On the other side of the glass was a small room with a number of occupants, four of whom were bound to chairs with ample amounts of rope and handcuffs for added measure. Two costumed figures, members of Baltimore’s new super-hero team called Rough Justice, stood before the prisoners. On the table next to them were various stakes and a wood mallet. A fire-house snaked about on the floor and then outside the room where it had been attached to a faucet.

Karishi, dressed in light body armor and a long flowing black caped, turned to his teammate. His white face mask with a fixed grim expression hid his great concern for the situation. “Ready?”

Jolly Roger, dressed all in gray with a skull-and-crossbones chest insignia, held the nozzle end of the hose. His goggles and expressionless face mask hid his growing anticipation to get things started. “Go for it.”

Karishi turned to one of the bound men, a brown haired fellow with medium build. The hero grabbed the wooden stake protruding from the man’s chest and pulled it out.

Rick Casey’s head jerked back and his mouth opened to breathe in deeply. His eyes flickered open as he came back around.

“Okay, Casey, talk,” Jolly Roger ordered.

The man struggled with his bindings but found they would not give way. “I know my rights,” Casey stated. “I demand to see a lawyer.”

“The undead don’t get lawyers,” Jolly Roger countered. “Now, I want to know what the plan was. Why did you and these others rob that fundraiser tonight?”

“Why does anyone commit a robbery?”

“Don’t be a smart ass. Who planned the robbery?”

“I’m not saying anything without a lawyer.”

Karishi stood in silence off to the side while Jolly Roger did the questioning. The macabre hero used his mental abilities to connect his own mind to that of Casey’s. His hope was to read the young man’s thoughts. Karishi managed to latch on to something – an image of a shadowy figure in the background calling the shots.

Karishi switched over to his telepathic link with his partner. Jolly Roger, ask him about the shadowy figure – the man in charge.

Jolly Roger didn’t skip a beat. “Who is the mystery man calling the shots?”

Casey blinked and then looked away. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Jolly Roger began to fiddle with the nozzle of the fire-hose. “I think you do, Casey. Maybe a little water can help clear up that muddy memory of yours. What do you think? Tell me who sent you to the fundraiser.”

The bound man eyed the hose cautiously, almost scared of it. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know who it was. Just some guy. Calvin mostly talked with him.” With his head, he gestured over to the bound black man nearby. “Not me.”

Jolly Roger looked over at Karishi who nodded. He then turned back to Casey. “Okay, then, how many of you were in this gang? Just the four of you or more? And where were you hanging out before the fundraiser tonight?”

“Why don’t you figure it out yourself, mister hot-shot hero?”

Jolly Roger whipped the hose around by the coil and let the metal nozzle slap Casey hard in the face. A stray drop of water from the end hit Casey’s skin, causing the man to recoil back. “Look, wise guy,” Jolly Roger said, “just answer the questions or next time I open the nozzle first.”

The water droplet burned like the end of a cigarette on his skin. It left a red welt on Casey’s face. “The Forum Theatre.”

As he said the name, Karishi got an image in his mind from Casey’s. The place was a dark and musty building, very run down and rat infested. He probed further, seeing the interior images that lay in Casey’s mind.

Suddenly, the thoughts turned to that of a graphic encounter of Casey and the others attacking a bag lady and a wino in one of the back areas behind the stage. The victims screamed out in vain as the group hit them and bit them with pure enjoyment.

Karishi relayed the images to Jolly Roger via the telepathic link.

“You sick bastard.” Jolly Roger opened up the nozzle of the hose and doused Casey’s face with the running water.

Casey screamed out in anguish and attempted to break his bonds once more. He glared at the hero who just attacked him and hissed. The sharp fangs in his mouth were like daggers unable to strike.

“That’s right, Rick. Get pissed. But know this: I can do much worse. Now, who turned you into a vampire? Tell me or it’s shower time again.”

“Calvin did it.” Again Casey gestured with his head to the man next to him.

Karishi stepped up from the sidelines. He picked up the mallet and a stake from the table. “This one has told us enough,” he said. When he drove the wood stake back into Casey’s chest, the vampire went limp as he slipped into a catatonic state. “Let’s see if Calvin Tate can be more helpful.”

