Mounting tensions.

Well, there was a trump card pulled out. An ace-in-the-hole of the man his sire attempted to collect into the fine menagerie of powerful world figures which would help run the human world in his cabinet. But to refuse an offer from the sire was unexpected and, frankly no further instructions were given to a vampire of caliber in the event of Stone's refusal. This was far beyond his blood, and required someone above the chain to resolve the issue.

"Mr. Stone, you have gone a measure beyond me. And I am afraid I must insist you stay for the verdict of incite nuclear warfare between nations while I call higher authority." A cellphone was produced by the vampire, as a number on speed dial was rang. "Please pass new that the Stone has refused the offer of immortality. And threatens the Isles with a nuclear missile. Time is of the essence to avoid catastrophe." Then the phone was shut off, not quite enough time to trace a call should Mr. Stone nor anyone else for that matter try. Nor would they be able to bypass the MI6 scramble as easily as the secret sector of the British agency tasked with keeping the secrecy of the vampiric state of Britannia centralized the information brought them for Bedivere or his exarchs to review. A message of this importance would set off several alarms and of course be sent directly to Bedivere. But all this was to happen as the countdown continued on. Did Mr. Stone really intend on dying to his own weapon? Victory is hardly savoured from the grave.

---

A phone rang.
An old corded phone, running through the earth, stretched long and wide beneath the land.
The stylistics of an old rotary phone, with its brass-brushed handles.
The shrill noise echoed in the ancient halls.
It was clearly out of place upon its pedestal.

"For what reason have you to disturb me during these hours?" An angered Bedivere answered the phone, awoken from his rest.

In the pitch black ruins underneath the centuries, Camelot was devoid of any other being save for the last knight. The others had died long ago, buried or scattered upon the winds. Immortality was the curse and gift, to live for so long in isolation would be maddening. Some like Lord Shane perhaps, or Gabriel had lost their grasp of reality in their age, yet Bedivere had managed to cling on to the shred of sanity by his unwavering faith to the idea of Camelot. Camelot was not merely just a castle, with ruins now long regarded as myth by modern man, but rather a perfect earthly kingdom to outshine the glory of the heavens. It was to be a second Atlantis, who had long succumbed to the tides and their own pride. For castle was merely a place for a king to sit and rule his country, the land above it was all of his "Camelot."

"Two reasons My Lord, The first is a crisis regarding Mr. Stone, he has refused your request and threatens the Isles with nuclear weaponry." The voice on the other end replied. Polite, and succinct. Neither groveling nor afraid. The information was far greater in the hands of one able to relay it properly to the likings of ones deciding. "The second is news that we have found the Varomere esquire requested." Lord Magnus was far more useful in finding him actually, but hitching a ride off of his information was part of the job on vampire intel.

A threat to Camelot? Camelot would forever stand. It was above the means of nuclear warfare, not that an attack on the UK would not cause backlash against whatever country Stone had made a puppet of. Nor did perhaps he believe Stone was that desperate of a chess player to play a child's gambit, it was rather reckless to threaten to wipe the board clean when one does not have one's way. Surely this juvenile threat was a perfect symbol of the difference in their maturity, and levels of play. Bedivere would not work with mere threats of wanton destruction, no far more he delivered without promise such that he wasted no such bullets in firing warning shots. With this in mind, he needed not someone who was willing to go the brink, but someone who was courageous enough to destroy the world they lived in for a greater purpose. Besides that, he had far more important matters to attend to shortly.

"To the former, let him go and then tell agent positioned there in his failure to have the instinct to kill Mr. Stone immediately as he refused my offer to kill himself. By my direct Order. For the latter, send him an invitation to Wales, arrange a meeting in three day's time. One of the cars from the London Estate should do, let him enjoy his time in the Isles. Now do not disturb me again until sundown or else do the same to yourself as I have commanded to be done for the other vampire who had recently failed to meet my expectations."

