate,
but he felt irrationally abandoned, left alone with a killer.
As if she’d heard the mental critique, Shen lifted her head.
Her dark eyes met Peter’s blue ones, hard, cold and dead. “You think
the worst of me,” she said, English melodic and accented. Her voice was
flat and monotone, empty and lifeless.
“You’re a prisoner, that’s all,” Peter said coolly, his voice
sounding hollow in his helmet. His words were broadcast over the helmet’s
speakers, making him sound like a robot. His words weren’t true, though;
Peter hated vampire. He hated their strength and ability; the ease with
which they moved through their death. He hated that they preyed on humans
and lived off of them. But most of all, he hated that Gideon gave them
sanctuary instead of hunting them like every other country in the world did.
“No, it’s not,” she said softly, shifting as the aero lifted off
the tarmac. The vehicle came around, forcing Peter to put a hand on the
wall as a brace. Devon shifted and stumbled as well. Shen, even
restrained, barely moved, her prodigious strength allowing her to retain her
balance. “Were that all, you would not be staring at me like that.”
“You wanna know my issue with you? Fine. You almost killed
that kid,” Devon snapped. Peter’s partner was darkly colored, with brown
hair and deep brown eyes. Those eyes burned with outrage, the fury of the
protector of the predator facing the prey.
“I love Jeremy,” Shen said, her voice filling with something other
than apathy. “He is beautiful. He made me feel alive.”
Devon snorted. “That’s what you leeches always say when
you’re guzzling down our blood,” he sneered.
“Enough,” Peter said. “Don’t talk to it.”
“The laws of your city allow me the right to be ‘her’, not ‘it’,”
Shen growled. Her eyes glittered with anger now, which was not something
Peter liked. Those dark, almond eyes dredged up bad memories-
“You said you loved me, Peter!”
“Sorry,” he said, not really meaning it but knowing that she’d be
a hundred times more dangerous riled. They were always most dangerous
when cornered. “Carson, leave her alone. Don’t talk to her.”
Carson’s face through the visor was unhappy. His stance was
stiff and angry, even as winter winds forced the aero to shift again. Both of
the humans compensated; the vampire merely shifted her weight. When the aero
leveled out, Carson remained silent, which made Peter happy.
They rode in silence to the docks, where the loading procedure was
repeated in reverse, moving with exacting care. Peter and Devon were the
last to disembark, keeping their guns trained on Shen. The wind blew
harder here, on the edge of open water. Peter couldn’t hear, but he knew
that the whistle of the wind would be harmonized by the roar of the ocean
waves, crashing against Gideon’s sides. The aero’s pilot had done a good
job despite the heavy winds; they were less than a hundred feet from the ship.
“Let’s go,” Peter said, casting a nervous glance around the area.
The group began its careful way to the open cargo container that
would be the prisoner’s holding cell. Peter tensed more and more as they
approached. Criminals always got more nervous the closer they got to
confinement. This would be her last incarceration, her last chance to escape
lasting death. Shen’s head was higher, her steps were no longer small
because of the restraints. She’s going to run, Peter thought,
settling his rifle harder against his shoulder, making sure his green dot was
dead on her heart. She’s going to try to-