Jolly Roger grabbed the end of the piece of wood protruding from the black man’s chest and pulled it out.

Calvin Tate snapped awake and looked around confused. He tried to rise but the bonds kept him seated in the chair. “What’s goin’ on here?”

“Did you turn Rick Casey into a vampire?” Jolly Roger asked.

Tate smiled, revealing his fangs. “Yup. Sure did.”

“How about the other two? Lori Sharp and the Hispanic boy?”

“I done the boy. The kid was snooping around where he oughtn’t. We needed another so Rick done his girlfriend.”

Karishi spoke to Jolly Roger through his mind. He seems to pride himself on his actions. Ask him about the bag lady and the wino.

“Did you also kill an old woman and a drunk who were hanging around the abandoned theatre?”

Tate smiled. “Yup, just the other night. Killed my wife and kids too. Got no need for them now that I’m better than them.”

“Better?”

“Yup. Stronger and more powerful. I can take what I want now.”

“Who gave you this power and made you ‘better’?”

“Some guy, spoke with a funny accent. Said he saw me at a local bar and figured I was just the kind of man who could use some special talents.”

As Karishi listened, he probed Calvin Tate’s mind in hopes to get an image or a face of this other man. Nothing was obvious. Jolly Roger, ask if he ever met this man in person.

Jolly Roger nodded. “So, you ever get together with this man with the funny accent? Maybe plan the robbery or something?”

Tate shook his head. “Never saw his face. Only talked to him once in person, right after I got the power. He stood in the shadows. After that it was always over the phone.”

“You got a number to reach him?”

“He always called me.”

“So he told you to rob the fundraiser?”

“Yup. And provided the weapons too. Delivered right to our doorstep.”

Jolly Roger turned to Karishi for confirmation.

Karishi nodded. The man was not lying; he felt no reason to. The power of the vampirism made Tate fearless and arrogant. Karishi had seen those drunk with the power before.

Jolly Roger picked up the stake and drove it back into Tate’s chest. The black man fell unconscious again. “I think we’ve got all we can out of this lot for now,” the hero said.

“I agree,” Karishi said.

Michael Cage appeared in the doorway of the interrogation room. “Well?” the brown haired commissioner asked.

“We have hit a dead end here,” Karishi said. “They do not appear to have much else to offer about the mastermind behind the operations.” He started for the door.

“Wait a second,” Cage said. “What about them? How am I supposed to keep vampires under wraps, if indeed that is what they are?”

“I would suggest decapitation and burning,” Karishi said. “That is the best way to handle them at this juncture.”

“I was being serious, Karishi.”

“When it comes to vampires, Commissioner, I am always serious.”

Cage frowned. “I can’t do that. Like it or not, they are citizens with rights. As it is, I already crossed over the line by letting you two do what you just did.”

“They’re vampires,” Jolly Roger said. “They’ve committed robbery and murder. You heard their confessions.”

“Confessions under duress, perhaps?”

Jolly Roger considered. “Casey, maybe. Tate, no way. In any case, I don’t think there is much chance for redemption here.”

“That’s not my place to judge,” Cage replied. “I have no experience in this area.”

“I do,” said Karishi. “Plenty of it, in fact. However, what if I can get you a second opinion? I know of someone you can contact.”

Cage agreed, and Karishi dialed a number for him. On the other end of the line, a female voice answered; she sounded quite alert for it being in the late evening/early morning hours. “Yes, is this Veronica Westman?” Cage asked.

“It is.”

“I’m the police commissioner in Baltimore. It was recommended that I contact you about a situation we have going here.”

Karishi motioned to Jolly Roger to leave.

***

The heroes arrived at the Forum Theatre fifteen minutes later. It was located in an older section of downtown, amidst other similar buildings – boarded up and condemned. Large signs on the front stated “no trespassing – property of JK Holdings”. The duo disregarded the message, picked the locks on one of the front doors and slipped inside.

The theatre was just as Karishi saw it in Rick Casey’s mind. It was dark, dusty and in a state of ruin. A musty smell filled the air. “Quaint,” Jolly Roger said.

Karishi walked down the main aisle and headed for the raised stage. “There appears to be a small door on the front side,” he said. “There are often small rooms underneath stages.” He opened the door and ducked his head to enter.

