The Dhampir’s Kiss Caper

Carmen Sandiego stood beneath the shower head and exhaled a slow sigh of relief, grateful for the sensation of the hot water as it coursed over her skin. Every muscle in her body ached with the aftermath of exertion. She touched her fingertips to the livid purple bruise on her side, the pain making her wince. She was pretty sure that none of her ribs were broken, but it had been a long while since she had taken a hit like that, and she would not forget it any time soon. How could she, after everything else she had discovered within the last few hours? The secrets revealed to her tonight had shaken her entire worldview, and she was unsure how - or if - she would ever come to terms with them. She leaned back against the shower wall, closing her eyes as she let her senses drift. For a time, all that she cared for was the soothing heat of the water, and the feeling of being washed clean. She took time to process all that she had learned. Everything that had unfurled from her encounter with Miss Rayne.

Rayne. Carmen let the name roll around inside her brain. If anyone was likely to be her guiding light in all of this, it was that mysterious crimson-haired woman. There was so much more she needed to ask, things she simply had to know. Bringing her train of thought back to the here and now, Carmen grabbed a sponge and soap and began to wash herself. For a time afterwards she continued to stand under the shower, letting the water rinse her skin and soothe her muscles, before she finally switched it off and stepped out. The bathroom was small and filled with steam, the extractor fan whirring lazily upon the wall. Carmen grabbed a small towel and did her best to dry her mass of auburn hair, before piling it atop her head and wrapping the towel around it. She dried herself off with a larger towel before wrapping that around her body, and making her way through the door to the bedroom, where she had left her clothes.

Her field gear, trenchcoat and fedora were not the only things waiting for her. Rayne was sitting reclined in the bedroom's single armchair. Her pose was relaxed, and her weapons were nowhere to be seen, yet there was still something undeniably catlike and predatory about her. There was no sign at all of the injuries she had sustained earlier; in the short time they had been here, her body had healed entirely. Carmen paused in her fluffy white towel as the dhampir looked her up and down with those hypnotic, emerald-green eyes. Could Rayne ever be considered truly unarmed, when at all times she had her fangs and her inhuman strength? In this moment, Carmen was feeling exceptionally vulnerable.

"So..." Rayne began, her soft, gentle voice as nonchalant as before, "are we going to talk?"

--------------Earlier That Night--------------

Crouching low on the warehouse rooftop, Carmen retrieved a couple of lockpicks from within her coat and slipped them into the padlock on the access hatch. There was a cold breeze on the night air, and thick clouds on the southeastern horizon heralded a storm blowing in from the Atlantic. For the most part Argentina enjoyed a tropical climate, but down here in Tierra del Fuego the weather could be fierce, especially in the winter months. This region was, after all, the nearest continental landmass to the frozen Antarctic. After a few moments of skilful handiwork, the padlock clicked open. Carmen braced her foot against the edge of the hatch and heaved it open, giving her access to the building below. The warehouse interior was piled high with steel shipping containers and wooden crates, but there was sufficient space in the middle for the van below her to drive in, slowly pulling to a halt as a number of henchmen in V.I.L.E. uniforms clustered around it.

While Carmen usually went to considerable lengths to gather intelligence on her enemies' misdeeds before moving against them, this particular V.I.L.E. operation was one she had stumbled across largely by chance, and she had no idea what contraband they were transporting in that particular van. Whatever it was, however, she was quite certain that it was better off in hands other than those of an international crime syndicate. She fixed her wrist-mounted grappling hook to the ledge of the rooftop and hopped in through the hatch, silently gliding downwards and landing behind the gathered henchmen. As was standard for V.I.L.E., she saw that all of them were armed with electroshock rods. There were also six of them -- seven now, as the van's driver was climbing out of the door. Being this heavily outnumbered, she would need to take them down fast while she still had the element of surprise.

