Bridget's Days Ch. 08

It was a wonderful visit. Saul, the oldest boy was a teenager now, Rebecca was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen and as for David... well, he was an angel. I had such a lovely time I was even able to smother the jealousy that often arose when I was around children.

The children were in bed and I was standing on the front porch when a large car sped by and turned down a dirt road that seemed to lead towards the nearby ocean. I was instantly sure something was underway. Why do people think they're being sneaky when they're just being dumb? The car was traveling without lights. Why didn't they just put a sign on the back that said "Dirty Work Afoot"? I took off immediately in pursuit. Since I don't need to breathe I don't get winded and was able to keep up until the car turned down to the ocean.

The dirt track led me to the top of a bluff overlooking a small inlet. My eyes, designed to see in the dark, had spotted the low dark shape of a sub out beyond the breaking surf. On the small beach itself were two small rubber boats. Clustered around them was a band in black uniforms. I strained, making out the insignia of an SS Strumbannfuhrer on the leader.

"Just like those thugs," I thought. "Can't even go on a secret mission without wearing their damn uniforms." The SS men started loading crates into the car, as a shadowy figure in a trench coat, with his collar turned up and his snap brim hat pulled down, directed. Maybe the sign should have read "Spies at Work". I pushed myself up and scurried away. Never mind their theatrics. Dumb doesn't mean not dangerous. I needed a phone.

I burst back into the Ruben's and ran for the phone. In response to their questions I simply snapped out the single word "Nazis!" They paled and rushed to rouse the children and get them dressed.

The phone was useless. Apparently the German agent had already cut the wires. I decided the most important thing was to get the Rubens clear and go for help. But before we could even open the door, gunfire broke out nearby.

I found out later that I was the Janey-come-lately to the party. Both the FBI and the OSS had been tipped off, probably by a source in the German Embassy. What they didn't count on was the strength of the German party, or the attendance of the other group at the dance. The first shots were actually fired at each other, then the three-way battle broke out.

Stumbling through the bushes seemed a damn dangerous thing for me to do, but I did it anyway. Since bullets couldn't do more to me than hurt like hell, I decided to find out if anyone had the slightest clue as to what was going on. I certainly didn't. Miraculously I made it to the first group without getting shot. It turned out to be the local OSS team, with already two of its four members down. I gave the leader directions to the Rubens' and then crawled towards the distinctive sounds of .45 automatics.

I winced as someone from the third group sprayed the entire area with a Schmiesser sub-machine gun and two 9mm bullets went through my leg. I barely managed to get out of the way when I popped into the middle of the FBI group and a man I recognized as the Legal Attache turned his Government Model Colt on me. His group was even worse off. Washington was far away and he gave way to my arguments that we all join forces. I led the way, helping a lightly wounded agent as the Legat followed. I convinced him once we settled the issue we would return for his other men. I knew one was beyond help already.

There are times I'm really smart. This wasn't one of them. As soon as we came through the door, hands grasped us and threw us to the floor. I winced as my body contacted some heavy objects. The lights came on as I struggled to my feet and I found I was in the middle of a pile of crates. The swastikas on them showed where they had come from.

I looked around. The Legat had been thrust over to stand with the two OSS men. The injured agent was out of it. There seemed to be five SS men still on their feet, the officer and four underlings. So the American gunfire had taken some of the Nazis out. I saw a trench coated figure lying on the floor. From the look of his face, someone had whipped him to a fare-thee-well.

What scared me was the huddle on the far side of the room. Benjamin, his hands showing just who had administered the beating to the German on the floor, and Judith stood with their children. Damn. They hadn't had time to get out.

The officer was cursing as he looked down at the agent. Apparently the unconscious guy on the floor was the one who was supposed to lead them to the Brazilian Navy Base not far away. The B-24 patrol aircraft were making life hard indeed for the Unterseebooten trying to sink Allied shipping and one of the missions they were supposed to accomplish was a sabotage run on the base.

He shrugged and muttered something I didn't catch. Then he waved his hand and his men raised their machine-pistols. He turned his attention to the Rubens, who tried to push their children behind them. He sneered and asked them, "What? No pleading? No prayers?"

He looked back at me as I fell to my knees, my hands clasped before me. I began to babble the 23rd Psalm and his face lit with mocking amusement. What he didn't see was that my feet were braced against one of the shipping crates and my legs muscles were tensing as I rocked back and forth. Everyone stared at me, including the SS Guards, the muzzles of their weapons lowered slightly.

"Yea, though I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I," A look of bafflement spread over the Strumbannfuhrer's face as he at least realized I was changing the wording, "For I, am the meanest fucking BITCH in the valley."

As I rocked forward, my tightened muscles released and I sprang at the nearest guard. Snatching the Schmiesser from his hands, I rolled past him, pulling him backwards. Since his weapon's sling was around his neck and shoulder, it was a contest as to which was stronger, the sling or his neck. The sling won, hands down.

As his neck snapped, I jerked him over my shoulder, throwing him into the two farthest guards. They all hit the floor together and were pounced on by both the FBI and OSS agents. That left only two for me.

I wanted the officer but the guard was in my way. He swung the muzzle of his weapon towards me. Before I could bat it out of the way, his finger tightened on the trigger. A line of 9 millimeter slugs stitched across my chest. I staggered but kept going, fueled by panic now as I saw the black uniformed officer turn his Luger pistol on the family. A backward blow to the guard's throat with the knife-edge of my hand dropped him as he futilely attempted to breathe through his crushed larynx.