Jolly Roger ducked as well and stepped down into the sunken room. He pulled a flashlight from his belt and began to shine it about in the darkened area. “What treasures might we find here?”

Some rats scurried away as the light caught them feasting on dead bugs. Jolly Roger moved the light around until it shown on some long wooden boxes. “What do we have here?”

The two moved closed. Jolly Roger adjusted the light to shine into the open ended crates. There was dirt lining the bottom of each box.

“Make-shift coffins,” Karishi said. “This is where our four thieving vampires slept.”

“Charming.”

Next, the heroes moved up and crossed the old stage. They pulled back one of the tattered curtains to reveal the back dressing room areas. In the center of a large concrete floored area was a rather large mound of dirt, about six feet long by three feet wide by three feet high. Over in the corner were a wheelbarrow and some shovels.

“Any idea what that might be?” Jolly Roger asked.

Karishi went over and grabbed a shovel. “We need to find out what it could be hiding.” He started to move some of the dirt aside.

Jolly Roger shrugged his shoulders, grabbed another shovel and began to do the same. After about ten minutes, they found two bodies in the soil – a man and a woman. “I guess we found out what they did with the bag lady and the wino after they attacked them,” Jolly Roger said.

Karishi snapped off the end of the shovel with his booted foot. He then took remaining stick and snapped it in two over his knee with a loud crack. He drove one piece into the center of each victim’s chest.

“Precautionary measures?” Jolly Roger asked.

“Easier to transport if they do not rise up,” Karishi said. “We need to take them back to our headquarters. I am sure Veronica Westman and her colleagues will want to see them.”

“Who is this woman anyway?”

“She is the head of a group that operates out of Newark, NJ. They are called the Crypt. They study many aspects of the occult and some of them are considered experts in areas of vampirism, lycanthropy and other afflictions.”

Jolly Roger just shook his head. “Oh, Cage is so going to love them.”

***

After helping Karishi put the two new bodies some place secure and hidden at their base, Jolly Roger placed a phone call to the precinct. “I’m glad I caught you still there, Commissioner.”

“That Westman woman your friend put me in touch with plans to come by later today,” Michael Cage said on the other end of the line. “I hope you and Karishi will be here as well.”

“We will.”

“Good. I’m not at all comfortable with this situation, you know.”

“We’re aware of that. This is not your typical case. In the meantime, you might want to send some of your officers down to the old Forum Theatre. They might find some things of interest to tell Ms. Westman.”

“Okay.” Cage paused for a second. “I certainly hope you two heroes didn’t go there first without a search warrant. Even sanctioned by the police, Rough Justice is still subject to the law like everyone else.”

“Oh, we would never do that.” Jolly Roger’s voice never wavered.

“Good. So, I will see you two this afternoon?”

“We’ll be there. Goodbye.” Jolly Roger hung up the phone. Then, he picked up the handset again and laid it into a cradle next to the computer on the desk. He started up a program that used the phone line to dial into a vast computer network. With the attached keyboard, he began a search on JK Holdings.

Karishi returned to the room as the information was scrolling along the screen. “Have you found anything?”

“Plenty. Turns out this is an investment company with various properties in both the United States and abroad. I won’t bore you with all the specifics and instead shoot to the bottom line. Guess who its sole stock holder is?”

“How would I know?” Karishi asked.

“You meet him the other night. Johann G. Kirchoff. He’s the JK in JK Holdings.”

Karishi slammed his fist on the table. “Of course. I cannot believe I missed that connection from the party. I vow that I will find out what that man is up to and stop him.”

“Within the constraints of the law?” Jolly Roger asked. “Mr. Cage seems very intent about that point. Oh, and we were not at the theatre this morning, in case he asks.”

“Sounds like we may have something to work on.”

“You might have something else to work on too,” a female voice called from behind them. The two turn to see their brown haired receptionist standing there.

“You’re in early,” Jolly Roger said. “You just get here?”

“I did,” Julie replied. “I saw this morning’s paper and figured you guys would want to see it, if you haven’t already.” She handed the folded newspaper to Karishi. “Looks like you had a busy night last night.”

“You have no idea,” Jolly Roger said.