---

The countdown ran to mere minutes now. Time seemed to tick away slowly as the situation became thick. Until the cell phone on the table vibrated with a message to the vampire. The look upon the vampire's face was, between shock and devastation as the compelling orders forced him to rise against his will. With a trembling hand he opened the locked cabinet with a small key produced from his person.

"You may go Mr. Stone. I have failed the sire. Farewell." Pulling out the silver cutlery he began to repeatedly stab himself in the chest, causing the fatal lacerations to the vampire as his body refused his own will to survive. Absolutely obedience was not required, but the punishment for failure was more than a petty slap on the wrist. It was not long before the vampire's corpse was on the floor, blood pooling around hit as the silver knife dropped on the floor from its dead grasp. The old man stood there horrified at the scene, but also aware that with the vampire's death, his own life was secured.

"Well then, I-I suppose you can g-go now? Please S-stay away from H-here... W-whoever you are..."

---

A message would appear on Mithias' Cellphone.

"Congratulations. You have a Friend in the UK!
A friend has entered you into our contest:
You have won a all-expense paid trip to visit the UK.
Tour the Isles and explore its rich history;
Like the Ravens of the Tower of London.
To accept, text a reply with the message 'B.' "

Would the message be sufficient for Mithias to read between the lines and accept?

Rhyss picked up his phone lying on the end table as it began vibrating, with a groan he flipped it open "What? What the hell do you want? Yes, Yes I heard about the Kilo Point incidi- A mission? What? Who the hell are you?" Rhyss asked him. "I /might/ be interested, but I at-least need to know who the hell you are."
----

It had been quite a while since he'd heard from Hale, he assumed his little band of mis-fits would have been here already, he stood from his chair in his room and decided he'd go out and look for them. He rode the elevator back up and left his lair, he could sense two distinct presences he'd became familiar with. He ran off in their direction, he presumed it to be Hale and Lady Mo. He reached them in 15 minutes or so, much to his surprise the both of them were naked. "Sorry to interrupt your little...fun or whatever...but Hale...put some damn clothes on. Here I was thinking you dead or in some epic fight to the death, but turns out you decided to become one with nature and prance around nude with Lady Mo here. Can't say I haven't did something similar when I was younger..." He noticed both of them looked tense, Mo however looked like the slightest wrong move would cause Hale to be no longer. "Oh, I interrupted, don't mind me, continue to rip each other to shreds. Have fun!" He told them, turning around and waving in their direction.

"Kaptain C. Masters, transfer from Washington. They are downsizing." Martin replied without hesitation.
"I've got an important target entering Kilo Point airspace. I've orders to take a unit to the airport before he does.
I have a specialist slot to expend and a connect among the higher-ups suggested you."

Martin got the truck all ready to go, all he needed was a location.

"What's your location SOLDIER?"

Lady Mo listened intently as the wolf-boy attempted to explain himself. Magnus had invited this invalid here? Of course he did... he was getting desperate for warriors. One thing the man mentioned was that humans were willing to fight for them. "Humans?" she interrupted him, this disgust more than evident in her voice. "There are humans who want to help us eliminate humans? What are their motives? Are they mad?" Personally, she wasn't too keen on the idea of fighting alongside such pathetic weakness and vile stupidity, but they could serve as battle fodder, if nothing else.

It was then that Magnus arrived, much like a bull in a china closet. "Do you have no calm?" she asked, her question probably sounding strange - but she had to say something about his awkwardness, it always struck her as.. odd.

