Posted by: Thomas Drinkard | January 26, 2012

A Chapter from “V Trooper – 2nd Mission, The Demon”

I’ve settled on a title for the sequel to  V Trooper – First Mission.

This is a short chapter from the book.  The first book, very highly reviewed, is on Amazon exclusively. It is free to Amazon Prime members, $.99 to buy.



Horses! That’s how the sniper and his spotter get from the village to the edge of the mountain.
The vampire had been set down near a river on the northwest side of the mountain where the Taliban shooters had been hiding.
After analyzing the data he had sent back about the hide on the eastern side of the deep defile; he, Russell and Flynn were sure the sniper team came over the mountain from the west and made their way to the spot they used to shoot at American troops and convoys.
Wil was to go into the long valley and wait for them. He planned to capture the spotter and kill the sniper.
Wait. There was someone with the horses. It made sense. The Taliban sniping team would have a man guarding and protecting their transportation.
Three horses and a man. Two horses for the sniper team and one for the guard were in a scraggly patch of evergreen trees and underbrush. The vampire could smell the warm rich odor of the animals and the unwashed reek of the man with them.
He was still more than a hundred meters away, so he took out the black costume he’d used to terrify the village chief in the first phase of the HOLLYWOOD operation and inserted his titanium fangs.
Almost ready for action.
Boyd took out a blood gem and snapped off the sealing top. When the drop of Anna’s blood touched his tongue, a galvanizing sense of power rippled like a flooding waterfall through his body, nerves and senses.
“Do you need me, my love?” Anna.
The immediate sense of her nearness and silent voice spread over him.
“Always. Stay close, but I think his one should be simple,” Wil said.
His answer was as silent as her question.
On feet smooth and noiseless as a hunting black panther the vampire moved on his quarry.

The horse guard was smoking; the tobacco strong and caustic. It almost covered the man’s body odor.
The vampire came in from behind the unarmed Afghan. He spread his arms in the costume like black wings. A foot-wide globe of dim green appeared, hovering about four feet off the ground, casting an eerie light on Wil’s face as he opened his mouth. Metal fangs glittered.
Wil made a snarling sound and watched as the guard turned, dropped his cigarette and ran, leaving his horse behind. The sound of pounding feet diminished as the terrified man ran toward the distant village.
The glow-globe shrunk to a pinpoint and vanished.
“Again, you needed a little light to make your point,” Anna said.
There was a lilt to the silent voice.
“Yes, thank you. I’m glad you shut it off before the sniper team got here. I may have had to chase them.”
“They’re coming. Do you hear them?”
Boyd stilled himself and concentrated on sounds.
Barely above whispers the breeze spoke in evergreen limbs, he heard the rustle of boots through grass.
The vampire warrior slid into the shadows and waited. The horses were restive, unused to his strange scent, but not frightened.
The two Taliban muttered and spit words that sounded like curses when they discovered the horse guard was gone.
The sniper is carrying the rifle. He has it slung over his shoulder, in a protective case. The other man is armed with an assault rifle to protect both of them.
When the men were at their most vulnerable, mounting their horses, Boyd struck.
He shot the spotter in the back with his Taser. The Taliban stiffened and listed on the horse’s back. The animal must have felt some of the current or simply panicked when its rider jolted. It bucked the rider off and ran away across the open field.
The sniper succeeded in mounting his horse and kicked the beast in the ribs in an attempt to get away from the night-borne threat. His frightened mount made only a few strides before iron-hard hands of a black robed horror, matching the horse’s speed, snatched him to the ground.
The dim sky’s faint stars were his last sight. Honed metal fangs ripped the bare throat and emptied his brain as blood spouted a brief fountain that gushed black in the darkness.
Wil made sure his captive was still immobilized by the Taser’s electrodes, secured his wrists and ankles with nylon restraints, and gagged him with the cloth of his turban.
He’d not drunk from the sniper’s spilling blood, but now he licked his lips.
A brief rush ran through him like a bolt of electricity, dissipating within seconds. The dead man’s pooling blood called to him, even as it chilled.
“Wil, no.” Anna said.
“I understand. I had to know if what I felt before, when I tasted Babue Dostrem’s blood, was because of the hashish he’d been smoking. It was both, blood and the drug.”
A distant sound and a cold sensation along his spine made Boyd look up through tree limbs.
High above, massive bat-like wings briefly blotted stars as they passed overhead.
The odor he recalled from the cave faintly brushed his nostrils.
“The creature, Umpir. It’s hunting,” Anna said.
“Does it know we’re here?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t ignore it for long and we have an old score to settle.”

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