“Well, things just get worse,” Karishi said. “Here, take a look.” He held the front page up so his teammate could see it. The morning edition of the Baltimore Herald was emblazed with the headline Fiendish Fiasco at Fundraiser – Rough Justice Lives up to Name. Beneath it was a picture of Jolly Roger using the butt-end of his gun to smack down Lori Sharp.

“That’s lovely,” Jolly Roger said. “Looks like we’ll have to do some damage control for our group image once we’re done with this case.”

***

Later, at police headquarters, the heroes and Cage reconvened in the interrogation room. They stood off to the side as two other individuals inspected the four bound and staked vampires.

A buxom red-head in her late twenties, dressed in a sleeveless gray sweater and a black skirt, pulled back the lips of Lori Sharp. “Hmm,” this woman said. “Definite increase in sharpness of incisors.” She tilted the blonde’s head to the side and examined her neck. “Clear puncture of the jugular with recent scarring.”

A brown haired man with a slight beard stood behind the woman, watching her move. “So, what do you think, Veronica?”

Veronica Westman turned and faced the men assembled. “They are definitely what Karishi here believes them to be.”

“Vampires?” Michael Cage asked.

“Vampires,” Veronica said with a slight nod. “Based on the physical characteristics, I would conjecture they might have some connection to those originating from Europe. And given the behavior noted by these heroes at the fundraiser, I would conjecture them to be relatively recent converts. Say within the past months or so.”

“That would correspond to the missing person report filed on Rick Casey,” Karishi added.

Cage nodded. “Okay, given everything I’ve seen, I’m fairly convinced. But where do we go from here? Can they be converted back?”

Veronica shook her head. “Given the advanced stage of the disease of these four, it is unlikely.”

“Disease? You speak as if it were some medical condition,” Cage said.

“It is a medical infliction,” Veronica replied. “There are a number of studies on the subject matter going back centuries. Though the exact origin of the condition is not fully known, it is universally accepted that the condition is passed on through blood, transference of that from one already with the condition to their victim. This is done through bites on the neck near the jugular vein.”

“So what happens to the four?” Cage asked.

“Their families will need to be notified but, ultimately, they will have to be properly disposed of,” Veronica said.

“Is that legal?” Cage asked.

The brown haired man in the hand-tailored suit cleared his throat and adjusted his paisley silk tie. “That’s my area, Commissioner,” the man said. He pulled a business card out of the leather card carrier he kept in the breast pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to the officer. “Howard Peterson, bar certified attorney in New Jersey and New York.”

Cage glanced at the card with embossed lettering before putting it in his shirt pocket. “So, you can assure me that their rights will be protected?”

Howard smiled. His teeth were polished and even. “Everything will be done by the book.”

The police commissioner nodded. “Fine. I’ll get the paperwork for transferring them into your custody.”

“We’ll need some body bags as well,” Jolly Roger said. “It will make it easier to transport them as well as less conspicuous.”

Cage nodded and left the room.

“Pull your car around to the side entrance,” Jolly Roger told the lawyer. “We’ll help you load them in back.”

“We’re transporting them in my car?” Howard Peterson asked with some concern. “I’ve got leather interior and just had everything detailed a few days ago.”

“You have any better ideas?” Jolly Roger asked.

Karishi pulled the red-head over to one said of the room and spoke with her in a lowered voice. “Does your organization have the means of disposing of them safely?” he asked.

“I believe exposure to direct sunlight will do the trick,” Veronica replied. “That will turn them to dust. The ashes can then be dispersed into a running stream just to be sure.”

“I agree. Now, after you leave here you might want to follow us back to our base of operations briefly. We found a few more victims who do not appear to be too far along in the conversion.”

Veronica nodded. “They might be recoverable,” she said. “I’ve heard that a complete transfusion of blood might be able to reverse the process if they truly are fresh kills. A doctor regularly frequents our group meetings. I can talk with him about trying the procedure.”

“I was thinking the same thing. You will keep us posted of the results?”

“Of course,” Veronica said. “And, if you ever would like to come up to Newark and speak to our members about your experiences in this area, we’d love to have you.”

Karishi nodded. “I will keep that in mind.”

***

Late Monday afternoon, Karishi met up with Jolly Roger, both dressed in their civilian identities, out front of the Trenton Towers apartments. The two talked casually as they watched the front of the building.

