Chapter 48

December Twenty-fourth 10:00 p.m. EST

Arthur stood silently at the front of the House Chamber, the austerely elegant room in the Capitol Building normally reserved for the House of Representatives. During the flurry of phone calls, the Chief of Staff had efficiently arranged for extra chairs to be wedged into every available space to accommodate the additional presence of the Senate, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the other members of the President's Cabinet.

The room was nearly full, the occupants whispering angrily amongst themselves as they shot curious glances at Arthur and the large, canvas tarp covered pile to his left. Ignoring them, Arthur's eyes flicked from face to face. Occasionally, he would pause to write rapidly on the pad that sat on the podium in front of him.

As several more people filed in through the door, the Chief of Staff gave him a forlorn nod to indicate that all were present. Arthur responded with a nod of his own, but continued his searching gazes and hurried writing. As time went on, the murmurs grew increasingly loud and angry.

Finally, Arthur cleared his throat and held his hands up for silence.

Before he could speak, one of the senators shouted out, "Who are you, and where is the President or the DNI? Do we know what caused the tragedy at the Vatican yet?"

Arthur gave the man a withering glance, but reached down to flip the edge of the tarp back to reveal a pair of bound legs. Grabbing hold of a foot, he slid the unconscious President out into view.

"Here is your President," he said dryly, "and, yes, I do know who caused the events in Rome. As a point of fact, it was me. However, you shouldn't concern yourself with the events in the eternal city; what is happening in nearly every urban area in your own country at this very moment is far, far worse."

Hundreds of hands reached for cell phones. Arthur stood silently as they tried dialing again and again with growing desperation.

Finally, he announced, "I'm afraid that none of the cell phone towers in the city are in service. There is no one for you to call in any case: the city's remaining police are mine and the J. Edgar Hoover building is staffed only by the dead. Even the guards here answer only to me."

As Arthur spoke, a line of men pushed through the doors to take position behind the crowd of law makers and advisors. Some wore the suits of Secret Service or FBI agents, others wore the uniforms of police officers. All confirmed Arthur's words with a nod and a readied weapon.

Someone called out, "What do you want from us?"

With a laugh, Arthur replied, "In the simplest terms possible, I want you to die. Actually, let me rephrase that: I need you to die, so die you shall. The reason I had you gather here, rather than have my servants kill you in your homes, is that I want to offer you a choice."

Before anyone could respond to this outrageous statement, Arthur pulled the tarp fully to the side to reveal a pile of crude weapons: machetes taken from the White House gardener's storeroom, baseball bats, broken bottles, and knives stolen from the White House kitchens.

"The choice is this: you can all either die slowly and in excruciating agony, or you can take up arms against one another. If you choose the first option, your families will also die horribly. If you choose the latter, your families will be spared, and the last of you who stands will leave here alive and might even see his or hers again. So, what is it to be: slow, painful deaths for everyone, or quick deaths for most and one survivor?"

The Speaker of the House stood and said crisply, "Other than a localized disruption in phone service, there is absolutely nothing to indicate that your preposterous story is true. I'm so sorry to disappoint you, but we will not be engaging in your ludicrous gladiatorial fantasy based on nothing but your word."

"If it is proof you require, then proof you shall have," Arthur replied.

He began to point to various members of his captive audience, reciting the names and locations of all of their family members. Faces twisted in dismay as his information proved to be accurate within minutes. He had, of course, taken the information straight from their minds, and did not have any fledglings in place to cause any of the far flung family members immediate harm. His audience, however, did not know this.

Her voice now uncertain, the Speaker repeated her earlier assertion that they did not negotiate with terrorists.

"So be it," Arthur replied impassively.

Before anyone could react, he leaped up to the balcony and selected a Congressman at random. His hand sprouted claws and darted forward, entering just to the side of the navel. When it came back out, several loops of intestine came with it. With a cry of pain, the man reached down and tried to stuff them back inside.

"This man will spend the next few hours in intense pain and then he will die," Arthur stated as he held the screaming man up above his head for all to see. "This is the fate that awaits you and your families if you choose the first option."

Shaken by the unexpected violence, the Speaker nevertheless held her ground. "There are still over five hundred of us and only a few of you." Turning to address the other members of Congress, she said fiercely, "On my word, charge this filth and take them down."

Arthur smiled pleasantly, revealing his fangs. His claws grew long and sharp, and spikes sprouted from his knees and elbows.

Calmly, he said, "For those of you who are out of the loop and are too dim to have figured it out, I am a vampire as are the men behind you. You may be surprised to learn that parts of your government, perhaps even some in this room, have known about my existence since I caused the disaster in Pittsburgh. After one of my own kind incapacitated me, your government tried to keep me in captivity like some kind of lab animal. Once I escaped and killed or enslaved the combat trained soldiers who were my guards, I brought about the destruction of the Fort Dix reactor. Even without the assistance of my friends by the doors, I could disembowel all of you in a matter of minutes." His voice grew low and dangerous as he concluded, "I will give you one last chance to choose: face each other or face me."

The Speaker, cowed more by his display than his words, sat down heavily. A general, panicked movement began in the direction of the doors. Arthur's fledglings, specially handpicked based on their propensity for cruelty, pushed in through the doors to block them, bringing assault rifles to the ready.

Arthur shouted, "Shoot anyone who gets close to the doors in the stomach."

The mass movement came to a halt.

A voice from the balcony cried out, "What have we ever done to make you hate us so much?"

Arthur shook his head in annoyance. "You completely misunderstand my motives. I don't hate you. Under normal circumstances, in only a very few years all of you would be nothing more than a sordid footnote in a history book. I, on the other hand, will remain much as I am now. With your short lives, you can do nothing that will have any lasting impact on, or relevance to, mine. Why would I waste any emotion on such trivial beings as you? Unfortunately for you, because of recent events, you are an obstacle that stands in my way. An obstacle that must be removed."