"Humans, yes. But we won't be using them as is." Hale struggled to keep his mind on the conversation he was staking his health on. Not an easy feat.
Magnus's sudden appearance had helped the self awareness along,
realizing that he was in fact explaining himself to a stranger, nude, in the woods.
"I picked them up when I found them practically worshiping some low level chump vampire, filled their heads with promises and lies.
So I did the one sensible thing to do, I cut the sucker down and took his place. Promised them a stronger vampire to sire them.
They're a lot of talk about master races and stuff, but I think they're just afraid and want to get on the band wagon asap.
Or maybe they're in it just for the fighting. Either way, I promised them they'd be turned into immortal death machines." Hale raised his voice so that Magnus would hear before he left again.
"I was going to try and get Magnus to bite them all... but."
Hale grinned the kind of grin people give you when they are about to sell you something.
"Say, you look like someone who's looking for a new pack. Feel like leading a battalion of wolves and self sired fledglings into glorious battle with me?"

His words took her aback. Master race... He might not recognize her from the legends, but those words spoke volumes of the prophecy that hung around her neck. She'd tried for hundreds of years to give the wolves sanctuary, to create a hybrid race that was stronger than both vampires and werewolves alone. Tried, and failed. Perhaps this prophecy was just the ravings of an old, senile werewolf woman. But, all of her other visions had come to pass before her death. Lady Mo nodded at him. "I need not a new pack, for mine is continuously loyal and ever-growing. I always welcome new followers, though." New worshipers was more like it. Perhaps this mixed batch of wolf and human warriors would be the one that brought the prophecy to life...

Nearly as soon as he got there Magnus had left, he trusted Mo enough to not rip Hale to shreds. Besides, he had further buisness, sending the enemy into a frightened frenzy. He descended back into his base, entering the camera room once more. Using the information he had bought he tapped into Kilo Points communcations systems, beside him lie a microphone. He flicked the switch on and began speaking. "The time draws near, the clock ticks, ticks, ticks. When does the time come? What is the time for? No one will know until the clock chimes, at the chime the death of thousands will occur. What cause? What source? For whom will the clock chime, for when will it chime? Will the clock chime for you, or will you escape death's melody? At the second chime of the clock, the end is true. Death will ring out for all that hear and dis-obey the clocks will, all will be crushed by the force of the clocks maddening tune. At the third chime, everything will be no more, there will be but one that stands in the center of the ashes of the world, whom will be standing there, proud of his conquest? Will it be you?"

Magnus promptly turned off the speaker, an evil grin forming on his face and chuckling with dark malice. Not one soul in Kilo Point would be sleeping tonight, nor for a while. If the humans lack sleep, they lack the energy to fight, making it all the easier to crush them where they stand.
----
Matt was still sitting in his office, this time with a shit ton of paperwork when Magnus' message blared of the intercoms. "What in the fuck?..." Matt said in a low voice. Nearly at once the entire base was sent into a panic, searching for who uttered the words. No one they found knew what caused it, causing them to panic more. Then Matt got on the comm's "Look, it was probably just some jackass fucking with us. Calm down and resume normal operations, just be alert." Matt spoke, but with what certainty? He too was slightly afraid at the eerie messages. He tried to ignore it as best as he could and resumed his paperwork.

The woman looks up as the Oldblood sits next to her, and smiles. It's a strange smile, tinted with the insanity of those who had been brainwashed by the Purge. It was a look familiar to those who had spent long enough on the fields of battle. It was an unforgettable look, so perfectly mirrored in this woman's face. It was the look of one who doesn't fear death, or even one that would seek it out. It was the face of a psychopath, uncaring about life or death. Impossible to threaten, coerce, or intimidate. "If that is so, then so be it. My death will not be in vain, for you will never touch down onto the ground."

The woman leans her head down, whispering under her breath as she closes her eyes. It takes only a moment for the surprised Oldblood to figure out that she was praying.

There was always a witty retort, a smirk, a cocky smile. Mathew was the best at what he did. He didn't just think it, he knew it. He had risen through the ranks, and he had defeated every opponent yet in this game of metaphorical chess. Threats and tricks, bluffs and lies, all moves in this verbal game, where his life hung in the balance. He had played it since birth, and he had excelled at it, becoming the Lord of an entire board of hapless pieces, all attached by tiny little unbreakable strings.