Keeping low, she crept up behind the nearest of the goons and slipped the electroshock weapon from his belt. He glanced downwards as he felt the slight tug of the rod being removed from its holster, but before he knew what happened, Carmen touched the weapon's tip to the man's lower back and sent a stunning jolt of electricity up his spine. He had time to cry out once, muscles spasming, before he toppled to the ground unconscious. The other six henchmen turned, taken by surprise, and Carmen was already on the attack. The shock-rod took the next of the goons in the chest, sending him reeling back, before she leaped over his falling body and delivered a devastating left hook to another's jaw. The remaining four henchmen drew their weapons and came for her, but she was ready. She nimbly dodged aside as the first electroshock rod came her way, and a light jab to the side of the neck with her own stolen weapon sent her opponent crashing onto the concrete floor. She dropped into a spin and swept the legs out from under another with a kick, before darting into the space between the two remaining henchmen. As they both lunged towards her she leaped clear with a move that would have shamed most competitive gymnasts, and landed with a satisfied smirk upon her face as her adversaries accidentally tasered one another. The one who had been kicked to the floor was scrambling back to his feet, but his face met with Carmen's oncoming fist, and he hit the ground for a second time. This time, he was down for the count.

With her enemies neutralised for now, Carmen allowed herself a nod of satisfaction. V.I.L.E. may have been steadily rebuilding itself these days, but she had not lost her edge, and she would remain a thorn in their side as much as possible. Discarding her weapon, she walked up the now driverless van and hauled open the back loading doors. What she saw inside was enough to make her eyes widen and her jaw drop open. The van's interior was piled high with gold ingots. By itself this would not have startled her; plenty of times in the past V.I.L.E. operatives had stolen or illegally transported large quantities of bullion. No, what shocked her was that every one of the bars was stamped with the unmistakable symbol of a swastika. This entire haul was Nazi gold, a dreadful relic of the most destructive war in human history. Even with all her experience of criminal schemes, Carmen could not help but gaze in astonishment as she contemplated both the value of this loot and the amount of blood which must have been shed for it.

"I'd step away from that if I were you, little girl."

The sound of the intruder's feminine voice caused Carmen to whirl on the spot, readying herself for another fight. She cursed her momentary reverie for allowing someone to get the drop on her, though it was deeply unusual for anyone to be able to sneak up on her undetected, even when she was a little distracted. A young woman, no older than Carmen by the look of her, emerged from the shadows. From the looks of things she had simply strolled in through the warehouse door, and for a moment she was little more than a silhouette as she was backlit by one of the building's floodlights. As she stepped into view, however, her appearance was rather distinctive.

This woman was was pale, her skin several shades lighter than Carmen's Latina complexion, and her neck-length hair was as red as freshly spilled blood. A couple of large silver rings were looped in her hair, trailing a pair of black ribbons. Her body was tall and athletic in build, and the buxomness of her figure was certainly eye-catching, especially given her outfit. Carmen would have guessed the woman's breasts to be at least a DD cup in size. The newcomer was dressed in a tight-fitting corset vest of black and red leather, with matching leggings and stiletto-heeled boots. Upon her neck was a choker bearing a scarlet gemstone. Her eyes were quite fascinating, green as emeralds and fierce, but Carman's gaze was also drawn to the twin swords which the woman was openly carrying. Or at least, they were a pair of matching three-foot-long blades mounted upon bracers on her forearms, and 'swords' seemed like the only words to really describe them, given their unusual design. They looked like the kind of weapons that would take a lot of training to use effectively, and from the supremely confident way that the newcomer carried herself, Carmen did not doubt that she was highly trained indeed. All the same, Carmen was in no mood to back down. She snatched up the electroshock rod which she had used earlier.

"Nice outfit," she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is V.I.L.E. recruiting from S&M clubs now too?"

"You think I work for V.I.L.E.?" the woman replied, her tone every bit as condescending. "My dear girl, you are out of your depth. Step aside and I'll be leaving with that van."

Something about the way this woman kept calling Carmen 'girl' was enough to rankle her. She couldn't be any older than her mid twenties, so why did she speak as if Carmen was just a child to her?

"You're welcome to the van," Carmen told her, her resolve hardening. "The gold is staying here."

The woman laughed.

"Really? And what exactly do you plan to do with it?"

