Frank had not told Agent X the identity of the Thief.
The master thief who had infiltrated the Vatican valued his anonymity above all else. Agent X, despite his disappointment, understood. No one wanted a Vatican Red Notice on their head.
"Gentlemen, prepare yourselves. I will have an update within the hour," Frank said, turning to leave the penthouse suite.
The five mercenaries of Task Force X fell silent.
They didn't like dealing with religious artifacts. But the Vlad family paid well, and their political influence in Washington was absolute. In the mercenary world, you didn't say no to that kind of power.
"Captain, I want to kill the kid," Mary Zero growled, her face twisted in a scowl. Despite being the youngest, she had the darkest heart.
Agent X nodded slowly. He didn't like Vincent either. The boy was an anomaly—arrogant, mysterious, and dangerous. But his instincts told him to be cautious.
"Mary, darling, maybe he's just not into you," Sandi Brandenberg teased, flashing a dazzling smile. With a hat, she would be the spitting image of Miss Fortune from League of Legends.
Mary glared. "Sandi, don't tell me you want to jump his bones."
"Look around," Sandi laughed. "Inez already claimed Alex. Taskmaster is a faceless void. And you... well, I'm not into girls. So why wouldn't I like the handsome billionaire in the next room?"
"I'll rip his heart out and put it on your pillow," Mary sneered. "Then we'll see if he likes you."
"That would be a waste," Sandi sighed.
"Enough," Agent X cut in. "Our biggest threat is the Church. The Paladins and the Warrior Monks. We don't have much time."
He laid out the plan.
"We split up. One team stays behind to block the pursuit. The other escorts the cargo to the plane and leaves immediately. We don't wait."
"Who stays behind?" Taskmaster asked, his voice a low, synthetic rasp.
"Me and you," Agent X said. "And Mary. We need your stealth."
"Understood, Captain," Mary said, licking her lips. "But before we bug out, I'm killing the kid."
"Be careful," Agent X warned. "He's not what he seems."
"Gear up."
In the adjacent suite, Vincent smiled.
His enhanced hearing caught every word. Mercenaries.
He checked his system log. The "Fragrant Marsh" mission was going well, but he was picky. Aside from Gwen, Natasha, and Mystique, most women were just for Desire Points. He wasn't interested in Mary Zero. Or Sandi, for that matter.
He rested, restoring his stamina to peak levels.
Soon, the mercenaries left the penthouse. Frank didn't even bother to notify him.
Vincent didn't panic. His deal with Commonwealth Bank was simple: get the Coffin to New York. He didn't care about their internal politics or sacrificial pawns.
But he wasn't stupid.
"So, I'm the bait," Vincent whispered to the empty room.
On the Road to the Airport.
Task Force X was on the move.
Frank, riding in the lead Hummer with Sandi and Inez, watched the GPS tracker on his tablet. The dot representing the Thief had merged with the hotel's location.
"Sandi, Inez, you have the easy job," Frank said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "The Chinese kid is going to draw all the fire."
"Is that why you hired him?" Sandi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Using a billionaire as a meat shield? The Vlad family is cold."
"He bought Oscorp without spending a dime," Frank scoffed. "And then he demanded Tesla Lighting as his fee. That company is worth $18 billion. It's the crown jewel of the Vlad energy empire."
Inez whistled. "Damn. The kid has balls."
"If he dies tonight," Frank continued, "the family gets Tesla back. They also get Oscorp, since he has no heir. It's a win-win."
"So he's a dead man walking," Inez laughed, blowing smoke out the window. "Rich kid with a death wish. I like it."
"The Vatican's Inquisition is already moving," Frank checked his comms. "High-energy signatures converging on the Hotel Eden. Let's hope the kid buys us enough time to get the Coffin on the plane."
"Alex, drive faster," Inez radioed the rear vehicle. "The fireworks are starting."
Hotel Eden, Penthouse.
"Hello, my friend."
Vincent looked at the figure that had just poofed into existence in his living room.
Blue skin. Tail. Smell of brimstone.
"Nightcrawler," Vincent chuckled. "So you're the master thief. I should have guessed. No wall in the Vatican can keep out a teleporter."
Kurt Wagner—Nightcrawler—looked tired. He tossed a heavy silver box to Vincent.
"Here is the package from Frank."
Vincent caught it. He opened the lid. Inside was an ancient, blood-stained chalice. It radiated dark energy.
"The Blood Ancestor's Chalice," Nightcrawler said, grinning nervously. "Legend says Dracula drank the Ancestor's blood from this cup to gain his power. My job is done. Can you survive what's coming? The Church is not happy."
"Wait," Vincent frowned. "Where is the Coffin?"
"Coffin?" Nightcrawler blinked. "I was only hired to steal the Chalice. The Coffin... that is too heavy for me to teleport. It must be moved by truck."
He waved. "Goodbye, mein Herr. Good luck."
BAMF.
Nightcrawler vanished in a cloud of sulfur smoke.
Vincent stood alone holding the silver box.
He extended his senses. Hydro-Kinesis detected the water in the bodies surrounding the hotel. Dragon Elephant Wisdom sensed the killing intent.
Hundreds of elite soldiers. And something else... something ancient.
"They set me up," Vincent realized, shaking his head. "The mercenaries took the Coffin. They left me here with the Chalice to attract the aggro."
He wasn't angry. He was almost amused.
Dong... Dong... Dong...
The bells of St. Peter's Basilica began to toll in the distance.
"Where is the Blood Coffin?"
A deep voice rumbled from the doorway.
A bald priest stood there, holding a Bible in one hand. His eyes were cold, scanning the room until they locked onto the silver box in Vincent's hand.
"I think there's a misunderstanding, Father," Vincent said, putting on his best innocent smile. "I'm just a tourist. A blue demon broke in and threw this at me."
"Child," the priest said, his voice dripping with holy wrath. "Do you know what evil lies within that Coffin? If the Impaler wakes, humanity falls."
"Then why didn't you destroy it?" Vincent asked.
"The Blood Coffin cannot be destroyed."
"Bullshit," Vincent scoffed. "You have the Vatican's wealth. Put it on a SpaceX rocket and shoot it into the sun. I promise you, Dracula can't survive a supernova."
The priest paused. He blinked.
"That... is not the point."
"The point is," Vincent's eyes narrowed, "you want the power for yourself. I can smell the rot on you, Father. You're dying. You want the Immortality inside that box."
The priest's aura flared. "Heretic!"
"You accuse me of stealing," Vincent laughed, stepping forward. "If I wanted to rob the Vatican, I wouldn't sneak around. I would walk through your front gates, kill everyone who stood in my way, and carry the Coffin out over a carpet of your corpses."
"Imagine the Desire Points from that," he mused.
"Kill him!" the priest shouted.
Vincent's hand snapped out to his right, grabbing empty air.
CRACK.
A scream materialized as Vincent's fingers crushed the throat of an invisible assassin—a mutant monk who had been stealthily approaching.
"Nice invisibility," Vincent whispered to the struggling monk. "But water has a heartbeat. And you are full of water."
He threw the monk aside like a ragdoll.
BANG!
The bald priest raised his arm. From beneath his cassock, he didn't pull a crucifix. He pulled a sawed-off shotgun.
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