Friday, November 20, 2009

LETTERS FROM HELLSING XXXI

We all turned to see Sir Integra stalking angrily towards us across the bridge. Walter stood at the control panel by the cave’s entrance his hand firmly on the power switch of Stewart’s poor abused stereo. He gave it a final disparaging glance before striding over to stand behind Sir Integra who had halted at the foot of the bridge to glare at us.

“Captain Burnadett,” she said coolly, “would you care to explain the meaning of this little gathering of yours?”

“Of course M’dame.” Said Burnadett slipping on his best alter boy expression and turning up the Gallic charm. “We were assisting Private. Zelig with his final technical run through before tomorrow night’s presentation.”

“Technical run through was it?”

“Oui M’dame.”

“Just testing the equipment.”

“Exactement.”

“I see.” She said, selecting a cigar from the case which had magically appeared in Walter’s hand. “This…music,” She paused, igniting her cigar with practiced ease from the lighter Walter now offered her, “and charming little dance demonstration,” she said waiving disparagingly in my direction, “are they also part of tomorrow nights presentation?”

“No. M’dame. We have finished with the testing. This is just a little informal gathering.”

“How cozy.” She said. I felt the weight of Walter’s stare and stepped back a bit from Sgt. Marks trying to casually hide the flask behind my back. Walter raised one eyebrow slightly, who was I trying to fool?

“And this testing of the equipment Captain, I assume it was successful?”

“Oui M’dame.” Burnadett replied suspiciously.

“No technical flaws?”

“As far as we are aware, no.”

“I am afraid Captain, that Walter and I have stumbled across a slight technical glitch in the system which we feel needs to be brought to your attention.?”

A puzzled frown crossed his face. “M’dame?”

“Yes, it seems this new antenna you have installed has somehow gotten hardwired into the main communication lines and is currently bleeding its signal into the intercom system.”

“…”

“And the telephone system.”

“…”

“Throughout the entire house as well as the barracks.”

“No.” said Zelig beginning to turn purple. “No, it’s not possible!”

“Any yet, I assure you it is happening.”

“But,” Said Stewart, “How?”

“You tell me.”

A soft chuckle at the edge of my hearing. A mild throbbing pain between my eyes. Alucard was approaching.

Stewart frowned, thinking. “The lines must be crossed somewhere but I assure you ma’am that the antenna was placed with the utmost care. I can’t understand how the radio signal could be bleeding into the intercom, much less the phone lines.”

“No. It was not a bleed over from the radio we were receiving.” Said Walter firmly. “It was a direct feed from this room.”

I blanched as the ramifications of Walter’s statement sunk in. That would mean… “Um f-for how long?” I squeaked.

“Fifty two minutes.” He said. “As nearly every room on the estate was affected, it took us some little time to find you.”

“Oh dear.” I whispered.

“Oh dear is correct Ms. Doyle!” Snapped Sir Integra. “For the last hour you have been serenading not only Walter and myself but the entire staff! We are trying to close out the quarterly budget and are forced to endure your caterwauling about draft dodging cross dressers and large reptiles consuming major Japanese ports!”

“Really Angel, it’s enough to wake the dead.” Quipped Alucard emerging from the shadows.

Sir Integra spared him an annoyed glance. He grinned and tipped his hat to her. She turned away with a derisive snort. He winked at me then settled back against a stone pillar. A sneaking suspicion began tugging at the back of my brain.

“Ms. Doyle!” Barked Sir Integra snapping back my attention.

“Yes? what? Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes, that is to say I hope my singing wasn’t too disruptive to the staff.” Alucard looked far to pleased for my liking.

“It most certainly was.”

“Well, they enjoyed the Pat Benatar but felt that you’re Janis Joplin was a bit overreaching” Sent Alucard.

“Hey! I nailed that!” I accidentally shouted back to him out loud. Oops.

“Ms. Doyle, are you drunk?” Asked Sir Integra.

“What? No, of course not!” I said fervently wishing for a better place to hide Sgt. Marks’ flask than behind my back. My head began buzzing.

I glared at Alucard who was leaning up against the pillar smiling serenely up at the roof of the cave.

“You set me up.”

He shrugged.

“You...”

“Sir Integra please, I assure you.” Began Burnadett.

“No Captain, this will not do. I know you allow discipline to be quite lax within your squad and I have turned a blind eye to certain, incidents off of the estate but this is my house! My home and I will not have it turned into a discotheque!

And you, Ms. Doyle!” She said turning back to me. “This is not the first time that you have caused a disruption. I know you may feel you are on vacation but this is a working estate with a serious mission not, may I remind you, a resort hotel. You will cease interfering with my staff!”

Unfortunately, hard liquor makes me both stupid and brave.

“Vacation?” I gasped “You think I think I am on vacation?!” I had to fight to contain the hysterical laughter that was bubbling up inside me. “Let me assure you ‘Sir’ Integra, I suffer no illusion that I am on vacation. As to this not being a resort hotel? That is a fact of which I am painfully aware and fortunate too as otherwise I would have to register a serious complaint about the masseuse!”

I calmly handed Sgt. Marks back his flask then, never breaking eye contact with Sir Integra, untied my robe and shrugged it to the floor. “Now, if you will excuse me.” With a final glare at her, Walter and especially Alucard, I turned on my heel and casually strolled over to the pool ignoring the muttered curses and gasps of the others as I passed and dove in.