"You only need to look at this gold to know where it came from. Whole families died for it. The Nazis stole it from their bank accounts, melted down their treasures, even pulled it from the fillings in their teeth. There are whole systems of international law set up to deal with finds like this, and make sure it's returned to the families of those who lost it."

At Carmen's words, the newcomer's demeanour became a little less playful. The woman moved closer, flexing her arms, her twin swords sliding into position.

"It's cute, that you want to do the right thing. But you don't know the half of what's going on here. That gold was shipped to Argentina in 1938. It was funding assigned by Adolf Hitler to a secret bureau called the Gegengeist Gruppe, for use in their paranormal research projects. It was lost when their facility here was destroyed, and it remained buried until recently, when someone decided to dig up the site to build housing tenements. Now that the gold has been found, its owners want it back. V.I.L.E. were contracted to acquire it, and their client is sending people here to pick it up. I'm here to get it away from them, and you are in a lot more danger than you realise."

The two women circled one another, both of them still primed for violence. The newcomer spoke with the confidence of one who knew what she was talking about, but Carmen found her story more than a little hard to swallow.

"The Gegengeist Gruppe... the anti-ghost group? What kind of name is that for a covert military unit?"

"I don't know, what kind of name is V.I.L.E. for an international trafficker of stolen goods? Bad guys like their overblown names."

Carmen had to concede that point.

"Fine. But I don't buy that the owners of this gold are coming for it. The Third Reich is dead and gone. There can't be anything left of this anti-ghost group after all that time."

"Tell that to Dariel Zerenski."

"Who?"

"My half-brother, in New York City. He is V.I.L.E.'s client for this job, and his men are the ones coming to collect this gold. Now I've already told you far too much, girl. Get out of my way, or I'll move you out of my way."

"I really hate the way you call me girl."

Carmen was quite fed up with the newcomer's condescension, and there was no way she was letting this gold out of her sight until she had tipped off some suitable authorities. Jules Argent would be an ideal candidate to take charge of a case like this. Carmen's fingers twirled upon the dial of the shock-rod, bringing it up to its highest non-lethal output. She launched herself forward, thrusting out with the weapon, but the newcomer moved in a blur, darting aside with a speed that was all but impossible to follow. How in the world could anyone move that fast?

One of those deadly-looking swords struck outwards, catching the rod and sending it spinning out of Carmen's grip, clattering away across the concrete. Without missing a beat Carmen jumped and threw herself into another spinning kick, catching her opponent off-guard and slamming the heel of her boot into the newcomer's face. The leather-clad woman staggered back, clearly thrown off by the hit she had taken, but Carmen was more than a little concerned that her adversary was not falling over. In fact, she had weathered the brutal kick to the face as easily as a glancing blow. The newcomer's expression became a snarl, and as her red lips parted, Carmen swore that she saw a pair of sharp white fangs glinting in her mouth. The woman leaped towards her, returning Carmen's kick with one of her own, and the blow caught her right on the side of her ribs, sending a deep burst of pain through her torso. Carmen was thrown back, impacting heavily on the side of a shipping container.

"You don't have the stomach for this fight," the woman hissed. "You think you're tough enough because you beat up seven of V.I.L.E.'s thugs? My brother's men will kill you if you're not gone by the time they get here. You're clearly not a killer, so do yourself a favour and stay out of it."

Carmen pulled herself to her feet, not willing to back down despite the injury to her side. Another electroshock rod was in reach, so she quickly grabbed it from the floor and pointed it towards the mysterious woman.

"I left V.I.L.E. because I saw how they were willing to kill, just to silence a witness. I've dealt with killers plenty of times. I just refuse to sink to their level."

"You're out of your depth."

There was no mistaking it now: Carmen could see clearly that the woman's eye-teeth were the needle fangs of a predator. Surgical implants, perhaps? But her mind had already jumped to a far less reasonable explanation. Sharp teeth, incredible speed and strength, and a Nazi organisation devoted to paranormal research. All of those things were pointing towards one particular conclusion, but Carmen couldn't bring herself to accept it. No way were vampires a real thing.