“So, kid,” McCoy Pauley said, “how did your conversation go this morning?”

“Well,” said Yoshikaz Kunimatsu. “James Barthlett was very appreciative of our help on Saturday night. He said the fundraiser would have turned into a complete disaster without us.”

“So, we just turned it into a media circus instead.” McCoy chuckled. “Did he have anything else useful to offer?”

“We talked about Kirchoff. He said they are just recent acquaintances. I probed his mind and he was telling the truth. I asked him more about something the three of us discussed together Saturday night – the Sword of Seimei. He had little more to say about it.”

“Was he telling the truth then as well?”

“That is the interesting part. When I probed his mind there, I hit a barrier of sorts. I was able to push through it with some effort, and that is when I found something he seemed to have forgotten – a name.”

“Anyone you know or heard of?”

“No. The name was of a man in Hawaii – Kelei Natai.”

McCoy nodded. “I’ll get on the computer later and see if I can find out anything more on him, if you would like.”

“Kirchoff is our first priority,” Yoshikaz said. “Have you seen him today?”

“Oh yeah. He’s been a busy man. I tailed him after his town-car, tinted windows and all, showed up for him around noon. He went to a very nice restaurant where he met up with a gorgeous blonde woman. They seemed fairly close to one another. She had a large salad, to help keep her nice figure. He had a New York strip steak medium rare. After that, it was back here and the two headed up to his apartment.”

Yoshikaz pondered. “It does not all add up. The steak and how it was prepared makes sense. I would not have expected him out in the bright sunlight though.”

“You don’t seem to suffer the standard weaknesses,” McCoy said, alluding to his teammate’s own vampirism. “If Kirchoff is one as well, perhaps he too is not cut from the standard cloth.”

“Perhaps. I would like to observe him further.”

“Go for it. I want to run by the theatre one more time just to see if we missed anything. We can compare notes tomorrow.”

Yoshikaz Kunimatsu continued to hang out near the front of the apartment building. Eventually, realizing that the two were not coming out, he found a private place to transform into a bat. He then flew up the outside of the building and perched just outside one of the windows to Kirchoff’s apartment. From there, he saw Romanian and the woman enjoying drinks and dinner. Afterwards, the two engaged in romantic advances that culminated in unbridled sex right there on the living room couch.

Karishi had seen enough for one night and flew off.

***

It was a slow but steady summer rain on Tuesday morning. Jolly Roger and Karishi, dressed in their civilian clothes, sat in a parked car across the street from the Trenton Towers. They watched as a white panel truck pulled up and a couple men went inside while one sat with the engine idling.

“What do you think?” McCoy Pauley asked as he sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

“My thoughts do not matter,” Yoshikaz Kunimatsu said as he watched the men return with a large crate on a dolly. The ramp of the truck buckled slightly as they strained to push it up into the truck. “Let us see if anyone else knows.” He closed his eyes and opened his mind to reach out to the movers and the doorman.

McCoy kept one eye on his Asian friend and the other on the men and their truck. After a few moments, Yoshikaz opened his eyes again, and McCoy spoke. “Well, what did you manage to pick up?”

“The men know nothing about the contents of the crate,” Yoshikaz said. “They were just hired to pick it up and deliver it to the airport. The doorman’s thoughts indicate that the crate belongs to Kirchoff.”

The men finished pulling the ramp up, closed the back end and boarded the truck. The driver signaled to pull out into traffic.

“Sounds rather suspicious.” McCoy started the engine of the car and pulled out as well. “Since this is the only thing we’ve seen of Kirchoff all day, I say we follow them and see if we can get a look at what’s inside the box.”

“I agree.”

Traffic was moderate for the time of day and the weather caused little inconvenience. McCoy was a skilled driver and was able to remain inconspicuously behind the truck the entire way. Eventually the truck entered the airport and headed for the private hangers. McCoy put the car in park and began to strip off his outer clothes to reveal his costume.

“I will see you there,” Yoshikaz said as he opened the car door. Then, he transformed into a cloud of mist and headed towards the hanger.

Once at the hanger, the mist cloud seeped into the truck through a small vent. Inside, there were no men. They must have decided to take a break before unloading, Karishi thought as he reformed, now dressed in his costume. That gives me time to look at what Kirchoff is hiding.