With the cracking of bone and the ripping of flesh, the silver spoon was driven deep into the vampire's chest. Propelled by inhuman strength, it crushed the organs and pulverized the bones.

And for once in his life, Mathew has no retort. Faced with this simple act of horrific suicide, his smirk was wiped from his face, his usual cynicism nowhere to be found. His world revolved around wants and needs, and the manipulation of such. And yet, that simple image of a man stabbing himself to death at the merest order, turned his entire view upside down.

His entire life, Mathew had played this game. But that was nothing compared to Bedhivere's experience.

".... yes. Lucy, stop the countdown. It... it didn't really do anything anyway. The nuke was set up to a deadman, the countdown was mostly for show...." The words came out just slightly too fast, garbled, as Mathew tried to return to his calm state of mind. His thoughts had been thrown out of order, and he was attempting to scramble the pieces together. For an awkward moment, he thought of what to say. His curiosity had been dimmed, and his ambition seemed almost childlike in the face of this stark wall of death.

Finally, Mathew simply picked up his tablet and left, remaining silent as he walked through the ornate decorations of the house. Old paintings of stern nobles stared him down, as he walked away, feeling every bit defeated. He had escaped with his life, but not with his dignity. In his arrogance he had walked straight into the lion's den, and walking out unharmed felt almost surreal. Was he not enough of a threat to deal with?

"Drive."

Mathew sat down heavily in the back of his limousine, surrounded by the fruits of his work. A car worth more than most people's houses, a fortune on wheels. He had more like it. And yet, it had never been enough, it had never managed to fulfill his lust for power, his lust for control. He needed more. He didn't simply want to have more than anyone else - he wanted to have everything.

Smiling, Mathew raised the tablet, as he made a little note for himself. He had been defeated, there was no doubt about that. But he would not fall. He would need to set a new goal, and once more he would rise above the common rabble.

He would best the Collector, and he would take it all. In the end, he simply wished to own the world.

"Helloo? SOLDIER! Rhyss! What is your location!?" Martin yelled in the phone impatiently.
Some lunatic was holding sooume speech over the intercoms and Martin couldn't hear Rhyss over the cryptic rambling as well as people running around shouting orders. Things got better after someone Martin guessed to be the guy in charge commanded calm.
But now everyone'd be in alert. Bad.
"I'm short on time Rhyss, and I can't hear you so you'll have to get your own transport.
I'll be at the airport, gate 7. Come armed and ready to hunt something you've never hunted before."

Martin hung up, his cover was at risk here and Rhyss sounded suspicious.
He might not believe Martin, or decide not to care for authority today.
So Martin intentionally left him with a line like "something you've never hunted" to catch his interest.
Even if Rhyss didn't believe one word, he'd probably show up just to see what that thing would be.

"To the airport, lets go!" The soldiers looked, not moving towards the truck.
They seemed to be rattled by the voice and the commotion, quite a few seemed frightened.
"Look! You heard the monster speak just now. He means to kill everyone. Now if you want that to happen I suggest you stay here and sit on your ass. But if you want to save your lives, your families. Then get in the truck, we've got bad guys to stop."

Lady Mo's words gave Hale pause. Well her tone did, her eyes and posture.
While her words had a casual air, not caring. But the rest of her seemed to reveal some deeper emotion.
Hale wasn't sure what it was, but knew there he might have been handing an offer she couldn't refuse.
He went over it in his head.
The way the woman spoke, moved and looked made him think of a responsible Magnus, or an interesting Bedevere.
This meant old-world. A Inuit or native north american appearance, suggested. Well, it suggested that she'd recently been involved with tribal life. Recently meaning roughly 500 year. This made sense in combination with the control she seemed to have over plant life, he hadn't seen much of that but he expected much more.
Now what would an ancient creature of the wilds want with a large group of soldiers?
Not likely to be something peaceful.
Now normally people would start to worry at this point.
But to Hale this was what one would call "Jackpot"

Magnus was a good and steady supplier of violence, and that was great.
But when it came to shock troops that's all it was. Turn em, don't tell em shit and send them to their true death.
Hale had a feeling whatever this nature goddess was planning it would be a whole lot more creative.