I hurled myself through the air. Too late. His lips drawn in a snarl the SS man fired point-blank into the helpless couple who shielded their children with the only thing available to them, their bodies. First the Benjamin, then Judith, rocked with the impact of the bullets. Then I was on the SS Officer and he had time for only a choked scream at the sight of my face before he was picking out his seat in hell.

I managed to cover my face as I spun to check on the others in the room. The two surviving guards were being trussed up by the FBI as the OSS sat on them. About damn time we had some cooperation. The German spy looked even worse close up. I found out later that he had thought he could intimidate Benjamin with threats and only the arrival of the other Germans had saved him from being beaten completely to death.

I looked over the bodies of the three men I had killed. I repressed a sigh. Not that they didn't deserve it, but damn, sometimes I get so weary of killing. Who appointed me judge, jury and executioner? It seems so funny, given what I am, but I longed sometimes for the innocence of that Irish girl I once was. She could never have hurt anyone.

I was startled out of my reverie by a cry for help. I rushed to where Benjamin was attempting to staunch the blood loss from his wife's side. I tore loose a strip of cloth from her dress and pressed it tightly against the wound, holding it with my more than human strength.

"Hey! You guys, wake UP! Somebody get a car. We have to get her to a doctor." I looked at my friend beside me. His wounds were superficial, albeit he had a rather bloody gash in his scalp. The children appeared uninjured, although in shock.

The look was a mistake. The scent of the freely flowing blood called to me. With an massive effort I managed to keep my fangs from falling. Instead, I concentrated on maintaining the pressure on Judith's side. I tried to send my mind out of the room; tried to lock my senses away from the siren call of my hunger. My body was hurting from the bullets it had stopped and wanted blood to heal. I trembled, a sticky fluid that I dared not think about making my hands almost slip from the improvised bandage.

I... would... NOT... give... in. The men formed an litter with their hands and a blanket and carried Judith to the car formerly owned by the Germans. I stayed with them, clamping my fingers onto her side until they shook. Crouched on the back seat I fought one of the hardest battles I had ever been in, a battle with myself. And I won.

We rushed her to the Brazilian Naval hospital at the nearby base. A phone call alerted the Police and Counter-Intelligence types who went to the house. They fanned out, found the wounded OSS and FBI agents and got them to the hospital. They were also able to seize a large amount of money, as well as some documents that should have never been permitted off the sub. Two U-Boats were caught and sunk because of those papers.

I had collapsed into a chair in the waiting room when Judith was rushed into surgery. The OSS team leader, who's name I had never learned, stopped beside me. Wordlessly, he drew me to my feet and led me to a bathroom. I was thankful that vampires being invisible in a mirror wasn't true. At the same time, I was horrified by my appearance. Not only did I have drying blood over a good part of my body but I had almost gnawed all the way through my lips in my struggle. He helped my clean up, and then left me to my thoughts.

They weren't unpleasant. I was able to look at myself in the mirror. Maybe that Irish girl was still inside me. Not innocent, that was long gone, but something even more important, a girl who could recognize temptation and resist it. I smiled, but I had to face the facts. I was a vampire who had been sorely wounded and needed blood. That was also a part of me. Additionally, I needed to obtain other clothing that didn't show bullets holes.

The first I managed to partially satisfy by raiding the hospital's plasma supply. That calmed me down enough to behave myself. While I was there I discovered the women's locker room and borrowed a dress I found a pretty dark haired nurse wearily smoking a cigarette. I bummed one and struck up a conversation. She had just got off shift and was trying to relax a bit before going home. I talked her into a back rub and she fell asleep under my ministrations. Too bad in a way, I thought as I carefully fed from her. I would have enjoyed a romp with her first, but beggers can't be choosers. I made sure she was comfortable and locked the door behind me. Refreshed and recovering, and also unfortunately sexually unsatisfied, I went to check on the Rubens.

As it turned out, both survived. Not surprisingly, they elected not to return to their lonely house. Friends helped them settle into the Jewish community in Rio. However, the house didn't go to waste. In a couple of weeks, once I had fully recovered, I managed to get the OSS team leader, who said his name was Bill, in there along with the Legal Attache. I knew the Legat was being honest when he said his name was Stan. He was, after all, a public official and I had checked through the embassy.

Both of them turned to leave when they saw I had invited the other. I stopped them both by main strength. Surprised that I was able to handle two full grown males like that they sat down and listened to my tongue-lashing. I told them no one was leaving until we hammered out a workable plan to keep a circus like the previous night from happening again.

It wasn't easy but we did come to an agreement to share information on a timely basis and to coordinate any future efforts. I reminded them they didn't have to put every detail into their reports and it could remain an unspoken agreement.

We started on Friday evening and it took until Saturday night to finalize the details. We decided to have a drink to celebrate our agreement. Champagne wasn't available, but I had brought some fine Irish whiskey. The first toast led to the second, the second to the third. By the time we were drinking to the OSS AND to the FBI I really began to see how cute both these guys were. After all, drop a few pounds, grown some missing hair back, replace mussed ill fitting suits and well, they still wouldn't be Cuchullainn or Fionn Mac Cumhail but hey, I'm not Emer or Deirdre either. We passed the time until Sunday evening in bed, or the shower, or the dining room table or, well, we had a lot of fun. And even after the booze wore off, I found them both to be good lovers. It had been some time since I had two guys sandwich me.

We were recuperating from our last bout, with me snuggled between the two of them, when Stan suddenly laughed. At my inquiring look he said "I guess you are the maverick I've heard about Bridget. You go your own way and make your own rules."

"That's what I've heard too," chimed in Bill. "There's a lot of rebel in you Bridget."

"Always has been," I said. "Even once against the US Government." At their startled looks I simply added without elaboration, "Of course that was a long time ago."

(To Be Continued)