Grabbing a piece of metal to use as a crowbar, Karishi went to work on the ten-by-six-by-eight crate. It took a bit of leverage to pry loose the wooden lid but the nails eventually gave way. He pulled back the lid just as the back of the truck came open. Light rushed inside the truck and allowed Karishi to see the contents of the crate: a shiny new black coffin.

“Hey, what are you doing there?” one of the moving men shouted.

“How did he get into the truck?” asked another.

“This crate is going nowhere,” Karishi stated. Then men began to approach him. Using his mind, he was able to exert some control over them and commanded them to back off. They did so.

As he started to step out of the back of the truck, Karishi saw a familiar blonde man enter the hanger.

“What is going on here?” demanded Johann G. Kirchoff.

“That’s what we’d like to know, matey,” said Jolly Roger as he approached from the other side of the hanger.

“Care to explain about the coffin in the crate, Kirchoff?” Karishi asked in a firm tone.

The Romanian remained cool and collected. “Is that all? That is the body of my recently deceased sister. I am taking her home to be buried in the family mausoleum.” He approached the truck, moving past Karishi to step inside. “Come, gentlemen, and I will show you.”

Jolly Roger and Karishi joined him in the truck.

Kirchoff opened up the upper section of the two part lid to the coffin, revealing a blonde woman inside with eyes closed.

That’s the woman from last night, Karishi projected to Jolly Roger’s mind.

Jolly Roger moved in and put his gloved hand to her neck. He felt no pulse. “Your sister? Were you close?”

“Yes, we were,” Kirchoff said.

“How did she die?” Jolly Roger asked.

“She suffered a heart attack.”

Karishi leaned in and moved aside her hair. There were no visible bite marks on her neck. Could he be telling the truth? He decided to let his telepathy be the judge. Opening his mind, he focused directly on Kirchoff.

Kirchoff stared at the heroes, waiting.

Karishi felt some resistance so he pushed further. Then, after a moment, something came from Kirchoff’s mind: so, Karishi is a vampire as well. How interesting. That explains some things.

Karishi recoiled. He had been probed, unknowingly, while he was trying to probe Kirchoff. Taking a risk, he decided to put all the cards on the table. “That cannot be your sister. You had dinner and sex with that woman last night, and now she is dead.”

“I should have been clearer,” Kirchoff said. “She is my half-sister, the daughter of my father’s second wife. She is not a blood relation, so I think you can forgive a little indiscretion between two consenting adults who found themselves very attracted to one another.”

Karishi was fuming. “I know your true nature, Mr. Kirchoff. I know what you are.”

Kirchoff smiled. “Perhaps, Mr. Karishi, but then again you have no further reason to detain me, do you? I have the proper paperwork to transport this deceased woman’s body on my private plane. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” Karishi said.

Jolly Roger put a hand on his teammate’s shoulder. “No, I am sure you’ve got the proper authorizations,” he said.

“Then I suggest you let these men finish their job so I can be on my way,” Kirchoff said.

Jolly Roger motioned for Karishi to leave the truck. The two heroes walked to the far end of the hanger and out into the rain.

Once out of earshot of the others, Karishi spoke. “We cannot just let him leave.”

“We have no choice,” Jolly Roger said. “We have no proof he killed that woman.”

“He is a vampire.”

“I believe you. But last time I checked, that in itself isn’t a crime. You know that better than anyone.” Jolly Roger put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Look, we’ll nail that guy. I promise. We just have to do it within the law.”

“We are staying here until they take off,” Karishi said.

Jolly Roger looked up at the sky. The rain began to come down a bit harder. “Okay.” He moved closer to one of the nearby hangers so that the roof edge protected him a bit from the rain.

Karishi kept his ground, eyes focused on the private hanger. He stood there, vigilant, until Kirchoff’s plane rolled out of the hanger a half hour later and down the runway. His eyes followed the plane as it took to the sky and headed off to the West.

Finally, he spoke. “Damn it!”

“What?” Jolly Roger asked.

“I was able to pick up the pilot’s thoughts as he spoke to the control tower. They are not heading for Europe. They are heading for Honolulu, Hawaii.”

“Funny place for a funeral.”

“Kirchoff is after the Sword of Seimei.”