He took a step forward and spoke with sudden confidence, a voice almost sweet but laced with a sense of danger.
"So.. There'll be a battle soon, one I understand you and I both have tickets for. You could arrive in style, with an army of children at your side. Whaddaya say?"

@akje Rhyss wasn't sure whether or not he could trust him, he contemplated it for a few minutes, he eventually decided hell with it. It'd take a small army to do much damage to him anyway. "About 30 minutes from Kilo Point in a cabin, ya can't miss it." Rhyss spoke. He heard the message blaring over the comm's on his phone and smirked at the sheer amount of crazy that whoever that person speaking must have. "Did you hear that? Hello?" Rhyss yelled into the phone. He managed to catch to meet him at the airport and that was about it. Rhyss flipped the phone off, grabbed his gear, shades, and a cigar and exited his cabin.

Lighting the cigar and kicking the motorcycle into start, he sped off towards the airport. It was roughly 45 minutes from his location, of course that was provided he abided the pathetic human law known as a speed limit. Turning the accelerator he kicked the machine into high gear, speeding along the highway at nearly 95 MPH. The roads were fairly empty, and driving at a high speed was barely a issue with his keen vampire senses. He imagined he'd reach the airport before the man.

Lady Mo watched him for a few more seconds before she nodded. Balling her hand in a fist, she placed it over her heart and bowed her torso slightly.

"I am Lady Mohowauuck." she offered her name before turning and walking towards a nearby tree. Her signature leather outfit hung on the branches and she began to dress herself to be 'presentable' before meeting his group. His spirit was curious, she could sense it. "You want to know more about me." she said, it was a statement, not really a question. "You will find out in time, and you will start by speaking to me in respectful ways. 'Whaddaya' is not a word, you pale-faces are all often too lazy to speak your own language correctly." Her words were as judgmental and cold as always, she never really was much of a people person.

"Okay, I will meet them now." she said before she simply started walking to the raucous crowd, leaving Hale in her dust.

Gabriel hesitated. The absurdity hit him, as he stood there. This young child, this insolent brat, would save him? It brought a smile to his lips, and after a moment, laughter echoed through the street corners, standing out even amongst the bustle of life in the city. It was an empty, hollow laugh, the reflection of mirth, as seen through a shattered mirror. And as Gabriel leaned back he tipped his top hat forward, hiding his eyes as a million emotions flickered across them unseen, disguised by that stoic, unchanging smile. And then, as laughter died down, a silence fell. It was a silence that Gabriel was loathe to break, as if it were a still pond and the merest of ripples would set into course a tumultuous flood of events beyond his control.

But, eventually, he spoke.

"Ah, child, I do not have that spark. I have watched the world burn. I have seen the greatest evils in men, and the greatest deeds of good, and I have seen them all fade to nothing. In the end, all is crushed by the wheel of time. I can remember the buildings that once stood here, the peoples that once lived there. Did you know I once had a child among the Native Americans? You remind me of her." Another pause, a silence. The streets seemed darker, the people seemed shiftier. And yet, as Gabriel looked up, he looked not at Mithias, nor anything within this century. The fog of memory covered his eyes, as he dove into the endless pit of his memory. "So fierce, so fiery, always ready to jump forward and pick a fight. Young, naive, ignorant, foolish child. She picked a fight at the wrong time, with the wrong person. She was burned alive."

A silence that crushed even the merest thought of speech, overwhelming and oppressing. It was as if the air itself had turned into some kind of thick slurry, absorbing all sound.