As the two women prepared for another bout, their staredown was interrupted by the clanging of the warehouse door and the thunder of boots on concrete. Their heads turned as a whole team of new arrivals burst in, dressed in dark grey combat fatigues and armed with a variety of shotguns and automatic rifles. Their faces were obscured by black balaclavas, and they moved with the trained efficiency of seasoned mercenaries. As threatening as they were, however, these paramilitarios were not nearly as terrifying as the man who appeared to be leading them. Unlike the others, his face was not covered. He was shaven-headed, with hard, cruel features and the coldest, most pitiless eyes Carmen had ever seen. He wore a tan trenchcoat, and as he stepped into view he drew a military officer's sabre from his belt. In his other hand, he wielded an MG4 light machine gun as effortlessly as if it were a pistol. If these were Dariel Zerenski's men, then Carmen had no doubt that the crimson-haired woman had been telling the truth: these people were more than willing to kill them both for that gold. Looking into their leader's awful face was enough to make Carmen believe that the agents of the Third Reich truly were still alive and active in the world, but whatever this man was, the leather-clad woman seemed to recognise him.

"A Traujen..." she mouthed quietly as the newcomers advanced towards them.

"A what?" Carmen gasped.

"A vampire! Move!"

Before Carmen could respond, the woman grabbed her by the front of her coat and threw her behind a shipping container. Carmen hit the floor and rolled to her feet with catlike reflexes, even as her bruised side protested in pain, but she quickly hunkered down again as the sound of discharging weapons filled the warehouse. Guns barked and bullets clanged loudly against the concrete walls and steel containers. Carmen's eyes widened in horror as she imagined the woman being torn apart by the storm of gunfire, for even with her great speed, how could anyone avoid all of that? Carmen's only hope was to escape. She still had her grapple gun, and she would have precious seconds to reach the skylight when these men stopped to reload.

In the heightened adrenaline of the moment, it struck her as odd that they were still firing at all. Surely the opening salvo should have been enough to obliterate their target? And yet, through all the noise that filled the area, Carmen was sure she heard the wet thunk of a blade impacting on flesh, and a distinctly masculine cry of pain. Similar noises followed, as it seemed that the attackers were being cut down one by one. The entire exchange was measured in seconds, yet incredibly the gunfire had fallen silent. Now there was only the clashing of steel upon steel.

Clutching the shock-rod for dear life, Carmen dared to peek around the side of the shipping container. The leather clad woman was there, covered in blood and her outfit riddled with bullet holes, yet somehow she was still fighting. The warehouse floor was a bloodbath, strewn with the dismembered bodies of the mercenaries. The woman was locked in combat with their attackers' leader, the man she had declared to be a vampire. Although his firearm lay discarded on the floor, and her twin swords slashed at him from all angles, he was skilfully parrying her every blow with his sabre. For all her terrifying combat prowess, it seemed that the woman may have met her match. The bald man sidestepped a thrust of her blade and his hand shot out, grabbing her by the face and slamming her head into the nearest shipping container. Again and again he pounded her skull against the cold metal, and Carmen could see her body going limp with each dreadful blow.

"Fotze!" the vampire snarled. "Verdammt halbblut fotze!"

Carmen could not allow this to happen. The mysterious woman had been right all along, and now she was going to die because Carmen had stood in her way and delayed her. In desperation she charged towards the bald man, jabbing her electroshock rod right into the back of his neck. He roared like a bull as the electricity jolted through him, and his spasming fingers relinquished their grip upon his enemy. The woman fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Slowly he turned towards Carmen, and the world's greatest thief found herself backing away in abject terror. The vampire had taken an electric shock which should have floored a stallion, yet he seemed only mildly inconvenienced. He stepped towards her, his lips pulling back to expose wolfish fangs, and his cold fingers reached for Carmen's throat.

There was a horrid slicing noise, and the vampire's advance faltered. The gleaming tip of a sword was protruding from his chest, having punched through his back and pierced his heart. Somehow, despite her many wounds, the crimson-haired woman was back on her feet. Her second blade arced upwards, slashing cleanly through the vampire's neck. His grimacing head hit the concrete and rolled away, before his body collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The two women stood facing one another, relieved to simply be alive after what they had just been through.