Gabriel stood straight, his eyes once more aimed to the present, that familiar red tinge returning to his pupils. And yet, when he smiled, it was not the bright smile of a showman. It was a slight smile, barely visible. And yet, it shouted it's presence out to the world, for in it's subtlety a world of emotion could be found. For Gabriel had not smiled before, it had simply been a charade, a simple trick to fool both the observer, and the trickster himself. But this smile was genuine, an expression of mirth, of amusement.

An investment, and one that had already been regretted.

"An old man like me, I cannot live in this world as if it were new to me. I have seen it all, boy. From the greatest heights to the deepest depths, I have seen the very mountains form from dust. The truest terror and the greatest hope, the purest darkness and the brightest of lights. But..." For a moment, Gabriel hesitated. A choice stretched before him. For ten thousand years he had secluded himself from emotion, he had sought out nothing but those base worldly pleasures. He had spent ten thousand years alone, thinking only of what he had lost. He had spent ten thousand years in mourning.

"Perhaps... I can live vicariously through you. I'm never one to back down from a challenge. I couldn't, I have quite the reputation to uphold. Have you heard? It turns out I'm something of a celebrity." Gabriel grabbed Mithias' hand, shaking it firmly. Already, the cold fear and regret were forming in the back of his mind. And yet, for the first time in a long time, he ignored them. He looked forward, even as he turned away.

"I'll see you in London!" Chuckling, Gabriel made his leave.

"Are we playing a game?" Void asked "What is it, tag, hide and seek?" the woman next to him never answered, she doubled over and starting coughing violently, her whole body shook, and with each horrendous noise torn from her throat she spewed more and more blood on the backs off the seats in front of her. Void smiled at her, a smile that held no malice, only joyful glee. He patted her on the back comfortingly and stood, he strolled slowly down the aisle towards the cockpit. A stewardess asked Void to return to her seat, she never finished her sentence as Void tore her esophagus from her neck. Drenched in blood Void continued to the small cockpit, kicking open the door he was greeted with the horrified face of the pilot. Void laughed as he plunged his elongated claws into the man's abdomen.

The iron bird spiraled
The children cried
The fire raged
And the men and women died

Martin glanced at his phone again.



Plenty of time left.
As Martin drove up to the airport he saw a lot of people look up and stare at the SOLDIER truck.
Their presence was making people nervous. And with good cause.
It reminded Martin of the shit storm that would hit here if this mission went foul.
He spotted Rhyss, who parked his massive bike right in front of the main entrance. He looked like he'd already been there a while.
So Martin parked next to him and got out.
Before addressing Rhyss he commanded his sergeant to take the crew and go block off gate 7.
Then he turned to Rhyys and stuck out his hand.
"Kaptain C. Masters, we spoke on the phone. I read your file. Like your work."
Martin paused as he shook Rhyss's hand and smiled.
"We're here to hopefully capture and otherwise kill a specific oldblood. We believe him to be on a flight from England to here and will land in... 4 hours and 12 minutes. If we cannot contain him here he could do untold amounts of damage."
Martin pulled out a file and showed it to Rhyss with a slight grin.
"Now I'd like you to read this file. I think you'll like his work."

"Hale! My name is Hale Wittenburg.."
Hale shouted after her before she was out of earshot.
He wondered if he should have pointed out that her clothes were a little.. 'ravaged' by his aura.
No. He got away with a best case scenario, he had some great rolls, he wasn't going to ruin everything now.
Hale took an assessment of the damage.
Forest: A little ruined,
Clothes: FUBAR,
Hale: perfectly fine!
It was a good night so far.
Hale snuk trough the woods and found that the werewolves had gone, probably scouting around.
The humans were of course just kind off sitting around playing dice poker and drinking moonshine.
To be expected.
"Hey psst."
"Psst."
"Hey Jenkins."
Hale lured one of the hicks over and pulled him into the woods with him.
"Hand over your pants Jenkins."

Location: [Redacted]

Time: [Redacted]

The man wore a long white coat, buttoned down the middle and with the burning cross emblazoned on his chest. A chain with an additional cross had been hung around his neck, lined with long fanged teeth. His face was obscured by a deep black veil, a head-covering similar to a tiny little tent obscuring any identifiable features. But better than all his clothes he wore an aura of respect, of fear. It was in his step, and without even seeing his eyes they could be felt burning just out of sight. It was the movement of a predator about to strike, a panther circling it's prey.

Kami no Kage walked through the doors of SOLDIER HQ, flanked on each side by a SOLDIER operative. One of the few who had been granted the honour of personally guarding the High Council. He was lead through a series of corridors, twisting and turning, until eventually a great metal gate parted before him. What awaited him was a circular room, lined with large screens.

The High Council of SOLDIER had, of course, not chosen to meet with Kami no Kage. They were not fools. However, a video conference had been established, and Kami no Kage sat down at the provided chair even as the obscured faces peered from their respective screens. And then, in a monotone voice, he spoke.

"A vampire is heading towards America. He goes by the name of Void, and he is one of the most deadly oldbloods on the planet. An ancient force of pestilence who specializes not in individual combat, but the slaughter of millions. As such, I have come here to you with an offer, a treaty of sorts. You will destroy the indicated plane utilizing heat-guided missiles. If you succeed in doing such, then the Purge will disband, and all military assets will be moved to SOLDIER."

Kami no Kage's voice was straight and monotone, as it droned on. "Within 5 hours, the plane will land on American soil. Make your choice, and be ready to bear the consequences thereof. For if Void were to be unleashed, it will be the end of SOLDIER. And potentially, the end of America as a whole."

Void allowed to co-pilot to live, he would need someone to land his plane. The plane touched down on the runway, screams still resonating from the passenger area. The co-pilot's tears stained the leather seats he sat upon, Void sat in the pilot's seat and smiled at the co-pilot. The smell of rotting flesh wafted throughout the plane. Void stood up and stretched, "Please let me live!" the co-pilot cried. Void stared at him, "Nope" he chuckled, soon after the co-pilot found a hole where his heart used to be.

Blood dripped off Void's finger tips leaving a trail of liquid behind him, he walked back to where the panicked passengers were "All of you stand up!" he said loudly, "Line up!" the men and women scuttled into position. Most were silent and shocked, yet a few were crying, they soon stopped, forever. Only 8 men and 5 women were left in the line up. Void chose the best specimens and slaughtered the rest. Covered in the blood of families, friends, and strangers alike. He sunk his fangs into each of the 10 people left, they convulsed on the ground with new found power. One after another they rose, red eyes peering around at their new world. "We have arrived at our destination, welcome to America!" he announced "Have a pleasant stay."

The new bloods rushed towards the exit, and dashed through the tunnel leading to the airport. Void followed slowly, a trail of corrosion, and blood followed behind him. As he emerged into the airport he was greeted by a welcoming committee of armed soldiers, "Surprise party? For me?" he asked.

As the plane landed Martin finished putting his hazmat suit on and shouted commands in his radio to close off a perimiter around the plane.
He checked if everyone was armed, suited up and ready.
So they waited.
When the doors opened a group of vampires came crawling out.
"Shoot them."
The soldiers hesitated for a second, but when the vampires came closer, and they could see their sickened faces, they covered the hall in a hail of bullets.
The doors opened up again.
"Stop!" Martin shouted and the shooting stopped just before Void entered the main hall.

"Surprise party? For me?"

"That's right subject #7251, a surprise party all for you."
Martin's voice sounded loudly from the car speakers trough his radio.
"Let's take it easy friend. Vacation is almost over, time for us to go home buddy."

Martin noticed #7252 wasn't there. That must mean it's still on the plane.
He changed channels and quickly told two soldiers to go and empty the hatch and secure the baggage.
He rushed them to hurry, keep their hazmats on and drive all the baggage to SOLDIER HQ.
Don't open any bags, consider them dangerously contaminated.